#and ig i could get free coffee at work but they only start opening up the snack bar at the same time i clock in and if ppl come in

[chisungie]

.

[humanbug]

Inky Hearts pt.2

Modern!Ellie is a tattoo artist and you just became her lovely little muse.

a/n: whoaaa part 2!!! this one gets exciting!! i am not sure if ill make a part 3. i was gonna put abby in this but it just didn't feel like the right storyline. this is proofread but also written at like 4am soooo there might be mistakes. comments, and reblogs are appreciated!! my asks are open for requests or just to chat!! i hope you enjoy!!

| NSFW 18+ MDNI |

Songs mentioned: Down the Line by Beach Fossils, Spooky by Dusty Springfield, Left Hand Free by alt-J

warning(s): smoking/weed, y/n is used (only once), SMUT!!!, oral (r!receiving), sex while high (both parties consenting)

“God! C’mon don’t be such a baby and just ask her!” 

“Would you let it go! I’m not gonna do anything. We’re just friends.”, you say for what feels like the millionth time. “For now!”, she retorts. You lean back in your seat laughing as Bailey’s face twists at your stubbornness. Knowing she’s right but being way too stubborn to give her that satisfaction. 

You and her had decided to grab coffee, realizing it had been too long since you had spent time together. She had seen your most recent instagram post and texted you a string of texts including the words, ‘bitch’ ‘cutie’ ‘skank’ and ‘hottie’, which was pretty typical given that you had been friends since high school. 

It had been about three weeks since you got your tattoo and you and Ellie had been texting almost every single day. You had made up the ‘smooth’ excuse of "My ig dm notifs don’t come through :( can we text instead?”, hoping that the small fib worked. Luck was on your side because just like that you had her number and before you knew it you two were choosing to facetime instead of text. Neither of you had realized it, but you were both building up the courage to ask the other out. Although neither of you were successful, typing out the message and deleting them right after. 

You had told Bailey about the hottest tattoo artist you had ever had. How you had definitely been flirting during your appointment and how much Ellie undercharged you, still angry about that part. She immediately began trying to convince you to ask her out but you had said over and over again that you are just friends…for now. 

Putting her elbows on the table, “So anyway stubborn bitch! Did you hear who Sophia started dating!?”. You and her gossip and talk absolute filth about all the people you know, laughing and cringing at your bullying. 

–

“Oh my god! She is so lying! You have to call her out-”, Bailey starts, face quickly morphing into confusion as your cheeks flush and you mumble ‘oh my god!’. Looking down at your drink, trying to become invisible you whisper, “Bailey that’s her!”. 

Being the ever so subtle person she is, she whips her head over her left shoulder, looking back at you with her mouth in a big ‘O’ shape. “She’s SO hot! Oh my god! You absolutely have to ask her out. I’m definitely not taking no for an answer after seeing her in person.”, she exclaims, peering over her shoulder a few more times.

Given that it’s a rather loud coffee shop and you and Bailey are tucked into the corner, you try not to be disappointed that she hadn't seen you as she grabs a tray of four drinks and walks out. 

Twiddling with your rings you chew on your bottom lip, “You know what? Fuck it. I’m gonna ask her to hang out.”, you state, the authority in your voice is not the most convincing but fuckin’ fake it till’ you make it, right? 

–

Your thumbs hover over your keyboard. Taking a deep breath you hit send. Tossing your phone to the foot of your bed as if it’s a bomb and falling back against your pillows, arms covering your face. Closing your eyes, your mind wanders back to your tattoo appointment. The way her hands felt over your plush thighs, the way you had to pull your panties higher so she could access your skin and how, unknowingly to you, she had eyed the way it created a perfect outline of your cunt causing her mouth to water, the way her brows furrowed when she was in deep focus. Starting to imagine the way her strong hands would feel lowering down and-  

Shooting up at the feeling of your phone vibrating your hands dig through the sheets to find it. Sliding it open you pull the notification screen down, not wanting to open the text just yet. 

✯Ellie✯ : hey! ya i would like that, this week is super packed for…

‘Damn it! Okay, I have to open it.’

✯Ellie✯ : hey! ya i would like that, this week is super packed for me. i am booked up almost everyday butttt maybe you could come by the shop? if you don’t want too that’s totally cool

Biting back a smile at her rambling, excitement bubbles inside you as you respond. Typing out a message and deleting it several times, anxiety making your palms sweaty and heart race.

✿Y/N✿ : Yes! That would be perfect! Just let me know when you have a break! :) 

–

Bopping your head to Down the Line as you drive through the intersection just before the tattoo shop. Parking your car in the lot across the street you pull the mirror down checking over yourself. Grabbing your two bags and water bottle you head across the street to the shop. 

Opening the door and stepping inside you walk over the front desk. The girl with dark hair is there talking with another girl with black hair in a short choppy haircut and bangs. The girl you have never seen before sports several piercings. Walking up hesitantly, not wanting to interrupt their conversation, the girl with longer dark hair turns to you with a warm smile.

“Hi! How can we help you?”, she asks in a kind voice.

“I’m here for Ellie! I don’t uh- have an appointment but she should be expecting me!”, you say quietly not wanting to sound like a walk-in demanding to see Ellie. Feeling the girl with black eyeing you intensely, your cheeks flush. 

“For sure! She should be at her station, her client just left. You can just head back.”, giving her an appreciative smile, you walk through the curtained work stations, hearing the buzz of guns and low chatter.  

Peaking your head into her station you see her sitting on the rolling chair, sketching something on her iPad. She hasn’t noticed you just yet so you observe her in her element. Her hair is tied half up half down, the short choppy strands falling around her face. You wonder how someone can make black jeans and a loose t-shirt look so good. Clearing your throat and smiling as your eyes meet.

“Hey! Perfect timing! I’ve got like an hour and a half before my next client.”, swiveling around as she speaks. 

Holding up one of the two bags in your arms you take a step forward, “Um- I brought you lunch. I- I figured pasta was a safe option so I brought pesto pasta with sun-dried tomatoes!”

Ellie can feel the appreciation practically running through her veins, not remembering the last time someone made lunch for her. Her lips curve as she runs a hand over the back of her neck. 

“That- You are too sweet. I really wasn’t expecting you to bring me lunch. There’s a table out back, let’s eat out there?”, she says as she gets up, closing her iPad and pocketing her phone. 

Giving her a bright smile you nod your head. Following her out of the shop you admire her physique from behind.

‘Does this girl look good from every angle? Yes. Yes, she does.’

–

“Holy fuck! Did you make this!?”, she exclaims, savoring the pasta. 

“Well- uh- not exactly! It’s from Trader Joe's! But it’s my favorite pasta kind of ever. I’m really glad you like it!”, you giggle as you explain the pasta is unfortunately not homemade.

“Well Joe knows how to make some good fucking pasta.”, she says with a mouthful of noodles. Laughing at the green-eyed goofy girl in front of you as you take a bite of your pasta. 

‘Just ask! Don’t be a baby!’, your belly flips as you work up the courage.

Fiddling with your rings and glancing up, just to see her already looking at you, “So…what are you doing Saturday? My friend Bailey is having a small party at her place and I was uh- I was wondering if you wanted to come? With me, of course- or not of course. Just with me.”, you ramble out.

Giving a cocky smile at your nervousness, she tries her damndest to conceal her own racing heart and sweaty palms, “That sounds perfect. I’d love to go. With you, of course.”, her response taking a teasing tone. 

Giggling at your own embarrassing rambling you bite back a smile, “I will pick you up at five. It’s nothing fancy, just a casual thing. I am planning on bringing weed.”

“Just a casual thing, perfect.���, she hums with a smile.

–

Tying the laces of your docs you rush out of your apartment. Checking your phone and cursing at the time, it was four fifty and Ellie’s place was about fifteen minutes away. Rushing through the halls, your purse clutched in one hand, phone under your chin, and yanking your jacket on. 

–

Pulling up the address that Ellie had sent you, you send a voice memo that you are parked out front. You have Spooky playing low as you drum your fingers on the steering wheel. Glancing around you see Ellie rushing down the steps on the porch. Shamelessly running your hungry eyes over her. She wears a pair of light-wash black jeans, sitting perfectly on her legs, not too loose and not too baggy, a black hoodie, and black converse. 

You can’t help but grin as you realize you match. You had chosen an all black outfit too. Finding your favorite black skirt to show off all of the art on your legs, black tights to compensate for the chilly night air, a snug black cropped shirt that showed off a perfect amount of cleavage and your leather jacket. 

“Well don’t you clean up well!”, you tease as she slides into the car, sharing a smile as she chuckles. As she buckles up you hand her your phone, “Put whatever you want on! Bailey’s is like twenty minutes away.”

Ellie finally takes the chance to glance at you. Feeling desire pool in her belly as she sees what you’re wearing. How your hands maneuver the steering wheel, rings and manicured nails tapping along to Left Hand Free. How your skirt has ridden up your plush thighs sitting dangerously high. How the skirt hugs your soft belly and your top shows enough skin to see the glimpse of a tattoo and how it hugs your tits perfectly. Fucking hell, she know’s she ogeling but can’t find it in her to give a shit. She is torn from her trance when she realizes you're leaning dangerously close. Her freckled cheeks flush and she clears her throat when you reach in the back seat and lean back with your purse in hand. Oh. You arrived at the party, Ellie hadn’t even realized you parked. 

You step out of the car and shimmy your skirt back down and smooth your hair out. Ellie steps out and looks over at you, admiring you even more. Thank god it’s getting dark and you can’t see her beet red face. 

“You ready? We’re a tiny bit late so Bailey is probably gonna chew me out but she’s a sweetheart I promise.”, you assure her as you both walk up to the house. Stepping through the door the house is warm with bodies, liquor, and weed. It is not painfully packed but nonetheless you grasp Ellie’s hand in yours and make your way to the kitchen, saying ‘hi’ to most of the people you pass. 

“You’re late bitch! And because you’re late you owe me a shot!”Bailey's voice fills the kitchen, she clearly started partying a long time ago. Stepping over to her you give her a hug, her bright pink outfit a stark contrast against your black one. 

“Anything you want babe! But first, Bailey, this is Ellie. Ellie, this is Bailey, my best friend!”, you exclaim loud enough to be heard through the voices filling the space. 

–

“You’ve been quiet.”, you say as you and Ellie finally escape the kitchen. Finding your way to the room you knew would be a lot more chilled out. 

“Have I?”, she hums, walking behind you practically being your shadow. 

Finding exactly what you were looking for, you plop down onto the couch, toeing your heavy boots off, shifting to face where Ellie sits and draping your legs over hers. 

‘Oh boy, that shot worked quick!’

“Yeah, you have! Is everything okay?”, you ask, tilting your head. 

“Yeah, I’m good! I think I just get a little anxious at parties.”, she says quietly, almost seeming embarrassed. Your bottom lip pokes out and you grab her hand that was resting on your legs, thumb circling her knuckles.

“It’s okay! I get it. If you wanna head out just let me know! No shame, I swear. Or we can get some fresh air! Or just chill here!”, you get lost in your ramble a little, wanting to make sure she knows there’s no pressure for anything. 

Looking at you she chuckles, “You’re cute when you ramble, you know that?”, grinning when you blush and look down to fiddle with her fingers. 

You have the sudden realization you brought weed! 

“You wanna smoke?”, you ask, looking up at her with wide-eyes. 

“Now we’re talking. Yes. Yes, I do.”, she grins.

–

“And- and so- and then- she-”, you are laughing too hard to finish your own story, stomach cramping from how hard you’re laughing. 

Ellie’s head is thrown back in laughter finding your lack of composure funnier than the story you were telling. 

It seemed after every puff of the joint you two shared you would somehow end up closer. Now as the roach has been tossed onto the coffee table in front of you two, you are practically tangled together. 

Finally gaining some composure, you look at her, hands tangled together as you lean against her. 

“Okay! Okay! I’ve got a good one, what was your first time getting high like?”, you ask, face inching closer as the questions go by. 

She lets out a breathy laugh, remembering the painfully embarrassing memory.

“Fuck…okay so me and my friend Dina decided to get high together for the first time-”

“Is that the girl who works the front desk at the shop!”, you interrupt cluelessly high.

She chuckles and gently grasps your chin, tilting your head to look at her with red rimmed eyes, “Yes it is but are you gonna let me finish my story, hm?”, she teases you in a gentle tone but nonetheless it makes you rub your thighs together. Ellie’s eyes flicker down at the motion, quickly darting back up.

Nodding your head with a quiet hum you zip your lips and give her your full attention. She chuckles and releases your chin, her hand going back into your tangle of fingers. 

“So we decided to get high together for the first time and we were idiots who thought’ Let's do an edible for our first time getting high!’, but we ate…the whole fucking thing”, she chuckles at the ‘uh oh’ face you make at her.

“Yeah, so it went about as bad as you can imagine. We had no clue just how fucking strong edibles are especially when you eat the whole god damn brownie! Dina ended up sitting in the tub the whole time because she insisted it was the only place she was safe. On the other hand I thought I was fucking dying but was too nervous to tell my Dad what we had done…so we just waited it out and to this day it felt like I was high for seventy-two hours straight.”, she finishes laughing and shaking her head at how stupid they were.

A laugh spills out of you and you fall into Ellie’s chest in laughter, “That is terrible! You poor poor stupid kids!”. As your laughter fades you find yourself melting into her chest and laying your head against her.

Loving the feeling of your body pressed flush against hers she brings her left arm up and around your body keeping you close to her. Feeling a calm confidence from the weed floating through your body you tilt your head up, faces so close you can feel her breath. Leaning forward you place your lips on hers, sighing when her hand that was around you wraps in your hair and pulls in. Your tongues meet each other is a match for desperation, her hands wandering and resting at the edge of your skirt. Your hips unconsciously shift toward her hand and your lips begin to travel to her jaw and her neck, switching between kisses and love bites that make Ellie shudder and grip your body.

Kissing up to her ear you gently nip at it, whisper, “Take me to the bathroom.”. Smirking when your whispering causes her to shiver.

–

As soon as the door is shut you are back on each other. Kissing in a frenzy. You nip at her bottom lip with a smile. Her lips meet your neck with kisses and bites, pulling moans and whines from you. She grabs your waist and you jump onto the counter behind you. You shiver as her kisses and bites move toward your chest as she leaves even more marks on you. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”, she mumbles against your skin, singing praises into your body. Lust floods your lower belly and you can feel the embarrassing puddle forming in your panties. A gasp escapes you at the feeling of her ripping your tights, fingers finding your weeping cunt. 

“Fuck baby. All this for me? Fuck you’re makin’ such a mess already.”, she speaks against your skin. The feeling of her lips on your skin, her words making you shiver, and her fingers teasing you over your panties is too much but not enough. 

“Ellie please.”, you whine out, feeling desperate. She chuckles at your state, feeling proud at how fucked out you look and she hadn’t even taken off your panties. 

“What baby? Tell me what you want.”, she mumbles against your lips, holding eye contact.

“Please touch me!”, you whimper, feeling shameless at the admission. 

“Such a good fucking girl.”, she praises as she pulls your panties aside and teases your sensitive clit with her thumb. Pulling at your tights she mumbles, “Take these off.”

You wiggle your tights off kicking them away and lift your butt as Ellie pulls your panties off, tossing them with your tights. A loud whine comes from you as Ellie drops to her knees and lets her tongue find your swollen clit. Hands needing to hold something you let one find her hair and the other palms your tits through your shirt.

“Fuck you taste so fucking good baby.”, she says in a raspy voice. 

Her hands wrap around your thighs, fingers pressing into the soft flesh, as she pulls you to the very edge of the counter giving her even more space to devour you. The band in your lower belly stretches more and more. 

Your eyes are hooded and cloudy as you look down and the band stretches even more when you see Ellie already looking at you. Tears blur your vision as the eye contact seems to spur her even more. Low moans of satisfaction escaping her throat.

“F-fuck! Oh my god-”, you moan and realize how loud you’re getting so you cover your mouth with your hand, only letting quiet whimpers and whines escape you. 

Ellie flattening her tongue and holding the same perfect motion against your clit causes the band to finally snap. Your cunt clenches around nothing and your vision blurs as you throw your head back, thighs shaking and cramping. 

Ellie is relentless with her tongue causing your whole body to tremble from overstimulation. Your hands roughly thread through her hair trying to pull her back as pathetic whines escape you.

“S’too much! Ellie- ple- please! Too sensitive!”, you whine and whimper, practically in tears. 

She pulls back, chuckling at your fucked out state. Breathing heavily you look down as she stands, her lips and chin shiny from your slick. She looks like a fucking god the way she is smirking at you while covered in you. Reaching out you run your thumb over her chin and bring it to your mouth, holding eye contact. 

“Fuckin’ hell baby.”, she mumbles.

Grabbing handfuls of her hoodie you yank her into a deep kiss, tasting yourself on her tongue. Your hands fumble down to her jeans, undoing the button when a hand grabs your wrists earning a whine from you.

“Please Els. Wanna touch you.”, you whimper, giving your best puppy eyes. She chuckles, leaning down and kissing your neck, wrists still bound in her hands.

“Lemme take care of you tonight baby. I promise there’ll be time for me later.”, she mumbles, lips ghosting your ear. You pout but give a reluctant nod.

Gently pulling you off the counter and laughing at your dizzy head and wobbly legs. She tosses your torn tights in the trash and pockets your panties with a smirk. You give her wide eyes and stretch your hand out.

“Give those back! This skirt is too short for no panties!”, you say shimmying it down the best you can.

“Good thing we’re heading out then, huh? No one out there gets to see your pretty cunt but me baby don’t worry.”, she says and guides you out hand in hand.

taglist:

@ucannotcompare

[vernon-s-whore]

Till Forever Falls Apart Pt.1

Kim Taehyung and Original Male!Character

part 1 2

WARNINGS: stalking, curse words, smut ig?, non-consensual photography, non-con elements, yandere behaviour, obsessive toxic stalker, contains boy x boy so if y'all homophobic then shoo!, gore, drug use/abuse

Summary: You can't expect a horror story to have a happy ending, can you?

word count: 5.5k+

a/n: Been a while since i posted on Tumblr phew- part 2 will be up as soon as i finish it. This is cross posted on my ao3 btw. i don't have a beta so feel free to nicely point out grammar mistakes, if any

All names apart from BTS are fictional.

Link to AO3

The thing about this whole ordeal was how mundanely it started out.

Leaving high school opened a new world to him, away from his home and family and everything familiar. And thrill ran on the tails of unfamiliarity like an incessant kid not wanting their idol to leave them in the dust. So, he went ahead and got himself some friends, some girlfriends, even a boyfriend or two all in the first year of uni. It was fun, his flings never lasted more than a month or two but that was okay, he liked it. Liked that there weren’t any set expectations from him and he could just… enjoy for the first time in his life.

By second semester, he had a set group of friends. Seven boys apart from himself and five girls. All of them were smart and witty and yes, he did end up on the wrong side of the bed with Soyeon and Jimin once but it was all fun and games. They were friends. Nothing more, and everyone in the group knew it.

Namjoon knew that he had issues with commitment and took care of the questions whenever someone tried to set him up for a blind date. His girlfriend Hyunji, who had taken an almost parental role in the group along with Namjoon did worry for their young friend, but didn’t say much since she seemed to understand that he will do things his own way. He did feel jealousy sometimes, looking at Namjoon and Hyunji, Hoseok and Soyeon who got together in Hoseok’s second year, with their daily routines of coffee and dates and working in silence like they were made to fit together like puzzle pieces.

The only time he ever came close to such intimacy was one night in bed with Jimin. They both had gotten drunk and somehow, he had ended up inside Jimin that night, and woken up beside him that morning and felt at peace for the first time in over seven months with his slender sunbae smiling beside him and asking if he slept well.

Jimin had roused him for breakfast and for once, he thought that yes, routine and familiarity could be a part of his life, but then Jimin got together with Jungkook a few weeks later, after months of the younger crushing on his hyung and any hopes he had of maybe getting attached to someone were dashed brutally.

He would’ve dealt with it most unhealthily, if not for Taehyung and Yoongi. Yoongi who had functioned as an outlet for him about his insecurities of ever creating fulfilling relationships and Yoongi’s words sit with him till this date.

The love you feel for people doesn’t always have to end with one in the other’s pants. You have fulfilling relationships. You have us.

He did have them. His seven boys and five girls who he would trust with his life. When Seokjin and Petra got together in the beginning of his second year, he was not really surprised. By that point he had assumed all of them would pair off with each other, leaving him alone at the end.

Seokjin and Petra, Hoseok and Soyeon, Namjoon and Hyunji, Jungkook and Jimin, and Yoongi who finally came out as ace and aro.

Which left sweet baby Taehyung who was just a few months older than him, alternating between babying him and acting like a responsible hyung around him. After his one-sided fling with Jimin, he felt the closest to Taehyung if no one else. The boy who was Jimin’s best friend helped him let go of whatever feelings he still harboured for the dance major with his snide jokes and incessant photos of his Yeontan and dragging him out of bed on weekends for outings and picnics and mall jaunts and whatnot, till they began falling into a rhythm.

Taehyung would initiate everything, and he would follow like a willing puppy, eager to please the boy but at the end unable to display his eagerness, most of it coming out as bored disinterest. Maybe if he had taken the initiative to ask Taehyung out once in a while, things would have gone differently. Maybe if he hadn’t been such a passive person all his life, he could’ve avoided the grotesque distortion of their friendship.

In their third year it so happened that Taehyung got asked out by one of the juniors.

Lee Eunso.

She was everything Taehyung could have wanted. Tall but not too tall, slim hips and long legs, tits that wouldn’t quit, straight brown hair and a face perfect enough to rival Taehyung’s himself. She was smart, and polite and confident in herself, which was appealing to Taehyung’s ideal type which he had talked about in their first year.

And while Taehyung was getting asked out and probably entering one of his real, serious relationships, he was watching on the side-lines and feeling that sense of abandonment again which, he had last felt with Jimin two years ago. The metaphorical wound in his chest throbbed again, the same way it had done when he saw Jimin kissing Jungkook in the cafeteria two years ago.

Over the next few weeks, unknowingly, he began distancing himself from Taehyung who spent more and more time with Eunso and less with the group. The others understood this, understood that one of their maknaes was branching out and developing his own social life and network out of their friend group. Soyeon and Hyunji would pester Taehyung for info on his girlfriend but he would just flash one of his adorable smiles and let go of the topic.

But he couldn’t look at Taehyung without hurting himself. From the wrist that Eunso would grip delicately to the cheeks she would kiss every morning in the hallway, he couldn’t bear looking at Taehyung anymore, withdrawing into a shell without knowing he was even doing it.

And since he wasn’t looking at Taehyung, was actively avoiding looking at his friend’s face, he didn’t notice that the moment Hyunji turned away from him, the smile dropped from Taehyung’s features, replaced by a carefully calculating blank look. And who else was he assessing but his lost best friend, who was going through his SNS but not really paying attention to it, thumb moving mechanically over the screen till Eunso arrived and sat beside Taehyung and kissed him hello, much to his chagrin.

That weekend, Eunso invited the whole of Taehyung’s group over to her fraternity house for a birthday bash. The friends went as a whole unit to the mansion-like place, grouped off in twos and threes till he was left standing and wondering where should he go. The solitude which had been an old friend now felt like a looming presence, branding him black and singling him out from the neon lights which glared everywhere.

A rich girl’s party, that’s all this was. A rich girl and her rich friends, and her rich friends’ rich boyfriends.

So, what am I doing here? He thought to himself before going to the kitchen and getting himself a beer, fear like a trapped bird thrashing against his ribcage.

It was an odd feeling, this fear. That something was about to change monumentally as electro pop thumped around him, beat heavy and echoing in his sternum till he felt he was walking in a psychedelic dream of smut and degradation, of people making out on the living room floor to a few snorting lines of coke in a washroom. The extremely rich kids who could afford the drugs.

With each cup of alcohol downed, the mansion seemed to grow alive, a sentient being growing out corridors and staircases and attics and basements only for him to discover, stumbling from one room to another to find one filled with the smoke from pot, another where a couple fucked against the wall, one which was blissfully empty.

But he had no idea how he got to this gorgeously empty and silent room- in a basement? In a second basement? How many floors under am i?- which was like a paradisical sanctuary from the headache blossoming at the base of his skull.

He stumbled forward at a slight nudge from behind him.

Alcohol was instrumental that night. Because that night, he didn’t drink to get drunk and have fun. That was the first night he drank to kill something. To kill the sorrow taking root in him like a poisonous weed. Prior to entering the room he’d only been drunk, good old sir alcohol warming his belly and lungs but doing nothing to warm his soul. But after entering the room, the weight of the past few months came crashing down now that all the walls he had carefully built between him and his emotions were dismantled brick by brick by a simple chemical compound.

The lights in the room were off. He could still hear the loud music, but it all felt distant, in another world. He should go back to his friends, really, but the silence and the darkness was so good and the bed. The bed in the room was so inviting.

He put one wobbly foot in front of another and walked into the dark room, not realising something was behind him. Someone was behind him. The someone walked into the dark room along with him, on footsteps that were quieter than a mouse’s and he didn’t realise in the dark of the room that he is not alone.

The plastic cup of alcohol in his hand was gone now, dropped to the floor, and rolled off somewhere on the bare tile as his body collided with the mattress and his face fell on soft pillows smelling like someone’s shampoo. He inhaled deeply, not caring whose smell it was, not knowing that there was a someone in the room with him, only wanting the headache to disappear.

He was too far gone to care as someone kneeled next to the bed, watching his prone form intently in the slight light entering from the windows. They reached out a hand and touched his hair softly, brushing away strands and wondering how many other people had done the same thing.

How many people had touched what was theirs and dirtied him? How many has slept beside him and thought he belonged to them?

Too many. That’s what.

Someone ran a thumb over his cheek before pressing their lips to the cheekbone. Warm. So warm.

And all mine. They smiled satisfyingly before tugging off their shoes and lying next to him, curving their body around him so they could feel all of him in his arms, drunk and passed out and completely unaware of the someone beside him who held him like glassware.

Fragile and precious. Someone thought that night in that room as their lips slid across his cheekbone and down his neck, leaving perfunctory bites and bruises, staining, marking, claiming.

The black shirt he was wearing was unbuttoned gently, so as to not wake him. He wouldn’t wake for another four hours, and in the light of the morning, he would look at his bruised body and wonder who he spent the night with. But it would all be a clean blank in his memory.

They trailed their fingers from his collarbone down to his chest, marking the smooth skin in the dark, hands marking a path down his body where soon lips would follow right after. He still slept soundly as they looked up and admired his sleeping face, highlighted by the moonlight, thrown into stark relief by shadows and ran their mouth along the thin line of hair that ran from his navel and down to the waistband of his pants. They stopped there.

It was enough for tonight.

They took out their phone, opening the camera and arranging him carefully, shirt open, smooth marked skin of torso up for display and straddled his hips, positioning themselves to take the pictures.

Blue and purple and red bruises blossoming on skin, rendered to life by a special someone and made immortal digitally, they went through the photos they clicked and chose a few, before getting off his lap and tugging on their shoes and exiting the room, leaving him sleeping behind.

___________

“Where did I put it..,” he muttered riffling through the racks of clothes looking for a certain black shirt.

“Hey man, it’s no problem if you don’t have it,” Hoseok replied, “I’ll ask Gguk or someone to lend it.”

“I think you should call them, cuz for some reason the fucker’s gone missing,” he answered back, frustrated at the loss of one of his favourite clothing items.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure it’ll show up in the laundry,” Hoseok clapped him on the shoulder and walked outside, dialling up Jungkook to lend him a black shirt for a dance performance since his own got torn during practice.

He sighed and sat down at his desk, hoping his roommates would finish their band practice quickly, because the drumming was developing into a pounding headache.

He was bunked in with two first years and was now regretting rejecting Taehyung’s order to move in with him. Taehyung had gotten his own apartment finally, raking in money from modelling gigs. With a face like that and a voice like his, he could have been accepted in any idol company, but he chose to pursue a degree in art and sculpture. He sighed. One of the younger boys must have taken his shirt by mistake. And one of his jeans. And a pair of shorts he loved sleeping in.

He got up from his desk and rolled onto his bed, weary to the bone, literature assignments pending but he couldn’t bring himself to write the 10k word short story their teacher had assigned them as their final project. He wanted to be a little experimental and write romance this time. But the thing was he had no idea what romance is like.

Smut? Sure. Murders? That’s cool. How two people fall in love? Oh, dear lord, someone save him.

A buzz in his pocket alerted him to a text.

Jungkook. Asking if he wants to go clubbing.

Who else? He texts.

Tae hyung, Jimin hyung and Hyunji noona. Rest are busy. Jungkook replies.

I’ll be there at 10.

He decided to take a nap and set an alarm for 9 p.m. That would be enough for a decent two-hour nap. Sighing and not bothering to shut off the lights in his room, he curled around his blanket and closed his eyes.

When he woke up, he felt overly warm. He should have undressed before sleeping, really. Now sweat ran down his spine and his clothes were soaked. The blanket was carefully tucked around him instead of tossed onto the floor as per usual.

He frowned. He didn’t remember doing it. He never tucks the blanket around him all the way like a cocoon, that’s only reserved for when he has a cold and Taehyung or Jungkook or Yoongi do it for him.

Maybe one of the dongsaengs did it. He shook his head and tossed the rest of the blanket away and noticed the table lamp. It was off.

He distinctly remembers leaving it on.

Leave it, maybe Jinsung came in. He thought to himself. Lee Jinsung was the most caring out of the three occupants of the shared apartment but even he didn’t barge into people’s rooms to tuck them in and turn off their lights. Nevertheless, he just shrugged it off, too groggy and in need of food to pay attention to the possible electricity bill that comes from leaving a damned lamp on.

He switched on some of the brighter lights in his room before leaving to wash his face in the bathroom. For a mild second a sense of being watched ran down his spine. But then it was gone and he went along his merry way, splashing water on his face and into his mouth, flushing out the taste and smell of sleep from himself.

An hour later he was slow dancing with Hyunji noona, who was recounting how Namjoon wants to go on a trip to Europe. He was making good money from the seminars and classes he was taking as a career guidance counsellor and they planned to leave on the trip just as soon as Hyunji’s graduation was wrapped up.

He liked listening to his noona talk about all the plans she was making with his hyung. It was a strange sort of comfort wishing what he wanted for himself on others. And under the cover of dark, he liked how she was trusting him with bits and pieces of their future, hopes and dreams conveyed in little words and smiles and squeeze of hands on his shoulders.

Later, he and Taehyung were reclined on one of the couches in the corner of the club, feet propped on the table in front of them which was cluttered with empty shot glasses. His head felt fuzzy but not that bad. He was nowhere near as drunk as he had been at Eunso’s frat house.

He felt someone’s hand on his thigh and looked up to see Taehyung grinning at him, “Yah! It’s been so long since just us hanging out!” He yelled over the thumping beats as their companions danced in front of them, Jimin teasing Jungkook by running away with Hyunji noona occasionally before his boyfriend would catch him.

He looked at Taehyung and couldn’t help but see Eunso’s face in the eye of his mind.

However, he yelled back, “Yeah man! Kinda missed you.”

“You better, you asshole!” Taehyung said before ruffling his hair in a hard brotherly way. He ignored the way his chest tightened at the contact with Taehyung’s hand, stifled the way a lump formed in his throat as Taehyung pulled away.

If only Eunso didn’t exist, then maybe, just maybe Taehyung could have been his. But she did exist and all these cravings for Taehyung were just cravings for love, not Taehyung himself.

He didn’t stop himself from relishing Taehyung’s grip on his thigh though, long beautiful hand resting casually on the black denim. He wanted to hold that hand but instead held a glass and poured alcohol down his throat.

_____________

“God this test was terrible,” he groaned, resting his head on his forearms as Soyeon rubbed circles on his back. Hoseok and Namjoon had graduated with flying colours and meanwhile the third years were giving their final exams. He was still left to submit the short story for literature but he was sure he was going to flunk it. Romance was just not his thing… and he didn’t have the means to redo the assignment again in two days.

“What’s wrong?” Taehyung asked, sitting across from him with a tray of food. He had wanted to visit Taehyung’s sculpture display, but he didn’t want to go there with a sullen face when his hyung was so happy with his work. “You didn’t come by this morning.” There was sadness in Tae’s voice.

His heart clenched painfully at seeing the hurt reflected in the older’s eyes and in that moment even Soyeon’s comforting hand could do nothing to lessen the pain in his chest and stomach.

“Sorry hyung,” he muttered, eyes downcast. “Scheduling conflict.”

“It’s okay you and I can go together in the evening,” Taehyung said, reaching over and patting his forearm gently. “Take a nap when you go home, you look like shit.”

He chuckled and nodded, “I will, hyung.”

_______________

“Hyung… this is amazing,” he breathed, looking at the display Taehyung had created with clay.

Two bodies, genderless, androgynous, intertwined with each other so you couldn’t see where one ended and the other began, twisted together in love, but if you looked closer, there were ropes on their wrists, tied to their abdomens, hooks digging into skin, crafted carefully from pieces upon pieces of clay, chains holding them close, forcing them close, melding them together till they were smelted into being one.

What he initially thought were their mouths agape in the act of pleasure now seemed to resemble gaping screams as their individuality was ripped from them.

“Hyung?” He looked at Taehyung who was staring ahead.

“Yes?” He kept looking ahead not meeting the younger’s eyes.

“Why did you make this?”

“It was my term project.”

“No I meant… why this?”

Taehyung thought for a moment, inhaling deeply before letting loose a slow breath, turning his face to the younger. His eyes were hard, glinting dangerously in the lighting of the exhibit.

“What is love according to you?” He questioned the younger, voice velvety smooth.

“L-Love?” He started, not expecting to be interrogated. Taehyung simply nodded, “You wrote a romance for your term project, what do you think is love?”

“Love… when people fit together like puzzle pieces...? When they are made for each other and complement each other…” he trailed off looking at the two humans twisted around each other rendered in clay, who fit like perfect puzzle pieces, literally crafted to fit each other.

He didn’t notice Taehyung’s fists clench, didn’t see the slow smile that crept onto his hyung’s face on hearing these words from his dongsaeng.

“Then this is love,” Taehyung answered, pointing ahead of himself at the screaming, hurting people. “See how they fit together?” The slight smirk on his face was unsettling as he admired his creation.

He could see what Taehyung meant. He really could. But this was not… love. Was it? This was not what love was. Love was Namjoon hyung bringing photos of turtles to show Hyunji noona. Love was Soyeon delivering lunch to Hobi hyung. Love was Jungkook and Jimin holding hands sneakily in the corridors.

Love was not this… was it?

He winced at the stutter in his voice, but he needed to say it. “This isn’t love, this looks like obsession.” He said, referring to the hooks and chains and ropes and pins holding the figures together.

“Love is obsession, aegi,” Taehyung said, chuckling darkly. He didn’t like how his hyung sounded in that moment, so he just blurted what came first to his mind.

“Well to be fair, I have no idea, I haven’t had a single proper love,” chuckling nervously he looked around, anywhere but at the tortured victims. “Love could be anything, I guess. Hell, there are different kinds of loves you know?” His voice was taking a slightly panicky tint. ���Platonic and romantic and all that bullshit-“ he was rambling. He knew he was rambling, but something was unsettled in the pit of his stomach.

Something to do with Taehyung. The hurt in Taehyung’s eyes, the lead in his voice, the mania which underlined his words about love. Love is obsession, aegi.

“You are correct, there are many different loves,” taehyung smiled. And just like that, the dark frightening man was gone replaced by his bubbly hyung who was just showing him an unsettling piece of art. “Do you need help with your story? I heard you complaining to Soyeon the other day.”

His heart unravelled in relief as Taehyung’s voice softened and he sighed.

“Yeah… I actually have no idea what to write and I think I wrote something very cliched,” he admitted, partially ashamed.

“Well let’s fix it then, come on,” Taehyung clapped him on the shoulder and turned away from the exhibit, walking away. Giving one last look to the sculpture, he followed right after his hyung, heart still uneven from the weird tone that Taehyung had used.

They sat till late that night on his bed, Taehyung going over his story and making suggestions. Cliches were fine but language could be improved on. He added phrases and cut over explanation. He realised however, that with Taehyung’s additions the story was starting to take a much darker undertone. What had started out as a simple college romance/coming of age story was now morphing into a psychological analysis of love and stalking punctuated with moments of gruesome violence and desperation.

By the time they were done, it was three in the morning and he was ready to crash, mind overflowing with words and paragraphs.

“Stay the night hyung,” he mumbled sleepily, as Taehyung went over the final draft once again.

“I will,” Taehyung nodded, scrolling through the words upon words. Taehyung glanced at the younger one who had a tired smile on his lips, eyes nearly closed. Taehyung waited and watched as he fell asleep, head lolling against the headboard.

He removed the younger’s outer clothes and tucked him into the blankets before slipping out of his own shirt and getting under the blankets too, sleeping peacefully with his dongsaeng’s warmth barely six inches away.

________________

Three weeks later, he knew someone had been in his room. Not one of the dongsaengs, because Jinsung and Dagam were gone on a trip with friends to celebrate the term end.

Nothing was out of place in the apartment, but he just knew someone had been there. The door was partially ajar when he came in and he remembered closing it properly after him before leaving for school. So, who was the creep who entered his home?

He found a vague answer on his desk.

A sticky note attached to his laptop.

Welcome home, love.

“Maybe it’s one of the hyungs’ pranks,” he thought to himself, studying the note carefully. It didn’t match anyone’s handwriting as far as he could remember though. He felt unsettled knowing his privacy had been invaded so easily when he was gone.

Someone had placed it there between 9 a.m. and 3 p.m. when he was at school.

The question was who?

__________________________

Three days later Dagam returned from the trip without Jinsung and he was sure something had gone wrong before the younger even opened his mouth to say anything.

“Wha-“

“Jinsung is dead,” he whispered. “Someone killed him.”

For a full whole minute he didn’t understand what Dagam was saying. Jinsung is dead. What? Jinsung. Dead. Hyung? He’s dead-

He caught Dagam before the younger collapsed onto the floor sobbing heavily and clutching at his sweatshirt crying, “ Hyung he’s gone and th-they think it was an ac-accident,” Dagam sniffled.

He had never seen his junior show such emotion so he wasn’t sure what to do except let Dagam cry into his shoulder, half screams half sobs falling from his mouth.

“What do you mean? Someone killed him?” He whispered to Dagam once the younger quietened a little, breathing punctuated only by an occasional sniffle.

Dagam nodded against his chest, seeming smaller than his actual 6 ft height, curled up in a messy ball of grief.

“I saw someone go in-into his room,” Dagam whispered, as if the walls had ears.

Maybe they did.

“Someone went in his room b-but the cameras… the cameras hyung!"

"What? The cameras what, Dagam?!" He shook the younger by his shoulders, gripping them tightly to ground the panicking boy.

"The cameras were blank, hyung," he finished softly." Entire folders cleared. No one saw Jinsung's killer."

His eyes widened as Dagam's explanation came to a halt. Jinsung dead. The note on his desk.

Someone in his home. Someone killed his dongsaeng.

But why would someone target Jinsung?! He kept racking his brains till Dagam's subsequent bout of sobbing stopped and he passed out in his arms on the living room floor.

They held a memorial service for him. Jinsung. Only his mother came. She fainted halfway through the ceremony. Most of the art and sculpture department was there to offer condolences. Jinsung's father was a no-show. His younger brother of twelve did the religious rituals for his hyung. The boy looked paler than milk as he finished the funeral rights and subsequently was found throwing up in the men's washroom crying for his older brother.

That night another note was taped to his bedroom door.

I love you, I did it for you. I'm sorry.

So his suspicions were confirmed. His stalker was the killer. He decided to go to the police but hail the police force of South Korea, they refused to investigate.

The case of Jinsung being killed was a closed case and out of the jurisdiction of the local police. The mountains where Jinsung and Dagam had gone with his friends were a different prefecture all together.

Besides, he had no hard evidence apart from a sticky note and even that didn't explicitly state what was it that the stalker had done. Since no physical harm had been caused to the one being stalked they couldn't take any action yet, especially since they had no lead on who might be the stalker.

He double checked all doors and windows before sleeping including Dagam's and changed the pass code on his door.

Sleep didn't come that night, though.

___________________

Three days later, he received another note, this one on his window. His fucking window. The damned apartment was seven floors up so how?!

Thankfully, the note was on the outside which gave him some sense of safety that the stalker/killer hadn't entered his house again.

I will have to do it again, I'm sorry. You can stop me though, if you want to. Remember, I love you so much.

The pale yellow sticky note went up in flames as he flicked his lighter open and burned the damn thing to ash.

He approached Dagam, who was reclined on the couch playing games.

"Dagam you need to move out," he said, trying to keep his voice gentle. "As soon as possible. You need to get out."

Dagam looked up, flustered, eyes rimmed red from too much screen time and also from crying day and night. "Hyu-"

"You have to leave. You can't stay here anymore," he said, pulling the younger one to his feet. "If you don't want to end up like Jinsung, do as I say."

"Hyung what are you-"

"You need to get out by tomorrow morning. No arguments. Ask Namjoon hyung to get you a dorm on campus and do not roam around alone, especially not at night."

Dagam looked like he wanted to argue but they didn't have time for it so he stopped barking orders at the younger and gave him a one-line explanation.

"I think the person who killed Jinsung is the same one who has been stalking me," his throat caught on the word 'stalking'.

But at least, on hearing this, Dagam understood why he was being thrown out. By that night, his packing was finished and a motel room had been arranged till he could find a dorm.

Two days later, Dagam moved in with three other first years of his major. Hopefully  this would be enough to keep him safe.

He received a note that night, on his dining table.

Good job, love. You saved him. I have a gift for you.

And next to the notes a discreet grey square box. He eyed it apprehensively, the silence of the empty apartment weighing on him too much. He felt like someone was watching him, keeping an eye on his reaction. So he schooled his features into a mask and opened the box.

Inside was a single photo of him, bruised and half naked, passed out on a bed taken from an angle that showed every single detail of his torso.

The scary thing about it was how closely the photo had been clicked. It wasn't some wide angle lens kinda shit, it was a plain old photo from a plain old mobile phone and his stalker had been close enough to click this picture.

Jinsung's killer had been inches away from him while he had been unconscious at that damn frat party.

He tore the photo into pieces before dropping them back into the grey box.

The stalker had been inside his house again. For fuck's sake-

He went to check the security cameras and after much pleading, got access to the one near the elevator. The stairs and elevator had a blind spot but right around the end of the video which was timestamped 2 p.m. today, he saw a flicker of black at the edge of the screen. The tip of a shoe and a leg before those too disappeared from sight.

He changed the passcode again and checked every single window in all three rooms, before locking the two rooms shut with the master key and then heading to his own bedroom. But nothing would remove the sense of being watched.

He could tell his friends. Jungkook and Jimin and Taehyung and Yoongi and the Noonas and Soyeon… they could all help. Maybe even Eunso could help.

"I'll tell them tomorrow," he said out loud, as if saying it out loud will make it concrete. "I'll tell them tomorrow and everything will be fine."

With that resolution, he crawled under his covers and tried to sleep. But he still felt like someone was in the room. There was no way he would be able to sleep with the lights off. So he turned on the light and froze in horror as his eyes shifted to the window.

His stalker stood in the balcony holding a camera.

[thisisawonderfulusername]

you’re back

five hargreeves x reader

requested: @generouswombyrat

prompts: 19- “oh, and s/he’s totally in love with you.”

again i changed the prompt up a bit, but i think it’s close enough

summary: when five returns from the future, old feelings resurface

warnings: fluff fluff fluff, a dash of angst. for once there isn’t any cursing (i’m pretty sure) lmao

word count: 1.5k

a/n: a few changes to the universe ig: five returns around the same age as the siblings, and not in his thirteen y/o body. reader is not one of the adopted ones, and not one of the forty-three. i was actually working on this all week while sitting in my classes lol. i really hope it meets expectations, i really like it myself. alrighty, enjoy!

the musical voice of tiffany darwish can be heard throughout the house, muffled through the walls of five’s childhood bedroom. you stand at the window, looking out at the fire escape you used to climb up, just to hang out with him.

with a sigh, you turn around to look at the rest of the room. it’s spotless. you assume it has been for a while now. grace definitely kept up with the whole house, even with all of the kids gone. there was no layer of dust, all of the old uniforms in the closet are still ironed. it brings you back to those days, and it’s hard to believe that it’s been sixteen years since he disappeared.

you can remember that day like yesterday, yet you were only thirteen then.

-

you looked up at the fire escape, taking a short breath. you have done this for years, and you had perfected the technique of getting your coffee and donuts past the ladder to the first platform.

the bag of donuts is held in your teeth, freeing one of your hands. the other holds the tray of the coffees, and you carefully put a foot on the first rung of the ladder, before grabbing on to the side it and pulling yourself.

it used to be a slow process, but you have mastered it by now. slide your hand up, and step up a few more rungs. when you got close enough, you placed the tray and donuts on the platform and climbed the rest of the way. luckily, the rest of the way up was stairs.

when you got to the window and knocked on the glass a few times, you expected five to open it like always, but instead it was vanya who appeared.

your eyebrows furrowed as she pushed the window open, and you hesitantly climbed in. sitting on the sill and silently dropping to the floor, to avoid the risk of his father finding out that you were here. “vanya? where’s five?”

she seemed nervous, which you thought was weird. you slowly placed the food on his desk as she played with her fingers.

“he’s- he’s gone, y/n.”

you think you’ve heard her wrong. you had to. there was just no way.

“what?” you question in disbelief, hating the small crack in your voice. “what do you mean, ‘gone’? what do you mean?” you sound more desperate the more you speak.

“he ran out.” she explains, avoiding eye contact. “during dinner. he was arguing with dad about time travel and he just- he just left.”

you fall onto the edge of his bed, feeling the tears beginning to swell in your eyes. “no.” you whisper to yourself, “no!”

before you know it, you’re sobbing, and vanya is at your side to comfort you.

-

you bite your lip as the memory rises to the surface. sitting on the bed, you focus on the lyrics playing.

i think we’re alone now

the beating of our hearts is the only sound

the music stops as there’s a loud rumble is heard outside. the whole house feels like it’s shaking and outside, there is flashing blue light that floods into the room through the window.

you run down the stairs, and into the large courtyard. there, in the sky, is a glowing blue portal type thing.

“what is it?” you hear vanya ask.

“don’t get too close!” allison’s voice, and then,

“yeah, no shit.”

luther pushes past everyone, looking up at the thing. “looks like some sort of temporal anomaly. either that or a miniature black hole. one of the two.”

“pretty big difference there, paul bunyan.” diego tells him.

“out of the way!” klaus comes running out of the house, and you quickly step to the side as he rushes forward with a fire extinguisher, spraying at the anomaly before giving up and just throwing it in. it disappears.

“what is that gonna do?” you shout over the loud rumbling.

“i don’t know,” klaus shrugs, a whine in his tone, “do you have a better idea?”

electricity starts to crackle around the portal, and klaus is falling back behind everyone again.

“everybody get behind me.” luther commands, and you don’t mind listening to him for once, but of course diego has to step in front too.

“i vote for running, come on!” klaus yells.

you watch as you can see a person pushing through before falling onto the ground from the portal.

as if it didn’t happen, the thunder and electricity in the air disappear, and all of you step forward towards the man. your eyebrows furrow as you think you recognize him while he is standing up.

“does anyone else see...” klaus points towards him, “he looks like a grown up five.”

your eyes widen as you realize that he’s right. “oh my god.” you rush forward, grabbing him and crushing him in a hug. “oh my god, you’re back!”

“they’re totally in love with each other.” you can hear klaus say it, and your face suddenly feels hot, but you choose to ignore it.

-

you’re back in his room, and the memory of him disappearing that day is replaced by all of the good times you had together. thinking about what klaus said, you think that he just might be right. you felt it when you were younger- of course you didn’t realize what it was at the time. you felt like a kid again. heart racing at the sight of him... all grown up.

yet he still looked like your five.

“i missed you.” your voice is surprisingly quiet as you lay on your back next to him, staring up at the ceiling as you play with your fingers that rest on your stomach.

“i missed you too.” his voice is quiet as well, and you turn your head ever so slightly to catch a small glimpse at him.

biting your lip for a moment, you think about what to say. “where were you?” you decide to ask, and you can tell that the question makes him tense for a moment.

he takes a glance at you, before taking a deep breath. “i got stuck in the future.” he tells you, and your eyebrows furrow slightly.

“stuck?” you repeat.

“yeah.” he gives a small nod with the confirmation, “i overestimated myself, and the consequences were like some sort of sick punishment. i should have just listened to that old man.”

there’s quiet for a moment as you wonder what he meant by a punishment. turning on your side, you look at him. “what do you mean? was it not just… normal?”

his head turns and his eyes meet yours, and you can see some sort of pain in them. “it was an apocalypse.”

you’re stunned into silence, and your lips just hang apart as you try to process his confession. “i don’t know how it happened, but there was fire and everything was just crumbled to the ground and-” he gulps slightly, and your eyes soften, “i saw all of them. dead.”

“oh my god, five.” you know who he meant, and you can only imagine what he felt in that moment. your hand meets his and you hold it softly. “i’m so sorry.”

“it wasn’t your fault.” you can feel his grip around your hand tighten slightly. “i just wish i wasn’t stupid enough to actually try that.”

“well...” you pause for a moment, not exactly sure what to say. “you’re back now, and that’s all that matters.” of course it’s not all that matters. he must have gathered so much trauma over the sixteen years he was stuck in a literal wasteland… you couldn’t imagine having to go through that.

he’s quiet for a second, before he turns on his side as well and your eyes meet. it was like staring into the past. “it is.” his agreement is surprising, but it makes you smile softly.

a long silence falls, and it feels like you’re just staring into his eyes for what could be hours, but in reality it was only really a few minutes or even less.

you take a shaky breath. “can i kiss you?” the question slips from your mouth unexpectedly, and you nearly slap yourself in the face. “god, i’m sorry, i didn’t mean-”

you aren’t able to finish your apology for the words you blurted out because he had leaned forward and caught your lips in his.

it seemed like something you were waiting for for years. maybe you were. it felt right.

it doesn’t last long enough for you, but you feel like the oxygen has been sucked from your body as you open your eyes to look at him. a small smile spreads across your face.

“i’m glad you’re back.”

taglists

main: @horrorklaus @megasimpleplan4ever  

tua: @rasberrymay @noodlextrash @atomicpillar @malfovs  @andreasworlsboring101​  

five taglist: @anapocalypseinmymind @five-hargreeves-official @insatiable-ivy @coffee-e-addict @xplrreylo @fandomfreakff @colie-babi @flowertoty @avovada @badwolf00593

[soldmysoultootomeboys]

Hi! Can I request headcannons for the human brothers accidently summoning an angel mc instead of a demon and the angel mc insisting on sticking around and helping them?

The other brothers: :) Satan: >:)

This has been in the drafts for too long. I really love the absolute mood switch between Lucifers and Mammons. And just Satans in general ig.

Lucifer

After years of religious trauma at the hands of his father Lucifer finally thought he was free of any connection to the church. Summoning a flaming seraphim at 3 in the morning was not a pleasant way to find out that he was wrong.

As for you, being summoned for the first time in your long long life was an unwelcome surprise. You were a seraphim for heaven's sake. The cream of the crop, highest of the high, and that wasn’t pride speaking only facts. You were crucial to running the celestial realm.

But somehow you’re undeniably tied to his human. You could feel where his soul became intermeshed with your very essence. How wrong it felt to be tied to something so mortal, and delicate, and free.

Any attempts to leave would surely be met with disaster.

So you stay. Lucifer is cold. You can’t blame him. Being there reopens old wounds that he’d rather have remained closed. But just ignoring each other isn’t going to work.

He’s not interested in the celestial realm, and despises any blessing you try and give him, but a fresh cup of coffee during an all-nighter seems to make him brighter than any magic you could do and when you run your hands through his hair he looks at you with more fondness than you can comprehend.

You learn to be more human. He learns to let go of the past.

And one day you find that you don’t want to leave anymore.

For celestial sake that thought should as well be treason! But it’s true.

It’s a spring afternoon and Lucifer plays celestial lullabies on his piano and you want nothing more than for the beautiful night to come so you can sweep him in your arms and remind him how he glows.

You don’t know what is right and what is wrong anymore, but you know that this human is yours and you are his. To rip off your wings would be to find solace in his arms. But you can not give him that. This he knows.

So you promise to protect him, in words he can’t hear but he understands. The spread of your wings shield him from the world and you press blessings to his skin in the shape of the crescents in his back and your lips on his neck. If nothing else you’ll keep him safe. When the world seems too big and the stress of his life gets him down you’ll always be here for him to crawl back to. You can give him that much.

Mammon

That was it

You had to have been assigned the stupidest human in the world

When you were promoted to guardian angel you kinda thought it would be more ‘protecting orphans’ and ‘guiding lost puppies back home’ NOT watching a grown man spend his last paycheck on his eighth Nigerian prince scam

Seriously mammon? Did the prophetic dreams you sent mean nothing? The visions of the future he coincidentally had after hitting his head on a light post, only simple illusions? What more could you try beyond simply marching down their and clocking him on the head yourself?

...unless

Raphael would have your wings if you went to the human world. But that would be a lot less painful that having to watch whatever Mammon was going to do with all the rubber cement he just bought.

The next morning you decide to sneak down. The city was amazing, all colored light and fun machines that whizzed by you on the streets

But you had to stay focused

You were an angel on a mission

You made your way towards central park. Mammon went there every morning to swindle tourists out of their wallets. If you were fast you’d get there before the first patrol office started chasing him.

Spotting the albino you marched straight towards him, readied yourself, and smacked him over the head.

Maybe not very angel-like but it worked.

One introduction later and you're officially a guardian angel

Mammon’s actually pretty nice once you get to know him. Sure he may be a bit too obsessed with lining his pockets but for all his talk he never hesitates to try and help you out.

Consistent affection and care is good for him. He never really knows how to react when you wrap your wings around him but even with his tsundere objections it's obvious he’s pleased.

He’ll take whatever scraps of affection you’ll give him and practically beams at every little gesture you do, no matter how small or insignificant.

You do have to be careful though.

At his request you had attempted to bless him with a bit of luck. An easy enough spell for an angel like you (even if you were 90% sure he planned to go gambling after). Whatever scheming he’s doing immediately stops the moment you cup his face. He seems to freeze when you lean in, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek

You were about to congratulate yourself on a spell well done when you noticed the condition he was in. He was like a living statue, a statue with a very very red face

Before you can ask what was wrong he flails pushing you away and darting off to his room

Any attempts to speak to him the rest of the day were met with incoherent shouting.

It might be best to withhold any magic until you can figure out how humans work

Levi

Once again Levi’s dedication to anime gets him into trouble

It started with his most recent obsession, a new anime that follows a group of angels, produced by the famous company, Dove. The plot, the animation, the soundtrack, all of it was amazing so when they came out with a new limited edition item featuring the very symbol that the main character wore he just had to have it

The moment it came he was setting it up on its own altar, a handmade replica just like in the show only for- Oh no

Before his eyes burst a shining visage of light and then you

You blink in surprise, whether it's from taking a human form for the first time in decades or the strange new room you were in, only you know

The scene may be foreign but the guy quivering on the floor was not

BE NOT AFRAID

Your booming voice echoes around the room

For some reason the guy begins to freak out even more

Didn’t he see your halo? You even told him to not be afraid. Were humans really so strange? :(

Oh well. You hum making your aura as comforting as possible and slowly the guy calms down enough for you to coax him into a seat as you begin to explain.

Which might not have been the best move.

The moment it sunk in he was bombarding you with questions

Yes you were an angel, no you didn’t know what anime was, yes you had wings, no you didn’t have any secret ultimate moves...whatever those were

He ranted and raved over this and that and you let him. He seemed like he needed someone to talk to. It also let you piece together what had happened.

He seemed to be a natural sorcerer, and a powerful one at that if he could someone an angel with no training or even knowledge that he could do magic

Just a few minutes in his presence made his self loathing obvious. Mix in a bit of anxiety and envy and you essentially have Levi in a nutshell

So you decide to stay

What kind of angel would you be if you just left him here? Michael would understand.

Or he wouldn't, it didn’t really matter because you already made up your mind.

Living with Levi is an experience for both of you.

He introduces you to so many new things. He had little boxes that could control light and screens containing actual people to talk to. It was all quite fanciful

In return you act as his friend, encouraging him to go out with you and attending cons with him, even if you still weren't exactly sure what cosplaying is

Slowly he begins to open up for you

He’s still nervous to go out in public, and a complete introvert at heart.

But that was fine. You could both figure out this new world together, at your own pace

Satan

Definitely was not trying to summon a demon to lay havoc on his enemies

Nope, not him he says all while trying to casually kick away vials of mysterious fluids

...Right

You’ve been down to the human world enough to know a demon summoner when you see one

Or in this case a failed summoner

He has no excuse for why he called you and instead seems more insistent that you leave

As much as you you might like to return to the celestial realm, you cannot in good conscience leave a man that you know is going to try and raise hell on earth the moment your gone

So you stay, and it's a good thing you do

This man has anger issues like no other

You thought Raphael was bad this guy is like a demon himself

However he seems willing to try and make the best of what he considers a bad situation

He asks you a lot of questions on the celestial realm

For a guy who knows so much about the devildom he seems to really be lacking on any knowledge on the other celestial beings

He mostly asks you questions on the celestial war, which is a touchy topic at best and downright upsetting at worst

He’s very interested in your opinions as your point of view is very different from his own, what with being a different species and everything

You learn things too, mostly about humans and cats but you suppose its a fair trade

Because of this you become close friends

You really win him over when he finds out your calming aura naturally attracts the stray kittens Satan's been trying to pet for the last few months

It’s not uncommon to head out to late night coffee shops and discuss the merits of different aspects of your lives

But maybe you’ve gotten a bit to close when he starts asking you to revise his summoning notes

Asmo

Apparently a lifetime of partying has prepared Asmo for some very weird discoveries

When you're sent down to the human world you have one job, find and keep an eye on the potentially dangerous summoner who's been in contact with multiple high level demons in the past few days.

Instead you end up meeting Asmo

You were prepared for a fight, not to be tackled into a hug the moment you revealed yourself

Asmo on the other hand is squealing with excitement

Sweetie, he's been waiting for this moment! This is his first time meeting an angel after all

He immediately begins talking about everything he wants to do

You quickly find out that he hasn’t made any pacts...yet, if only because he “couldn’t bear to damage his skin with such an ugly mark”

...Well you suppose that's a reason to not sell your soul

Even thoughts he's aware of the three realms it doesn’t make him any less enamoured with you

He’s never met an angel, he’s quick to mention. He’d love to get to know you, if you get what he means ;)

Are all humans so upfront?

If you decline he still wants to see your true form, even after you explain that no, if you transform you will not just be a beautiful angel with wings but instead a glowing mass of eyes and feathers and angelic light that will probably end up blinding him

Blinded because of your beauty ;) ;) ;)

That said he’s easily satisfied when you just bring out your wings.

He loves fussing with them and decorates them with jewelry and roses whenever you leave them out

He even starts an angel trend on insta after posting a photo as if they were coming from his back instead

Claims your glowing aura is great for his skin

You’re not sure if that’s a pick up line or if he’s serious but he definitely basks in your presence

Loves when you talk about the celestial realm, somewhere he desperately wants to go

I mean it's the only place that's fit for a beauty like him right? But of course he can’t die yet, his fans would be sooo upset

You agree to bring him up there one day, even if that sounds a little morbid

Of course he asks you to become his guardian angel

That may not be your actual job but you can’t resist his puppy dog eyes

You and him go pretty much everywhere together, bar some more xxx rated sites

He introduces you to parties and bars, and while you don’t indulge it's enjoyable to see humans in their natural element. They’re so fun and free spirited just like Asmo

Maybe that's what attracted you to him in the first place

He loves life for what it is, something so admirably human

But you don’t slack off either. You take your role as Official Guardian Angel seriously. You guard his drinks when he goes to the bathroom, and hum celestial lullabies when he’s sad and escort him down dark alleys when walking home. He has nothing to fear with you around.

You’ve become very fond of this human. Perhaps you’ll stick around a bit longer than you planned

Beel

It’s rare to be assigned to a human so...mundane

But that’s exactly what Beel is. He goes to the gym in the mornings, works a nine to five, and comes back home to his dog

He even has a good relationship with this family, do you know how hard that is to find in this day and age???

The only thing even slightly abnormal about this guy is his appetite

He could put a gluttony demon to shame with the way he eats

But the point is you really can’t figure out why you’ve been assigned to him or how your supposed to guide him

Eat a little less? Stop stealing your brother's lunch?

It’s the first time in a long while you’ve been so stumped

So you do what any sane angel would, go down to the human world to meet him yourself

He’s a likeable guy and it’s easy to get close to him, more so do to your angelic status

Although it’s surprising how well he takes the whole angel revelation

To be honest your pretty sure he forgets most of the time

He tends to follow you around, especially at night when he insists on walking you to wherever you need to be. It’s sweet even though there's little that can really harm you in the human realm

You quickly realize that he’s the type to have nightmares, usually calling out for one of his brothers or his sister

It’s become habit to wake up and head to his room

Just being there seems to calm him down

The first time he wakes up when your doing this he ends up asking you to stay

Isn’t shy about sharing the bed either.

He’s easy going so goes along with whatever idea you have

Especially when he starts finding snacks in his bag, each one blessed for a good day or to stay full or whatever little thing you thought of that day

Belphegor

Humans can’t see angels. Not unless they want to be seen, you remind yourself for what must be the tenth time.

But you’re almost certain that guy is looking right at you.

Step to the left, his head follows

To the right, his eyes narrow looking at you like your some puzzle he just hasn’t figured out yet

…this was fine

You turn around pretending to just not see him in hope that he’ll get distracted by something else

...you glance back. Why was he still looking at you? What is with this creep?

Enough is enough.

You march over there ready to ask what his problem is. Instead he beats you to it.

Eh? You’re an angel right? He asks before you can say anything.

???? Shouldn’t he sound more shocked.

The guy just sleepily blinks. He doesn’t look like a sorcerer or a witch, in fact you can’t feel any magic from him at all.

You go to ask only to realize he’s sound asleep. It’s not like you could just leave him here. And at the same time a human who can just see angels is an oddity of itself.

You decide to hang around for a while. Belphegor doesn't mind. He only says something about it being "too troublesome to drive you off," and "you'd look like you'd just come back anyways"

Belphie sticks to you like glue, if glue was absolutely insufferable and seemed to enjoy annoying you at every possible moment

You would think this would be easy. I mean he sleeps all day and when he’s not sleeping he’s napping. Simple enough right? Wrong

When he was awake he was committed to pushing every single button you have

If it seemed like it might inconvenience or annoy you he was already doing it. Trying to smack your halo, pounce on you, or even jump off the roof just to see you scramble to catch him. He was like some terrible terrible cat

Luckily he was never energetic for long. When he wore himself out he’d retreat to the roof of his crappy one bedroom and wait for you to join him

He liked to look at the stars and he’d point them out to you. Orion, Polaris, Sirius, he would mutter, bringing you back to the days when Michael, who was once so fond of you, would sneak you down to the human world just to show you the stars and darkness the celestial realm could not offer

When he finally got tired you would take over reciting Celestial names and marking the sky with your finger just to show him where they’d be.

Those times were pleasant. Even if they were brief.

“I’m gonna jump.”

“Do it.”

“You’re an angel. Aren’t you supposed to stop me before I do something stupid?”

“You won't.”

“Aight. Bet.” Belphie pitches forward and you just manage to catch him by the leg before he falls off the roof.

Brat.

Always ruining a good moment.

You can’t even be mad. The moment you pull him up he’s already resting his fluffy head in your lap waiting for you to pet him.

He may be the most troublesome human in the entire three realms, but he’s your human

[domesticblisss]

Nice to Meet You

Jay White x Female Reader Requested Prompt: “Hello! Thank you for opening requests. How about one with Jay White where he’s in New Japan and reader is in WWE and they end up following each other on ig or something and after awhile of messages and such they finally meet and get together? You can change things up if you want I just love the idea of 2 people from separate companies getting together lol ❤️ ” Rating: PG-13 Word Count: 1306 Warnings: Nothing, fluff as fuck with a tiny little bit of angst and some between the lines pinning and a little cursing. Summary: Mutual friends aren't enough for you to meet, but the internet is. A/N: Sorry it took me so long to post it, work has been crazy, then writer's block hit and when the inspirations finally got back to me, I had the shittiest week ever so I couldn't bring myself to write it. I hope it's at least a little bit good, and that my dear requester and you all like it. 💕

He always heard about her and she always heard about him. Only good things.

Shelley always gushed about how their styles were similar, Sabin went off countless times on how they should wrestle as a duo, and against each other, and Candice kept mentioning how they would look cute together.

But the friends in common weren't enough to make them meet each other and their hectic schedule never coincided. Soon, Jay shipped off to Japan full time and she finally got her NXT contract signed.

Jay was the one to take the first step. It was on a late saturday night, one of his few days off, when he finally decided to watch her debut match against Asuka after seeing it trending across social media and different news outlets.

She lost the match, but she gave the NXT Women’s Champion a run for her money. Hard kicks after hard kicks, asuka locks being countered several times, and the most incredibly performed top rope DDT he had ever seen. It was the hardest hitting women’s match he had seen in a while and he was amused with her talent, so amused he had to let the world know.

“@thisisfuryWWE nxt debut match was the best one I’ve seen in a long time. Can’t wait to see more of you 😉”

The message made her smile, the recognition from someone she always thought so highly of warming her heart.

“@JayWhiteNZ thank you! this means a lot coming from the #switchblade 🔪❤️”

With that came the mutual following on social media, then the likes, the casual comments turned into dm’s, turned into phone number exchanges, and soon, they didn’t know a life without each other.

Every day a “good morning” text would be sent by whoever woke up first and “sleep well” texts closed off the night. The time zone was messy, but they always found a way to talk to each other, losing count of how many nights were poorly slept and the amount of coffee they drank on the morning after.

Little “this made me think of you” messages were sent whenever a dog picture or a meme came their way, friends' dinner/lunch dates through FaceTime became a thing and every Instagram post got commented with an inside joke. Friends and fans started to notice the change in their relationship and soon their mentions were bombarded with speculating questions.

“Are you guys together?”

“When are the two of you getting married?”

“@thisisfuryWWE and @JayWhiteNZ get a fucking room already”

“I would if she was near me 🙄”

She was the one who took the second step. After a lot of talk with Candice, she finally realised her true feelings towards the kiwi. It wasn’t easy accepting them at first, she took longer to respond to his messages, the “good morning” texts were no more, and her answers were always short, until the fateful day where she completely stopped answering him.

→ I don’t know if I did something wrong, and I am so sorry if I did, but please talk to me.

She knew that ghosting him was wrong and that she needed to tell him the truth, even if her anxiety got the best of her.

The clock on her phone announced that it was 12:45pm, meaning it was almost 2 in the morning for him and that he probably had just gotten back from the monday tapings, tired and wanting to sleep. “Fuck it, he texted me. It’s now or never.”

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

He picked up on the third ring, his long, dyed black hair wet, sticking to his forehead, the droplets of water running down his chest.

“Hey! Sorry it took me a while to pick it up, I was just taking a shower. How are you?” He panted like he had just ran a marathon to pick up the phone. “I missed you.”

She had never seen him so vulnerable, the small tone of his voice shot a tinge of pain to her heart. “Can we talk? I need to talk to you.”

“Sure, just let me put some pants on.” Jay laughed.

He sat the phone down on the nightstand and she kept staring at the cream ceiling of his hotel room, thinking about everything and nothing at the same time.

“Is everything okay, I was worried about you.” Noises of shuffling fabric were noticeable in the background, paired with a string of curses after what she was pretty sure was him bumping his pinky on some furniture.

“Everything is fine. Is your toe still alive?”

“Yeah, yeah…”

She looked at him, really looked at him. The dark hair dryer, messy and no longer sticking to his forehead, probably the work of him aggressively running the towel over it. His fair skin pink after a hot shower, blue eyes shy, almost anxiety ridden with anticipation of what could happen next. She let out a modest smile, running the words she had thought about telling him countless times in her head.

“What is it, honey?”

“Jay, I- I need to tell you something. I don’t know how to say it but just let me finish first or I’ll die.”

He only nodded.

“I like you. Really, really like you. That’s why I’ve been off these past few days, I’ve been trying to understand my feelings and I ended up scaring myself because I’ve never felt this way for anyone.” she stopped for a few seconds, hands running over face and hair, taking a moment to breath. “Jay, I– fuck, I appreciate our friendship so, so much and I don’t want to ruin it, but I get it if this makes you uncomfortable and if you want to cut ties.”

Jay kept quiet, staring at her through the small screen, smile getting bigger and until it turned into full, hearty laughter.

“Jay, this is not funny. I’m not–“

“This is why you vanished? God, can’t you see I fucking love you too, you idiot?!”

Silence engulfed the pair again as they looked at each other, not believing what had finally happened. They exchanged smiles and lingering stares before continuing the conversation.

“I’m crazy about you, honey.”

“And how are we going to do this, Jay?”

“I am constantly going back home, you can come over when you have some free time. We will figure it out, baby.”

Three weeks of messages and video calls, three weeks of “I love yous” and “can’t wait to see you”, three of the longest weeks of their lives until they finally meet each other.

Jay opens instagram, her story bubble being the first one to show up. He clicks on it and is met with a picture of her in a red envelope dress and white converse, the same one he was wearing, and a caption that said “today is going to be a great day! ❤️🔪”.

🔥 reaction and a “see you in forty, love” reply sent, her phone vibrated in her purse just a few meters away from him. Little did he know she was waiting for him in the landing room, holding a small poster with “Mr. White” written and little switchblades drawn all over it.

She grew anxious as everyone but Jay left the plane, checking the time and if she was on the right gate constantly.

Five minutes passed, five minutes that felt like hours, and Jay finally came out, with sunglasses covering his eyes and his denim jacket in hand. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her, a smile growing on his face as she ran to him. He engulfed her in a tight hug, kissing her lips in small pecks that grew into one big slow kiss.

They touched foreheads after, smiling and laughing, not believing they were finally in each other’s arms.

“Hey, stranger.”

[lady-literature]

for us to collide (part 4)

anyway who actually expected me to end this thing in 4 chapters lol

rip me ig

Read on Ao3 | part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 (final) | deleted scene

After the not-so-impromptu interrogation courtesy of her friends (because there was no way they hadn’t planned that, it was too coordinated) Robin doesn’t stop by for two weeks.

Which is… fine. Marinette is plenty busy anyways. The extra time she has free now that she isn’t entertaining a bratty vigilante, goes to more productive uses of her time. Like watching bad horror movies with her friends and jeering at the horrible acting and special effects.

(Red Hood stops by in the middle of watching Grizzly Rage and proceeds to rant for twenty minutes about ‘shitty, unrealistic blood splatters’. Marinette has long since passed the point of being worried about it.)

So, yeah. She doesn’t see Robin.

But Damian, oddly enough, seeks her out.

It’s early, and there isn’t anyone else in the studio right now which means Marinette has her music blasting and she’s humming along as she hand paints silk for Clara’s dress. It’s loud and she’s in her zone, so it’s only by Tikki warning her that she realizes someone entered her sanctuary.

Her eyebrows raise when she sees who it is.

“Uh, bonjour Damian," she greets confusedly, reaching over to lower the volume on her speakers. "I hadn’t expected to see you here. Is there something you need?”

He stops before her workstation, only slightly bigger than the ones the rest of her staff use due to the sheer amount of open commissions she normally has. She has an actual office on this floor, but Chloé uses it more than she does. Marinette likes the open space and being around her designers more than she likes the privacy.

His eyes catch on the two bouquets of flowers she’s yet to take home, neither of which have even begun to wilt—and likely won’t. (She’ll have to take them home soon before people start asking questions.)

“I was called here by Father, but he’s currently indisposed. I’ve been told to wait.”

She waits a moment for him to continue, and when he doesn’t, she asks, “So you came to visit me?”

“Yours is the only tolerable presence to be found.” His lips purse, and he crosses his arms. “And that includes that imbecile Drake who is no doubt still in his office like the pitiful insomniac he is.”

Her tongue is already halfway around a joke about excuses—she didn’t befriend Felix for nothing, okay? She knows how people like Damian work—when she realizes what he just said.

“Wait. Tim’s been here all night?”

Damian snorts. “He certainly didn’t return to the manor.”

She’s out of her seat in an instant, frowning and muttering up a storm as she rummages through the storage cubes pushed up against the far wall. She has a blanket, pillow and plain cotton shirt in her hands before Damian registers that she even moved.

“I’m going to kill your brother,” she says simply. “Would you like to come with?”

She’s gotten closer to Tim since working in Wayne Tower. He’s a notorious recluse and rarely leaves his office when he’s in the building, but Marinette makes it a point to visit him during lunch and before she leaves for the night.

He isn’t one of her Waynes, but he is a Wayne and her Waynes love and care for him so there’s not much of a difference really. She does like to think they might be something close to friends at this point though. And if the way Tim comes down to visit whenever he ventures out of his office means something, she might even be right.

Another thing that should be noted, is that Marinette is very much a ‘ride or die’ kind of person when it comes to the people she cares about. She will ruthlessly bully her loved ones into taking better care of themselves on threat of death because she is the semi-hypocritical mom friend and damn proud of it.

Damian looks her up and down, eyes lingering on the items in her hands and the determined set to her jaw and says, “Of course.” Then he’s plucking her things from her hands, offering her his arm and saying, “Shall we?”

Marinette laughs as she loops her arm with his. “We shall.”

***

She spends ten minutes scolding Tim before wrangling him onto the couch in his office and wrapping him up in the blanket so tightly he’d need to be an escape artist to get out of it. He tries to struggle anyway, but Marinette has too much practice at this and he doesn’t stand a chance in hell.

Damian stands at her shoulder and smirks the entire time, eyes dancing with amusement as she forces the CEO of Wayne Enterprises to take a fucking nap. Then, she’s treated to the sound of his surprised laughter as she begins switching out all of Tim’s regular coffee for magic-decaf—not that Damian knows it’s magic.

(By the devilish smirk playing at his lips, she’s starting to think that maybe Damian really is just as sadistic as Duke and Jason say he is.)

***

Damian starts dropping by more often after that (read: starts dropping by at all). Not that Marinette minds. She quite likes his company, actually.

He normally stops by first thing in the morning when Marinette is the only one in the workshop, walking in like he owns the place. For the first couple days, he asks about Ladybug and the rest of Paris’ Court, claiming that he’s curious about them.

She answers them, but only as far as she’d answer them for any reporter and is careful not to give away any sensitive information not known to the public. He gets a bit frustrated at one point, complaining that she must know more, but she stays stubbornly silent about it and, sometimes, steers the conversation deftly to the Great Bat and his Flock instead.

He eventually stops asking about the Parisian superheroes and instead their morning conversations turn to a thousand random things. Complaints and anecdotes and a silly back and forth between the two.

Marinette’s never been much of a morning person but having Damian there to keep her company is… nice.

She almost finds herself looking forward to mornings now.

***

When her Waynes learn that she’s started a food kitchen and makes a habit of spending her weekend there, they immediately insist on joining her, despite her protests.

“You guys really don’t have to do this,” she says even though the three of them are already in their aprons and Cass is eyeing the boucher, Vivian, and her collection of knives with glittering interest.

Duke grins at her, “We know, M. But we want to.”

Jason finally turns back to her from where he’s been staring at the kitchen with something just shy of awe on his face. “You’re downright incredible, you know that?” he waves a hand out at the seating area, and then at the people in the kitchen assembling the healthiest and cost-efficient meals she and Felix could find after days spent researching. “I would’ve killed for something like this when I was on the streets.”

“It’s not just me who’s got this up and running-” she tries protesting but then Fiona, the woman Marinette actually put in charge of this place, is at her side and all but shoving the four of them into stations.

Marinette ends up by the pastries, like always, and she can see Jason making sandwiches. Duke's been roped into making eggs and bean casseroles and Cass, by some grace, actually ended up by Vivian and is having a blast cutting up all the meats as fast as she can.

They don’t stop until lunch, all four of them helping prepare meals for the upcoming week in bulk. After, they all go out for ice cream by the pier and Jason smears chocolate on her nose and Duke carries her around on his back when she complains about being tired.

Cass takes pictures of it all and later, Marinette gets them all printed out.

It ends up being a really good day.

***

The buzz from the charity gala and all the press regarding her and Damian’s non-existent relationship had calmed down weeks ago. There was still the odd article about Marinette being seen with her odd assortment of Waynes and the newspapers still called her ridiculous names when they got a picture, but it was about as close to normal as she gets.

The quiet lulled her into a false sense of security.

Ice Prince and Sweetheart Finally Seen on Date: Fairy Tale Romance or Publicity Stunt?

The ‘date’ in question was a coffee and lunch run for her designers and also Tim (because kwami knew he'd work through lunch if allowed).

Damian normally didn’t stay past Lilliane arriving in the morning (the poor dear was chronically late and always the last to arrive) but he hadn’t shown up until after she came that day and overcompensated by hours—which she hadn't minded. He kept to the fringes of her workspace and didn't distract her, instead focusing on his own thing. She wasn’t quite sure what he was up to, but she knew he was switching between his computer and sketchpad every so often.

(She's pretty sure he was hiding from Dick for some reason. He’s the only Wayne brother who doesn’t visit her at work, seeing as they have their bi-weekly gymnastic sessions; recently, with the addition of Mar’i, who still calls her ‘twin’ and whom Marinette still adores.)

And then lunch had rolled around, and it was Marinette’s turn to go out so she brought Damian with since he was still there.

They were out together for forty-five minutes. Tops.

“Why me?” she whines into the surface of her desk.

Damian, the asshole, just laughs at her and she can’t even be mad about it because he’s only just started laughing around her and not hiding behind so many of his walls. He laughs and Marinette knows it's precious so instead of shooting him the glower he deserves, she finds herself having to hide the smile slowly creeping on her face.

***

They’re splashed across the papers again less than a week later, only this time she has her Waynes there too.

Marinette's wearing her bright red sundress and she's somehow convinced Damian to wear a jacket with elaborate crowns and snowflakes embroidered up the sides. Because, as Chloé says: if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.

They see the camera this time and the photo splashed across the page the next day is of Marinette laughing with Jason’s arm slung across her shoulders as both he and Damian flip off the camera. Meanwhile, Duke and Cass stand just far enough in frame to capture their expressions of pain and amusement respectively.

(Marinette makes a mental note to order apology gift baskets for the PR department.)

There are a lot of headlines the next day about Marinette’s ‘harem of Waynes’ and how she’s a ‘horrible influence on such bright children’. She spends about ten minutes trying to decide whether she should be horrified or laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of it and eventually decides on both.

Adrien, the little shit, sees the headline and immediately prints it out to hang in her kitchen.

It reappears every time she tries to take it down.

***

Gotham does not smile upon daytime heroes.

Not to say that Gotham really smiles on anyone, but it’s especially vicious to those that think they’re owed anything. She’s heard the way Gothamites talk about Superman and The Flash—it’s not exactly what one would call adoring.

But Ladybug's been a daytime hero her entire career and it is not difficult to see that there's something distinctly different about the way daytime heroes and Gotham’s vigilantes operate.

Something more vicious, maybe; something more restrained.

Without the light of day and without the people’s eyes watching them at every moment, the Gotham Bats have become something else entirely.

Signal, their Daytime Protector, is especially strange.

A bat who's meta, straddling the line between day and night. The Day Patrol, trained by the night.

Sometimes, when she and Signal talk about heroing, there is such an odd type of disconnect that it throws her. Nothing horrible or major, but little things she’s sure she wouldn’t notice if she wasn’t so intimately familiar with it all herself.

They don’t always talk about heroing though. After two months, Ladybug is proud to say she seems to be worming her way past his outer shell nicely. He tried so hard to keep his distance from her, but Ladybug’s always liked a challenge, and it isn’t long before she has him relaxing around her. 

Well, for a definition of relax anyway. He's still a bat after all.

But then, it’s pretty easy to get past Signal’s barriers when she’s already had practice breaking through the more stubborn bats like Robin and, to an extent, Hood. Not that Signal, or any of the bats, know that.

Which, speaking of the bats, isn’t it a bit weird she’s only met three spread across two of her alter egos? As Ladybug, she’d expect to be hounded by a few of them but the only one she’s met is Signal. She can’t decide if it’s because he’s the only one that operates in the daylight, or if they just don’t want to spook her into running or something.

Either way, they’re going to start giving her a complex. She’s heard so much about the rest of the Batfamily, and not one of them even wants to meet her? Either her?

(Maybe Marinette should ask Robin and Hood what’s up with that? The way they talk about how nosy Red Robin is, she’s surprised he didn’t drop by months ago and- is it weird that she’s offended by vigilantes not prying into her private life?

…Probably.)

***

Marinette blinks, stopping dead in her tracks.

Damian's on her fainting couch, sketchpad in his lap as he waits for her.

“Why are you wearing a beanie?” she blurts out instead of greeting him like a normal person. "You never wear beanies."

Luckily, Damian scowls at her question rather than at her. It’s a subtle but very important difference.

“Sorry,” she apologizes anyway, putting her bag down. “I haven't had coffee yet.”

He hums, then nods to her desk where she finds a steaming to-go mug. Her face lights up and she quickly snatches it, breathing deeply the lovely aroma. “You’re a godsend.”

That brings a quirk to his lips, closer to a smirk than a smile, but progress nonetheless.

After a moment, where she sips at her overly sugary monstrosity—just the way she likes it, when had Damian even noticed that?—and he continues sketching she asks again. “Okay but, I actually am kinda curious. What’s up with the hat?”

He sighs heavily, closing his pad. “It’s… better than the alternative.”

Marinette snorts. “Alternative to what? A top hat?” But instead of snapping back like she expects, he just continues to frown. Immediately, her lips turn down into a concerned frown. “Is there something wrong?”

“Yes,” he grounds out and Marinette puts her coffee down. She’s just about to open her mouth and say something else when he reaches up and rips the beanie off his head.

For the second time in less than five minutes, she stops dead.

Marinette opens her mouth. Closes it. Blinks, but the scene doesn't change.

His hair is still blue.

Damian Wayne's hair is blue.

Damian Wayne’s hair is vibrantly electric blue.

Her hand shoots up to cover her mouth as she tries to stifle her giggles.

Damian’s scowl deepens. He moves to shove his ridiculous beanie back on his head but her hand snaps out before he can.

“No! No, I’m sorry I just-” she giggles again. “You looked so upset by it and you took me by surprise. I like it!”

He glares up at her, still sat on the fainting couch so it’s her who has the height advantage for once.

“Don’t patronize me.”

She rolls her eyes, the hand that wasn’t settled on his arm reaching up to touch the bright strands. It's slow enough that he can stop her, but he, surprisingly, makes no move to.

His hair is a lot softer than she expects it to be. But she supposes he didn’t use that gel stuff today, planning on keeping his hair under a hat the whole time.

“It looks good on you,” she says softly.

He snorts disbelievingly and she smacks his shoulder lightly. “It’s true! I swear you could look good in any color.” She clicks her tongue longingly. “I wish I had your skin tone. I’m too pale to wear pastels like I want.”

He wrinkles his nose at her. “Pastels?”

“Oh you hush,” she quips, finally pulling her hand from his hair. “Anyway, if you don’t like it, why’d you dye it blue in the first place?”

“I… lost a wager with Todd.”

She laughs, starting to move around and get ready for the day. She doesn’t have any meetings scheduled, which means she gets the whole day to create. She’s pretty excited about it.

“I should’ve guessed it was Jason’s doing.”

Damian shrugs, settling back into the cushions. He drapes himself across them in a way that’s effortlessly elegant and like he’s ready to be photographed for a magazine cover or something. Must all her friends be so pretty? It’s playing hell on her self-esteem.

“But blue is your favorite color, right? So there’s that at least.”

Damian hums. “Todd had threatened to dye it pink or some other equally garish color.”

“Hey!” she exclaims in mock outrage. “What’s wrong with pink? I’ve been wanting to dye my hair pink for ages.”

“Nothing. It’s just simply not a color I appreciate.” He makes a face. “Like orange.”

Marinette huffs, but there’s a smile on her lips. It's quiet for a moment, for long enough that she thinks the conversation's been dropped. But then-

“Why don’t you?”

“Huh?”

“Why haven’t you dyed your hair?” he repeats. “Your friends—Couffaine and… Kubdel? They both have colored hair.”

Marinette shrugs. “I dunno. Never got around to it I guess. I suppose I could do it now. Dye mine in solidarity,” she jokes. “Oh! We could match even! Wouldn’t that be fun?”

“I thought you wanted pink?”

“Well, yeah. But blue is nice too. Besides,” she smiles wryly over her shoulder, “you just said pink was ‘garish’.”

Damian frowns slightly, shaking his head, “On me, perhaps. But I think you’d look very fetching in pink.”

“Oh,” Marinette pauses, feeling her face grow warm at the sudden compliment. “Well- Uh, pink it is, then.”

***

(Damian watches the blush rise on her cheeks as she turns away to try and hide it. Yes, he can’t help but think, fetching in pink, indeed.)

***

Luka insists on being the one to dye her hair, citing that he’s the one who had dibs all these years, but Alix and Jason both all but demand to be there too.

Her bathroom is not big enough for all four of them to sit in.

Not a single one of them cares.

Cass and Duke ask for progress pics along with Uncle Jay, and all her Parisian friends cycle through standing at the bathroom door to see how it's going.

The constant stream of people looking at her makes her feel not unlike an animal at a zoo. (When she wryly tells this to Alix, all she gets is her friend cackling on the ground.)

But, after all the bleaching and conditioning and waiting, she stares into the mirror with soft pink hair the color of bubblegum and thinks, yeah, it was worth it.

She thinks it again when Damian walks in the next day and almost trips over his own feet.

(She’s also wearing her Robin themed sundress, complete with hood, matching boots and personal touches not found on the mass-produced version—but Marinette doesn’t know why that would be relevant.)

Her favorite reaction to her new hair color though is, by far, Mar’i’s.

Marinette doesn’t see the young Grayson until a week later when she’s invited to the monthly family dinner Alfred insists all the Waynes attend—which includes her now, apparently (she tries not to show how pleased she is by that).

She arrived with Damian, who was kind enough to pick Tim and her up from work, and Mar’i takes one look at Damian and her standing next to one another before she starts babbling excitedly about Lilo and Stitch and Angel. A character who is—apparently—Stitch’s girlfriend and the complimentary pink to his blue.

Marinette is momentarily surprised, but Mar’i’s enthusiasm is contagious and it isn’t long before the rest of the Waynes are teasingly calling them Angel and Stitch. Marinette thinks it’s all very funny and adorable.

Damian, on the other hand, most certainly does not and threatens everyone who calls him that ‘ridiculous nickname’ with graphic depictions of bodily harm.

‘Angel’, oddly enough, sticks for Marinette. She finds she kind of likes it.

***

Later, Damian asks her about nicknames.

Well, he calls them ‘asinine titles’ and doesn’t so much ask as demand she explain why she allows anyone to call her by them seeing as she has a ‘perfectly serviceable name,’ in his opinion.

Ignoring the fact that she’s heard Dick call him multiple nicknames he hadn’t protested to, she says, “Well, I guess it’s that everyone uses Marinette. A nickname is something… special. A little more personal, I guess. And, I dunno. My parents named me Marinette, but it’s nice to share something between other people. And it shows they care.”

Damian looks confused after she’s done, but also thoughtful. He doesn’t say anything to that and Marinette doesn’t really expect anything to come of it.

She's proven wrong when, a week later, Damian calls her Starling instead of Marinette.

(And the transition from Dupain-Cheng to Marinette had been enough to make her beam—this is just ridiculous.)

***

When Robin disappears a second time, Marinette doesn’t get the chance to notice his absence on her own. He’s only stopped showing up four days ago—which is longer than normal, but not unheard of—when she hears unfamiliar voices on her balcony.

Looking out, she finds three semi-familiar individuals clustered around the plate of treats she leaves out for Robin and Hood.

Nightwing and Red Robin are both stuffing their faces full of the fruit tarts she had made while Spoiler glares at them and seems to be cursing the fact that her mask covers her mouth the same way Hood always does when she makes those raspberry scones he likes.

The scene is… odd. For many reasons but most pressingly that their arrival has come out of nowhere.

“Well,” Nightwing explains when she asks, “We wanted to visit ages ago, but baby bird threatened to stab us all if we tried.”

“He’s very… particular about you,” Red Robin tacks on while Spoiler nods sagely like she hasn’t crafted some strange straw monstrosity just so she can drink tea while still wearing her mask. Red Robin has one too, but his for the aesthetic rather than out of necessity.

Marinette stares at the three of them. “That… does not explain why you are here now.”

“Robin can’t stop us now, obviously,” Red Robin says casually, like he hasn't just kicked her heart into high gear with a few words.

“What? Why?” she demands, trying very hard not to sound panicked. “Is he okay? Was he hurt?”

Red Robin blinks, going quiet in that way Hood and Robin do when they’re judging her just a bit. She hates this family.

“No, he’s… fine.”

“B’s just benched him for the time being,” Nightwing helpfully supplies, amusement flickering at the edges of his lips. “He’s a little too… conspicuous at the moment.”

Marinette’s shoulders relax even as her brows furrow. Conspicuous? What in the world is that supposed to mean?

“Does that mean he won’t be coming around for a while?” she asks before she can think better of it.

The three vigilantes in front of her share a look before Spoiler says, “Probably. But the gremlin’s never been one to sit still so who knows?” she smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners as she leans toward Marinette conspiratorially. “But don’t worry. We can keep you company in the meantime!”

“We’re much better company than the demon anyway. Certainly less insulting.”

“Oh, he’s not that bad. He’s an ass, for sure, but you can tell when he means it and when he’s just stumbling over himself.” Marinette smiles fondly, “For someone so dignified, he trips over his tongue quite often.”

Now the vigilantes are really staring at her. She’s starting to feel pretty uncomfortable about it all when Nightwing beams at her, jumping up from his seat to sweep her into a hug. It startles her, but she doesn’t push him away, instead laughing at the sudden affection.

“Oh you really are perfect!” he exclaims, setting her down and still grinning like an absolute lunatic.

She’s smiling, because Nightwing’s joy is infectious, but she's even more confused than before. And then, before she can ask what he means, Red Robin’s wrist computer lights up—and damn, isn’t that cool? Marinette wonders if Tikki could do something like that for the Ladybug suit—and the three are moving to swing back out into the night.

She waves them off and they all promise to visit again.

Marinette shakes her head before going back inside with the empty pastry plate and four empty mugs.

***

Damian knows of Marinette’s friends of course. It'd take more effort not to when she talks about them every chance she gets and tells him all the wild stories about their escapades and misadventures.

(They also all came up in the background check he ran on her when they first met.)

Most of her friends are exceedingly normal oddly enough. Well, they’re all mildly famous and the leaders of their various fields, but they’re just civilians.

The only exceptions being, Bourgeois, Agreste, and Graham de Vanily.

Bourgeois is a former hero like Marinette, only she doesn't seem to still be in contact with the Parisian Court. All the articles he could find spoke about how Queen Bee was deemed unfit for her mantle and later replaced by the new bee hero, Ambrosia. Agreste was caught up in the scandal of his father being Hawkmoth, but he was found innocent and ignorant of his father's crimes (something Damian made sure to confirm). He now works at and is being groomed to own the bakery Marinette's parents run, seeing as their daughter has little interest to do it herself.

And finally, Graham de Vanily, Agreste's cousin, has a history of causing trouble wherever he goes. Nothing villainous, and rarely even malicious, but there's something about him that makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Not everything is as it seems with the Graham de Vanily heir.

Besides those three outliers, Marinette's friends seem to be untouched by the vigilante life. Which means he thinks they must be utterly boring.

Only, when her friends start coming around to visit and drag her out for lunch or some other random outing, Damian keeps finding himself baffled by each of them.

They act strangely and with a dangerous air none of them should possess, except for Tsurugi. The questions they ask him are strange and the jokes they make have no sense. He's been warned about how he better treat Marinette so many times, he's started to lose count. (Which is ridiculous. He treats her just fine and would never intentionally harm her. What are they trying to insinuate?)

But, by far, his most memorable encounter is with Lahiffe. A veritable wolf in sheep's clothing.

Marinette is excitedly babbling about her newest idea for her summer collection, pressed up against him on the chaise and practically shoving her sketches in his face as she demands his critique and thoughts.

Her hands are waving every which way and, on more than one occasion, he has to quickly lean back so she doesn't hit him in the face.

He’s focusing on what she’s saying so much—because she has a habit of forgetting things if she doesn’t write them down and needs someone to remind her of the ideas she had at a later time—that he doesn’t even realize Lahiffe is there until he clears his throat.

Marinette jumps, almost elbowing him in the stomach. “Nino!” she shouts, springing up and flinging herself at the other man who catches her like this is something she does often.

“Heya, Nettie.”

“Wait- what are you doing here? You’re not-” she jolts back to look at Lahiffe’s amused expression. “Oh kwami, is it time already? Shit. I wasn’t paying attention. I’m so sorry! I have to give this one thing to Publishing but then I promise we can go, okay? Like, just five minutes!”

She's already moving before she finishes speaking, sweeping up papers and rearranging files and putting things away with all the swiftness and agility of a speedster. Damian watches her go about her routine, occasionally handing her something she’s dropped or pointing out a thing she’s missed, weaving around her chaos with practiced ease.

Then she’s sweeping out of the office with a distracted “be right back!” and he’s alone with Lahiffe.

The second Marinette leaves, the man’s attention swings onto him with a strange weight. For a long moment, he doesn’t say anything and Damian’s hackles raise with every passing second.

He doesn’t snap at him though, because he’s one of Marinette’s friends. Insulting him would only serve to make her upset and that’s something Damian's been trying to avoid causing as of late.

“Man,” Lahiffe says at last. “Alix wasn’t kidding about the whole besotted thing, huh?”

Damian rears back, straightening up to his full height. “I beg your pardon?”

Lahiffe laughs and waves his hand about like that’s supposed to mean something. “Ah, no need to be embarrassed about it, dude. You’re far from the first of us to fall for her charms.”

“What.”

“Yeah, we've all been there. I think over half of the Paris crew crushed on her at some point, including myself. None of us are into her like that anymore, so as long as you treat her right, you got nothing to worry about."

“I’m not- I'm not interested in Marinette,” Damian tries to protest but Lahiffe just calmly steamrolls over him.

“Nah. Everyone loves Nettie. It’s universal law or something. First, there was me and Adrien, then Luka—who she actually liked back for a while there but are now practically siblings. Chloé liked her in collége, but she hadn’t really come to terms with that at the time. Alix might’ve, but she’s pretty grey-ace and fluctuates on the romance points, so who knows.

“Oh! And Nath. He also snagged a date with her, but he was an Akuma at the time so I’m not technically sure that it counts. And he’s with Marc now anyway. Thinking of adopting a kid, last I heard. Anyway- my point was: everyone loves Nettie. And don’t bother trying to fight it, because it only makes her pull of gravity worse.”

Lahiffe then claps him on the shoulder like their talk amiable and not the most confusing speech Damian’s ever heard.

And then he doesn’t even get to say anything to that because Marinette is sprinting back through the door, grabbing her jacket and bag, telling him goodbye, and dragging Lahiffe out to who knows where.

Damian stands there longer than he cares to admit trying to make the world make sense again.

***

A week and a half after she learned Robin was benched, Damian catches her staring off into space as she doodles tiny robins in the margins of her sketchbook.

He gives her an odd look when she scrambles to hide them, blushing hotly and babbling about how she’s “Just fine! Nothing to worry about! I’m just, maybe, perhaps, a little worried for a friend even though I shouldn’t be, because his family says he’s just fine and-”

He looks contemplative when he leaves that day, but he didn’t ask about her outburst, so she extends the same courtesy to him.

***

That night, Robin returns.

“What,” she says around the laughter threatening to bubble out of her throat, “are you wearing?”

Robin scowls from behind the full cowl he has on that she’s pretty sure belongs to Red Robin. It makes him look a whole ten years older and she can’t get over how ridiculous he looks. If he keeps doing stupid things with his face while wearing that monstrosity, she is definitely going to laugh at him.

“What are you wearing?” he shoots back petulantly.

She blinks in confusion, then realizes she’s still wearing her Red Hood inspired jacket right now. Tan colored fake leather with fuzzy, red inner lining, done with all the same pockets, buttons, and zippers Red Hood has on his own jacket. It looks almost exactly like the jacket she fixed for him all that time ago, except she's also added a soft, crimson hood and his own personal bat symbol stitched across her shoulder blades.

As far as things she's designed goes, this is one of her simpler ones. It's nothing like the elaborate creations she makes for the Ambrosia or Ryuko themed items.

But Red Hood was a simple kind of person, and she likes that it’s reflected in her work.

Robin doesn't seem to agree if the poorly concealed disdain on his face means anything.

“What?” she asks teasingly, “You jealous?”

He scoffs and looks off to the side. “Of course not. I simply do not understand why you’d want anything to do with that simpleton. Especially not when I know you have clothing articles referencing far superior individuals.”

She snorts good-naturedly, "What 'individuals'? You mean you?"

The way he raises his nose self importantly is answer enough, and she can't stop herself from rolling his eyes. "Well, it's certainly a start. But I'm not the only one."

"Oh, yeah? And who else is marvelous enough to stand on the same level as you?"

"Multimouse."

Her mouth goes dry, and she can tell Robin is pointedly not looking at her.

“Come inside,” she blurts in lieu of all the things she really wants to say—which are mostly just embarrassing variations of I missed you. “I can, uh, make us tea. If you want.”

It's the first time she’s ever invited him inside and she can see the small bit of shock on his face—well, what she can see of it anyway—before he schools it.

“Yes,” he says in a tone of voice that implies it was his idea in the first place. “That sounds… good.”

She steps aside, allowing him to pass her by into the flat. Only instead of just walking past her, he stops halfway through the doorway and stares at her. She’s about to ask what’s wrong when he reaches out with his hand to gently grab a lock of her hair.

“Pink suits you, by the way.”

She quirks her lips, “Yeah? You don’t think it’s… too much?”

The corners of his mouth turn down, “Absolutely not. You look…” he trails off, mouth flattening into a line and dropping his hand.

She blinks at the odd behavior. “Nice?” she offers tentatively.

He nods, but it’s a little jerky and strange. But before she can ask about it, he’s already turning to enter her flat like he owns the place, remarking about her choices of tea and if she’s finally acquired an ‘adequate teapot’.

She shakes off the moment and goes in to follow him before he wrecks her kitchen in his careless search for tea supplies.

***

MinnieMouse: COME GET YALL JUICE

and by juice i mean me

I still do not have an american license

JaneAustenStanAccount: what do we get out of it?

MinnieMouse: ???

the pleasure of my company??

also youre literally the one that invited me to watch megamind

JaneAustenStanAccount: and??

daisyduke: shut up jay

we all know youre soft for M stop tryin to play tough

MinnieMouse: this is why duke is my favorite

he’s a living callout post

swanlake: :(

MinnieMouse: second favorite

im so sorry cass ily

swanlake: :)

daisyduke: i aint even mad

JaneAustenStanAccount: I AM

guys wtf

MinnieMouse: you brought this on yourself

maybe you should be nicer to me

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

daisyduke: ‘get fucked jason’ -marinette 2k20

btw im omw for you now

MinnieMouse: thnx ur the best

also im bringing scones as movie snack

daisyduke: noice

swanlake: !!!

JaneAustenStanAccount: FUCK YEAH!!!

MinnieMouse: you dont get any Jay

JaneAustenStanAccount: >:(

i hate it here

***

Marinette doesn’t know a lot about Robin’s past, which she assumes is by design. Secret identities don’t lead well to handing out details and concrete information about one’s personal life.

But, she thinks, one would have to be blind, deaf, and dumb to not see that whatever facsimile of a childhood Robin had was about eight different levels of fucked up.

It’s in the vague allusions to ‘training’ and the scorn filled way he says the word ‘mother’. It’s in the not-quite-confusion—because whatever family he has is better now, at least—of Marinette telling him about her own parents. About the happy memories she’s shared with them, of learning to bake bread and croissants and macaroons under the loving guidance of her father and practicing delicate designs and frosting techniques with her mother.

So, yeah. She knows he’s kind of messed up and definitely checks off the childhood trauma box that’s apparently one of the requirements for being her friend.

So when Robin suddenly decides to go against everything she’s learned about him up until this point and actually share something about himself—and when that thing he shares just so happens to be a story from his childhood—well… Marinette wouldn’t say she’s prepared, but she’s not- prepared.

He’s in her kitchen, because Marinette has learned her lesson about bleeding vigilantes on her couch, and she’s pretty sure he could’ve gone back to the Cave for this, but he came here for whatever reason. (Was closer, he said. Marinette doesn’t know if she believes him.)

She’s cleaning the knife wound on his arm, and she has his cape laid out across her island. There’s a hole in it she plans on sewing back up after she finishes sewing the hole in her reckless vigilante back up.

“You need to be more careful,” she scolds. “You’re lucky this didn’t nick something important.”

“It's hardly the worst wound I’ve ever acquired,” he tells her in a tone of voice that he probably thinks is reasonable. “At seven years old I had to dig a bullet out of my side in the middle of a Himilayan snowstorm while still making it back to base with time to spare after having successfully assassinated a Russian ambassador.”

Marinette pauses where she’s smoothing the gauze onto his bicep. Her eyes flick up to his, and she sees the exact moment he seems to realize what he just told her. He’s gone utterly still beneath her hands, with terror or worry or the effort it takes not to bolt out the window immediately, she doesn’t know.

“That’s horrifying,” she tells him as she finishes securing the obnoxiously bright bandage, “Never tell me that story again.”

She then drops a kiss onto his bicep, subtly imbuing it with enough luck that it will keep off any infection—the wound was filthy when he came in, seriously, was he in a sewer?—and pats his cheek warmly before moving to clean up all her supplies.

She feels his eyes on her the rest of the night, but every time she turns to him, she can’t tell what he’s thinking. All she knows is that he seems… softer, in a way.

***

Three days after Marinette’s unexpected look into Robin’s past, she finds a box on her desk. It’s a jewelry box, and the only reason she doesn’t immediately freak out is the fact that it lacks any of the miracle box markings.

Still, she opens it hesitantly, and inside, she finds a necklace. A completely normal, non-magical necklace that’s simple and pretty and very much shaped like a tiny toy mouse.

There is no note.

***

(Lahiffe was right.

The Earth spins around the sun. The sky is blue.

Everyone loves Marinette.)

***

The necklace is obviously supposed to be a reference to her Multimouse days, but that doesn’t exactly narrow down who could have left it for her.

Or well, it does, but all the people it narrows down to don’t make any sense.

Multimouse is a badly kept secret, but it’s still a secret. Most people outside Paris don’t know about her and the people in Paris didn’t exactly recognize her off the street either.

Her Court knows, obviously, and so do the Waynes and the bats. But her Court wouldn’t leave her mouse themed gifts, they tend toward ladybugs or their own animal motif as a gift (the amount of cat and bee themed items she owns is ludicrous).

Which leaves the Waynes and the bats.

But her Waynes wouldn’t leave the gift on her desk, and they certainly wouldn’t forget to put a note, so Duke, Jason, and Cass are out.

She must stand there thinking about it too long, because then Jeremy's walking in, just as bright and early as ever.

He sees her holding the box and his face turns a strange mix of curious and outraged. “Is it your birthday? I swear, Boss if you didn't tell us it was your birthday-”

“No, Jeremy,” she says, amused despite her confusion. “That’s not for a while yet. I found this when I walked in,” she shakes the box slightly for emphasis, “but there wasn’t a note.”

“Oh.” A smile slowly spreads across Jeremy’s face. “Oh?” he purrs, waggling his eyebrows at her. “Does the boss have a secret admirer?”

Marinette blinks and- what?

“What? No. I can’t- That doesn’t-” she splutters but Jeremy just laughs and walks over to his station to start setting up for the day, leaving Marinette to her breakdown.

Because this can’t have been left by a secret admirer. That’s just crazy.

There are exactly two people who could’ve left this for her and neither of them would be an admirer of any kind. And she wouldn’t want them to be anyway because that would be stupid and ridiculous and weird.

She doesn’t like Robin or Damian like that…

Right?

***

(It’s impossible not to love her, he realizes, mostly by accident.

She loves, wholeheartedly and unafraid and so much more than Damian had ever thought one person could. She loves with a ferocity and passion no person deserves or can match.

And Damian, foolishly, loves and wishes to be loved by her anyway.)

***

There are roses on her desk the next day, potted and still healthy.

The day after that, there’s a box of expensive chocolates. Like, the kind only Adrien, Felix, and Chloé buy without a second thought. The gossip has spread far enough that all of her designers know about the gifts and probably-admirer.

On the fourth day, there is a box full of high-quality pencils and a new sketchbook, one with nice thick drafting paper, but small enough to fit in her favored bag. Her name is embossed across the front, along with her personal motif of delicate apple blossoms.

On the fifth day, she shows up to find there is only a drawing, which should point to it being Damian, but drawing-her is holding a robin in her cupped palms which cannot be a coincidence. Drawing-her also looks serene and beautiful with her mouth curved slightly and her eyes gentle and soft and Marinette is as touched by the image as she is frustrated by it.

There are hair sticks on the sixth, and delicate pins shaped like flowers on the seventh. Another stunning drawing of her on the eighth, a bottle of wine older than Master Fu on the ninth, the softest cashmere blanket on the tenth, a basket of sweet floral lotions, a glass statue of a bird in flight—she gets so many gifts, Marinette has to stop keeping count.

It’s somewhere around day six that her designers must’ve ratted on her to either Felix or Chloé because it’s not long after that, that all of her friends learn about the gifts and start being terrifically unhelpful about the whole situation.

They each try to give her advice, which would be sweet if it wasn’t all equally terrible and conflicting.

They’re also placing bets on who they think her admirer is, Damian or Robin. They’re trying to be discreet about it—which means they’re failing miserably.

Marinette, admittedly, never expected any different from them.

***

Marinette begins watching Damian in the mornings with a newfound interest.

The gifts are always there before she arrives, which means they're also there before Damian arrives, so she’s in a prime position to catch his reaction.

Or, she would be, if he ever reacted. He barely glances at them and never says anything unless the gift is particularly obnoxious, like the giant stuffed mouse she found sitting in her chair last week. (It was almost as big as she was. Adrien, Nino, and Alix had ended up on the floor from laughing so hard when they’d seen it.)

Damian almost never comments on the gift she received that day, but whenever she uses or wears something that her mysterious admirer had gotten for her, he makes sure to compliment her. Which would be  very suspicious except that Robin does the same thing.

It’s just- they’re both so frustratingly silent about it all! Marinette is this close to just grabbing one or both of them by the shoulders and just shaking until they tell the truth.

It’s driving her insane! Before the necklace appeared on her desk, she didn’t even know that she liked Robin and Damian.

And now she’s overanalyzing their nonreactions. She hates it.

It feels too much like she’s back in collège, trying to sort out her feelings for Adrien and Chat. (Who ended up being the same person—which was just very inconsiderate of him, really. The least he could do is let her angst have meaning dammit!)

And- ugh. What if she doesn't even like either of them? What if her mind is just making her think she does because the idea of them liking her was presented? What then? Or what about the fact that the two boys are also ridiculously similar when she thinks about it. What if she only likes one and is just projecting her feelings onto the other because her mind associates the two?

Oh, she doesn’t like that thought. That thought makes her feel upset and like she wants to cry into a tub of ice cream.

Nino happily indulges her and doesn't even complain when she eats her way through his stash of mint chip as she dramatically complains about stupidly confusing boys.

Honestly, she may as well be back in lycée.

***

(What Marinette does not realize in the midst of all her careful analysis of his reactions, is that it’s not the gifts he’s focused on.

When she wears the necklace and hair sticks, she misses the way his eyes linger on the slope of her neck. As she cares for her roses, she doesn’t notice the way he follows the easy nimbleness of her fingers. She uses her sketchbook and eats the expensive chocolates and doesn’t pay attention to the way he steals glances at her lips. She doesn't see the way his hands twitch when she ventures just near enough to touch.

(She exists next to him, in any form or light, and he is captivated by her very presence.)

Marinette looks, but it is in all the wrong places.)

***

Strangely enough, it’s Signal who helps her with her internal crisis—completely unintentionally and in a very roundabout way—but he helps all the same.

He’s taken an… interest, she supposes, in her magic. One that is entirely his own and has very little to do with that Bat from what she can tell.

His abilities and hers stem from different origins, but she would be lying if she said his weren’t oddly complementary to her own. His precognition abilities stemming from his photokinesis has been useful on more than one occasion regarding the experimental spell matrices she, Tikki, and Nooroo have been testing out.

The magic is normally invisible to people without a Miraculous, but Signal seems to have little trouble seeing what she’s doing, even if he can’t interact with it the way she can.

(There is also the fact that she seems… more when he is around. Days that he spends watching her do her work go by faster and smoother than when he is away. Her magic is easier, and her mind spins with ideas and creations faster.

It’s an odd phenomenon and Ladybug is looking into it.)

There has been more than one occasion where Signal had warned her of the matrix’s imminent collapse with enough time for her to prepare herself for its blowback.

The version she’s working on today is their fifth iteration. It’s supposed to pull the miasma out of the building, filter it through her and Tikki’s own magical energy, before flowing back into the brickwork. Marinette had thought of the idea while talking with Nooroo.

If she can get it to work, it will shift the misfortune into good luck and order and release it back into the environment. Then she’ll only need to cleanse strategic portions of the city in a lattice network, and the creative and destructive energies will mix from there, balancing themselves without much input from her at all.

Of course, that’s only if she can actually get it to work. It’s been almost a month and this is the fifth version and it’s already collapsed on her three times in the last hour. Signal must see the frustration on her face and has taken to trying to distract her with small talk.

She’s very thankful for it, actually. If he wasn’t doing that, she would probably start screaming right here and now, on this random rooftop in the residential district. Which would just be very startling and embarrassing for everyone involved, so. You know. Glad she doesn’t have to do that.

Eventually, she asks him, apropos of nothing, “You’re a detective right?”

He pauses, and blinks at her, likely trying to follow the train of thought that led her to that question. She assumes he did not find it because when he speaks, he still sounds confused.

“Yes? I guess that’s technically what I am.”

“So you’re good at figuring out who’s behind a crime?”

Signal only looks more confused. “Yeah? But Ladybug, what-”

“Great, so. Hypothetically, if you had two suspects for a—well it’s not a crime. A… thing? Situation. How would you figure out which one of them is actually behind the… situation?”

Signal’s lips quirk, just a bit despite his confusion. “I think I’m gonna need a little more to go on than just ‘a situation,’ LB.”

Ladybug purses her lips and stares down at the light weaving intricate patterns in the space between her palms. Slowly, carefully, she tells him, “There are items being left where a person can find them. But the identity of the person leaving them and their intentions are unknown.”

“Are the items dangerous?” he asks worriedly.

Ladybug shakes her head. “No. They're more like gifts.”

“Are the gifts unwanted or creepy? Unsettling? Threatening?”

Another head shake. “Just confusing and… thoughtful.”

“Someone is leaving you thoughtful gifts and you're worried about that… why?” Signal asks, slowly and disbelievingly. 

“It’s because I- wait! I’m not the person!” she panics, causing the magic to spark dangerously in her hands but she barely notices. “The person doesn’t even exist. It was a hypothetical question!”

Signal stares at her. She can’t see his eyes or the top half of his face, but she just knows he’s raising his eyebrow judgingly at her.

“Stop that!” she snaps. “Stop being perceptive! I have enough perceptive people in my life so knock it off!”

Signal laughs like the horrible person he is. “But don’t you need me to be perceptive? That’s like, a requirement to be a detective.”

“Stop it,” she says again, mulishly and very childish.

And isn’t that an odd thought to have? Ladybug being childish.

How novel. Ladybug has never once been childish. She can’t afford to be, because when she is behind the mask, she is all the most important parts of herself. She is the Grand Guardian, is the one who must be in control at all times because she has an entire team to keep safe and alive.

Behind the mask, she’s all of her greatest responsibilities.

But here, in Gotham and with Signal, she is none of those things to him. She is simply another hero, that is his age and very much like him in ways so few are. Ladybug, in the moments she spends with Signal, is probably the closest she has ever been to carefree while in the mask.

It’s as comforting a thought as it is terrifying.

Signal raises his hands in surrender, but his lips are still quirked in amusement. 

Ladybug regrets starting this conversation.

She regrets it even more when, five minutes later, Signal manages to pull the rest of the story from her… along with a name.

She realizes her mistake a second too late to stop herself, and then all she can do is watch.

She watches, with ever-growing horror, as Signal slowly puts the pieces together. She watches, as her whole secret identity starts unraveling around her for the first time ever. She watches, stricken, as Signal opens his mouth to speak.

And then she grabs both sides of his head and Orders him to sleep.

***

The second Marinette bespells him, she regrets it.

She was panicking, okay? And Marinette panicking is very different from Ladybug panicking and truly, she creates messes just by existing.

Nooroo flies out of his hiding place to make distressed noises at the now unconscious Signal with her, which is… actually kinda soothing, if not exactly helpful.

At least she knows she’s not the only one upset right now.

“Oh no, oh no, oh no!” Nooroo frets, flitting around her head with agitated wings. Hers aren’t much better, if she’s being honest. “What are we going to do, Guardian? He knows who you are! This is bad.”

Marinette worries her thumb between her teeth, shifting her weight from foot to foot. With a thought, she's back in her civvies and Tikki is perched on her shoulder, blinking at the scene she’s suddenly a part of.

“Well,” Tikki says, sounding far too calm for the situation. “This isn’t ideal.”

The laugh that escapes Marinette is on the edge of hysterical. “You think?”

“It’s not ideal,” Tikki repeats firmly, “But neither is it a disaster.”

Nooroo lands on her other shoulder as she kneels down beside Signal to rearrange his limbs to not be so uncomfortable. “But he's unpredictable!” he argues, curling into the side of her neck like she will hide him from the world. “We don’t know what he’ll do with this information!”

Tikki hums thoughtfully. “Then we will have to ask. There are far worse people we could have been revealed to. We're lucky it was a friend rather than foe.”

“You think so?” Marinette asks softly, voice barely louder than a whisper.

She knows the Bat’s flock are good people. Many of them are her friends, or people she hopes to call friends soon.

But she doesn't know if these people Marinette calls friends could be Ladybug’s allies.

The bats hoard secrets like black holes, and perhaps they would keep hers just as well, but they could just as easily use it against her. Batman barely tolerates her presence, she can tell by the way Signal talks sometimes, and it is no small stretch of the imagination that he would use this to try and kick her out of Gotham.

Marinette cannot, as a Guardian, leave Gotham.

But more importantly, she doesn’t want to leave Gotham. It’s… her home now. Her friends are here. Her family is here. Robin and Hood and the other bats are here. Damian and all her Waynes are here.

Leaving Gotham would not only make her sick and jittery at the imbalance, but it would break her heart.

If, when Signal tells Batman, he reacts poorly, there is so much that Marinette is set up to lose. And that terrifies her.

Some of that thought process must show on her face—or perhaps Nooroo has just picked up on the turmoil in her chest—because the two Kwami are pressed on either side of her face, nuzzling and hugging as much of her as they can reach.

“We’ll make it through this, Marinette,” Tikki says firmly, no room for argument. “Don’t worry so much. Both of you. Everything will turn out just fine, you’ll see.”

***

@bluesimani @how-to-fuction-properly @chocolatecatstheron @mystery-5-5 @nickristus-dreamer @mochegato @thenillabean @animegirlweeb @novaloptr @darkdaysandfakesmiles @optimistically-pessimistic0524 @clumsy-owl-4178 @g-arya @undecisioned @smolplantmum @blackmagicforever @i-wanna-be-a-ninja @wannajointhecrabcult @paintedhope7 @redscarlet95 @roselynfey @ira-sairain @lozzybowe @tumbling-down-hills-and-stuff @2confused-2doanything @pepelachanel @too0bsessedformyowngood @miraculouspenta @itsmeevie01 @corabeth11 @jalaluvsu

[stevenbasic]

The Tale of Queen Angie, p3

*BEEEP* Throughout the whole drive that Monday morning, AJ felt like he was in a heavy fog. He had zoned out at a red light, and the car horn from behind him jerked him back to reality. Jeez… he thought to himself, no sleep, no coffee yet, I’m a zombie. He waved, apologetically into the rear view of his pickup, and took off again down the road.

But it wasn’t just that. He didn’t just need his coffee. Though in a daze, a depressed funk, AJ’s thoughts were nonetheless racing as he pulled into the parking lot. Why had Angie insisted they take separate cars? She said it was “to maintain appearances”, whatever that meant. But, he couldn’t help but frown. It would have been so nice to come to work together. It was both of their first days, after all - strangely at the same place. Or, at least, at the same location. It would have been nice to be with her, even if only for the fifteen minute ride. They could have talked...

Taking this new job, basically as an entry level schlub for Collective Construction (“Building the New World - Together!”) was a major ego blow. They were the same company - totally female owned and operated, from what he’s heard, though they obviously used guys for the grunt work  - that had snatched up the contract for the stadium job, and got the bid on a bunch of other projects he’d kinda counted on getting around the city. At first he had taken it personally, but it seemed like the same thing had happened to a bunch of other construction companies - so maybe he shouldn’t feel so bad. They seemed so well-funded and well-connected, and as upsetting as losing business was, they were basically impossible to compete against. Eventually, when his work dried up and he had to close up shop, dissolving the company he’d started himself, built from nothing, Collective purchased his equipment and hired him and a few of his guys. Though he needed the work, it was nonetheless humiliating and emasculating. It was hard not to feel...absorbed.

So, the first place they were putting him was on a demo team. Apparently there was a big remodel happening in the office building where Angie had scored her new gig, working in the accounting office of some sort of medical practice. It kinda sorta seemed like a weird move for her; her career, in contrast to his, had been on fire as she’d been managing a few branches of the bank she was with. But, whatever. She’s a smart girl, she seems to know what she’s doing, sees the potential for growth here, I guess.

As he pulled in where the other guys were parkedi, nto a spot far from the building, AJ took a look around. Though some teams were here already - he saw a chick in a hard hat pointing people around - his shift wasn’t set to start for another fifteen minutes. Damned if I’m giving them any free work, he thought, and sat back in his truck to think. Maybe Ang and I can grab lunch together? Being around Angie always made him feel better, even if she had been a bit distant lately. The part of his brain that tried to put a positive spin on things was saying that her distance was just the result of her new position and the stress of starting a new job. Maybe she was just distracted, or nervous…although her outfit and demeanor this morning portrayed nothing but confidence. Just the memory of her pulling on that short dress with the lemons on it, having him take pictures, had his hand drifting between his legs as he sat there in the truck. The other part of his brain, a much louder part these days, began calling attention to all the recent moments in their relationship that made him feel small, weak, and desperate. Their relationship had certainly taken a turn over this last months. It had been...he couldn’t even remember...since they had last had real sex, months since she last offered her mouth. Weeks since her last handjob, and that was through his pants in the changing room at Harold’s Department store when she was trying on new work clothes; he still shuddered at the embarrassment of having to walk around the Galleria with the stain on his pants. No, come to think of it, he couldn’t even remember the last time he had seen her naked, despite spending all his time at her place...with her...at her beck and call. No. More and more their time spent together was acts of pitiful and pious worship on his part. She’d been really playing up this domme thing recently, and he was embarrassed to admit just how easily he’d found himself getting more and more “sub”. Because, despite her distance, she seemed determined to keep his balls drained. Hours and sometimes whole weekend days were spent worshiping at the Altar of Angie, with her wearing something skimpy (or even just her work attire, he thought)…belittling him... as he jerked off to the swell of her big, white tits over and over again. He thought back to this morning, feeling an overwhelming mixture of arousal and shame.

“Go ahead” She had suggested, proudly putting herself together for her first day of work, “Grab that lotion and get started. You can watch me get ready for my new job as you stroke.” She’d smiled to herself, he remembered, as she watched thru the mirror and he wordlessly reached over for a couple pumps of lotion. She had barely looked at him or acknowledged him after that; she just continued putting on her makeup. He was pulled out of his thoughts - and pulled his hand away from between his legs - by two women, giggling to one another, walking past his truck towards the office. Holy shit, he thought, the ass on that Indian chick is ridiculous. And the figure on her friend is nothing to sneeze at, either. Even though they were both in, like, medical scrubs, their outfits and just the way they walked seemed designed to flaunt rather than conceal. Man, Angie is going to fit right in here, he thought, thinking wistfully back on how her hips looked this morning. Glancing at his phone, he realized he had been sitting in his truck for almost 10 minutes. He sighed to himself and had just turned off the engine to head over for his assignment when he saw- hooolllllly jeez whooo is that?!? Is that Angie’s friend Melissa!??

He’d known Angie had heard about this place, this job opportunity through one of her groups of friends, the girls she never really let him meet. Melissa was some sort of manager here, a job - by Angie’s accounts - for which she really wasn’t qualified but had scored nonetheless. Again he’d never met this Melissa but had seen her in some IG post along the way...the tits grabbed his notice. When he had asked about her, though, Angie seemed to bristle, so he’d let it go.

But good god look at her! AJ thought, as his right hand found his crotch again, leering through his windshield as he watched Melissa hook up with the pair in scrubs and start giggling along with them, headed to the front door. So tall, she totally dwarfed them, dressed sharply for a day at work. She must be six and a half feet in those heels, he figured, as he absentmindedly started rubbing himself again, marveling at a figure that he’d only seen in...well...he’d never seen a body like that.

In moments the three were gone, though, having entered the glass doors that led into the front atrium. He sighed again, and closed his eyes. He was going to have to steel himself for a tough day, physically and emotionally. He hadn’t worked for someone else, taken someone else’s orders (well, except for Angie’s, of course…) in years. This was going to be hard, but he had to suck it up. With one final exhale, AJ opened his eyes, put on his hardhat, and went to work....

===================================

Thanks to Friend of the Basic AgeoftheGiantess for his help on this one!

Extra content, newer posts at my Patreon

[levis-hazelnut]

Summary: when you and your best friend, Hanji, were younger, you had made up stories about your dream guys - what they would look like and how you would meet. What happens when the one you had made up appears to be real?

Warning(s): ig there’s suggestions of sex, but only if you squint.

Taglist (closed!): @castellandiangelo @fandom-addict19​ @20coldhearts​

Status: completed!

part 5 > part 6 > part 7

series masterlist

(B/N) = brother’s name

"What's up with her? Why is she so bubbly and giddy?" Levi murmured to the female that stood beside him and gently gripped his hand as they both leaned against the wall outside Petra's lecture hall. "It's her birthday tomorrow. Did she not mention it?" Petra replied, looking up at her boyfriend. "Yeah, she did. But I don't get why she looks so happy as if she's getting married or something." "Levi, Petra!" I beamed and walked up to them with a grin on my face. I glanced down at their fingers that intertwined with each other before flickering my eyes up at their faces, not paying attention to it. "How are you two?"

"Good," was Levi's curt reply. "We're fine. What about you?" was Petra's sweeter reply. "I'm great. I was just heading to the cafe because I'm craving some coffee. So, I'll see you two later." "Oh, okay. Bye,” the female smiled at me before I walked away. "Wait, (Y/N)," Levi said just as I took two steps.

I turned around to see him peck Petra's lips and say a few words to her before she strolled into her lecture hall, and we made our way outside. The smile remained on my lips, however, it was not fake. You see, those two have been dating for two months now so any kind of affection they express doesn't affect my mood too much. Yes, I feel jealousy but it doesn't make me too upset like it did at the start. I mean, I kind of still wish for them to break up, but it's whatever. I don't want to be a bitch and mess up their relationship just because I like him. They're happy together and I don't want to ruin that, especially because seeing them happy actually makes me happy "(Y/N)!" Levi and I stopped in our tracks, looking behind to see Jean. I grinned at him and he returned it before the three of us continued our journey to the cafe which was a few minutes away. "Happy birthday, baby girl." "First of all, do not call me that. Second of all, why are you saying it today if my birthday is tomorrow?" "Because I might not see you tomorrow." "What do you mean?" I inquired before a frown made its way onto my face. "You better not go and disappear for a month again, otherwise my sole purpose in finding you will be to slap your ass. I swear--" "Hey, hey, hey, I never said anything about going anywhere," he chuckled softly. "Although, I wouldn't mind if you slap--" "Shut up. So, why won't you see me?" "I don't know. I thought you wouldn't come in since it's your birthday, and I'm guessing you would do something with your family or something." "Oh, I see. But, I will be coming in, even though we have lectures all day tomorrow, and I honestly don't know what I'm doing yet." "I can plan a little party for just both of us," he smirked, so I playfully slapped his arm. "Hm. Looks like you've also got many fans, darlin'," Levi muttered to me so I rolled my eyes. "What, are you denying it?" "Do I ever have a swarm of boys surrounding me if I'm just standing in the corridor, doing nothing? Or have males years older hit on me?" "No, but you do have quite a bit of fans that you may or may not know about." "What are you saying? Has someone said something to you?" "Who was the heartthrob before I appeared?" My eyes widened when I realised what he was saying. The heartthrob in our university likes me? Let me tell you a bit about him. First of all, his name is Lucius, sexy-ass name, hands down (no, I do not want to name my son Lucius, in hopes that he'll turn out to look like him). His skin is so smooth, spotless and is a tan hue (no, I do not want to caress his perfectly, beautiful face). He has the most beautiful green eyes I have ever seen; they're green with specks of brown around his iris (no, I have not just stared into his eyes in the middle of a conversation). He has a straight-edged nose that looks too fun to boop (no, I have never dreamt about doing that). He has the perfect, soft, plump lips that just urge females to kiss him (no, I am not one of those females). He has an angular jaw that could possibly cut me if I do so much as poke it (no, I have never tried touching it to see if my prediction is true). Now, let me go to his hair. Ah, his hair. It's a light brown which looks so soft and fun to play with (no, I do not want to run my fingers through his hair). And that is his description. God, I'll be lying if I said I haven't drooled over him. And the best thing is that he doesn't have that fuckboy personality, however, he is egoistic. But, it's not that bad. He's surprisingly kind and doesn't just talk to the 'cool people'.

I've only spoken to him a few times, and maybe we exchanged numbers, and maybe I've hung out with him, and maybe I've gone over to his house and he's come over to mine. Although, nothing has ever happened, and he has never tried to ask me out on a date, so I never saw this coming. "No way. You're lying," I spoke, still surprised. "I've never seen you speak to him. I don't believe you. Who told you? When did you find out? Lucius does not like me. Do not lie to me, Ackerman." The raven smirked. "Someone has a crush on him." I scoffed. "No, I don't... It's just shocking that the heartthrob of our uni supposedly likes me out of all people. Tell me where you heard this." "The previous heartthrob, I'm the current one," he corrected, being a cocky mf, before continuing when I rolled my eyes. "And just because you've never seen me talk to him, doesn't mean I haven't." "When did you find out?" "Last week." "Bitch, why didn't you tell me then, you asshole?" "Because I never knew you had feelings for him." "I do not. And I still don't believe you--" "It's true. What Levi's saying is true," the brown-haired male on my left told me as I walked in between them. "And how do you know?" I crossed my arms. "He told me as well, but this was a few months ago. The only reason he told me was that he knew you and I were close and thought that I could help him. However, I didn't because--" "Yeah, I know," I cut him off, already knowing the answer which was that Jean still liked me at the time. "Yeah, that's why he told me as well," Levi said, opening the door to the cafe. I let Jean go in first and I followed after him, Levi trailing behind. "I mean, he never told me to tell you, but to help him I thought I should tell you, which makes it easier. And since you two like each other, go fuck." I scowled and lightly slapped his bicep for being so vulgar. "I'm being honest, I don't have any feelings for him. What am I meant to do now?" "Darlin', Lucius, the former heartthrob, has his eyes on you. And you aren't going to do anything about it?" "What do you expect me to do? Lie to him, get into a loving relationship, which will be completely one-sided, and then get married?" I questioned, standing in the queue. "Yeah." "Are you a fucking idiot?" "(Y/N), there are probably hundreds of girls that would love to be in your place," Jean pointed out. "Yeah, I'm not one of them," I muttered, my heart still clinging onto Levi who was taken and obviously doesn't like me, whereas, there's Lucius, who's kind, sweet, funny, single and so damn sexy, and he's the one that likes me. Why is life so difficult? "I can't just force myself to fall in love with him." "What's stopping you?" Levi asked. "Even I think he's a dream guy." You are the only dream guy. "So do I," Jean said. "Nothing's stopping me. I just don't feel anything for him," I stated with a shrug. "Tch. Is Eren working today? I'm not bothered to wait in this queue and hear your shit." "You don't have to be so rude," I pouted in mock offence. "Anyway, I don't think so." "You might want to think again, princess," an additional voice joined the conversation. I found Eren walking towards us after clearing a table. "What are these two annoying you about?" "Apparently, Lucius Silva likes me. These two are trying to help him and want me to date him, however, I don't want to because I simply don't have any romantic feelings for him. They think something is stopping me from dating him. You know I've never actually developed feelings for that stupidly beautiful guy. Yeah, I do find him hot as fuck and so sweet, but I truly don't have a crush on him or whatever." "Lucius? That guy in your uni that every girl falls for?" he asked and I nodded. "He is charming, but you have no feelings for him, so forget about it." "Thank you. So both you idiots can forget about it. I'm going to talk to him myself so stay out of it now." "This is coming from another one of your fans. He probably just wants you to himself," Levi murmured. "Why are you so eager to make me date him? I'll date who I truly like and when I want to." "Who is this person that you truly like?" Jean inquired. "... No one. I'm saying that once I find that person, I'll date them." "Hey, leave her alone now, Horseface. Let (Y/N) do what she wants," Eren backed you up, draping an arm around your shoulders. "Anyway, here's a free table so you can sit down. What do you guys want?" "I--" "Wait, ladies first," Eren cut Jean off with a smirk. "Just my usual coffee. Thanks." "Of course. And Levi?" "An Earl Grey with no milk." "Okay. And what do you want, Jean?" "A--" "Sorry, we're out of that." "Eren, stop being a jerk. Let Jean order," I told him, holding back my laugh. "Could I have a tuna sandwich, please?" he said through gritted teeth. "Sure. I'll bring your orders soon." "Thank you, Eren." "He's such a prick." "Well, he's a prick that stopped you guys from forcing me to date Lucius-- Oh, god, why?" I groaned and flitted my eyes away from the entrance of the cafe as Levi and Jean's eyes wandered over to where I was previously looking, finding Lucius walking in by himself. "Ah, perfect timing," Jean smiled and I shot him a glare. "Are you going to say anything?" "No. But if he comes up to me, then yeah. Ugh, and it looks like he's coming to our table," I mumbled. "Hey, stop stressing. This would've been completely normal if we hadn't told you," Levi murmured. "Whatever. I hate people-- Hi, Lucius," I beamed. "Hey. Do you mind if I sit?" he asked in that husky, sexy voice that I wish I could listen to all day. And there was a sexy smile playing on his sexy lips, flashing his great teeth that made him all the more charming. Ah, and those dimples. Why does he have to look so good? “Of course," I smiled and removed my bag from the only unoccupied seat, allowing him to sit next to me. It was a round table that made us kind of sit in a circle and my situation was not okay. Uh, I'm kind of sitting in between both of the most attractive men I've met - Levi and Lucius. Ugh, I can just bet I'm blushing so hard right now. I want to get out of this position. Where's Eren? He'll save me. "It's your birthday tomorrow, right?" "Yeah. I haven't planned anything special since I don't know what I want to do." "I offered--" Jean started but I kicked his shin under the table. "Nevermind." "Why don't we do something together, like us four and any other friends you want?" "Um, I'll see because I think my family might be planning something. But, your idea does sound great." "Make sure you let me know if you're free." If he didn't say to invite other friends, it would literally sound like he's asking me out on a date. "I will. Anyway, tell me your order." "It's fine. I can go order myself." "You can, but you'll have to wait in the queue. Just tell me what you want." "Okay," he grinned. "Can I just have an iced coffee, please?" "Sure. I'll be right back," I stated and stood up from my seat, finally being able to escape. I exhaled and found Eren, holding a tray with our orders on it. "(Y/N). What do you need?" "Lucius kind of joined our table and I needed a way to get up from the table, so could I have an iced coffee for him?" "Yeah, you can wait by the counter if you don't want to sit there yet. I'm just going to give these to the two idiots and make his iced coffee." "Okay." I stood by the counter, waiting for Eren to come back and he soon did, beginning to make Lucius' beverage. "What happened? Why were you so uncomfortable?" "Well, I just found out today that Lucius likes me so obviously I don't want to talk to him straight away. And I was sitting in between him and Levi. And he told me that if I don't have plans for my birthday, me and those idiots sitting at the table should go out and I can invite other friends." "I see... I honestly don't know what you should do. Just try and forget about it since you have no feelings for him." "Eren, what if we do go somewhere tomorrow and he ends up asking me out or telling me he likes me?" "Wow. I've never seen a girl not want to date him. I bet even Hanji would even though she has a boyfriend," Eren chuckled and I frowned at him since it wasn't amusing for me. "Anyway, if that happens, turn him down. Don't be rude about it, just let him know you aren't interested in getting into a relationship." "But what if he doesn't talk to me anymore? I still want to be friends." "Why do you want to be friends with everyone? You have to let some people go." "Lucius is not a person, he's an angel. And I want to be friends with him because he's a great guy in general." "Then tell him that even though he likes you, things won't be awkward and you still want to be in contact with him." "I actually love you so much," I blurted out and Eren grinned, handing me the cool drink. "Anyway, thank you so much for your help." "No problem. Now, go sit down and forget about everything. Boys are idiots, just remember that." I giggled and nodded before giving him a small wave and sitting down at the table. I placed the iced coffee in front of Lucius who smiled at me. Do not smile at me. You're already attractive, a smile makes you look like a freaking Adonis. "Thank you." "You're welcome." ~/~ So, it looks like I'm going to go out with Lucius, Levi and Jean since my family decided that it would be better for me to spend my birthday with my friends. However, people I wanted to invite didn't come since they said they were busy with something. Like bitch, it's my birthday, you aren't allowed to be busy. Even Eren and Hanji aren't coming. I thought Eren, of all people, would come to help me. "(Y/N)! Hey," the tanned male smiled as he approached me, in the place where we agreed to meet up, which was just outside our university. "Oh, hey," I replied. "Jean and Levi have something to do. They cancelled last minute." "What?" I uttered, realising it'll just be me and him. I hate everyone. "Yeah, they said they have to do something, I don't know what it was. Do you still want to go somewhere?" "... Sure," I spoke after some consideration. "Do you have anything in mind?" "You're the birthday girl, you choose." "I don't mind. I'm literally up for anything." "Well, I was thinking of going ice skating, if you want." "Yeah, that sounds fun." "Let's go, then," he smiled. But it was a different kind of smile. I couldn't tell what it was, but it wasn't his usual, charming smile. I brushed it off as I followed him towards his car. He first opened the boot to let me put my backpack and the gift bags I had inside before closing it. He then opened the door for me, I gave him a small smile and 'thank you' before sitting down as he gently shut it before sitting in the driver's seat. "Did any of your other friends not want to come?" "They all apparently had something to do--" I was cut off by my phone ringing, so I fished it out of my pocket before answering it. "Hello?" "Hey, (Y/N)." "Eren. Aren't you meant to be busy doing something?" I asked coldly. "Hey, don't be annoyed. I have an assignment to give in on Monday but I didn't even make a start on it until now. Anyway, I'm taking a break to talk to my princess since I'm sure she isn't having a great time without me. Are you going out with Jean, Levi and Lucius?" "No. Levi and Jean also cancelled. I didn't expect everyone to try and avoid me on my birthday" "You're nineteen years old now, stop acting as if you're nine so don't sulk," he told me, making me wonder how he knew I was sulking. "And, I'm not avoiding you. Aren't I the only one who called you?" "Maybe... But, I'm still not happy with you." "Okay, so what are you doing now?" "I'm going to go ice skating with Lucius, my only true friend." Eren chuckled on the other side of the phone and I heard the male driving laugh as well. "I'm sorry. I'll try and finish this shitty thing before Monday and then I'll promise to take you somewhere. I'll even force everyone to come." "Thank you," I grinned. "I'll see you soon." "Okay, bye." "Everything okay?" "Eren just decided to check up on me. He has some assignment to do." "Brunette, teal eyes?" "Yeah. I introduced you to him before. And we hung out a couple of times." "I like him, he's a good person." During the rest of the journey, we spoke some more before we eventually reached the ice rink. We paid (well, Lucius did since he said he has to treat the birthday girl), we put on our skates and stepped onto the rink. However, I had some trouble since I hate falling on my butt if I slip. Also, what if when I fall, someone's skates slice my fingers? So much danger. "(Y/N), there are people behind you, come on." I bit the inside of my cheek before taking the attractive man's outstretched hand, stepping onto the ice. I wobbled but he kept me up, making sure that I wouldn't fall. I reached to grab the ledge of the rink, but Lucius had other ideas. He prevented me from holding onto the rim and took me to the middle as his grip loosened on my hand. "No! Don't let go!" I shouted, clutching his hand as he chuckled, puffs of air emanating from his nose and mouth. "I never knew you were scared of something like ice skating," he said, leading me back to the edge of the rink so I could hold onto it. He still stayed by my side, smirking at me. "What are you smiling about?" I inquired, with the arch of my eyebrow. "You look adorable when you're afraid," he told me quietly, causing a red tint to creep onto my cheeks. "I'm going to let go now. I'm coming back to you in five minutes, and I want to see you twirling in the middle like a ballerina," he teased and I playfully rolled my eyes. "You ask for too much." "Well, if you aren't skating by yourself in five minutes, I'm going to drag you back to the middle and leave you." "You're so mean. I'm going to die." "It's an ice rink. How the hell are you going to die?" he laughed softly. "Someone's skates can slice my neck if I fall." "That's very unlikely. Anyway, I'll see you in a few." "Okay." I tried skating by myself, but every time I did, I felt as if someone was going to knock me down and kill me. Yeah, I may be being dramatic, but I'm sure it can happen. Soon, I was kind of, sort of, not really skating away from the edge, which is when the heartthrob decides to scare me, causing me to flinch and slip. However, you know those stupid, rom-com films in those cliché moments when a character is about to fall, someone (and that someone just happens to be a love interest or some shit like that) saves them by catching them and it's all romantic and stupid and they end up kissing. Yeah, well, this is one of those stupid cliché moments where Lucius catches me and my arms wrap around him, and our faces are only centimetres away. He quickly straightened both of us so we were standing, and he just blinked at me when I stared at the ice beneath my skates. Fortunately, we didn't kiss. "Thanks," I muttered. "Don't worry about it. Also, I'm happy to see that you aren't holding onto something." "Well, I thought that it would be better to skate myself than to have you force me." "True. However, I don't see you twirling like a ballerina." "Hey, no, I'm not doing that. You can't even do that." "You sure about that? Watch." He seized my hand once again and took me to the middle where he started to spin and skate. I gaped in amazement before he came back to my side, bringing me to spin and skate with him. I refused at first, but he ended up getting me to do it. And guess what? I fell. On my butt. Which is what I didn't want to happen. However, no one sliced my fingers off and Lucius helped me stand. When I was standing, we found out that our session was over so we had to leave the ice rink (aka, death valley). "Do you regret skating?" "No. I had fun. Thank you," I smiled. "Anyway, you know me so you should know my next question." "Where are we eating?" he guessed. "Yep." "What do you feel like?" "Uhh... Maybe Italian? What do you want?" "I don't care. But, I don't feel like sitting in a restaurant, I'd rather relax at one of our apartments and eat there. So takeaway?" "Sure, that sounds so much better than being in a place full of people. Want to chill at mine?" "Okay, let's go." Lucius and I got our food before driving towards my apartment, where I'm guessing Hanji was probably doing work or something since she was so busy to miss my birthday. I mean, it's half past six so maybe I could do something with her later. We parked near the apartment complex and walked up the stairs before I got my keys, unlocking the door to find all of the lights off. I frowned before turning on the light in the corridor, taking my shoes off as Lucius did the same. "I'm home!" I called like I usually did before locking the door and padding over to the living room, where it was dark as well with the tall male following. "I'll get drink--" I started, turning the light on. "SURPRISE!!!" "What the fuck?!" I yelled, taking a step back as my eyes ran over every person that stood in the living room. A couple of tears brimmed my eyes before dropping. "... I hate all of you," I mumbled and covered my face with my hands as I heard laughs. "Aw, (Y/N)." "Why are you crying?" "Hey, come on, you're meant to be smiling." I ignored the rest of the statements when I felt arms loop around me, and I knew who it was without having to look at them. I returned the hug and stuffed my face into their chest. "Happy birthday, princess," Eren whispered as he ruffled my hair. "You know how emotional I can be," I murmured. "Why did you do this?" "Are you saying you don't like it?" "No, I love it. Thank you so much. It's just that I embarrassed myself in front of so many people." “They don't care." "I still hate all of you for tricking me into thinking that you guys don't care about me." "Love you, too," he teased and ruffled my hair once again, pulling away from the embrace. He handed me a tissue and wiped my tears away. "Go change - there's an outfit on your bed." "Okay," I grinned, my eyes only focusing on him since I didn't want to look at anyone else yet. I first went to the bathroom to wash my face before going to my room. I found one of my favourite dresses laying on it, along with some jewellery. I changed into it and put on the jewellery before styling my hair to my liking. I also put on a little bit of makeup prior to looking at my reflection, admiring my attire. Once I was happy with my outfit, I went back to the living room, where everyone was talking. I gave some people a grin when my mother approached me with a smile. "You look very pretty," she complimented me and I thanked her as she led me to the table where a cake rested with candles lit. "Happy birthday, sweetie." I blew out the candles with a smile before cutting it into slices. I was about to take a bite of my cake slice before my father stopped me. "Allow me," he said, taking the cake from my hands and bringing it to my mouth. Instead, he decided to smash it into my face as I let out a small gasp as others laughed. "Here." Levi gave me a tissue which I took. "Oh, Mr Moody, thank you." "Happy birthday, darlin'. I know I said it earlier, but whatever." "Thank you. Oh, I just remembered. I left all the gifts in Lucius' car, I'll go get them." "Oi, idiot, you're the birthday girl. Stay here and I'll ask him to bring them." "You're being surprisingly nice in a way." "Shut up." "Aw, you ruined it." He rolled his eyes before going to find Lucius as I went to Hanji, who was talking to Petra, Isabel and Farlan. They all grinned and greeted me, wishing me a happy birthday and passing me some presents, which I thanked them for. "Hanji, who and when did they plan all this?" "Eren and I did. We've been planning it for about a week, which is why no one went out with you today since they were helping. Thankfully, we had Lucius--" she cut herself with a gasp. "Does Lucius like you?" she asked once she saw that he was nowhere to be seen. "I think so. Both Jean and Levi said he does." "Oh my god!! That's amazing!" she squealed and I snorted. "Wait. Lucius Silva, the most attractive guy in our uni?" Petra questioned in surprise and I nodded. "Wow. I go for like two minutes and you're dreaming about another man," Levi teased when he joined our group conversation. Petra only smiled at him and muttered an 'idiot' under her breath.

"Anyway, has he asked you out, (Y/N)?" she questioned. "Nope. I don't want him to," I told them. "Are you crazy?!" Isabel suddenly shrieked. "He's so good-looking, and so kind, and so attractive, and just amazing! How do you not want him to ask you out?" "I don't wish to date him. I don't have any feelings for him." "Girl, you're crazy stupid." "Petra, you're dating this asshole here. Imagine you didn't like him and you found out he likes you out of all the other girls that hit on him. What would you do?" "I guess I wouldn't date him. I shouldn't force myself to just because of who it is, I should wait to date the right person I like." "Thank you so much. Your idiot boyfriend was saying the complete opposite and told me to get married to Lucius. In fact, other than Eren, you're the only person that understands me in this situation." "Levi, don't force her to date someone she doesn't even like." "Well, she claims she's not dating Eren and that she has no interest in anyone right now, so why shouldn't she go for it?" "I can find him sexy or whatever, but it doesn't mean I actually have feelings for him. I'm not going to magically fall in love with him if he asks me out. I'm going to be pretending and I don't want that. And shut up now since he's back." "(Y/N), I got your presents. Where should I put them?" "Oh, I'll take them to my room. Thanks for getting them." "No problem." I took the gift bags from his hold and placed them on my bed before making my way back to the living room, deciding to join another group. Ah, Eren, Jean, Armin, Connie, Sasha - all of them I knew from secondary school so they were the ones I loved the most. Except for Eren who I've known for more than half of my life. "Hey, guys!" I beamed and rested one arm on Jean's shoulders as the other draped around Armin. "(Y/N)! Happy birthday!" Sasha and Connie shouted at the same time and both of them passed me a present. "Thank you, both of you." Armin also gave me a gift which I thanked him for. Jean had already given me a present earlier at uni so he only told me how beautiful I looked, which I playfully rolled my eyes to. "I'm going to give you my present at the end of the evening," Eren told me. "You know, best for last." "Okay, thanks. Have you lot had drinks and snacks?" "I'm holding a plate of snacks right now," Eren pointed out with a soft laugh. I took some of his snacks and chucked them into my mouth, giving him a smile. "I just realised that I haven't eaten yet." "Go and get your ass some food." "I will. Let me just talk to you guys since they are going to be so many other people I have to talk to. And I love you guys the most here. Apart from my family, of course. But you're my second family."

I messed around with the five of them and burst into loud laughter many times. Soon, Hanji joined us and it was if we were back at secondary school since we're barely able to hang out like this now. "God, I actually miss this," Hanji grinned, wiping her tears away that fell when we were laughing. "Anyway, (Y/N)~ Lucius asked for you," she smirked. "Why? I don't want him to ask me out," I whined. "Lucius?" Armin, Sasha and Connie exclaimed at the same time. And I'm just glad that everyone is loud and there is music, otherwise he would've heard. I sighed before briefly explaining it to them, all of them being surprised. Before they could say anything else, like trying to force me to fall in love with him, I went to the man everyone loved. "Hey. You wanted to talk to me?" "Yeah. I haven't given you your present yet. Happy birthday." "Aw, thank you. I'll open it later since I've got a bunch and I'm not bothered to open all of them yet." "Okay. I hope you'll like it." "Thank you again. Also, we still haven't eaten, do you want to get some snacks?" "Sure," he said with a shrug and we both went to the kitchen where the snacks were set in different platters. He got both of us disposable plates and we filled out plates with food "Are you enjoying yourself so far?" "Yes, I'm so happy. This is definitely one of my best birthdays. And I'm guessing they asked you to keep me busy?" "Yeah. That's the only reason I said to get takeaway so I could bring you home. But I would still prefer that than staying in a restaurant, too." "Me, too. I'm never more comfortable than I am at home."

“You look very... beautiful, by the way." "Thank you. I didn't think I would get a compliment from you, the person that everyone swoons over." "Well, they can't help it. I'm too damn sexy," he smirked and winked. I laughed and lightly shook my head. "You're so cocky." "Are you one of those people that swoon over me?" "Nope. I'm not your ordinary girl." "You certainly aren't," he said quietly, causing me to glance up at him as both of us leaned against the counter in the kitchen, standing next to each other. "What do you mean by that?" I asked cautiously, hoping he wasn't going to tell me something in particular. "You're not like other girls. You're cool, smart, funny, kind, sometimes rude but in a jokey way, you can be strong, and on top of it all, you're beautiful," he confessed, and I bit the inside of my bottom lip. "(Y/N), I--" "(Y/N)!" a voice called, allowing me to breathe. I saw my mum calling me over and I quietly apologised to Lucius before going to my family. "What's up?" "You've barely spoken to us this whole time," my dad stated. "Well, dad, you smothered my face with cake." "Happy birthday, (Y/N)!" my little brother squealed and I picked him up. No matter how old he is, I'll always pick him up because he's too adorable. "(Y/N), who's that handsome guy you were talking with before?" my mum questioned with a smirk, so I rolled my eyes. "Lucius." "I'm going to have a talk with him," my father said, about to walk towards him but I stopped him. "Dad, I'm not in a relationship with him. And I don't like him either. There's nothing to talk to him about." "Fine. But if lays a finger on you, he's never coming near you again." "Well, we held hands when we went ice skating." "What?!" "It was because I was scared I was going to fall. Dad, there's nothing to worry about. He's a good person." "Okay, if you say so." "(Y/N), where's Eren?" the six-year-old boy asked and I turned around to look for said male. He was talking to Hanji and Historia. "He's over there. Why?" "I want to play with him." "I'll take you to him," I grinned. "Wait, (Y/N). Here's your present." "Oh, thank you. Could you leave it in my room, please, since my hands are kind of full?" "Okay." I smiled at my parents before making my way to Eren with (B/N) in my arms. He spotted me and gave me and my brother a toothy grin. "Hey, Eren. (B/N) said he wants to play with you." "Aw, okay." "Even though I don't want to, I need to go back to Lucius. I'm pretty sure he was about to confess his feelings to me but my mum called me," I whispered to Hanji who gasped and grinned. I don’t know why she was acting like I was going to get into a relationship with him, even though she knows I like Levi. I went back into the kitchen, apologising to the male once again as he brushed it off. "Um, you were saying something before I left..." "Yeah," he sighed and scratched the back of his head. "(Y/N), I... like you. Romantically," he proclaimed, and I pretended to be shocked. "Uh, are you willing to go on a date with me?" Okay, firstly, he's fucking cute when he's nervous. Secondly, I'm sorry but, I'm going to make him upset. "Lucius, you know I think you're a great friend. And as I was saying, I'm not one of those girls who have fallen in love with you. Don't get me wrong, you are sexy as hell, and you're sweet, and a gentleman, and any girl would be lucky to be with you. However, I can't be that girl. I'm sorry. I'm not interested in getting into a relationship with anyone right now. But, I promise you that we can still be friends and it won't be awkward at all. I don't want to lose you, you're a great friend, Lucius. Although, it's your choice." "..." He was silent and I bit the inside of my cheek, starting to feel guilty. I wanted to hug him, but I didn't want to give him any kind of affection after I said all that. "Lucius?" "... That's fine. If you're still willing to be my friend, that's good enough. Thanks for not being harsh about it," he told me with a small smile. It was a sad smile, which I've never seen on his soft lips. "I'm sorry." "You have nothing to apologise for. It's your choice on who you date or don't date. I'm sorry for bringing it up." "Don't say sorry. Everyone has feelings and should voice them out." "You're truly an amazing girl. Whoever you decide to date is going to be extremely fortunate." I giggled softly. "Thank you. Honestly, the same can be said about you." "Also, I know you think so much of me, so that satisfies me as well," he smiled, and this time, it was genuine so I returned it. "Well, if someone disagrees with what I said, they don't deserve to know you.”

He chuckled and pushed away from the counter, I followed suit.

"I'm going to the bathroom. Are you going to follow me there? Of course, I have no problem with that." I snickered. "I'm not following you, idiot. I'm going to Eren." "Hey, wait... Is Eren the person that stole your heart?" "No. No one currently has it." "Okay, good." I beamed at him before he went to the bathroom and I went to Eren who was still playing with my brother on the sofa. I sat down next to Eren and held my plate, taking a snack every now and then. He started to tickle my brother who squirmed on the furniture and his giggles echoed, making me smile. "You look like a family," a voice stated, causing me to look up and meet grey hues. "What, so you're saying I got a kid at thirteen?" "It happens." "Yeah, well, not to me." "But you don't deny that you're a couple?" "Whatever... You know Lucius just asked me out a few minutes ago," I muttered and stared at my plate. Levi's and Eren's head turned towards me. Eren told (B/N) to go back to my parents. "What?" "We were in the kitchen by ourselves. He started going on about how I'm not an ordinary girl and all my characteristics that he likes. He was about to confess, but my mum interrupted him. After I went back to him, he said he likes me and I rejected him in the most gentle way I could. We ended up just joking around and here I am." "I swear, every time you have a serious conversation with someone, it just turns into something casual and funny," Levi said. "Because I'm an amazing person that can bring happiness to people,” I said, causing Levi to roll his eyes. "Wait. So, he agreed to still be friends?" "Yeah. Since I said things about him, like how he's sexy and kind and whatever, he said he's happy that I still think of him like that. Everything's fine." "Good... Did he try to kiss you?" Eren asked. "No." "What are you guys whispering about~?" Hanji beamed and plopped onto the sofa, nearly squishing me. "Lucius asked (Y/N) out. She said no. They're still going to be friends." "You idiot! Why did you say no?" "Hanji, why do you think?" "... Ohh." "What's 'ohh'?" Levi frowned. "Nothing, Shorty!" "Tch." His eyebrow twitched at the nickname. "I already said not to call me that." "But it suits you perfectly." "Fine. I'm going to call you... Four Eyes, then." "They're so childish," I muttered to Eren as they started to argue. I rested my head on Eren's shoulder, letting out a small huff so he looked at me in question. "I'm waiting for my family to leave so we can bring out the alcohol." "Wow," he chuckled. "You know I love them, but I just want to get drunk." "Don't do anything stupid when you do get drunk." "I have no intention of sleeping with anyone." "Yeah, well, don't call me tomorrow afternoon, telling me that you woke up with someone in your bed." ~/~ A splitting headache was the first thing I experienced when I opened my eyes, glad for my blackout curtains that prevented light from coming in. I laid on my back, my body aching when I tried to turn on my side. However, once I did shift onto my side, my eyes widened and I scrambled to get out of bed, realising I was naked. When I went past the mirror in my room to find something to quickly slip on, my eyes somehow widened further at the sight of the hickeys that decorated my chest and neck. "Shit, shit, shit," I whispered, slipping on a t-shirt and some shorts, not caring about wearing any underwear since I was freaking out. I walked over to the side where a particular human being lay and shook them with the call of their name. "Eren! Eren, you fucking jerk, wake up! Eren!" "What?" he grumbled, his eyes still closed. "Open your fucking eyes and get up," I snapped, a scowl dancing over my visage. He did as I said, yawning and rubbing his eyes before sitting up. Once his vision was cleared, he took in his surroundings, saw the marks on my neck, and realised he wasn't wearing a shirt. Piecing it together, he shot me a worried look as I stood in front of him, with my arms crossed over my chest. "Did we...?" he murmured, his eyes walking over the floor to find his shirt, trousers and boxers, along with my clothes. "Oh, fuck..."

[thedeadthree]

AT THE MOMENT

oh my god hi!! i was tagged by the sweetest ever leo @starryache thank you so so much hun this was a lot of fun to do!!

FAVORITE COLOR - burgundy and sage green!!

FAVORITE FOOD - arrabbiata pasta, any and all soups, honey lavender cookies, dark chocolate, and coffee ice cream!!

SONG STUCK IN MY HEAD - Formula, by labrinth!! [i found it on my discover weekly playlist on spotify a couple days ago and it’s been stuck in my head since!!]

LAST THING I GOOGLED - PlayStation remote play!! bc im a grandma and needed help with getting that running asdffjhjd [which ig the console needs to be on and i can only run bloodborne so far!! it’s so weird to see bloodborne on ur phone let me tell ya]

DREAM TRIP - i would love to visit Europe!! [I have some family in italy and i would loove to visit!! id also LOVE to visit france and england!!], also japan, new york, salem, and montreal!!

TIME - 6:20 am!!

TEA OR COFFEE - a good amount of people are convinced my body is 70% coffee so id have to say coffee!! but i genuinely love chamomile tea with every fiber of me :)

LAST SHOW I WATCHED - ive been working a buunch lately so i havent been watching a lot of tv lately!! i think the last one i watched was the bad batch on disney+ though!!

CURRENTLY READING - currently finishing up on the silmarillion atm and then im going to start reading the witcher novels!! [since s2 is coming out this year and for writing martyna lore!!]

CURRENTLY WATCHING - catching up on the bad batch and loki!! and planning to start what if…? and la by night soon!!

SWEET, SAVORY, SPICY - oh spicy for sure!! i absolutely adore spicy food so much :) [sweet things give me a headache for some reason i don’t know why?? other than spicy id go for savory!!]

LAST THING I LISTENED TO - traitor, by olivia rodrigo!! [pain is the plan today ✨😌]

LAST MOVIE I WATCHED - the suicide squad on hbo max!! but spiderman: homecoming was on tv a couple days ago!!

ULT GROUPS - none at the moment!!

CRAVINGS - there is this coffee stand by my work that has these amazing vegetarian breakfast burritos that i could seeeriously go for right now :)

HOBBIES - editing, yelling “writing” / creating for my ocs, makeup, reading, playing video games and ifs, and hanging out with my dogs!!

FEELING - suuuper super tired but really excited to go to a con im going to tomorrow!! and mentally I’m doing a lot better than i was a few days ago!! [also working an 8 hour today so i finally opened up my asks to do like oc asks or something on my lunch break!! but feel free to send IF recommendations, movies and tv recs, or anything else as well!!

TAGGING - @jamesbvchanans @jackiesarch @lacunafiction @chuckhansen @solarisrenbeth @pearlcscent @nellplays @mementovivere @elmshore @yennas @jmiacolt and anyone else that would like to do this!!

[luvlyrv]

My Model | Yeri x f!Reader College!au

Genre: College AU, fluff

Summary: Yeri needs a model for her final project. You need some money. With the time you spend working for Yeri, something starts to bubble up in your heart.

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: Ah, school's already started again. What a bummer. It's almost 2AM and my sleep schedule is still very much fucked. Whatever, I'm feeling kind of down in the dumps so I wanted to write something cute. I also am considering writing a mafia!au series for Irene, please tell me if you'd like that or not! Otherwise, just enjoy this writing please :) even though I feel like the quality is significantly worse than my other writings. OH AND HAPPY NEW YEAR! AHH ALSO IN THE MIDDLE OF WRITING YERI POSTED ON IG. 

Date: 1/6/2021

It all started when you spent Saturday evening venting out all your stress to your close friend, Sooyoung.

"I'm sorry, I know we're supposed to be relaxing together right now but it's the only thing on my mind! I mean, they laid me off work last second and it's not like I have another job lined up and waiting for me. I wasn't even a bad employee! They were just trying to cut costs!" You tiredly half-shouted to Sooyoung.

She sat on the other end of the couch, body bundled up in your blankets while nodding. She patiently listened to your worries and complaints. After you had said what was on your mind, you both decided to binge some awful zombie movies.

* *

You were quickly redoing some of your notes when you heard a faint vibration coming from your phone. You picked up your phone, checking the notification from Sooyoung that just appeared.

"heyyy, i know this isn't an actual long-term job that ur looking for but i have a friend who could use some help rn! she'll pay!"

You feel a spark of excitement as you begin to type back a reply.

"Yes!! Anything helps. I don't care what it is I'll do it."

"are u free tomorrow?"

"Yeah."

"her name is yeri and she just needs a model for her to create some outfits and shoot pictures of. meet her tomorrow at xxxx at three?"

"Tell her sure thing :)"

With that you returned to studying with a small smile on your face with a little bit of your worries melting away.

* *

You rock back and forth on your heels, nervous to meet a stranger. You knock on Yeri's door only to be met back with a faint clatter and muffled footsteps. A short while later you hear some muttering as the door finally opens. 

"Hello!" 

While you were curiously scanning the area around her dorm room, the sudden sound of her voice made you shift your focus to the now open door and the girl standing in front of you. You felt your body stiffen as you made eye-contact.

"Ah, uhm, hello! Hi, you must be Yeri, right?" You manage to say aloud.

"Yeah, and you must be Y/N! Nice to meet you. You can come in." She says as she steps aside to make room for you.

You enter her room, only to be greeted by materials being strewn across nearly every piece of furniture possible. A clean mirror was in the middle of her room and a sewing machine sat off by the side.

"I'm a fashion major if you couldn't tell already." Yeri half-joked with a smile gracing her lips.

You smile back at her. "Yeah I assumed so from what Sooyoung described yesterday. How much are you paying again?"

"Well, I assume you took this job because you're a desperate broke college student. I am also a desperate broke college student. I'll give you around $25 after every session. I can't pay much but I'll try. I mean, you're giving me your time after all."

You nod at her answer. "Sessions? Am I going to have to come over multiple times?"

"Yeah, I have to create three different outfits. I'll just get your measurements today. After that you'll have to come over and model and make sure that they fit well and so I'll know if I have to do any revisions. So, mind if I start taking measurements now?"

"I wouldn't mind at all."

Yeri pulls out a measuring tape and begins to measure your body. She makes sure your posture is correct, placing a hand on your back, sending miniscule shivers down your spine. She moves around your body carefully making sure everything is accurate all while giving you the faintest touches around your body. You felt bad. There wasn't anything unprofessional about this situation at all, yet you couldn't help but to feel your face heat up a little. Yeri was a pretty girl and you just couldn't help but to melt around pretty girls. You found it a bit adorable to see her so focused on her task at hand. 

All too quickly Yeri announced that she was done taking your measurements. 

"Is that going to be all for today then?"

"I guess, I'll start working on the outfits now that I know your sizes." Yeri is already going to her sewing machine, her hand reaching out to a sketchbook you didn't realize was there before. "Oh! By the way, we should exchange numbers so I can tell you when we should meet up again." She says while looking back at you.

You pull out your phone and walk closer to her, the both of you exchanging contact details.

"Thanks for today, Y/N. I'll pay you next time you come. I'm sure you'll love the way these outfits look on you too!" 

You make your way out of her room and shut the door behind you for her. 

* *

Time has passed and you've already been to Yeri's place a couple times. Each time feeling a little bit more suffocating under Yeri's overwhelming presence. The way her eyes would look at you, carefully judging the details of the clothing she put hours of hard work in. The way she'd always thank you for your time. You couldn't help but want to know her more.

Despite wanting to get closer with her though, you never seemed to text her for any reason besides modelling for her. Sooyoung kept encouraging to just talk to her casually. You tried to follow her advice, tried to convince yourself that it wouldn't be the end of the world if Yeri didn't want to text you back, but every time you began to write a hello or considered sending her something you chickened out.

Today was another day where you would visit Yeri. You enter her room, basking in the warmth of Yeri's now familiar and welcoming smile.

Wearing the third and final outfit of Yeri's project you shyly spoke out, "Well, do you think this one needs anymore revisions?"

You watch as Yeri once again eyes you up and down. Yet, something felt different this time. Or perhaps you were making things up in your head. You watch as she turns her head back up to you with shining eyes.

"I think you look wonderful."

You purse your lips as you feel your heart beating way too fast.

"Honestly, this is my best work yet! God, I'm a genius. Hey, one day Y/N I'm gonna become a top designer and you'll be my model again. Got it?"

You crack open a smile along with Yeri at the sight of her enthusiasm. Although you didn't really feel close with her, let alone as close as you wish the both of you could be, over the past couple of weeks it felt like the two of you had warmed up to each other.

"I really appreciate the offer." You tell her with sincerity in your voice. It seemed like there would be no more revisions though, and no more revisions meant no more modelling for Yeri. With that your happy mood seemed to be ruined as you sighed and spoke out. "Well, I guess I'll change and be on my way then. Thank you so much for allowing me to work with you, Yeri."

After all this time, you failed to get to really know Yeri. You felt upset at the fact that it felt like you just wasted a chance to do something. Even though you'd still have her number after today, it was a near guarantee you'd still be too chicken to ever message her something. Disappointment began to build up in your mind as you made your way towards a room to change clothes. All of a sudden you heard Yeri's voice calling out to you.

"Y/N, if you really want to thank me, why not go on a coffee date with me sometime?"

[blossom-hwa]

kevin moon x pastry chef au

beautiful gorgeous love me some kevin moon shit on his date of birth all right here we go yes I'm a little unhinged tonight but nothing some good old blathering can’t fix right

all right so kevin started baking when he was like five and who knows why his parents let him in the kitchen i definitely don’t but it somehow worked out?? bc by age ten he could bake p well and his parents were like ‘we get free pastries in exchange for sometimes cleaning up his burns and occasional messes so we’re not complaining’ and even though they’re both sometimes like ‘KEVIN MOON YOU ARE THE REASON WE ARE GAINING WEIGHT’ no one really cares it’s all in good fun and kevin loves loves LOVES bringing people joy with sweet foods and sugar so :) he goes to school and gets a degree in culinary arts + business management and opens up his own little bakery. it’s v cute and v pretty and honestly anyone who walks by can’t help but at least look in through the windows bc the scene is so cheerful and warm and kevin will sometimes look outside and smile at whoever’s staring in and yeah let’s just say his smile attracts very many customers

meanwhile you are the only reason kevin didn’t fail all the stupid math courses in his business degree, like kevin professes his admiration for your ability to understand numbers on a semi-regular basis (aka every day. fellow baker jacob is sick of it but also too polite to say anything) and like?? it’s embarrassing but again you’re not going to complain bc it means whenever you visit the bakery on your way to work or during your lunch break you get free pastries + if you have a work function or something, kevin will always sell you cupcakes or brownies or cheesecake or fucking whatever at a discounted price and your entire workplace is in love with deadass in love with you like younghoon once proposed marriage just so he could get discounted chocolate bread and you’re p sure the only reason your boss sangyeon put an end to that was bc he half wanted to say it too

anyway

one day it’s raining and the bus stop is too far away for you to run to from work so you duck into the bakery and you’re soaking wet and shivering and kevin is in the middle of pulling a pan of brownies out of the oven when you come in and he just. drops the tray on the nearest flat surface (which happens to be jacob’s hands, after this jacob reminds him very loudly that he’s lucky he was wearing mitts or there would’ve been some serious fucking burns) and rounds the counter to be like what the FUCK y/n did you not bring an umbrella??? and you’re just like /sneeze/ bitch i forgot sue me and kevin just puts his own sweater around you and brings you a hot cup of tea or coffee or whatever the hell you like to drink and he gives you a ride home in his shitty little car and when you come in the next day smiling and wearing his sweater kevin is like oh. oh fuck i think i might be in love

lucky for the observers he says that out loud and the entire bakery is like :0 because the handsome baker just confessed to you and the grandmothers who come in for a treat are telling you to go for it and the little trio of teenage girls who definitely have a crush on kevin are watching in dismay there’s also a businessman who’s kind of impatient bc he only stopped by to get a treat for some of his workers because one of them’s been having a rough week at home and jacob is just paused in the entryway with a tray of cupcakes in his hands and EVERYONE is watching and waiting and you just. smile really wide bc this is everything you’ve dreamed of (minus the kind of public embarrassment) and it ends with kevin giving you a box of cookies because “i can’t confess to you without a present ok that’s not how things work” and jacob is making gagging sounds in the back and the businessman is like this is not how i expected my morning to go but it’s cute ig and the grandmothers are squealing and the girls are low-key glaring at you but they also have to grudgingly admit it’s rlly cute and over time they end up being some of your biggest shippers

you try to give kevin back his sweater but he says to keep it bc it looks better on you

younghoon fake cries over how you’re taken now so he’ll never have a chance at discount chocolate bread

kevin gives you even more free pastries every time you come in (so many that you can’t eat them all) and in the end you both start up a thing where you bring the leftovers to homeless shelters or give them away at events and yeah idk where this is going but you two are that v wholesome v sweet couple who are sometimes overly sweet and cliche but no one can help but coo over the two of you

that’s how it goes

[astralaffairs]

put a ring on it 03 | philip hamilton

title: put a ring on it

pairing: philip hamilton x reader

words: 11k 🤪

warnings: rlly none! hectic families, stupid pet names, uncomfy emotions, compromising positions. also dont any of u dare get as close to another human as is depicted here anytime soon. pls flatten the curve. social distancing is cool i swear.

a/n: lmao remember on part 2 when i said i wouldn’t take as long to update this time? here we are, almost exactly a year later, even tho i wrote 8k words of this in the past couple days. enjoy!!! better late than never ig.

desc: You’ve never liked Philip Hamilton, and have always assumed the feeling has been mutual. But when you’re roped into pretending to be his girlfriend for a family reunion, you feel all your truths beginning to melt away, and find them instead taking form in his smile.

tags: @stargazelaurens @ivory-haired-queens @exoticxchicken8 @assbuttstyles777 @superbarriobrothers @tf2germanvillain @ela-ena @abundant-stars @heytheredee-lilah @abovethyfold - lmk if you want to be added; sorry if i missed anyone!!

Philip had brought you coffee without you asking.

It was mid-morning after your shower; the carpet of Philip's room was soft under your feet as you grabbed your phone off the marble countertop of his sink, just enjoying the peaceful silence. You scrolled briefly through your texts, smiling as you declined an offer for a manufactured emergency from Patsy (not before you seriously considered it, though). You slid it into your back pocket before padding down the stairs to find wherever Philip had gotten off to.

And thus, you were met with the distinctly strong smell of coffee.

Your footsteps stalled only a moment. You furrowed your brow; the corners of your lips quirked as you continued into his kitchen. You found him sitting at the end of the table opposite where you stood, glasses pushed down the bridge of his nose, reading a newspaper and sipping coffee from a paper cup. Your smile grew as he didn't even realize you were there; you leaned forward, resting on the chair nearest you as you bit your lip.

"Hey." Your voice was soft as he looked up, giving you a soft smile as he met your eyes.

"Morning, princess," he hummed, taking another sip from his cup as he eyed you, his eyes crinkling at the corners with his smile. "How'd you sleep?"

"Pretty well." Your yawn came through in your voice despite your words, and he nodded, averting his eyes back to his paper. Neither of you dared mention how you'd woken up tangled in each other, your legs intertwined with his, hands in his hair and with his arms wrapped loosely around your waist, your head against his bare chest. Instead, you broke the silence with, "So, you gonna share any of that coffee with me, Hamilton? Or were you just gonna ignore these bags under my eyes?"

You pointed to yourself with mock annoyance, and he chuckled, putting down the newspaper. "What, you don't think I picked up anything for my girlfriend?" He raised an eyebrow, and you rolled your eyes, slumping into the seat opposite him.

"Oh yeah? What'd you get me?" Your tone was flat as you pinned him with a skeptical stare. He only grinned, leaning back and grabbing another paper cup from the counter behind him. You raised your eyebrows, eyes widening in the slightest. It probably shouldn't have come as a shock to you, but you couldn't help your surprise at the gesture.

He chuckled at your expression. "I can't believe you'd underestimate me like this." He put a hand on his heart with a mock pout as he passed the coffee across the table to you, and you took a seat, rolling your eyes.

"What's the catch?" you asked dryly.

"Does there have to be a catch?"

"Last time you brought me coffee I ended up here." You raised your eyebrows, looking at him knowingly, and he chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender.

"Alright, I get it. Point made." He grinned as he reached again behind him, grabbing a small brown bag and holding it out to you by its rolled opening. "But I brought you a croissant to make up for it."

Your eyebrows shot up when you saw the other bag, eyes widening in the least. "Coffee and food? Now there's definitely something up." You shot him a questioning look, and his obvious self-content didn't waver.

"Think of it as a "thank you'." Your skepticism far from dissipated, but something in the soft smile he wore made you take the bag from him with no further questions, a soft smile of your own gracing your lips.

You breathed in the warm, sweet air from the bag as you opened it, sighing at the smell of the croissant. As you broke a piece of it off, you looked up at him with an eyebrow raised. "So anyway, where's your family? House seems eerily empty."

He chuckled, raking a hand through his loose curls. "Yeah, it is. My siblings are all still at school for the next couple hours, and Mom and Pops are out getting breakfast with the Lafayettes. Said something about wanting to 'give the happy couple some time to themselves'."

You rolled your eyes. "So no one else is home?"

"So we're finally alone." He wiggled his eyebrows at you suggestively, and you scoffed.

"Just 'cause you brought me a croissant doesn't mean I'm about to jump your bones, Hamilton. Don't get your hopes up," you informed him dryly, but his amused grin didn't waver.

"Since we have the day free, though," he continued just as brightly, ignoring your unimpressed expression, "I figured I'd show you around the town a little, take you a few of the places I used to go."

You raised a brow. "Oh, yeah? I'm getting the grand tour?" A smile had at that point worked it's way back into your expression, sitting slightly lopsided as it played at your lips, though you tried to contain it. "Where are you gonna take me, Hamilton?"

His grin grew at your words, taking another sip of his coffee to hide his self-content. "You'll see."

-----------------------------------

"Where are we going?" you groaned as he tugged you around another corner in the quaint downtown of his small city. His grin never faltered; he seemed very much to have a set agenda. There were people and places he wanted to see. Seeing as this was his family reunion weekend, you couldn't have blamed him.

"C'mon, we're on the block now," he assured you, pulling you along in his haste to find the little storefront, wondering if it had yet changed the aging display in its frosted glass windows. You scoffed audibly, and he let out a little laugh. "What, don't believe me?"

"You'll forgive me for not trusting the eighth time you've told me we were almost there," you said dryly, letting him pull you along regardless. He shot you a look over his shoulder.

"No need to exaggerate, princess."

"Don't think I haven't been counting, Hamilton," you shot back, giving him a pointed look, and he rolled his eyes.

"Just come on."

You (grudgingly) allowed him to drag you along three more blocks, unsure what had overtaken you -- your feet were getting sore, your stomach was starting to cramp (you needed to work out more), and you really just wanted to sit down. Yet, something about how earnestly excited Philip was managed to keep you going, just a few more yards, just a few more yards. You tried to ignore the lopsided grin thrown over his shoulder and the teasing lilt to his voice that met your complaints.

"Here we are." He skidded to a halt in front of three stairs, a stone stoop, leading up to a glass door. You raised an eyebrow, turned your gaze to him.

"Where, exactly?"

His smile grew, and he nodded forward. "See for yourself."

You rolled your eyes as you followed him up, and he reached for the handle just before you, holding it open. You didn't acknowledge the action, just continued forward into the small shop.

It was an adorable space, dimly lit and colorful. Leafy plants spilled over from pots above the windows, contrasting with the bright red window frames on the sunny morning, interspersed with framed photos and paintings packed tightly together on the limited wall space. Soft guitar music drifted through under the buzz of chattering customers who'd arrived for their morning coffee. You could smell the coffee brewing behind the counter, the scent mixing with the sweeter one wafting from the ovens behind a swinging door.

"C'mon." You yelped in surprise as Philip's arm found its way around your waist, and he shot you an amused glance. You let him lead you forward, though, fighting the heat that began to rise in the back of your neck.

You neared the back of the store together, your gaze still wandering around the adorable coffee shop as you walked, and as the woman behind the counter caught sight of you, her eyes lit up in recognition.

"Philip!" She dropped the rag she'd been wiping her hands with onto the counter, rushing out from behind it to greet him as his arm came back around from your waist, instead pulling her into a tight embrace. You sighed internally as his warmth left your side.

"Hey, Aunt Maria," he said, grinning as he pulled back from the hug. "How've you been?"

"Worse without you," she scolded, whacking his chest lightly. "It's been what, four years since you've been home? Felt like an eternity."

He laughed, eyes still shining as he spoke to her. "Yeah, it's been too long. I've just been so busy."

Maria scoffed and promptly turned her attention to you, clearly not caring for any excuses for Philip's absence. "And who is this?"

“I’m Y/N,” you started, your smile unsure. At this, Philip also turned his gaze back to where you stood, grin growing on his face. “His girlfriend.”

Her face lit up again at this, immediately pulling you into a bone-crushing embrace. "Oh, you're the pretty thing I've been hearing about from Philip's parents for so long? It's so great to meet you."

You laughed as she finally pulled away, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. "I guess that must be me, unless there's another woman, hm?" You raised an eyebrow at Philip, grinning, and he just rolled his eyes. "It's good to meet you too, though."

Philip rested a hand on Maria's shoulder as she released your forearms, an affectionate look in his eyes as he glanced down at her. "Aunt Maria's an old family friend, Y/N. Pops helped her out of a tough spot when I was younger, and we’ve forced her to stick around with us ever since."

She smiled, putting a hand on his as she looked over at you. "I owe the Hamiltons big. They really changed my life a while back, helped me get away from my ex-husband, start a new life on my own. Can't thank them enough, honestly."

Philip rolled his eyes at that, giving a dramatic huff. "You owe us nothing. You’re all we need."

"Then stop spending so much time in the city!" she lectured him, giving a shell of a glare, and he laughed.

"I'll keep it in mind."

She glanced back at the counter over her shoulder, where her employees were still diligently taking orders, making coffee. "Anyway, I've gotta get back to work, but can I get you two a cup of coffee? Donuts? Crêpes?"

Philip looked at you as he came back around, pulled you softly to his side with an arm around your waist and a raised eyebrow. You gave Maria a warm smile.

"Just a coffee would be great."

"Same for me, then," Philip added, and Maria winked at the two of you as she made her way back to the counter.

"Two coffees coming right up for the happy couple. Feel free to have a seat anywhere," she called to you over her shoulder, and you grinned.

"Wanna sit down?" Philip asked, and you pursed your lips, pinching the hand that was squeezing your waist. He yelped, withdrew his arm from you with a wince, and you nodded and gave an easy smile.

"Let's go by the window."

He rolled his eyes as he followed you. You slid comfortably into one of the smooth wooden seats, glancing out at the sunny morning before you, and he sat across, an eyebrow raised.

"So, what do you think of my hometown so far?"

You looked back at him wearing a soft, mischievous smile and cocked an eyebrow at him. "You really wanna know?"

He fixed his stare on yours, and your grin grew (though you tried to suppress it). "Yeah."

"It'd be better without you here."

He scoffed loudly at that, turning his head from where he had sat facing you, his grin near indistinguishable in his indignant expression, and you couldn't suppress your full-bodied laugh at his reaction.

"C'mon, really?" While he tried to maintain his scowl, turning back to you had his smile widening at your repressed giggles. He fixed a glare over his gaze as you tried to swallow your grin. "God damn, I ask you a legitimate question, and you can't resist ripping on me?"

"It was just too easy!" you defended, brushing your hair away from your face as you looked sheepishly back at where he sat, shaking his head. "Honestly, though?"

"I dunno, am I gonna get an honest answer?"

You knew very well his skeptical expression was well-earned, and you grinned, rolling your eyes as you defended yourself. "Yes!"

He shrugged, motioning to the space between you, a silent go-ahead. You sighed.

"It's really nice." You glanced around the coffee shop as you spoke, your eyes ultimately finding his again, though now a dreamy look was painted across your features. "It's... homey."

"'Homey'?" he repeated your answer with a breathy laugh, and you rolled your eyes, playfully shoving the arm he had resting on the table.

"See, this is why I don't take your questions seriously, Hamilton," you scowled, feeling your face begin to grow hot at his reaction. "Give you an answer and you just make fun of me."

He chuckled as he reached for your hands, still resting on the table as the heat did not subside from the back of your neck. He took them in his, enveloping them as he gave you a simper. "Aw, c'mon, I'm not trying to tease you." His simper turned to a mocking pout, and you scoffed, rolled your eyes.

"Oh, whatever, Hamilton." You didn't pull your hands out of his grasp, though, refusing out of sheer spite to meet his eyes.

"I'm not kidding!" he defended himself, and you could see out of the corner of your eye the grin return to his face, seemingly entertained by your reaction. You were a bit preoccupied, though, with inhibiting the blush from your cheeks as you couldn't seem to focus on anything other than, God, how warm his hands were. You were painstakingly aware of every time they shifted against yours.

"'M glad you feel at home in my old town." Your annoyed gaze was still fixed on the table before you as you heard him let out a sigh, dropping his face to break your line of vision. "Princess?"

"Don't call me that, Hamilton."

He deadpanned. "Y/N."

You met his eyes with an expectant look, and for a moment, you just held his stare, almost didn't notice when your breath caught as the corners of his lips quirked upward. You frowned.

His grin only grew at your adverse reaction, breath coming out in a puff of laughter. He shook his head, tongue in cheek. "Loosen up."

The way he squeezed your hands reminded you how close the proximity between the two of you was. You could feel your heart jump in your chest. When his thumb smoothed over your knuckle, you felt suddenly very self-conscious about how sweaty your hands were.

You took a deep breath, feeling unable to hold his gaze any longer, looking out the window beside you. Thankfully, Maria chose that exact moment to arrive with your drinks.

"Two black coffees, right up!" You froze when you met her beaming expression, flinching as you almost tried to yank your hands from Philip's, feeling like a deer in headlights. He squeezed your hands softly, his expression concerned at how panicked you looked. You plastered on a smile, reminding yourself as your face heated up that you were there as his girlfriend, this was supposed to be normal, it was expected. What made you uncomfortable was exactly how normal it felt.

"Thanks, Maria." You withdrew your hands with a smile to take your coffee from her. You ignored her raised eyebrow, her pleased half-smile.

"You sure there's nothing else I can get you?" The maternal look in her eyes turned playful as she folded her arms. "Anything else to drink? Some lunch?" Her eyes narrowed a fraction of an inch. "Some privacy?"

You choked on the long sip of coffee you'd been taking, trying to catch your breath as Philip just laughed. You set the mug down as you coughed into the back of your hand, trying to stifle it.

"I think this'll be all for now," he said, "We probably aren't gonna loiter too much longer, don't worry."

Maria gave him a warm smile, a smile you only caught a glimpse of as you emerged from your coughing fit. (You also caught a glimpse of Philip suppressing a laugh at you, and made a mental note to chew him out for it later on.)

"You know you could spend forever here and I wouldn't mind."

"I know." You couldn't help but notice that his smile in return didn't quite meet his eyes; something melancholy lay behind them as well.

As she pursed her lips, you thought her expression looked quite a bit like your mother's when you left for college, almost tearing up, but holding it together for you. "Well, let me know before you all leave," she said softly, "You know I don't see enough of you around here as is."

"I know. We'll see you tomorrow, though? At the reunion?"

"Wouldn't miss it." The quiet sadness in her eyes disappeared as quickly as it came, and she reached down to squeeze your shoulder affectionately. "Looking forward to seeing the both of you there." Her wink before she turned away was blatant. You couldn't help your soft smile.

------------------------------

"So, when do I get to meet the rest of your family?" He'd taken you out through the middle of town, refusing to let on to your destination. It was a nice day out, luckily for you, but you still weren't fond of having to reach all your destinations on foot -- if you'd wanted a walking tour, you'd have asked.

He shrugged, hands in his pockets as he walked alongside you down the sidewalk, appreciating the lush greenery that lined the streets, and your gaze rested on his faraway expression as you raised an eyebrow.

"Dunno. Whenever my siblings get home. Angie'll be coming in before they all get outta school, so she might even be there when we get back, but the rest of them have classes for a few more hours."

"'The rest of them'? How many siblings do you have, Hamilton?"

"Just six."

"Six?!" you repeated, eyes wide, and he just nodded.

"Yeah. The youngest is four, that's Eliza, and I'm the oldest."

"How old are the others?"

He pursed his lips, as though deep in thought, and you really couldn't imagine having to strain to remember a sibling's age. "There's William, at seven, then John, who's eleven, James is fifteen and Alex is seventeen -- they're the ones in high school right now -- and then there's Angelica, who's nineteen."

You couldn't help but let out a low whistle at that. "Sounds exhausting for your parents."

"Really. I was the easy child, and it was all downhill from there." He grinned, and you rolled your eyes.

"You were the easy child? Tell me why I find that hard to believe." Your challenging tone just made him shrug.

"Dunno, princess. I've just always been so responsible that my parents had an easy time with me."

"And at what point did you lose the responsibility trait?"

"I mean, when I found out I could pawn off all my responsibilities onto you..." He trailed off with a grin, laughing when he saw your glare. "Aw, c'mon, I'm just kidding."

"What, about being responsible? Or about pawning your responsibilities off on me?" You raised a skeptical eyebrow as he shrugged. "Because we both know it's not the latter."

"Hey, let's not forget that you're here because you didn't wanna take on a responsibility."

"A responsibility you pawned off on me!" You scoffed, and his amused smile only grew, hands stuffed in his pockets as you walked alongside him.

"Why must you be so focused on pointing fingers, Y/N?"

"I'm not pointing fingers, you just--"

"We're here." You skidded to a halt as he cut off your rant at it's beginning, too absorbed in your argument (despite how obviously he was baiting you) to have realized he stopped walking. You raised an eyebrow, turning to face exactly what he was looking at, and while he began walking in without a second thought, you paused a moment, taking it in.

What stood before you was the oldest building you'd seen so far in town, its structure essentially in ruins, ivy crawling up the eroding brick, moss running down it. The only thing that tipped you off to the fact that you weren't being lead to a remote location where no one could hear your screams was a small metal sign above a descending staircase, a single light above the path. By the time the full sight had processed, Philip had since reached the staircase and was watching your reaction with an eyebrow raised, a soft smile gracing his lips.

"You coming?"

You exhaled. "See, I'm not trying to make any accusations, but all I'm saying is that if I were to murder someone in this town, this would be the place for it."

You followed him, though, as he grinned at your hesitance, and what you found at the bottom of the staircase was far from what you'd expected. You entered behind Philip into a sleek but old-fashioned bar, somehow teetering on the line between an antiquated tavern and a nightclub. Your eyes were wide as you scanned the place, empty at the moment, save one person standing behind the bar, wiping down glasses. The chairs were up on the tables, the televisions were shut down -- you assumed Philip hadn't brought you there for drinks, but instead for the handsome stranger who had just caught Philip's eye with a growing grin.

"Philip Hamilton?" he called out the moment the door shut behind us, his disbelieving smile echoed in Philip's reaction. "Never thought I'd see the day. Thought you'd abandoned us all for city living by now."

Philip let out a huff of laughter as he reached the counter, pulling the man in for a hug over the bar. "Whatever, man. I don't wanna hear it." He pulled back with a skeptical look in his eye, holding him by the forearms. "It's been two years since I've been home, but I've never gone three damn months without seeing you since college."

"Touché. It's good to have you back." With that, though, the man's gaze flickered over to you, eyeing your form with an eyebrow raised, a small but triumphant smile. "But you've still managed to keep your lady from me ever since you and her got together. Afraid I was gonna steal her?"

"More afraid she'd meet my friends and immediately run for the hills," Philip snorted, causing the other man to shove him lightly from across the counter.

"Anyway, I take it you're Y/N?" He seemed to be ignoring Philip's jab at him in favor of redirecting the conversation from him.

"That'd be me," you said as you went to join Philip, smile wary and your hands tucked in your pockets.

When you reached the bar, he narrowed his eyes, leaning down to eye you skeptically. "Tell me, how much is Philip paying you? Hm?" Your eyebrows shot up, and he continued, "I mean, we both know he has the money to be battin' above his league, but I didn't think he'd be willing to fork over that much just for a weekend."

While his manner had you hesitant at first, his words made you laugh. If this was what Philip's friends were like, the weekend might go by quicker than you'd expected.

"This is actually pro bono," you sighed, raising your eyebrows as though you were confiding in him. "I've always been a bit of a philanthropist, so I took pity and decided to help out the less fortunate--" You gave Philip a pointed look, though he just rolled his eyes. His entertained smile betrayed his feigned annoyance. "--for a few days."

"You really are a saint."

"I consider myself more of a martyr." While his friend laughed, Philip raised an eyebrow at you, expression toeing the line between amused and exasperated. You extended your hand. "It's great to meet you, though, um..."

"Georges Lafayette," he supplied, shaking your hand. "I'm an old friend."

"Ahh, so that's you," you folded your arms, smile growing. You stole a glance to your right, and Philip was busy feigning shock that you'd actually listened to his friends-and-family crash course. When he met your gaze, you rolled your eyes. "Philip speaks fondly of you, regardless of how he may speak to you." There was a teasing lilt to the tail end of your sentence, and while Philip scoffed, Georges cracked a grin.

"Hope he's been doing me justice." He sent you a wink as he went back to wiping down the rims of the glasses that sat before him, pulling them from the dishwasher and shelving them. "Knowing him, I'm betting it's nothing compared to how he talks about you, though. Ever since you joined his office, it's been nonstop."

"Oh, really?" You raised an eyebrow at Philip, but he didn't meet your eyes as he took a seat next to you at the bar.

"You'd better bet. You've become something of a household name these past few years."

"Should that worry me?" you teased, electing to sit as well. You hopped up onto the barstool.

"Not this time." He chuckled, nudging Philip where he sat, leaning forward on the bar. "Worried me at the start of the whole thing. I figured he'd immediately fucked this up." He motioned between the two of you. "By the time you got together, I'd already found him three eligible rebounds."

"Aww, babe." You plastered on a teasingly contrived pout, turning to rest a hand on Philip's knee, meeting his unimpressed gaze. "Maybe if you hadn't spent three years pawning your responsibilities off on me, I would've been more receptive to your total lack of tact."

Georges laughed, and you grinned unabashedly as Philip let out a huff devoid of annoyance. "Oh, c'mon; let's not pretend I was the tactless one." The corner of his lips twitched as you raised an eyebrow.

"Excuse me?"

"Really, now, be honest." You hadn't the slightest clue where this was going, and Philip looked increasingly satisfied with your expression. "You were the one always yelling at me for leaving early, chewing me out for showing up late, finding excuses to come talk to me--"

"We work together," you interjected, unimpressed. Your words didn't seem to hinder his monologue.

"Now that I think about it, is that why you always looked so agitated when Theo came around?" He raised an eyebrow, looking thoroughly pleased, and you ignored the heat creeping up the back of your neck. You chalked it up to annoyance. “I’ve gotta say, jealousy actually is a good look on you.”

"Whatever," you scoffed. "I had to come to talk to you about the projects I was working on because they were the ones you pawned off onto me. And you know Theo has been obnoxious since day one."

He laughed, disregarding your vexation. "I mean, yeah, but she brings me coffee."

You narrowed your eyes, genuinely in disbelief. "Is the fact that you're just using her for coffee supposed to make me feel better?"

"Of course." He shrugged, as though it was obvious, and you caught Georges's amused expression out of the corner of your eye. Philip winked. "You know I've only got eyes for you, princess." You groaned, turning away from him in your chair, not wanting to look at the satisfaction you caught dancing in his eyes. You didn't like how consoled you felt.

You turned to Georges, deadpan. "Has he always been this unbearable? Or did that develop after the manipulative streak kicked in?"

"In our Philip? What manipulative streak?" He furrowed his brow in contrived disbelief. The two men shared a look, their smiles mirroring one another. "But if you wanna know if he's always been this tactful, then for sure."

It appeared Georges had decided to take Philip's side on this one. You groaned internally. "Don't you start now!"

"Sorry, Y/N, Philip claimed my loyalty years ago. You're on your own."

You pinned the pair of them with an accusatory stare, a smile playing on your lips nonetheless. You didn't love that it was turned against you, but you couldn't help but find their rapport entertaining. "You two are insufferable, you know that?"

"We've heard." Georges shrugged.

"Usually from each other," Philip chimed in.

"Or your siblings." Georges glanced at Philip. Neither of them was addressing you anymore.

"Or your ladies," Philip shot back, "Usually your exes by the time we heard it."

"We were always a little hard of hearing, huh?"

"Always. Think we heard that one from Emilie, though." Philip raised his eyebrows, gaze playful. You could only assume that was one of Georges's exes. He huffed.

"You leave my wife outta this!" Indignant was the only word you could use to describe his expression, and Philip snickered as he ducked away from the rag Georges had tried to hit him with.

"You're still lucky she took you back after that."

"She loved me too much not to." He looked smug with that, but his voice had softened. "Anyway, it's your girl we're talking about this time, so you'd better tread carefully. Right, Y/N?" He looked over at you, an eyebrow raised, obviously expecting you to jump on the chance to tease Philip. You folded your arms.

"Oh, so now you're on my side?"

Philip grinned, obviously pleased with your response, whereas Georges groaned. "Hey, I'm tryna balance the scales back out, alright? Didn't wanna let Philip get too cocky, but it looks like you let that one happen anyway."

"Don't you blame me!" You jabbed your finger at him, eyes narrowed. "You took his side first; I didn't take his side at all!"

"Sure seems like you're on his side now." Georges raised his eyebrows at Philip, who looked positively smug.

"I'm against you now. This isn't about him."

He laughed. "Tough. Looks like your girl's already cutting you out, Pip."

Philip's face fell as he grumbled, "Don't call me--"

"You call him Pip?" You hoped your expression came off as endeared. Blatantly finding ways to antagonize him didn't seem like it would've fit your role. "That's adorable!"

"Y/N." His tone was warning. Your grin didn't falter.

"Oh, can I steal that?"

"All yours."

You let out a soft aww, a hand held to your heart, and put your other hand on Georges's forearm. "I can't thank you enough."

Philip stood with a huff, seemingly having had enough of you two. You raised an eyebrow -- were you leaving already? "I'm gonna run to the bathroom," he said, annoyed gaze never breaking from Georges's. "Don't cause too much trouble while I'm gone."

"I dunno, Pip; I was never the responsible one." Georges shrugged innocently, and Philip couldn't seem to help his amusement at his antics. "Do my best, though."

"Can't thank you enough," Philip mocked you to Georges as he turned, walking off toward the back.

Georges called after him, "You're welcome!"

Philip didn't respond, but Georges seemed more amused given that. He turned to you with a grin, leaning on the bar.

"So, Y/N." You raised an eyebrow. "I need to hear more about you; Philip's been holding out on us all these years. Took the entire family to even convince him to bring you home to meet us."

"Then I guess I shouldn't mention how long it took him to convince me to come here, huh?" The words were truer than he knew; however, he interpreted them very differently from the truth. You raised a playful eyebrow, and he laughed.

"That's tough."

"You asked."

"Sort of," he corrected you, brow furrowed, and you grinned.

"No, but really," you started, deciding to actually explain yourself. "We've just been busy, couldn't find a time to get down here together."

"Oh yeah? Been getting a little too busy down in NYC?" He raised his eyebrows suggestively, and you rolled your eyes with a huff.

"You know I didn't mean it like that!" You swatted at his arm, coaxing a laugh from him. "Our schedules just didn't line up. We never had the same weeks or weekends free to get out of the city."

"So this is your first time traveling together?"

"Guess so."

"Try not to kill him before the weekend's up." He winked. You kept quiet; Georges didn't need to know quite how high the odds of that happening really were. "But really, enough about him. Where are you from? Where'd you go to school? When are you and Philip getting married?"

You ignored the last question altogether, knowing that reacting to it one way or another would only encourage him. "I'm from the west coast. I was born just outside of LA, moved later on to Chicago, and then came to New York City for college."

"Yeah? What made you choose NYC?"

"My ex, actually."

"Oh, really?" He looked surprised at that tidbit of information, and you tried to just shrug it off. "Must've been pretty serious then, huh?"

"It was." He noticed how quiet you went at that, and he didn't press the point, deciding instead to change the subject.

"So Philip must've been a pretty good rebound?" He nudged you, wiggling his eyebrows, and you couldn't help but laugh.

"He..." You paused, considering how you were supposed to respond to that. "He's definitely exceeded expectations, to be perfectly honest."

"Hmm, I dunno how good that sounds, Y/N." He raised a skeptical eyebrow, small smile playing at his lips. "How low, exactly, were your expectations?"

You pursed your lips, but your amusement betrayed you. You hadn't expected to be called out on the truth behind your statement. Your gaze dropped to the bar before you, and you drummed your fingers on the varnished wood. You shrugged. "Not that low."

He let out a snort of laughter. "What an absolutely glowing review. I'll be sure to let him know."

"Hey, don't you betray me like this!"

"I've made it clear where my loyalties lie." He held up his hands in mock surrender. "In all seriousness, though, why were your expectations so low?"

Again, you were unsure of how much to reveal. "Let's just say that Philip isn't much for first impressions."

"Really?" His surprise appeared genuine, before he tilted his head to the side, considering it, and shrugged. "I guess, with you, that shouldn't surprise me."

"What's that supposed to mean?" You folded your arms, needing more information before you could decide whether you were offended. He saw your furrowed brow and grinned.

"I don't mean that as a bad thing. Honest." He paused, considering himself, and you raised an eyebrow, prompting him to continue. He leaned onto the bar, and he spoke matter-of-factly, beginning to explain. "So, Philip's always been good with people. And he's definitely never had any problems with girls. He was in and out of casual relationships all through high school and college just for the hell of it."

Your eyebrows shot up. "Really?" The disbelief in your voice was blatant, and he cracked a smile.

"Yeah, he actually did have some tact, once upon a time. Was a charming kid; I never could figure out how he did it." He shook his head, amusement in his eyes. "But... well, when something matters to him -- or someone -- he goes looking for advice, and everyone else's input just ends up shaking him up. Think I mighta given him advice about you once or twice, so I guess you have me to thank for that."

For a moment, you were stunned. You swallowed, trying not to get too caught up in your head with the information he’d shared, but given its nature, it was hard not to overthink. You tried to match his lighthearted expression. "And what advice would you have given him?"

"Well, five years ago..." He squinted ever-so-slightly as he considered your question. A silent laugh slowly etched itself into his features. "Y'know what, it doesn't matter. Just trust me when I tell you, it was bad advice."

"Georges!"

"Seriously, you don't wanna know." You glared at him, leaning onto the bar where you sat. "I'm sorry to leave you hangin', but I promise, telling you helps no one."

You huffed as you slumped back in your seat. "Are you that bad at relationship advice?"

"Worse than what you're imagining," he assured you, and you shook your head, exasperated.

"How in the world are you married?" The question was a joke, but despite his chuckle, his answer wasn't.

"I think some things are just meant to happen." You raised an eyebrow. He shrugged, wearing a small smile. "Seriously, I was an absolute fool in college -- and I mean that -- but no matter how many times I fucked up with Emilie, she always ended up back in my life. It was usually just coincidence. We were taking the same classes; we had the same advisor; we were on the same subway through town; our dorm rooms were right across from each other.

"And honestly? She kinda hated me at some point, but we kept being thrown together, and we got to know each other pretty well. Call me crazy, but it felt like fate." The distant look in his eyes shifted to something akin to entertainment, after that. "Similar thing happened with Philip, actually."

"Really? When?" You were genuinely invested by that point.

"Junior year of high school." He nodded to himself, thinking back with a grin. "Yeah, that was a hell of a time. Like, one week in, Philip and I had this huge fight. Don't even remember what it was about, but it had us really heated."

"Honestly, I can't imagine you two fighting," you said, and he gave a shrug, his smile agreeable.

"Nah, not anymore, not like that, but we were teenagers," he said, as though that entirely explained it. "But I was only supposed to have one class with him that year, so he tried to switch out of it to get away from me. They ended up having to remake his schedule so he was in every other class with me. Poor kid couldn't escape it, but if it wasn't for some underpaid high-school administrator, we probably wouldn't be friends."

"Sounds like you have a lot of luck," you said, and he grinned.

"That's just it, though." He pinned you with a thoughtful look. "Was it luck, or was it just meant to turn out that way?"

You considered it for a moment. His stories did sound like the longest odds imaginable, but when you thought about your own life, you couldn't help but hope he was delusional. You'd had more than your fair share of bad luck in your life, and once upon a time, it had driven away almost everything you cared about. You didn't like to think that your misery could just have been some cruel twist of fate.

You opened your mouth to respond, uncertain, but Philip had apparently chosen that moment to re-emerge, inadvertently cutting you off.

"Speak of the devil!" Georges called out, his grin wide, and Philip eyed you both skeptically.

"You two are still talking about me?"

Georges glanced at you, and you told him, "I'm hearing all about your high school years."

Philip groaned. "Oh, c'mon man, what are you telling her?"

"We just covered your junior-year mullet and your fez-wearing phase," he informed him, meeting your eyes with a playful smile. "I was just about to fill her in on when you joined the bowling team in our senior year, but--"

"Alright, that's enough outta you." Georges shot you a conspiratory wink as Philip cut him off, though neither you nor Philip could hide your amusement. He, however, tried to play it off as annoyance. "Sounds like we're gonna need to get out of here before you get to the highlights of college."

"Aw, but Pip, I'm learning so much," you pouted, and he looked mildly exasperated as he met your eyes.

"That's what concerns me." Georges laughed while you groaned, and Philip's smile reappeared as he took a seat to your right.

"Then just wait'll I tell her about middle school."

---------------------------------

The rest of your evening was a whirlwind. Having grown up with only an older brother, you hadn't realized quite how many six siblings were -- that changed quickly. You really couldn't believe Angelica had managed to grow up with five brothers without losing her mind. Family dinner stretched on into the night, chaotic to the brink of your comfort zone. You found yourself enjoying it much more than you'd expected to, however. The Hamiltons were as lively as they were numerous, and you couldn't help but laugh along.

"But you were the one who got the room alone!" It took an hour or two, but you'd gotten Philip's siblings' names down. That was James, the younger high-schooler, yelling across the table at Angelica, who made a face.

"I was a seventeen-year-old girl! I couldn't keep sharing a room with my younger brothers!" she shot back, "You scared away three of my boyfriends! Three!"

"You never had to bring them up to our room, but you wanted some alone time with them." It was John, the eleven-year-old, who chimed in this time, making kissy sounds at Angelica who just mocked him.

"I had a right to some privacy!" she shot back. You didn't remember how they'd wandered down this line of discussion, but it seemed to be an impassioned one. Alex Jr. scoffed loudly.

"Hey, I'm seventeen, and I don't have my own room," he interjected, glaring down the table at their dad. "This is a double standard!"

"We have a toddler in the house; grow up," Alex Sr. sighed, which only seemed to further upset Alex Jr.

"Hey, William was Eliza's age when Ang was my age! That's not fair!"

"It doesn't matter; you aren't getting any girls anyway." The sneer came from John.

"Hey, I'm getting plenty--"

"Oh, yeah? Where are they?"

"I haven't brought them home because you can't seem to--"

"Boys! Relax!" Eliza did her best to quell the growing argument, but it seemed to be to little avail. Alex put a hand on her shoulder with a suppressed laugh as she huffed, clearly exasperated.

"Don't make this about me! I'm an incredible roommate!"

"Have you seen our bathroom lately?"

"Come on," Angelica groaned, her annoyance getting lost in the growing cacophony. John was shouting now, leaning over the table at his brother, and you jumped in your seat when James yelled back, deciding it was now his place to join the conversation.

You didn't realize you had grabbed Philip's forearm in your startled fit until he broke your train of thought.

"Alright, princess?"

Your head whipped toward him, surprised to see him leaning in to talk to you, and he looked thoroughly amused by your reaction. You released his arm from your grasp, giving him a sheepish smile. "Your family really is something."

"Believe me now that I was the easy child?" he asked, and you let out a snort of laughter, gaze falling back to his family.

"There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that you were like this ten years ago."

"Hurtful," he scoffed, mocking offense, and you just shrugged, smile growing.

"They had to learn it somewhere."

"It was all Angelica."

"I'm sure."

The woman in question broke the wall of noise at almost exactly that moment, raising her head from her hands. "This is exactly why I needed my own room!" That just turned the younger boys into a united front against her, and she looked to Philip with a sigh. "I'm starting to understand why you waited so long to bring Y/N home."

"No idea what you could be referring to. They're so charismatic!" Philip shrugged, plastering on over-exaggerated confusion, seemingly just to get a rise out of his sister. She rolled her eyes with a groan; it appeared to be working. She turned to you.

"Please don't run for the hills just because our younger brothers are absolute monsters," she said, gaze pleading as she reached for your hand. You smiled, amused despite yourself. "We really need some sanity in this family. I can't take family dinners being just me with six boys."

"Aw, Angie, are you saying I'm not one of the absolute monsters?" Philip interjected with a pout. "I'm touched, really."

You and Angelica both rolled your eyes at his antics. It was then that you decided you liked her.

You leaned over the table toward where her hand was desperately clutching yours. "You've got me for the rest of the weekend, but I'm not sure I can promise more."

She groaned exaggeratedly, and Philip nudged you lightly in the side, grinning mischievously. "What, don't you love my family so far?"

His words were teasing, but your soft smile as you looked back at the people surrounding him was anything but. "I do, actually."

When you met his eyes again, his gaze was softer, grin less pronounced. "Good."

The table had slowly grown quieter throughout your interaction, and it seemed you'd held Philip's gaze for just a moment too long, and you turned to see the entire family watching the two of you. You felt your face heat up, took a sip of your water. From then, there was silence, until a grinning William decided to break it.

He'd been quiet for the majority of the meal, so it surprised you when he turned to you, eyes shining. "So, Y/N," he addressed you, tone businesslike.

"I think we've spent enough time questioning Y/N already," Philip interjected before he could continue, resting a near-protective hand on your arm. You cast him a grateful look.

"C'mon, humor him," James said, his grin matching William's. "It's hardly eight; we have plenty of time."

"We started dinner at five." Philip sounded unamused.

"We haven't spent that whole time interrogating her," he defended, and Philip gave him a pointed look. James turned to you. "Right, Y/N?"

While you sighed playfully, playing up your exasperation, you really didn't mind it. You'd never had a family like this before. "I suppose not."

"Anyway," William interjected, looking as stern as a seven-year-old could. You pursed your lips, fighting back a laugh as you folded your hands and leaned toward him, mirroring his expression. "Y/N."

"William." You did your best to imitate his tone.

"When are you and Pip going to have a baby?"

Your eyes widened immediately, and your mouth fell open in shock, if only for a moment. Philip groaned beside you, leaning back in his chair, and you could hear his parents laughing at the end of the table. Some of his siblings looked exasperated; others waited eagerly for your answer.

"Well, um..." You trailed off as you glanced at Philip desperately, hoping he'd shut his family down so you didn't have to. He hadn't yet seemed to have recovered. Your face was burning as you tried to continue. "We aren't married, so not anytime soon, but--"

"When are you getting married?" William pressed, seemingly unaffected by everyone's reactions to his words. You leaned forward, had to take a sip of your drink to hide your surprised laugh.

"Sorry to say it, but right now, we don't know that we are getting married, so I'll have to get back to you on that question." You gave him an apologetic smile before you looked back at Philip, eyes wide. This was territory you didn't think you'd have to cover. He just shook his head and mouthed, 'I'm sorry.' He appeared wholly exhausted.

"Surely you've talked about it before, though, haven't you?" It was the older Alex who chimed in that time, hesitant. Eliza gave him a look. "I mean, getting married, having kids and all that. You've been together for two years; you must have considered it at some point."

"Pops," Philip said through gritted teeth, the word carrying an unsaid warning.

"What? I'm just curious," he defended, despite Eliza swatting his shoulder. He raised his hands in mock surrender as he glanced at her, eyes wide. "If you haven't, it's fine. I don't mean to rush you kids into anything, but I just wanted to know."

By then, though she sighed, you could see Eliza looking at the two of you hopefully. The whole table fell silent, expecting an answer you didn't have. "It's just... not something we've taken into consideration at this point. We aren't really set on making decisions about that anytime soon."

"Do you want kids, though?" Angelica asked you, and Philip sighed. Like you, he'd hoped the topic would fall away after your weak explanation. You hesitated, not sure whether giving them a legitimate answer would only egg them on. Ultimately, you shrugged.

"I mean, personally? Yeah, probably at some point," you offered, playing nervously with the edge of your napkin. You didn't want to look at Philip. "The whole 'settling down and starting a family' thing is something I've kind of always pictured"

"Is it more appealing now that you see how great having a big family is for us?" Alex Jr. asked, words saturated with sarcasm. You laughed as he grinned exaggeratedly, gesturing to everyone down the table.

"I know you're joking and all, but I really wouldn't mind this being my day-by-day."

"Really?" Philip chose that moment to finally interject, an eyebrow raised, and you nodded, feeling suddenly defensive.

"I mean, yeah." You shrugged, shoulders tense. "What, wouldn't you?"

"I would.” His lips quirked as he sat forward in his chair once again. “But, honestly, I didn’t think this was your style.”

"I'm not totally set on anything, but..." You didn't elaborate further. Confessing to him the future you wanted had you feeling uncomfortably vulnerable. His smile was soft as he faintly nodded, eyes crinkling at the corners.

There was a pregnant pause before Alex Sr. spoke.

"I guess now you've talked about it."

------------------------------------

Dinner ended much later than it needed to, and afterward, they just herded you into their living room. It seemed that now since they all had you in front of them, they were going to take advantage of the opportunity to ask you anything and everything about yourself and your love life (with a focus on Philip, of course). You did your best to field the seemingly endless barrage of questions, and though it took you a while, you finally figured out how to deflect the more uncomfortable ones onto Philip. It wasn't until you yawned -- rather loudly, too -- that the conversation reached any sort of stopping point.

"Tired, princess?" Philip wrapped an arm around your waist, lightly squeezing your side, and you sighed, not having enough energy to push back on the pet name.

"Little bit," you mumbled, a weary smile still adorning your lips. He chuckled, and you couldn't help but lean into his embrace, feeling more drained than anything, and rested your head on his shoulder.

"You two should head up and get some sleep," Eliza said. The look in her eyes as you met her gaze was affectionate. You didn't notice your smile growing.

"I second that. You look exhausted, Y/N," Alex added, looking to you and Philip sympathetically.

You chuckled at that, and you couldn't help the lazy sarcasm that leaked into your voice as you responded, "Thanks, Mr. Hamilton; glad to hear it."

"Alex," he corrected you, his smile kind. He didn't seem to take any offense at your tone; instead, amusement danced in his eyes, and you nodded, matching his expression.

"Alex."

You couldn't decide whether the warm feeling in your chest as you bid everyone goodnight, letting Philip lead you to the stairs, was the result of your fatigue, the merlot Eliza had offered you around seven (and then three more times in the hours that followed), or if it just came from being around his family. It had to be some combination of the three, but you had a sneaking suspicion it leaned mainly toward the latter.

The two of you walked in easy silence, you still reminiscing on everything that had happened that day, everyone you'd met, and you didn't notice Philip watching you as you hung onto the railing to your left. You weren't in any sort of headspace for vigilant observation. Instead, you were fixated fondly on his family. It was never an environment you'd been in, so rowdy and energetic, but tender and caring all the while. You'd been dreading this weekend -- seriously, you spent about an hour on the drive down drowning out Philip's soliloquy, spaced out and wondering whether it was too late to just turn around and dump him off on the side of the road. (Patsy wouldn't have even questioned it when you arrived home.) The past however-many-hours, though, almost since you'd just woken up, had you questioning a number of assumptions you'd made, and not just about the family reunion.

You stumbled over one of the last stairs as you lost yourself in your train of thought. Your eyes snapped wide open; your grip on the railing tightened. Just as you felt yourself beginning to tip backward, you found yourself in Philip's arms, his grip on your waist steadying you as he looked down at you, amused.

"You alright?" The air hadn't yet returned to your lungs; your pseudo-crisis must have begun and ended in under a second, and you stared up at him blankly. You blinked, just beginning to process your surroundings.

Catching your breath was more of a struggle than it should've been, however. All you could discern was the feeling of his fingertips pressing into your skin, the feeling of his breath on your neck as he looked down at you. You weren't even that close together, but clinging to his arms for what seemed like dear life had you feeling mildly defenseless. You couldn't miss the growing concern in his eyes.

"Yeah," you breathed as you realized you'd let the silence stretch on too long, long enough for Philip to question it. Being tired (and gravitating toward wine-tipsy) must have just heightened the panic in your system, must have slowed your reaction time. Another beat passed, and you finally pulled yourself upright, taking a deep breath as you continued up the last couple of stairs and down the hallway. Philip's concern didn't dissipate as he came up after you, but your mind was elsewhere.

You had to promise yourself to keep from drinking the next day, feeling exasperated with yourself as you couldn't seem to collect your thoughts. He caught up to you as you entered his room, and pulled the door shut behind him with an eyebrow raised. You didn't see him watching you, a silent question in his gaze, as you dragged yourself over to your suitcase.

You turned around after pulling your pajamas out and froze when you met his eyes. "What?"

He pursed his lips. "You sure you're okay?"

"Of course," you reassured him, giving a weary smile. "I'm just tired; don't worry."

You didn't let yourself ponder any longer, and though you could see your answer hadn't quite appeased him, you ignored it. The room was quiet as you both picked through your suitcases, brushed past each other entering and exiting the bathroom. You were both more than ready to get some sleep.

Just before you were about to climb into bed, you paused, unable to help your drifting gaze. Philip was still in the adjacent bathroom, brushing his teeth, and you glanced back at him. Considering the circumstances, briefly vetting his room felt like fair game.

Your eyes scanned the walls, noting the different posters he still had hung up, appearing to all be from different times in his life -- some were much more worn than others, and you couldn't imagine he'd been anxiously awaiting the new Scooby-Doo movie anytime recently. You wandered over to the desk, the corners of your mouth twitching up into a small smile as you noticed the books and pictures stacked high on the surface. Your fingertips brushed against one photo, and your gaze fell to it, seeing Philip and three other people all in party hats, their celebration frozen in time.

You could hear his footsteps stall behind you as you poked into his belongings, but it didn't discourage you.

"When's this from?" you asked, turning to him with the polaroid you'd uncovered. He chuckled as he walked over, plucking the picture from your hand.

"Eighteenth birthday party," he said, eyes crinkling at the corners as he eyed the photograph. He turned his gaze back to you with a small smile. "You're actually gonna meet all the people in this photo this weekend, assuming they all show up."

You raised an eyebrow, stifling a yawn as you took a seat on the perfectly made bed a few feet in front of him. "What, couldn't get anyone but family to celebrate your eighteenth with you?"

"Hardly." He hummed, ignoring the aim behind the insult. "My dad lost most of his family when he was young, though, so while you'll meet all of Mom's family this weekend, Pop's is all just his friends who he's adopted into the family, and then their families. These three are his friends' kids who I grew up with," he said, motioning again to the photograph.

"That's sweet," you said softly, pushing yourself further up the bed, hugging your knees to your chest.

"Hmm?"

"That your dad chose this entirely new family, I mean." He shrugged, walking over to join you on the bed.

"Yeah, I guess so," he said, "Never really thought much of it, I guess." He paused, eyeing you with a raised eyebrow where you sat. "What's your family like? You don't talk about them much."

You pursed your lips. "Small."

"Yeah?" He took a seat next to you after pulling himself onto the bed. Your skin jumped as the outside of his thigh rested against yours, his hip less than an inch away, and you could feel his body heat radiating off of him. You nodded, swallowing hard as a soft smile grew on your lips.

"Just me, my parents and my brother."

"That's it?" He looked surprised at your explanation, and you just shrugged. "What about cousins, grandparents, aunts, uncles?"

"Two aunts, no grandparents, no cousins."

"Really," he sighed, seemingly still in disbelief. A teasing grin worked its way onto his face as he elbowed you lightly. "So I won't be going to any family reunions in the L/N household anytime soon, then, huh?"

You laughed despite yourself. "Doesn't look like it. The closest we ever get is when my brother and I are together in NYC and Mom and Dad drive up to meet us for a couple days. Not much of a production."

"Sounds nice, though." His grin had grown by then as he looked over at you, leaning back to meet you where you sat. By then, he was sitting angled toward you with his legs crossed, reclining back on his hands. You shifted, and the hand behind you brushed against his. "Next time the L/Ns get together in New York, though, I'd better be invited. Quid pro quo, princess."

"Oh, of course," you replied jokingly, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Might be a little quieter than what you're used to, though."

He rolled his eyes. "At least you're letting me know ahead of time." You shifted to turn yourself toward him, again finding him only inches from you. He looked as surprised as you did, but neither of you moved, and he continued, tone light. "Speaking of, sorry for not warning you about how... chaotic my family gets. It's been a while since I've been with them all at once, and I forgot to consider that this isn't how everyone's families work."

You chuckled, your smile growing. "No, don't apologize. They're sweet."

"Not the word that comes to mind." He pursed his lips, looking down at you skeptically. You rolled your eyes, but he couldn't have missed the mirth in your expression. "Then again, considering that, it's no wonder you get along with them."

Your jaw dropped in mock outrage. "What's that supposed to mean?!"

He shrugged, feigning innocence despite his smirk. "Nothing much. Just that I'm glad you feel at home with my family."

You huffed out a laugh, pulling yourself up to jab a finger in his chest. "Now don't you dare even pretend that wasn't an insult!"

"I don't know what you're talking about." His grin didn't waver.

"Oh, don't play dumb," you scoffed. You both knew the fury in your voice was contrived, and his amusement seemed to grow. "We both know what you meant."

"Oh, yeah?" He pushed back on you, leaning in against your hand, an eyebrow raised. "What'd I mean, princess?"

"I said don't pretend," you warned him. He was looking increasingly smug the more indignant you became, and you narrowed your eyes.

"Who said I was?

"I'm not stupid." You raised your eyebrows.

"'Course not." He mocked your expression. "So you must already know I would never mean anything other than praise by that, huh?"

You rolled your eyes with a groan, having had about enough, despite the smile you were failing to stifle. He laughed, and you reached out to shove him away by the chest, but just as you did, he tried to grab your wrist, eyebrows raised.

He was too late.

As he grabbed your wrist, you couldn't pull back to where you were sitting, and your eyes widened as you lost your balance. Your momentum turned what would've hardly tipped him over into a much more forceful push, and you sent him falling backward, his legs unfolding as he tried to catch himself, with you, in turn, collapsing forward with a yelp. You ended up on top of him, one hand still held to his chest, the other beside his head, and you knelt straddling his waist. Both of you had wide eyes as you realized the position you were in, nose-to-nose, and your breath caught in the back of your throat.

He was the first to speak, eyes shining, his voice low. "Y'know, this wasn't quite what I had in mind when I asked you to come home with me for the weekend."

However, you were still stunned into silence, hyper-aware of any movement either of you made. You had to focus on your breathing in an effort to calm your pounding heart. (With your hand on his chest, you could tell you weren't the only one.)

You felt your hair brushing against your cheek as it fell forward, draped beside your head over Philip. It must have been subconscious when you found yourself leaning in further yet, must have been instinct based on the situation. Nonetheless, when you did, the side of your nose brushed against his, and you felt his heartbeat quicken, saw his eyes widen.

You paused when you must have been less than an inch above him.

"Y/N," he murmured, voice cautious as his free hand found its way up to your waist. You stalled, though, for another moment, shivering when you felt his breath fan across your lips. He was all but immobile beneath you, too apprehensive to make any move one way or another.

The anticipation in his eyes only heightened with each passing second.

It was then that you pushed yourself off of him, blinking hard, and you couldn't decide whether you had lost your nerve or regained your sense. You swallowed, took a deep breath. "Sorry, I... I didn't mean to, um--" You cut yourself off. What in the world were you thinking? The question arose in your mind desperately as you scrambled further back, further from him. Your face was burning. "I wasn't--"

"You're ok," he said softly, giving you a reassuring (yet, slightly worried) smile. You didn't meet his gaze. "It was a mistake." You were so lost in your own train of thought that you didn't notice when Philip finally stood, walked to the empty side of the bed to join you.

"We should get some sleep," he said, turning on the lamp beside him, and you nodded. The past few minutes had you spiraling. All his actions were hesitant; had you scared him? You didn't mean to end up in that position. He knew it was just a mishap, right? Did you know that it was?

He stood briefly to hit the light, and you crawled under one side of the covers. After a moment, he joined you. Neither of you knew quite what to say next.

"G'night, princess," he finally murmured, voice as wary as it was soft as you curled into the sheets, and he pulled them over himself alongside you. You closed your eyes in an effort to forget that you were still facing him, shifted over to give him space. Your calf brushed against his knee, but you didn't pull away.

When you heard the lamp turn off, you finally spoke again. "Night, Pip."

The room was completely silent after that, but neither of you was at rest. You lay with your eyes tightly shut, your thoughts running a mile a minute as you willed yourself to stop replaying one specific moment on a loop.

You didn't realize your brow was furrowed, but Philip did, watching you for just a moment longer with smiling eyes.

The bed was just a little bit warmer that night.

[deceitfullyanxioussss]

Must Have Been the Wind

Hey guys! I kinda already posted this on my ao3 a few months ago and just realized I forgot to post it here as well so like, here you go I guess lmao

Summary: Remus goes back to his apartment and wants a nap after a bad day at work. Instead, he finds he is kept up by some very troubling sounds coming from the room above his.Remus decides he wants to help this stranger.

Song fic! Must Have Been the Wind - Alec Benjamin

CW: Cursing, and uh, Remus being Remus ig? Oh, and minor homophobic character (Lemme know if I need to add more)

Proof-read by @queroze, thank you again, even though this was a while ago lol

Remus let out a huff of breath, feeling his tense muscles relax as he practically melded into the couch. The plan was for him to catch a nice nap after his exhausting day at work.

   He was a barista at a coffee shop, which usually wasn’t too bad. He liked his job. Often, he even found it relaxing.

   However, there can be days that are just the exact opposite of relaxing.

   It seemed as though every customer he came across that day woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Oh, and don’t even get him started on the Karens. The Karens were nearly impossible to deal with.

   A frown slipped on his face, recounting the worst part of his day. There was a very verbal homophobe who came in today.

   Remus was very openly gay and always wore a pride pin on his apron next to his name. He had the unfortunate luck of having to take, and make his order. He probably had to stand there for a full 5 minutes, just listening to his lecture about how wrong gay sex is. Remus was able to shut him up by reminding him of the line behind him.

   It didn’t end there though.

   A lesbian couple walked in not long later, hand in hand. It didn’t take long for it to catch the attention of this man, who immediately jumped at the chance to pull another 500 slide PowerPoint out of his ass.

   The rest of his co-workers decided that he had to be ushered out of the shop. Nothing about getting him to leave was easy though, not in the slightest. He went out yelling and cursing the whole way.

    The two girls were very lovely though, they had a nice conversation about the upcoming pride event, and he was more than happy to give them both free refills on him.

    So he guessed the day wasn’t all bad, but it still seemed to drag him out as if he was dough under a roller, crunching off of his bones into powder and flattening all his veins against his skin.

     Yes, a nap seems like a good idea.

     Remus’s eyes fluttered closed, fatigue quickly overtaking his body.

   Just then, a sharp, yet muffled noise cut through the serenity of silence.

   Some barely-conscious part of his mind gained interest in this sound.

   What was that? It kind of sounded like glass.  It had murmured through its TV static atmosphere.

   The rest of his mind, nearly completely asleep, wordlessly communicated that it was probably nothing, and he should just focus on sleeping.

   That seemed to calm his brain enough to settle down.

There was a little sliver of his mind that wasn’t quite ready to let go of the sound yet, though. It kept listening, even if undetected by the rest of the brain. It seemed right to do so, as muffled sounds of yelling and sobbing registered through its cloudy state.

   It was then Remus blearily pried his eyelids open and sat up.

   The fuck?  Remus groaned internally, forcing his body into an acceptable sitting position. Confusion stuck onto his brain like wrinkled cling wrap as he tried to make any sense of the hazy world around him.

   A loud thud was heard from the floor above, followed by an emotionally drained cry.

   Remus grunted and rubbed his eyes in exhaustion.

   For maybe just a split second, his heart felt sympathy for the person, but he was just so tired. It’s not like it was his problem, right? He could just ignore it and go back to sleep.

   He flipped over on his side so his head faced the back of his sickly green couch and closed his eyes, trying his best to draw his attention away from the sounds upstairs.

   He must have laid there for a good while, trying and failing to push the sounds to the back of his head, his anxiety amping up little by little the longer the crying persisted.

   Eventually, Remus let out a loud, guttural sigh and stood up swiftly. He couldn’t just ignore them, he had to help.

   Making the decision, he walked towards his coat-rack and hastily tossed his jacket over his shoulders, bee-lining to the elevator.

   He silently curses the elevator for being so slow as he restlessly waited for the doors to push open, and when they do he wasted no time getting in and selecting floor 2.

   Remus usually enjoyed the tacky elevator music, but he found it only served to tick him off this time around. The music seemed to drag time out even slower and he was already so, so restless.

   Ding.

   With that, he stepped out and eagerly trodded down the hallways, stopping in front of the desired location. He raised a hand and knocked on the door with little hesitation, the anxious tapping of his foot echoed within the empty halls.

   Remus listened with rapt attention through the door, hearing as the person inside scrambled to make themself look even the slightest bit presentable.

   He waited impatiently, his gaze anxiously wandering around for some sort of distraction or stimulation. They landed on the grossly patterned navy blue carpet, look completed by the numerous stains that have accumulated over the years. Finding little interest there, he moved onto the walls. The dim, sparse lighting made the colour look like a shit brown. Impulsively, he reached to run his fingers along the many indents that found a home among the distasteful brown. The tactile stimulation instantly captured his focus, and he let the rough surface soothe him.

   Remus, too caught up in the stimulation, had forgotten his original purpose of being there. He startled back to reality upon hearing the soft click from the door. He immediately snapped his head back up, being met with a pair of mismatched eyes and a scarred face. This person was looking up at him with what he thought was supposed to be a confident expression. The effect was dampened by his pink-ish eyes, mussed hair, and the pastel yellow sweater he had hooked all the way up to his chin.

   Remus gave the other a small wave, just then realizing he had no game plan. Did he just… ask? Did he make small talk first? Should he invite him to his coffee shop for a drink and talk there?

   The other reciprocated the wave, smirking. “How may I help you, sir?” He asked politely

   Remus cleared his throat, deciding he should just be direct with this conversation. He was never really good at softening his approach anyway.

   “Hey, so, basically I heard something shatter and a lot of crying and yelling and I was kinda concerned about it, so I came to ask if you were ok.”

   The two men stared at each other for a few seconds before Remus spoke up again. “So, are you ok?”

   He heard the other snicker quietly, a gloved hand waving as if to dismiss the question. “Oh, my. That’s ridiculous. Your ears must be playing tricks on you, my dear.”

   Remus took notice of how he subtly buried his face deeper into the sweater.

   His attention was brought back up as the scarred man spoke again.

   “Thank you for caring, sir, it’s very kind of you, but I have some urgent work to get back to. I wish I could tell you about the noise, but I'm afraid I didn’t hear a thing.” He shook his head. “Perhaps it was merely a harsh gust of wind.” He suggested.

   Remus let out a quiet sigh, but nodded and accepted the answer.

   The two waved each other farewell as Remus trudged back to the elevator.

Remus had been laying down, back pressed hard against the cold concrete of the floor. The chill from beneath seeped in through his spine and into his chest, weighing him down heavily. He just couldn’t stop thinking about his upstairs neighbor.

   It had been hours since his last visit already, and the man upstairs was still pacing across his apartment, occasionally he would stop and silence would follow. The pacing always started back up though.

   Absent-mindedly, his hands fiddled with the necklace around his neck, running his fingers across the cool, smooth metal.

   He just couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, and he wanted to help.

   Remus knew that he didn’t have all the facts, and he didn’t really want to intrude on the man’s life. There was a possibility that nothing was wrong, and he was  just imagining things. He didn’t want to pester his neighbor with his stupid, false worries.

   But what if something is wrong?   You saw his puffy eyes. You know you heard those sounds.  His mind kept telling him.  You can’t just leave him alone, can you?

   Remus nodded to himself and for the second time that day, stood and made his way back to the other’s door. More hesitantly this time, he knocked. His raps were slow and unsure as he swayed nervously from side-to-side.

   He heard the pacing stop, and he waited, his focus on nothing but his shoes this time around. Then he heard footsteps approach the door and he looked up just as the door swung open.

   He was met with the same mismatched eyes, messy hair, and sweater. He didn't forget to take note of the new eye bags and odor he’s sporting with him though.

   “Oh, it’s you again.” the nervousness of his neighbor's voice managed to carry through despite the fabric covering his mouth.

   Remus ran a hand through his hair and looked to the side. “Yeah.” he chuckled unsurely.

   “I just- I’m still worried,” he said, smile falling. “I know you said you were fine, but… I just felt the need to check again. It’s- those sounds- they’re not leaving me alone.” he tentatively looked up into the other’s eyes. “Are- Are you sure you’re ok?”

   Remus is pretty sure he saw the scarred side of his face twitch, probably in annoyance he’s sure. He knew it was a bad idea to come back up. He was always such a bother, even to his own family. What made him think a stranger would appreciate seeing his face twice in one day?

   “Yes.” the answer cut through Remus’s thoughts and redirected his attention. “I am absolutely positive that everything’s fine.” There was a hint of irritation that Remus desperately wished he didn’t hear.

   “Once again, thank you for caring, it’s very kind. Truly. But I really do have some urgent work to get back to. I wish I could help you with the noise, but I didn’t hear a thing. In fact, I’m almost certain it was just the wind. You need to stop worrying so much over such a trivial thing.”

   Remus’s body became hot with shame as he shrunk in on himself. He nodded at the man before he sluggishly made his way back.

The following morning, he didn’t even bother with breakfast. Immediately going over to slouch on his couch, he stared back up at the ceiling. It seemed to be a new favourite hobby of his apparently.

   He had a lot of time to think about the previous night, about his last interaction with the man upstairs.

    There was no way those sounds were from his imagination. He was in a groggy state when he heard the yelling, sure, but surely the pacing wasn't something his ears made up. Surely, the messy hair and puffy eyes weren't something his eyes made up.

   His mind carefully brought up the idea of confronting him again, but he quickly winced and scrapped the idea. The irritated voice of the other causing his gut to lurch in a nauseating way.

   He was most certainly not going to be looking him in the eyes for a good while now.

   He was starting to break through the surface though, right? Maybe he should just call it quits and admit that he can't help.

   He couldn't just go back up again, he didn't think he could take the ice-cold, biting irritation again.

   Remus sat, rolling the interactions over in his head. Whoever said anything about a letter?  A lightbulb sparked, setting an explosion through his body that jolted him up from his seat with a gasp.

   "A letter! That's so simple! I don't have to face him again, and he doesn't have to feel as much pressure! I'm a fucking genius!" He yelled, pumping his fists into the air with triumphant gusto.

He rushed over to his desk, brimming with excitement as he began to write.

   In Remus's very distinct, messily scrawled printing, he began:

   Sup Mr Scarface! (I haven't even thought to ask your name yet lmao)

   Listen up nerd! I  promise  I'm not playing tricks on you when I say this

   You’re  always  welcome to come in

   You could stay here for an hour or two if you ever need a friend. We can talk about the noise when you’re ready

   But… til then I’ll say it must have been the wind.

   Yours sincerely, annoying dude from yesterday ;)

   Remus let out a long, pleased sigh as he gave it a quick once-over. He saw many mistakes, but he gave them not even a second glance before he was already out of the door.

   He was going to deliver this letter and it was going to be wonderful!

Remus shucked his jacket off and onto his coat-rack upon returning from work the following day. It had been a pretty good day today. No awful homophobes, that's for sure.

   Turning his T.V. on for background noise, he moved over to his miniature kitchen. Distantly aware of a news reporter talking about some murder, he got started on his rice and gravy.

   Perhaps 10 minutes passed by when he heard a gentle rapping on the front door.

   Remus curiously strode over and opened his door, surprised to see the man from upstairs in front of him.

   "Oh, wow. Hey there, dude! Didn't expect to actually see ya this soon!" Remus exclaims.

   "I, uh, yeah…" the scarred man shifted in place for a few moments, burying his face into his sweater. "If the, uh, offer is still open, I’d love to have someone to talk to,” he mumbled through the thick fabric.

   Remus stood and processed the words for a few seconds before grinning widely.

   "Of course! Of course! Come on in, my man! Lunch will be done in a bit if you want some!”

   The other smiled and shyly slunk into his apartment

   "I’d love that.” He said. “Thank you.”

   "Not a problem at all! My name's Remus by the way!" He excitedly extended a hand for the other to shake.

   Said man looked at his hand for a moment or two before carefully clasping his own around it.

   Even more carefully, his shy voice spilled a simple name. "...Janus."

[nyanzaya]

Ok so I had a REALLY weird dream recently so I’ll send this first ask as like the set up because it’s rlly long. 1/2?

(This involves Neko!Izaya so I thought you’d like to hear about it first) So background information first; for some reason I’m like “piloting” Izayas body. I’m making his decisions sort of??? I only found out when I walked past a mirror and everyone kept referring to me as Izaya (Prolly because I lined him back in middle school lol) and the fact that the other characters CLEARLY did not like the fact that I was still breathing. There’s a lot to unpack so I’m gonna be formatting this in a bulletin point way that’s in chronological order.

- So Izaya and a BUNCH of other DRRR!!characters are staying in this weird group of cabins in the shape of an upside down U, with a road heading into town. Starts off as a dirt/gravel road that goes into pavement. You know the ones.

- So Izaya/I am staying in this cabin building at the very end of the U on the left side. (Since this U kinda warps around the road into town) Across the road is one of the main “Bathrooms”. It’s got the showers while each cabin has like one of its own bathrooms. (This has meaning I promise)

- Within the cabin Izaya/I am staying in there’s at least three rooms. Shinra was in the next door over, while Shingen was in the room at the end of the hall. I saw him go back there once and never saw him a again for the duration of the dream. (So we’ll just call this the Kishitani cabin)

- The bathrooms across the road from The Kishitani cabin is shared with the neighboring cabin. The neighboring cabin was MUCH bigger but also had more people in it. So there was two to a room there, while in The Kishitani cabin we each got our own room. (Which when I first found this out the first thing that came to mind was “what a bunch of losers” lol)

- Shizuo Heiwajima was a resident in the neighboring cabin. Which means we have to share a bathroom w/ him :) (this is actually very unfortunate later on) His cabin contains the Van Gang (didn’t see a lot of them only glimpses), as well as Namie, her brother, and his gf Mika. I had a feeling that Namie was supposed to be staying in the Kishitani cabin, but left because,,,,, brother,,, ig)

- Nobody knows about Neko!Izaya yet, only Shinra and Shingen. And Izaya is hiding as a human VERY well (for now). We get kinda Fucked Up™️ later on too.

A finishing side note for now is that the weather outside is fucking FREEZING. There’s snow and ice slush everywhere, and the air is that really dry cold that burns your nose and lungs when you breathe. There would also be these gusts of really cold wind that would freeze the sides of the pine trees, so there wasn’t snow on TOP of them bist there was snow plastered to the SIDE of them. So right now we’re stuck in cold winter hellscape. Also I don’t know where Celty is, but Shinra had left to “go handle something” or whatever so he was gone for a good portion of time too.

Part 2/4? (This is way longer than expected.)

Mornings sucked because if you left the cabin you would almost definitely start freezing to death. Considering that, We just poked around our room for a bit and found nothing of interest. So it’s around midday now which means that the sun is out in full force and the outside is somewhat bearable, so why not go exploring right?? It can’t possibly lead to something catastrophic that would eventually put us at the brink of death.

- First place we go is to the “Bathrooms” across the little dirt road. As soon as we step through the door you just KNOW that Shizuo had been there previously and he was Mad™️. There was glass all over the floor from one of the broken shower doors, and it looked like someone did a very half asses job at cleaning up said glass.

- Enter: Namie. She apparently had the same idea and was wandering through the showers section of the Bathrooms as well, she had at least one other girl with her but I don’t remember who it was. Namie was also “talking” to me but it was more of just her trying to bicker. Clearly not liking that we had the same idea. So I eventually leave and go back to my cabin. I just remember wanting to avoid the other characters, because avoiding them meant avoiding unwanted conflict.

- I want to say this is the first night in this cabin, but at the same time it was like this had been playing out long before my weird dream had even started. So this is probably like the third or fourth night, and we were clearly avoiding a conflict that I was not present for.

- Middle of the night We hear thumping from down the hallway that works it’s way to my bedroom door. I initially think it’s Shinra walking around but that thought is quickly snuffed out.

- The man who opened the bedroom door was tall as hell and was clearly here for us. The man is having a hard time holding himself together, literally. Eventually his human persona wears off and we’re left having a showdown between us and this man made of GLASS. And this glass is SHARP. While trying to fight off the faceless glass demon/general asshole we “die”, he got the better of us and stabs us through the hand and a few other places. I just remember the hand being the most memorable. Close quarters combat with him is not the way to play this.

- We come to about a kilometer out from the U of cabins, at night, in the freezing cold, buried in the snow like a shallow grave, and still bleeding. Between the gusts of wind you could hear something moving around, and so we knew we had to get back inside STAT.

- Now at this point in time there was no need to keep up the human disguise, so we just didn’t. Enter: Neko!Izaya

Part ¾

We get back to the cabin and the room is a disaster. The bed is skewed and the suitcase of stuff I had is nowhere to be seen. The floorboards are cracked too, and we can see something shining under them.

- We pull back the floorboards, or at least what’s left of them, and pull up a giant steel box. In said box was a pair of thick leather gloves, with sharp nails on the end, a note, and a small map of the region we were in. On the small map was several other little squares which I assumed would be more boxes like the one we just found. (The gloves also helped keep our hands from freezing up which was nice)

- The front door and our bedroom door were broken and would no longer lock so there was no point in staying. No one else seemed to be around either so we just assumed that we were in this alone and needed to kill this thing before it killed us, and maybe someone else. (I also think Izayas sisters were there at the cabins, because I remember that being a pretty motivating factor.)

- After a lot of running we come across some buildings and fences, which looked like a Zoo. Zoos need caretakers, and caretakers were people, and people meant help. So we get onto one of the main roads of the “Zoo” and immediately something is wrong.

- Dawn is breaking and there is still no one in sight. On top of that none of the animals look right. Everything was very much uncanny valley. None of the animals looked like animals, and they were all hyper aggressive. Even the ones that seemed like they were supposed to be harmless.

- So far there seems to be no signs of people, but the farther back we get to the more restricted looking areas, the more signs of human life. There’s crates and Jeep’s, and we even found someone working on a computer in a big open tent. Although when we approached her, she didn’t really respond.

- So we leave again and follow a road into town. Once the town was in sight (think old European style town), the glass man was back chasing us in full force. And it seemed that as long as he was being touched by direct sunlight, he would appear as human.

- Getting to the town and there are people EVERYWHERE. Townspeople walking in and out of shops, driving down the road, and just going about their business in general. It was comforting but also concerning considering that we were still being chased but this glass man who for some reason is targeting us.

Part 4/4 (another long part)

I figured that if I could lose him within the town then I should be home free. Unfortunately wherever I managed to parkour to, he would already be waiting nearby. And If we stopped moving then we’d get attacked again.

- He would make snide comments every time he would cut us off within the town, although after the first few times I stopped listening to what he was saying, and I think this might have pissed him off.

- Eventually we had gotten into this other building which was definitely upper class or something, if you were to judge it by the decor and the sheer size of it. One of the hallway walls had a HUGE painting of this Neko mother surrounded by her little kids. The painting was clearly very old, and I wasn’t expecting to see anything like that.

- In this house we found three more of those Steel boxes. One with a black trench coat lined with wool, and there was a picture of another Neko in the box that was wearing the same coat. On the picture it said something along the lines of “to whoever receives this coat, let it warm and shield you from the night”, something weird like that. Each box that had something in it also had a picture too. Which was interesting, since each time it was always of a different Neko. Anyway I got like some sort of undercoat and I think a thicker pair of pants.

- Obviously we had been found again and were forced to flee to the edge of town. There was a old rickety building that we ran into, and were then cornered in.

- At this point we had to fight him, and as it turns out as long as he is taking human form (in direct sunlight via the giant skylight in the main room) you could do a lot of damage to him. I didn’t want to get too close to him do at one point I had taken an old coffee table and hit him w that, since it wasn’t that heavy.

- The gloves were helpful when we had to use the nails and dig under the guys false skin to tear some of the glass out. The less glass chunks he had in him, the less mass he had and the less damage he could do.

- Once we had whittled him down to almost a skeleton of what he was before, we reached into where his face used to be and pulled out the one piece of glass that wasn’t the same as the others. It was 100% clear and had this weird glittery purple and orange in the middle of it.

- While trying to leave the building we ran into this old man who I guess was working in a facility below the building, who was coming up to see what the commotion was about. He also took the weird glass/rock from us

- That’s how we found out that those weird looking rocks had come down in a meteor shower a few months ago, and that you’re not supposed to put them inside of your house. This is apparently because he cold of the outside keeps them sedated almost. So when you bring them inside they’ll latch on to any sort of free floating objects to create a body for themselves. Which is why when someone put it in the main bathroom where all of the broken glass was, it was able it create a much stronger body.

- Afterwards he, or someone else, had given me a ride to just outside of the cabins we were staying in. It was starting to get dark but it wasn’t getting colder yet, so everyone seemed to be out and about. I saw Kyohei walking back to his cabin so I ran up to him and grabbed him to tell him not to let anyone touch anything outside, and to especially not bring anything else inside. Which I probably sounded crazy but he just went with it.

- During that time I got to talk to the other characters, only for a little bit though. I tried talking to Shizuo but every time I did he would clam up and ignore me. Which fair enough I guess, since very few people got along with me and I had disappeared for the past 24 hours.

- Afterwards it had started to hail, and that was around the time I decided to leave the camp and try and go home. Just to get anywhere else but there. When it stopped I took one of the trucks and drove until I reached a highway, which was very far out. When I went to merge though, the on ramp wasn’t connected to the actual highway. It was like it was never completed and there was a drop off straight down into a canyon. I just sat there in the truck for a bit and watched the other cars driving back and forth across the bridge over the canyon.

- The ramp was only one lane so I and to reverse all the way back to the road, and then back to the 7/11 I had previously passed, so hopefully I could make a phone call to get out of there. Though the dream ended before we got the chance to do that.

I’m sure that there is a lot missing considering that it’s rare for me to remember dreams in the first place. I’m also sure that Shingen had something to do with us being in that location during that time of year. But I hope you found some entertainment in this weird dream that will probably haunt me for a while. Love your blog btw and I hope you keep posting!

——-

I’m in the middle of traveling right now! But omf thank you for sharing this I cry,,, also sorry everyone I don’t know how to make a read more on mobile 😭

This is actually a super interesting dream I wonder what it means tbh LOL what has me is the Neko part I weep softly. This kind of explains why my muse for Iza(Neko!izaya) has been a little low, like it felt like he wasn’t “with me” if that makes sense!

The coat and the pictures I’m hhrhrh…. It’s super funny to me because it kind of falls in line for Iza’s mom and her kits with that picture of a mother Neko and her kids because that was all I could think of but still! This is such a sweet story in a exploratorive way and a interesting lore perspective because those pictures and items were left there by someone for a reason but we have no idea who 👀

Then how you/izaya is trapped there?? I need the part of the dream where we know why and who LOL but tbh maybe Shigen did have something to do with it 👀 damn nebula and their mysteriousness

Ty again for sharing this with me 😭 it really helped and I enjoyed! I have like,,,mild travel anxiety and this made me feel better💕 for the posting part,,,I will try jdhdjs i have to get back to the Iza/Zuo content but I been ensnared in Genshin Impact and FE: Heros and I’m stuck on Link Click LOL but, I hope to post more about drrr/hybrid verse/Iza+Zuo content!

[shewritestheblues]

The Elevator Bae x Chapter 4

Chapter FOUR

Erik x Black OC (Phoenix)

---------------------

Reruns of Martin plays in the tv as Phoenix whips up her pancake batter. She has turkey bacon and hash browns done on the stove. A knock on the door turns into a beat brin made on the door.

Ava!

Phoenix swings the door open to find Ava and Mica holding up orange juice and liquor.

“What’s brunch without liquor?” Mica says walking in. She immediately looks through the cabinets for a pitcher and begins missing up mimosas. Ava sits on a stool at the kitchen counter while Phoenix starts making the pancakes.

“Let’s just get straight to it, what’s up with Erik?” Ava asks.

Mica pours their drinks. “Who is Erik?”

“A nigga that she want.”

Mica eyes Phoenix for her to explain. She tries to focus on the task at hand of flipping her pancakes.

“Ma’am, get to talking.”

“He lives here. I met him on the elevator. We’ve run into each other from time to time.”

Ava slams her hand on the counter. “Mica, she’s fucking with us. Coby said they be having moments on the elevator, flirting and shit. But come to find out, he’s messing with Sydney--”

“BIG BOOTY SYDNEY?”

“He’s not messing with her.”

Ava’s head snaps over to her. “How you know?”

Phoenix bites her lip as she makes their plates. “He told me.”

“When he say this?”

“Wait, wait,” Mica intervens, “How y’all know he was allegedly messing with Syd?”

Ava has a mouth full of bacon at this point just spilling the little beans that she has. “We seen her in the garage and she was all asking Philly about if she seen the nigga because he left her place like a theif in the night and never called her back.”

“Damn! This nigga a savage and you like him?” Mica turns to Phoenix with concern.

“That is not what she said, Mica. But, he told me last night, this morning, whatever… that she’s cool but he ain’t feeling her in that way.”

“Let me guess, on the elevator?” Ava sticks her tongue out teasing Phoenix. Phoenix gives her the middle finger. Mica swats her hand, “Focus. What exactly did he say?”

“Well… he mentioned having his eye on someone else,” Mica and Ava share a look as Phoenix continued. “And I told him he should tell Sydney he doesn’t like her.”

“...that’s it?” Mica says stuffing hash browns in her mouth.

“No, he-- well, I told him he looks tired and get some rest when I was getting off the elevator. Then he says, “Goodnight baby girl.” and winks at me all flirty and shit.”

“Oh girl, niggas love throwing in a baby girl,” Mica says refilling her glass. “I wouldn’t think nothing of that.”

Phoenix looks to Ava for her input.

“Honestly Philly, I don’t know. Because yeah, niggas just be talking but at the same time, we dont know who this man is. For all we know, you could be making all this shit up.”

“Why would I make this up?”

“No, no I’m not saying you are at all. My point is, only you can judge the vibe between y’all because we don’t know who he is.”

“What he look like?” Mica says with a mouth full of pancakes.

“He’s tall, brown, nice teeth, dreads.”

“Oh, so he’s a daddy. Yeah, you can’t trust those.”

Ava almost spit out her drink from laughing.

-------

The gold chain with a ring hanging from it that sits around Erik’s neck, swings back and forth as he does his last few push ups. He sits up on his floor, rolling his neck and stretching it. His phone lights up on the coffee table in front of him.

Text: Sydney

He swipes to close it without reading it. He gets up and goes into the bathroom, turning on the shower. He steps out of his sweaty clothes and steps in. The warmth of the water stings the new small scar on his abdomen. Biting his lip until the slight pain fades away. Allowing the water to run over his body, he closes his eyes releasing a long sigh.

After washing his body and face, he puts on fresh clothes and relaxes on his huge sectional couch. It’s been a long week for Erik and a day of just chilling is exactly what he needed and wanted. He searched through Netflix with nothing really catching his eye. So he picked up his phone, opening Sydney’s text. It was the 4th text she had sent him since he left her place a few nights ago.

Sydney: E, What’s up?

Sydney: So you’re not going to text me back?

Sydney: Are you okay?

Sydney: so you’re just gonna go ghost. Most niggas wait until after they hit. At this point, I dont even care.

His thumb hovered over the keyboard. Phoenix’s words singing in his ear, I think you should tell her. Communication is key.

She was right, just letting her know he’s not into to her like that is the right thing to do. But, he definitely took the part about communication being about him being more open about liking her instead. He finally types a response.

Erik: Hey. my bad, i’ve been busy. working.

Sydney: you have some free time now? You just left and i wanted to see you.

Erik: Im free but i dont really wanna chill. I like you Syd, but as a friend.

Sydney: wow. Ok

With that out the way, Erik opened his Instagram app, scrolling up his timeline. He comes across a picture that his friend, Shawn posted. Shawn went out to the opening of Club X the night before. He was one of the promoters. As Erik swipes through Shawn’s pics, he notices one that he’s in with four women. One of them being Phoenix. The caption says ‘ClubX now open. Come get lit with the dopest DJ in the city.’ Erik taps the photo to reveal the tags. @DJPhoenixBlue , @AmazingAva , @Micaxoxo , @CamrenMarie. Did he just find Phoenix’s IG page? Without a second thought, he clicks her page and yes… yes he did find elevator bae’s page. He carefully looked and admired every picture. He found himself looking at a pic from June 2016 when Phoenix was back in Detroit, walking through downtown with one of her old friends. That’s when he knew he was doing the most. He scrolled back to the top of her page, reading her bio. He clicks the soundcloud link that’s attached and takes a listen. He nods his head to the R&B beat. It was definitely a vibe. He let her playlist play. He laid his head back onto the couch, closing his eyes. He was on the 5th beat before he sat up to sounds of his stomach rumbling.

“Shit.” He goes into the kitchen, Phoenix’s music still playing. There wasn’t much left in his refrigerator with him being gone for days. He turns the music off to focus on searching through his various food apps to order something. He found himself back on Phoenix’s Instagram page. He leans back on his kitchen counter, completing forgetting about food. He debates with himself if he should follow her. He stood there with his thumb hanging over the follow button. “Fuck it.” he thinks. He taps follow. He came this far, he might as well like a few pics.

He orders from a cafe he likes that’s not too far from his home. It’ll be there in 20 minutes. He finds his way back into the living room, on the couch. He settles with rewatching Naruto. Only made sense because it was his favorite.

---------

Mica helps Phoenix load up the dirty dishes into her dishwasher as Ava rolls them a blunt. Phoenix gave more than enough detail about every encounter she has had with Erik since meeting him. She even told them about the dream she had about him. Mica doesn’t seem to like the idea of Erik while Ava tried to convince Phoenix to shoot her shot with him. Phoenix figured it wouldn’t hurt to ‘think about it.’

After finishing their breakfast and cleaning up, the women are sitting out on Phoenix’s balcony, smoking and trying to make plans for Camren. Her birthday was the weekend coming up and Camren made it clear that she wanted to do Hoodrat things with her friends. That was her only request. They already have a surprise girls trip that they planned months ago, but the three of them would make her ratchet dreams come true.

“Let’s do a surprise dinner and take her ass to the club,” Phoenix says, passing the blunt to Mica. “I can get us a section.”

“Yeahhhh, get some big ass pictures of her face and bottles.” Ava added.

“That would make her so happy.” Mica says between coughs and laughs.

They finalize their plans for the weekend. They are taking Camren out to eat, the club and will surprise her with their planned vacation when she wakes up the next morning with a hangover, contemplating life. Ava and Mica say their goodbyes to Phoenix and leave out to wait for the elevator. When the doors open, they come face to face with Erik. He’s alone in the cabin. He recognizes them immediately as the girls in the pictures with Phoenix and Shawn. He moves over to the left of the cabin. Mica stands center and Ava to the right. Silence sits over the three of them. Erik could feel that one of them is staring fire into the side of his face. When he turns to them, Mica is giving him the worst death stare he’s experienced in his life. They stare at each other.

“Is your name Erik?”

“Yeah. Do I know you?

Ava’s head snaps quickly in his direction. She hadn’t even thought about who the man was in the cabin with them. Mica remembered every detail Phoenix gave about what Erik looked like. He’s tall, brown, nice teeth, dreads.

“Nah, you don’t know me,” Mica says, turning to fully face him. “But what you do need to know is when it comes to Philly, I’ll kick yo’ ass, you pretty muthafucker.”

Erik is confused and caught off guard. Who in the hell is this woman. Is Philly, Phoenix? He really didn’t know how to respond to this threat. Ava pinches the bridge of her nose. She can’t take Mica, NOWHERE!

“Who the fuck is Philly?”

“Oh my God,” Ava intervenes, “You have to excuse her. She’s high as fuck.” Ava grabs Mica’s arm and pulled her to the right side of the cabin, away from Erik. “We’re friends of Phoenix, nice to meet you.”

Erik eyes Mica who seems uninterested in him. “Nice to meet y’all too… I think.”

The elevator doors open and Ava steps out, dragging Mica with her. Watching the two of them made Erik laugh. As he made his way to his car, it hit him what Mica and Ava said. She talked to her friends about him? What in the hell did she say for her friends to be so protective? Either way, he couldn’t stop the redness from forming on his cheeks.

Once Ava and Mica were in Ava’s car, without skipping a beat, Mica facetimes Phoenix. “Sis. We just seen your pretty ass man on the elevator.”

“What?”

“What?” Mica says in a mocking tone. “You love playing stupid. Ya’ boy Erik. I had to let him know he better be on some real shit when it comes to you.”

“MICA!” Phoenix covers her face with her free hand.

“You’re welcome. And he is fine though. I see why you pressed but I still don’t trust his ass.”

-------

The next morning, Phoenix started her day with some morning yoga. She had a few errands to run before a studio session later that night. She needed to go to the bank, do a little grocery shopping and reup on some hair products. She had used the last of her Miss Jessie’s curl cream the night of the club opening. Her hair has been in that same bun since. Putting on some dark denim shorts and a red one shoulder crop top, paired with some red vans, she headed out.

Luckily, when Phoenix arrived at the bank, her favorite banker, Ms. Kim was there. Whenever she’d have to go to the bank, she loved going to her to handle her money. Ms. Kim was an older, black woman that gave her all of the cool, auntie vibes. Ms. Kim was the one who helped Phoenix set up a seperate account for her business account and tax account. She honestly made everything easier.

“Good Afternoon, Miss Phoenix,” Ms. Kim stands, greeting Phoenix has she approached her desk.

“Hi, Ms. Kim.”

Ms. Kim motions for Phoenix to take a seat.

“How have you been little lady? Busy I take it since it’s been a few weeks since I’ve seen you in here.”

Phoenix smiles, “Yeah, I’ve been working like crazy.”

“That’s good. At least you’re busy doing something you love though, right?

“Yes. I wouldn’t trade it for anything, honestly.”

“I’m glad. Now what can I help you with today?”

Phoenix digs into her purse, pulling out two checks. “I want to deposit these and send a little something to my Mom. She’s been bugging me about a purse.” She shakes her head. Ms. Kim laughs and takes the checks and does her magic. She knows just how Phoenix wanted to break up the checks into each of her accounts, which is why Phoenix loved her so much. She never had to ask too many questions. She just knew what to do.

------

Phoenix made her way to the farmers market, getting as much food as she could fit into her basket. She always did this, knowing the struggles of carrying all of the tote bags up to her apartment. But without fail, she did this to herself, every time. Loading her groceries into her car, she heads home. She didn’t have much on her mind but she wasn’t fully there as she pulls into the parking garage of her apartment. She parks her car and starts grabbing her bags from her trunk when one falls and she smashes her carton of eggs. She pouts, pissed off with herself about dropping the bag.

“You have to be kidding me!” She stands there, holding her face trying not to be too upset about it.

“You need some help?” Phoenix turns to find Erik walking in her direction, his keys in hand. She was a bit frozen when she saw him. He was wearing a fitted white shirt with grey joggers and his dreads were braided back. She just stood there, staring at him until his laugh shook her from her trance. He loved how his presence would stall her.

“Umm, no. I’m okay. I don’t wanna hold you up.” She picks up the bag that fell and tries to grab more bags from the trunk. Erik didn’t say anything, he just reached for the bags in her hands, taking them from her.

“Erik…” she tries to protest.

“Girl, grab the rest of the bags and c’mon. I’m not in a rush.”

She was lowkey shocked but did what he said. She grabbed the rest of the bags and closed her trunk, locking her doors. He stood, holding the majority of her groceries so she hit the call button.

“You really didn’t have to--”

“I wanted to. If I’m right here, you don’t need to be carrying all of this up alone.”

“Thank You.” she says in a low tone.

The elevator doors open and they step inside headed up to Floor 7. Phoenix tried to avoid looking at Erik. One, he was looking damn good right now and two, she never knew how she’d react to him.

“You look beautiful today. I like the whole messy bun flow you got going on.” he finally says.

“OH SHIT! I'm sorry, Thank you. You just reminded me that I forgot to pick up some stuff for my hair.”

“What do you use on your hair?”

“Um this Miss Jessie’s curl cream and this Shea Moisture leave in. I completely forgot and I’m all out of both.”

The elevator doors open and Erik follows her to her door. Taking note of the ‘702’ on her door. She pushes the heavy door open and holds it open for him. He follows her into the kitchen, placing the many bags on the counter. Phoenix struggles to get her hand out of the handle of one of the bags, not realizing she’s still holding her keys. Her phone starts ringing in her back pocket. She’s panicking trying to get her hand free and getting her phone. Watching her struggle was a good time for Erik. He walked up to her, taking her keys from her hand and taking the bag from her wrist. His hands were rough and warm and it caught her off guard… as usual.

“Thanks.” She answers her phone just in time. It’s another engineer that she was suppose to have the studio session with. He called to tell her that the artist they were supposed to work with, cancelled so it wasn't a point in going tonight. She was disappointed. She hated when people would cancel last minute being that the studio was her happy place.

The disappointment she felt was all over her face as she hung up the phone.

“Everything okay?” Erik asked. For a moment, she forgot that he was there.

“Yeah, the artist I was suppose to have a studio session with cancelled on me.”

“Oh yeah, you’re a DJ.”

She never told him that. How would he know that? “Yeah… I’m just gonna go by myself though. I have some stuff that I need to get done.”

Erik sways back and forth, debating on if he should ask. Phoenix starts putting away her groceries. She assumed Erik would just leave at that point but he continued to stand there with his hands in his pocket. She stops what she’s doing and eyes him suspiciously.

“This is weird, but would you mind if I tagged along with you? To the studio.”

She was NOT expecting that. Suddenly Ava’s words rang in her ear. Shoot your shot. The thought of that made her nervous but she stopped the nerves in their tracks. What’s the worst that could happen? He wouldn’t ask if he wasn’t interested, right?

“Uh, yeah sure… wait, weren’t you going somewhere before you helped me with my bags?”

Erik leans over onto her counter, rubbing his hands together. “Yeah, but it wasn’t important. Just chilling with some homies.”

“So you’re just gonna bail on your friends to hang out with me? You don’t even know me.”

“You don’t really know me but I’m all up in ya’ kitchen right now.”

He had a point. She just shook her head and finishes putting away her groceries. He watched her every move. It’s still pretty early so Phoenix still has time to go out and get her hair products before heading to the studio.

“Well everything’s put away. I’m gonna go get my hair stuff. You can just meet me in the garage around 8. Is that cool?”

Eriks stands up straight, “Yeah.”

She smiles and grabs her purse, walking to the door. Erik follows. He waits for her by the elevators as she locks her door. When the elevators opens for them, Mya steps off.

“Hey Phoenix.”

“Hey, Mya.” she waves at her. Mya looks at Erik and then back to Phoenix, mouthing to her, “YAS SIS!” Phoenix laughs. Erik is going up to his place to wait for her so she says bye to him and watches him step in and the doors close. She patiently waits for the cabin to come back down to take her down to the parking garage. Making it to the beauty supply, she buys way more than she needed. Getting some new Mane Choice shampoo, a long, curly ponytail (because you never know when you’ll need one), the curl creams she came for and some hair accessories. She could never control herself in the beauty supply store. It was like a candy store for black girls.

She made her way back home and couldn’t resist washing her hair to try her new products and honestly, she couldn’t wait to retire that messy bun.

------

Erik waits in the parking garage for Phoenix. Checking his phone, it’s now 8:12pm. He’s not usually a patient man but he would wait for as long as he needed for her. Finally a ding from the elevators alerts him that someone is getting off. Phoenix steps out with fresh curls that are still partially wet. She had changed into some black joggers and a Snoop Dogg T-Shirt with her backpack hanging on one arm.

“I’m sorry. I really had to wash my hair.”

He smiles at her. “It’s not a problem, baby girl.”

There’s that name again. She stares at him. “Uh, yeah. You ready?”

“Lead the way.”

He follows her to her car. He steps around her, opening her door for her. She smiles a thank you and he walks around, getting into the passenger seat. She holds up the Aux cord.

“This is my only offer. Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

“You’re the DJ. Let me hear what you like to listen to.”

Phoenix proceeds to plug in her phone and put her playlist on shuffle. Megan thee Stallion x Cash Shit comes on blasting through the speakers as Phoenix pulls out onto the road. She raps along.

Yeah, I’m in my bag // but I’m in his too.

That’s why every time you see me // I got some new shows. AH!

Erik enjoys the show of Phoenix rapping along to every song that comes on. He even joins in when Dreamville x Got Me comes on.

I got you long as you got me // And I got you long as you got me

----

Walking into the studio building, Phoenix greets the security guy at the front desk. This is her favorite studio to work in so she knows everyone who works out of the building by name.

“Hey, Larry.”

“Hello, Miss Blue.”

She loves that he calls her that. Erik nods at Larry and Larry does the same. They continue to an elevator that takes them to the third floor. Walking into the huge studio, Phoenix flicks on the lights and begins setting up her laptop, pulling out her writing notebook. Erik looks around. Blue and green lights, light up the booth that sits in front of them.

“You want something to drink? There’s all types of stuff in the fridge.” Phoenix asks, sitting in a big, comfy chair.

“Nah, I’m good for now.” Erik sits next to her. He sits and just watches as she finishes setting up everything. She has a few samples that she made in her files so she starts with those first. A very smooth R&B Style beat with drums begins to play through the speakers. Phoenix digs in her backpack and pulls out a bag of weed.

“You smoke?” she asks, taking out a back wood.

“Yeah.”

“When I come here alone, this is how I set the mood.”

He watches her carefully as she breaks the weed down so effortlessly. She bobs her head to the beat, filling the back wood with the weed. He could tell, this was her zone. She seemed so relaxed here. Even he couldn’t shake her up right now.

“So, Erik,” She adds emphasis to his name. “Tell me something.”

“What you wanna know?” he watches as she begins to perfectly lick the blunt closed. He’s mesmerized.

“What do you do?”

“In the Navy… engineer.”

She looks at him as she lights the blunt and takes a drag. She slowly releases the smoke. “You from here?”

“Yeah. Grew up in Oakland. You?”

“Nah… I’m from Detroit.”

“Damn, that’s what’s up. When did you come out here?”

She hands him the blunt. “Last year. My career started taking off. I was flying out here like every other week so I just moved out here.”

“You like it?”

“I love it.”

They passed the blunt back and forth until it was gone. The same beat still playing in the background. Phoenix was feeling her high and the beat. Melodies started coming to her as she sung a series of Ahhhs and Heyyys until they formed into lyrics and she wrote them down in her notebook.

“Damn girl, you can sing?”

“I can hold a note or two.”

“Have you ever wrote and recorded any songs for yourself?”

“I have a few.”

“Can I hear one?”

She’s hesitant at first but she goes through her files and finds a song she wrote when she broke up with her ex. As the song played, Erik paid close attention to every word, every note. He felt like he could hear her pain in her voice. She noticed the focused expression on his face. Like he was trying to figure out the exact story that inspired the song.

“Wrote this last year when I came out here. My ex… he uh, he cheated and had a baby.”

The song ends and she goes back to the beats she was listening to before.

“You’ve been single since?” he asks.

“Yeah. Just been working. If I’m gonna give a nigga my time, he has to understand my work. He can’t get in the way of that, ya’ know?”

“I get it.”

“How long have you been single?”

Erik sits back in his chair, rubbing his beard. “I’ve actually never really been in a relationship.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. Life just didn’t seem to allow me to do all of that.”

“Why?”

Erik was never one to open up to people. Maybe it was the weed or maybe it was the vibe, but he felt safe with Phoenix in this moment. “I had to take care of myself growing up. Parents died young so I didn’t have time for distractions. Got into college early. Went to MIT,” Phoenix eyes grew big at that. “Went straight into the navy after that.”

“Do you think things have changed for you now? Like… maybe you would be able to try out a relationship or something?”

“Well, where I am now, if that’s what I wanted to do, I’ll figure it out. But it’s like you said, it has to be somebody that understands my work.”

She nods and turns to work on the beat that’s playing. After making a few adjustments, she figured out just what it was missing. She looked to Erik and noticed he was vibing out to the new, improved beat.

“You like it?”

“Hell yeah. I fuck with this.”

That made her happy. She loved when other people were vocal about her work.

“Can I ask you something, Erik?”

“Wassup?”

“So… what really happened with you and Sydney?”

He looks at her. He couldn’t read her like he usually could. “Nothing. We hung out. Chilled at her place. Got so high, we both passed out and I left. She wanted to do more but like I told you, I wasn’t feeling it.”

She played with her fingers. He rolled his chair closer to her and lifted her chin so she’s looking at him. “You don’t have to worry about her.”

“What?” She moved back. “I’m not worried about her. I was just-- nothing, never mind.”

He didn’t push her to continue. She opted to ask him more generic questions.

“Anyways… um, what’s your favorite color?”

If this is how she wanted this to go, he’d play along. “My favorite color is black. Yours?”

“Blue.” she smiled.

By the end of the session, Phoenix had finished two beats. She even showed Erik how to work a few buttons so he could help her record a few hooks and a verse. By the end of the session, they knew a lot more about each other. Erik’s last name is Stevens and he was 31. He loved french toast and watching anime. Phoenix was 27 with a birthday coming in just a few months. Erik may or may not be plotting to get her something. She loved animals and told him about her most embarrassing moment in high school when she was performing for pep rally and tripped on her own two feet in front of the whole school. They had a good time with each other. It was almost 2am when they left.

As they waited for the elevator, Erik stood dangerously close to Phoenix. She could feel like body heat and she wanted so bad to wrap her arms around him for him to warm her up.

“I had a good time with you tonight, Philly.”

“I had a good time with you too, Stevens.” She poked his chest.

The elevator arrives and they step on, Floor 7 and Penthouse floor as their destinations. The ride up was a comfortable, tired silence. As Phoenix got off on her floor, Erik reached for her hand, stopping her right between the open doors. He rubbed the back of her hand with his thumbs. He licked his lips and she watched with her mouth parted slightly. He knew just what he was doing. “Goodnight, baby girl.”

If this nigga dont stop this!

“Goodnight, E.”

He was surprised at the nickname. Sure, most people called him E, but coming from her, at this moment, felt different. Like equivalent to his ‘baby girl.’ He felt a rush move through his chest as she slowly slid her hand from his, stroking his fingers and smiled at him. She stood on the other side of the doors until the doors shut. This time, it was Erik with jelly legs. He caught himself by leaning back on the back wall of the cabin as it traveled up. He has never felt like this with no woman… ever!

When he made it into his place, he stripped out of his clothes and took a hot shower. Thinking of the way her hand felt in his made his dick twitch under the warm water. He stroked it a few times before choosing to just wash up and go to bed. He really didn’t understand this feeling and didn’t want to process it right now. He just wanted to have this moment. Whatever it was. As he made himself comfortable in his cool sheets, he picked up his phone, opening Instagram. Phoenix’s story the first one highlighted at the top of his screen. He clicked it and 4 minutes ago, she posted a photo of the city’s view from her bedroom with the caption ‘Nights like This❤️ ’

There it is… that feeling in his chest again. He locks his phone and drifts off to sleep with Phoenix as the last thought on his mind.