#and like. someone did told me to put this behind a pay wall because. admittedly i do need the money.. my pc is kinda falling apart

[wingsforthewicked]

kinda wrote this in the tags of a queued reblog for the tutorial for another blog, but. idk i keep thinking about it

about like. the praise i never expected of the tutorial, a project which i started At Least two years ago, and after believing for some time that all of it was only half coherent n i wasn't doing enough—that i wasn't Showing enough of wings for this to be worth it. so this is like. surreal, in a way (tho i will admit my friends did keep me from going too far down that train of thought. even if sometimes they didnt realize)

perfectionism is such a weird demon to deal with, and... i'm not sure if i'll ever live without it, but i guess... i guess this is nice ;u;

[defavorise]

IC TASK #001  — THE HAUNTED HOUSE @ogdencollegerp​

Truth be told Sloane loved a haunted house. Even a shitty, braindead sorority run haunted house managed to have its charms. She usually loved Halloween. She loved putting an immense amount of effort into her costumes (even if people didn’t always know who she was), she loved scary stories and horror movies, and it was one of the few holidays you weren’t pressured to be surrounded by family. 

Sloane toys with the glowstick around her wrist as she enters. It wasn’t that she was afraid to be touched, it was more that if she was touched by surprise by a scare actor someone would most likely end up with a bruised lip and it wouldn’t be her. Besides it was hard to be afraid of a bunch of theater kids. The scariest part about the evening would be the party found at the end full of drunk and rich college students downing water downed cocktails in bad wigs. 

Her heels click-clack against the ground as she slowly turns a corner and runs into her first creature— someone dressed as a clown cackles loudly as they jump in front of her. How original. The blonde jumps back before rolling her eyes and was relieved nobody was around to see her react. She continues onward. It was longer than she expected it to be, admittedly, and of course the decorations were annoyingly impressive. She hears moans as she enters the chain hallway. Hands slowly reach out as if they’d touch her and Sloane walks through it casually. She thinks about how one time when she was little Greer had started crying in the middle of a haunted house and Sloane had to take her hand to guide her through. Goddammit. You really did think about someone more when they were gone. 

Next there’s a mirror. She walks right up to it and peers to read the text written in fake blood. Something wicked this way comes. If they really wanted to scare the students, they should have written something like mom and dad aren’t going to pay your rent anymore or you must get a job. The thought makes her laugh, which is quickly cut off by another scare actor coming out from behind. They grab her jacket and she’s quick to shove them off, causing them to stumble back into the wall. “Are you kidding me? Asshole.” She raises her hand to show her glowstick and flips the person off and huffs to move on to the next attraction. 

For the first time that night, Sloane stops dead in her tracks. Her eyes ice skate around the room full of missing persons posters. Couldn’t she just have one night where she didn’t have to be reminded about Greer? The only positive was she wanted to compliment whoever’s idea it was because they truly had some sick taste. It was probably one of those obnoxious girls who consumes too much true crime. She pulls out her cellphone, turns the flash on, and takes a picture. Immediately she sends the photo to her mother without any context. There was some satisfaction the in possibility of ruining the woman’s night with photos of her missing posters hung up on a tacky Halloween attraction. She stares for a little longer, all sorts of emotions bubbling up, and she begins to tear them down forcefully. The papers pile up at her feet until an actor approaches the young woman. “Hey, you can’t—.” 

“I can’t what? Because actually I can. There’s nothing physically stopping me from taking down your shitty decorations.” She hisses, ripping another poster off and dropping it in front of the other. They’re unsure how to react but fortunately Sloane decides that she’s done in the room and brushes past them without saying another word. Fuck this place. 

The end is near, she can hear the loud music from the party, and she’s half tempted to turn back the way she came. That is until something else catches her eye. A door labelled UR NEXT appears. They clearly had a theme this year and ran with it. The blonde decides she’d rather take her chances with whatever entity was behind the door rather than face her fellow partygoers just yet. She puts her hand on the doorknob and turns it. 

You’re next? She should be so lucky.

[beccascribbles]

It angst time bby!🤪 Could you maybe pls do a Iwa,Tendou and Tsuki x reader/manager scenario where their s/o gets bullied because they are the manager of the team. Also it goes that far that the girls threaten them to leave the vb club/ end their relationship bevor it will be much worse for them. ( a fluffy end would be nice because I saw lots of angsty fics today kndjsjsna)

a/n - you asked and i shall deliver. sometimes we just have a craving for angst. i’m a little bit obsessed with it myself (think a large part of my blog is angst tbh). and don’t worry, they are fluffy endings i think... hope you enjoy!

"i can't do this anymore," you sobbed, finally letting the tears fall. iwaizumi reached out for you desperately, hand curling around your waist and pulling you into his chest. his arm, corded with muscle, wrapped around your waist protectively, holding you close to him. his other hand held the back of your head. “i can’t, haji. they won’t stop. it won’t stop.”

“shh,” he murmured, stroking the back of your head as your tears dampened his shirt. part of him was confused, the other part focused entirely on offering you support. he had no idea who this mysterious they was. it wasn’t surprising that he didn’t know, the girls choosing moments when iwaizumi (and anyone who might inform him of what was happening) was gone to be their cruellest. “who’s they?”

you stiffened slightly against him then, mind pulling their most recent assault to the forefront of your mind. taloned fingernails had dug into your shoulders before pushing you harshly, your back hitting the brick wall behind you harshly. rough brick had dug into your back, the pain not enough to distract you from the words they spat at you. you had flinched away, looked for an escape, but there was nowhere to go. one girl, clearly the ringleader, had yanked at your hair, pulling your face towards her.

“you stupid little whore,” she had hissed, letting out a cold laugh at the wince that escaped your lips. “if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stop managing the team and leave iwaizumi while you’re at it. you don’t deserve him and he sure as hell doesn’t need you.”

her words had been echoed by the other girls with her, and when the tears had finally began to prick at your eyes, they had decided their needs had been satisfied for today. she had turned back to look at you one last time before leaving you with her parting words. “remember what i said. if you want it to stop, you know what to do.”

“y/n?” iwaizumi questioned, his voice cutting through the memory. worry laced his tone, and he had pulled you away from his chest to be able to see your face. you blinked up at him, a dreadful realisation coming over you. you knew how to make it stop. it was simple. you just had to force out the words.

the texture of his skin was rough against yours, his hands calloused from a childhood spent playing volleyball. you wanted to surrender to his warmth, to downplay everything you were feeling, to blame it on some simple reason such as school, anything to be with him for just a little longer. but you couldn’t. it needed to be done.

“i want to break up,” you said, forcing the words out, fresh tears beginning to fall from your eyes. the weight you had expected to be lifted was not. instead, remorse crushed you. for a moment, you struggled to breath, the air trapped in your throat. it was only iwaizumi’s gentle nudging, the way he guided you through your breathing, that helped you regain a semblance of calm.

“no you don’t,” he said calmly, seeing right through you. there was never any point in lying to him. he could see right through any lies that slipped from your lips. “i also won’t let you.”

your eyes widened in fear, her face flashing to life in your brain. your scalped tingled in remembrance of the way she had yanked your hair. suddenly, you began to shake, wrapping your arms around yourself. you let out a wretched sob. “hajime... please.”

“no,” he said, rubbing your arm soothingly in an attempt to calm you. “you need to tell me what the fuck is going on. no hiding from me. we’re sorting this out and i’m going to find out who put such stupid ideas into your head and they’re going to pay.”

you shook your head weakly, but his hands were quick to stop your movements, thumb reaching out to brush away the tears collecting in the corner of your eye. he leant forward, resting his forehead against yours. “we’re sorting this out, okay?”

“okay.”

really, you should’ve known he would understand. you should have known that of anyone who would understand how helpless you were feeling, how truly you believed leaving the team was your only escape from their torment, was tendou. he had opened up to you, told you about his childhood, his experience with bullies. yet, you couldn’t open up to him, couldn’t tell him what was happening to you.

“why weren’t you at practice today?” questioned tendou, the first words out of his mouth when you opened your dorm room to him. the second thing he did was press a kiss to your lips, his hands going up to hold your face tenderly. “you’re not sick, are you? i hope not, otherwise i shouldn’t have kissed you. i guess we can be ill together though.”

“i quit,” you said, moving away from him and collapsing onto your bed, picking up the magazine you had discarded moments before. you opened it, using it as a shield to protect you from tendou’s gaze. his eyes narrowed as he looked at you. 

“why would you do that?” he asked, moving over to the bed and sitting opposite you, reaching over to remove the magazine from in front of your face. you let out a grumble, though did little to actually resist.

“i didn’t feel like doing it anymore,” you lied, studying the wall behind him. it was painfully obvious you were avoiding his gaze, just further proof that you were lying to him. “it wasn’t fun anymore. besides, i need to focus on school.”

“tut tut,” he admonished, waggling his finger at you. him reprimanding you caused a small smile to tug at your lips, one that quickly vanished when he persisted. “why would you really quit?”

you crossed your arms over your chest, physically turning your body away from him. the quiet rejection did little to discourage him. instead, he reached for your hand.

“i saw you with some girls yesterday,” he admitted, taking careful note of the way your whole body suddenly stiffened. he chose his next words carefully, not wanting you to pull away, to refuse to confirm the suspicions he already had. “you looked upset. are you okay now?”

it was at those words that you finally turned to look at him, fresh tears making your eyes seem to shimmer. it was an oddly beautiful sight, mused tendou, reaching out with care to brush a finger along your jaw. sudden anger twisted your features, shattering the illusion and causing him to jerk his hand away.

“of course i’m not fucking okay,” you spat, yanking your hand from his landing a solid hit the mattress you were both sitting on. “it’s fucking pathetic that i let them have their way just because i was scared.”

you pushed up from the bed, turning around wildly, looking for something, anything, that would ease the emotions currently rushing through you. they were hard to distinguish, coming together to leave you craving for a release. tendou stood up to join you, holding his hands out in front of him.

“punch me,” he stated, stance adjusting so he was properly balanced. you didn’t even question it, balling your hands into fists and launching a fist into his palm. the crack of skin on skin echoed around the room, and you felt the release. he praised you, “solid hit. need to go again?”

you shook your head, stepping forward and leaning your head against his chest, fingers curling into the flimsy material of his shirt. his arms wrapped around you, holding you tight.

“what am i going to do?” you sighed. tendou shuffled backwards, pulling you along with him until he was sat on the bed, your legs either side of his own as you sat on his lap. he took your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your face up to look at him.

“you’re going to re-join the team,” he explained, before a smirk twisted his features, “and i’m going to enlist some help to go and confront some bullies.”

he doesn’t say anything to you, doesn’t really do much to acknowledge the tears rolling down your cheeks other than to wrap his arm around your shoulder. you are tugged into his lean body, and are quick to turn your head into his chest to hide your tears from view. admittedly, it was a bit late at this point, the majority of the team having already passed you on their way into the gym. you had simply waved away their concerns, not thinking you could find the words to explain, to tell them you were leaving.

“so,” mused tsukishima, letting your bury your face into his chest, your hands clutching onto the material of his top. ordinarily, he would have told you to stop stretching the fabric. however, you had been off for a couple of days, more withdrawn, and he figured he was close to finding out the reason why. “what happened?”

you let out a stifle, finally looking up at him with red-rimmed eyes. “i left the team.”

“that doesn’t really answer my question though, does it?” he prodded. something told you he had an inclination at the cause behind it. there was no solid evidence to prove his suspicions, however. all he could go off was the look of trepidation in your eyes, the way you body would tense when certain people approached.

you shook your head, fists clenching tighter. he let out a soft sigh, his other arm coming around your body to hold you more securely against his chest. he reprimanded you softly, “you could have told me, or at least someone else on the team if you didn’t want me to know. i wouldn’t think any less of you because you’re being bullied.”

“they said it would get worse if i told anyone, if i didn’t do what they said,” you hiccupped, relaxing in his firm hold, soothed by the steady rise and fall of his chest.

“y/n,” he sighed, tilting his head down to look at you, “they’re just pathetic nobodies who are jealous of you. do you honestly think they could actually hurt you more if you told someone? i’d like to see them try.”

his hold brought you comfort, and you found yourself calming down. he released you, reaching down to take your hand and give it a reassuring squeeze, dropping a kiss to the top of your head in the process. as he walked back with you towards the gym, he murmured darkly, “i might just give them a small taste of their own medicine.”

“kei,” you warned, hand tightening on his, “don’t.”

“i’m still going to talk to them.”

“you don’t even know who they are.”

“i can guess, or you can tell me.”

you just shook your head, his words bringing a distraction from the emotions still just beneath the surface just as he knew they would.

[mackenziebrooks]

Stay

Summary: the reader is a pro-hero who happens to show up at villain Bakugou’s doorstep severely injured from a villain attack. 

Pairing: Villain Katsuki Bakugou x reader 

Word count: 2248

Warnings: angst, slight cussing, talks about dying, emotional, slight possessive, 

A/N: Here is another Bakugou fic that I happened to create. Decide to make Bakugou a villain but have some deep love and protection for his significant other. This is a fic that I created but felt like it wasn’t any good, so I gave up on posting it. I hope it is good and you guys enjoy it. :)

———————————————————————

Running, it was all that you could do to get away from the villain attack that had just occurred. 

The attack had separated you from the rest of the pro-heroes that were called to handle the situation. You fought as hard as you could till you couldn’t anymore. Villains were still continuing to join the fight, wanting to get rid of any pro-heroes that were left. Without getting noticed, you took shelter to try and find help. You spoke into your wrist communicator, asking “Deku? Shouto? Can anyone hear me?”, and all you could hear was just static. Meaning your communication with those two was no longer in session.

You yelled “ Damn it!”, then winced after expressing your emotions. Since you were very injured. You remove yourself from your hiding spot and bolt down the alley. Hoping to find some help along the way. Slowly your pace started to die down and you couldn’t run anymore. All you could do was walk, with pain increasing on every step. Blood gushed from your arm and the side of your head. Your body ached from the cuts and bruises it received from the fight. Hell, you didn’t know half the injuries you received, since you were in a panic state. All you wanted was to find someone or somewhere to feel safe. 

It started to rain and made your night even worse. Looking around, you tried to figure out your surroundings. You saw the street sign and instantly walked down the dark street to the third house on the left. It may look like a house, but it was secretly a lair. A lair for a villain that you knew all too well. Carefully, you made sure that no one was following you. No heroes and no villains. The villain you were going to see, strictly forbidden it. Because he wanted to be kept secret from the world.

You made it up to the steps and knocked on the door slowly. Hoping that he was home and that he wasn't out somewhere causing trouble. Hope he wasn’t the one that caused the attack and your injuries. The door slowly opened and a person came into view, but it wasn’t who you wanted to see. It was the next person in line. It was Eijirou Kirishima. 

Kirishima blinked a couple of times and spoke “ Y/N? What are you doing here?!?” He was completely horrified by how you looked. He may look bad with his scars, but this was not even close to his. You were standing here shaking and wet from the rain. Your hero suit was torn but still kept your lady parts hidden. Blood covered your entire body. This was a massacre.

You stood there trembling and asked “ W-w-where is Bakugou?”, pressing your hand into the deep cut upon your arm. Trying to keep yourself from not losing any more blood. 

Kirishima replied “ He’s out looking for you. Once he knew it was your crew and you. He admittedly went out. He took Denki and Sero with him’’. Kirishima opened the door more so that you could get into the house. As you made your way into the house, you slowly started to sway a little bit. From the blood loss and from being cold. On the next step you took, you were heading for the floor. Kirishima acted quickly and caught you, then he yelled '’ Mina!! Help!! Please It’s Y/N!!!” 

Mina rushed in and was just as horrified as Kirishima was. Mina picked you up as Kirishima said “ Get her to the infirmary room and hurry!! We can’t lose her!!’’ Mina didn’t reply back to him and she did what she was told to do. She rushed you to the infirmary room and started getting to work. She hooked you up to an oxygen tank and got all the fluids that you needed.

Since becoming a villain, Mina started to learn everything there was to know about being a doctor. Someone with brains in this group needed to get the gang back up on their feet when they got injured. Mina worked and worked on you as hard as she could, your heart rate would go so low that she would tell you “ Come on Y/N! Do not give up on me now! I need you to stay with me, please. Stay for the sake of Bakugou please!” Even with you being passed out, his name would always help you gain some strength to hold on more.

Kirishima paced back and forth, waiting for Bakugou and the other two to return home. Kirishima didn’t want to be the one to tell him the news, but he was the closest friend to Bakugou. The door opened up and it was slammed shut. Meaning, the blonde was home. Bakugou walked into the living room and sat down on the couch. Denki and Sero walked away with their heads down, they couldn’t find you. 

Bakugou ran his hands through his hair, he was trying so hard to not let his frustrations out. Though he was so close to doing it. He couldn’t find his girl and he searched everywhere that he could think of. Bakugou said “ God damn it! Where the hell is she!”, as he screamed up at the ceiling. Kirishima bit his lip and wanted to tell his leader to calm down. Since Mina was operating on you, and she needed the house to be quiet.

Kirishima asked “ You couldn’t locate her with her tracker?’’, looking over at his friend. Bakugou replied “ No I couldn’t! Somehow it malfunctioned while she was fighting. Because it only shows her last location. I couldn’t even find the stupid nerd or that damn half and half bastard”. Bakugou knew you would never leave the sights of Deku or Todoroki, so he knew that this attack was big. He needed to find you and find you soon.

Kirishima could not keep the secret to himself anymore, he had to tell Bakugou that you were here. Before he could, Bakugou stood up and headed for the door once again. Kirishima asked “ Where the hell are you going now?”, Bakugou said, “ I’m going to go look again. I do not care if I get caught by Deku and Icy-hot. I’m going to find my girl”. Bakugou put a foot out the door just as Kirishima grabbed his arm.

Kirishima spoke, “ Wait! Bakugou you need to go look in the infirmary first”. Bakugo jerked his arm from his red-headed friend and turned around. He said, “ Why should I? Just tell Mina to fix herself and whoever up. Then those low lives can get the fuck out of my house”. Kirishima bawled his fits up and looked down. Kirishima spoke softly “ It isn’t Mina and it isn’t some low life”. Kirishima slowly raised his head up with tears filling up his eyes, then said “ It’s Y/N Bakugou”.

Bakugou stood there in complete silence, just staring up at his shark tooth comrade. Bakugou didn’t even give Kirishima time to explain anything. Bakugou raced towards the infirmary, only wanting to see you. Once he got there, the note on the door said “ Medical personnel in operation”. Bakugou screamed, “ No no no!!! Alien let me fucking in!! Please!!”. He slid down the wall and put himself in the fetal position. 

Kirishima had followed Bakugou and stopped. Kirishima bent down to a knee and tried to help calm his friend down. Bakugou the entire time had tears streaming down his face, but he wasn’t going to lift his face up. Bakugou wasn’t the type to let out his emotions. He always kept them bottled up to himself, he didn’t always tell you what was wrong. He knew he needed to let these out. For the sake of your life. Bakugou said, “ Y/N, stay please. Please stay with me. I can’t lose you”.

It didn’t take long and the door opened up. Mina walked out and looked over at the two boys. Kirishima and Bakugo both looked up at her. Bakugou wiped his face and stood up quickly. He grabbed her shoulders and asked, “ Do not tell me she is fucking gone! Tell me she is still here!!”. Kirishima gently pulled Bakugou off and said “Easy buddy easy”. Bakugou did some breathing and tried to keep it together. Mina knew he was going to be in this state and she spoke “ Yes Bakugou, Y/N is still here but, she barely made it”. 

Bakugou pushed past Mina and walked into the room. You were sleeping peacefully and finally were safe. Bakugou slowly made his way over and took your hand into his. He placed kisses onto your forehead and leaned his head against yours. Bakugo spoke through his break down “ I’m so sorry y/n. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to keep you safe”, placing more kisses on your forehead. 

Bakugou sat in the chair next to your bed and asked “ What are her injuries raccoon eyes?” He may have let them see his face and tears earlier, but he wasn’t going to take his eyes off of you. Mina grabbed the clipboard and spoke, “ She has stitches in her right inner forearm, some in the side of her head. Cracked and bruised ribs on both sides. A sprained ankle. Bruising and cuts all over her body. Plus blood loss”. Bakugou winced at hearing all of the injuries that you had suffered. It was going to be a long recovery for you.

Mina spoke, “ I took the tracker out of her left wrist so that we could fix it”. Bakugou nodded and knew that he needed to tell you about the tracker that he had put in you. He knew you may be mad at him for it, but he didn’t care. Was it possessive of him to do it? Bakugou would say yes it was. Because he wanted to always make sure that you were safe and sound. That no one else was making his girl theirs. If they were, it was going to be hell to pay. 

Mina walked out of the room and shut the door behind her. Bakugou sat there and just stared at you. He was trying his best not to have another breakdown. Because he knew he had to be the strong one till you were able to regain your strength back. 

You coughed and slowly opened your eyes, you spoke “ K- Katsuki?”. Bakugou's eyes went wide and he quickly squeezed your hand. He even started to smooth your hair back, while saying “ Yeah it’s me princess. I’m here. You’re safe now”. He didn’t care that you called him by his first name, he was just glad that he was able to hear your sweet voice. You raised your hand and placed it on his cheek. You felt your villain boyfriend’s tears hit your hand. You spoke “ I’m- i'm sorry” while letting your own tears fall. Bakugou kissed your lips and said, “ Don’t be sorry my little hero, it wasn’t your fault. Please get some rest. I’ll be back okay? I’ll see if we can move you into our room”. 

You grabbed his arm and shook your head. You spoke “Please don’t go. Please do not leave me alone!”, with more tears streaming. Bakugou looked into your eyes and saw the absolute fear that they had. He knew what had happened must have put a huge impact on you. Bakugou spoke “ Princess I have…..”, but he didn’t finish his sentence. 

You turn away and face the other side of the room. You said, “ Right...because you have to”. Bakugou swallowed his pride and let a breath out. His anger wanted to be unleashed but not right now. Bakugou spoke to himself “ Not now Katsuki. Not when she is in a state like this”. Bakugou slowly climbed into the hospital bed with you and held you close. Not enough to hurt you. You turned over and cuddled up to him as he stroked your hair. Bakugou spoke, “ I’m not going to leave you, you asked me not to so I will stay. I’m not going to let you out of my sight princess”. 

Bakugo slowly pulled his phone out and sent a group text to the gang. The text said, “ I’m going to be out of commission for a while. My duties are to care of Y/n, that’s what I am going to do. If you need me just text. If it is more serious then come get me. I’m not leaving Y/n’s side”. He put his phone back in his pocket and started to hum softly. He hoped that it would help you calm down some. Bakugou said, “ It will all be okay princess, I’m going to take care of you. You're going to stay here and live a beautiful life with me. I love you so much Y/N”. 

[darkorderaf]

Prompts 125 & 141 with Alex Reynolds:)

Glad that your requests are open!

Oh hell yeah. I went a little enemies to lovers on this one and it admittedly took on a whole life of its own. Thank you so much for your request and please enjoy!!! <3

Pairing: Alex Reynolds x OFC. Prompts: “Quit moving, I’m trying to sleep. Wait…are you…what?!” “Use your words.” Rating: M. Warnings/Content: Smut. It gets spicy. Word Count: 2,118.

(I don’t own gif; credit to allelitewrestlings!)

“Is this a joke?”

“Am I in hell? Am I in actual hell?”

They spoke in a furious tandem. She tore the paper out of Alex’s hands and checked it again. The poor hotel receptionist wasn’t prepared for two seething wrestlers at midnight but there they were, completely upended by what the booking confirmation said. The room was indeed assigned to her and one Alex Reynolds. She ran her hand over her face and sighed in agitation. The hotel receptionist awkwardly slid their keys across the countertop. They took them begrudgingly, then looked at each other with all the warmth of dueling street cats.

Was this punishment for arriving last to the hotel? Had she unknowingly upset the Khan man himself? Similar questions ran through his mind.

“Unbelievable,” she muttered under her breath. She kept a white-knuckle grip on her suitcase as they walked. “We’re not even in the same faction!”

Just last week, she and the rest of The Pinnacle had been feuding with Dark Order! And now her and her worst enemy with the great hair were supposed to share a room? This was all a bad joke. Alex rolled his eyes and checked the room number again.

“How about this? You pretend that I don’t exist,” he said, tone helpful and light but just as biting. He swiped his key and shoved the door open. He shot her a look. “And I’ll pretend that you don’t exist. That’s easy, right? We pretty much do that alre--”

Neither of them checked what kind of room it was. What kind of accommodations they would have. They were too focused on the fact that someone had the audacity to put them together. One queen bed sat in the middle of the small room, daring them to make a fuss. No couch or chair to be seen.

“I’ll sleep in the bathtub,” she said quickly. She didn’t want to cross the threshold because then that would make the situation all too real. “Yup, that’s where I’ll be.”

“Uh, no, that’s a negative,” Alex said as his head swiveled to stare at her. With how close they were, whatever he used to wash his hair rolled over her. It smelled...good. She frowned and he continued. “You’re not going to hold the one bathroom hostage.”

“I’m not going to hold it hostage!”

Alex arched a brow at her in challenge as he crossed the threshold of the room first. Nose crinkled, she followed in after him and tried to assess the floor space available. He seemed to be doing the same thing and that sat strange in her belly. He could just take the bed, claim it for himself and leave her on the floor, but he didn’t seem to be doing that. She eyed him suspiciously as he grabbed a pillow and tossed it to the ground.

“What are you doing?”

“Well, I don’t want you to murder me in my sleep, so…”

He gestured to the floor with an exasperated look.

“Oh come on,” she sighed, a hand on her hip and her head tilted. “I wouldn’t kill you, Reynolds.”

“Oh yeah? Really?”

“Think of all the legal trouble that would be. And over you of all people? Please.”

Their eyes locked from opposite sides of the bed and if there was a rumble of thunder, she wouldn’t question it. The rest of the night was, by all standards, boring. They gave each other a wide berth, barely exchanged words. He was already on the floor with his eyes closed when she came out of her shower. His travel blanket settled low across his bare chest and his arm settled on his belly.

As she towel dried her hair, she tried to think of when it started. Their animosity towards each other. They were part of rival factions so part of it was a given, the nature of the gig, but where did the rest come from? Every time they crossed paths, they jeered at each other. Nothing that dug too far under the skin but enough to rile each other up. It felt like it was almost immediate, as soon as they locked eyes for the first time.

Schoolyard. That’s what it was.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to murder me?”

His voice snapped her out of it. Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t notice that his eyes opened or that he laid back with his hands behind his head. Or that he was looking at her with slow, languid blinks. Or that she had been intensely staring at him. The lighting in the room wasn’t the best but it shadowed and defined the muscles of his chest, his arms. Accentuated the sharp line of his jaw and his perfect brows. Her eyes narrowed at him and that brow of his arched again. Like he knew something.

Who gave him the right to look like the cover to a romance novel? And why was she thinking about that now?

She made a disgusted noise and didn’t answer him. She was just tired and frustrated with the situation, that was all. That was all it could be. There was no layer of hell where she found Alex Reynolds attractive.

Absolutely not.

The heat between her legs and in her low belly an hour later told her otherwise. Her brain, that traitorous asshole, had latched onto the idea of romance novel Alex Reynolds with the perfect hair and heated stare. It tingled her toes, her chest. She was so invested trying to purge herself of those thoughts with her eyes on the wall, half-awake, that she had hardly noticed that Alex had climbed onto the bed beside her. Her under the sheets and him on top. He had grumbled something about the floor being garbage and how he had a match tomorrow but she didn’t hear it.

She clenched her thighs together tight to give herself some relief. It wasn’t happening. Maybe he wouldn’t notice. It would be too obvious if she got up and went into the shower for the second time that night. She slipped her hand down across the warm expanse of her stomach and settled it where she needed friction the most. A quiet whimper-like moan slipped out of her. A desperate sound that he absolutely heard.

“Quit moving, I’m trying to sleep,” he said to her, voice low and agitated. That didn’t help either and a sharp nudge against her swollen clit pulled another whimper out of her. Alex went still beside her. “Wait...are you...what!?”

She froze and slowly, she half-turned to look at him. He was propped up on his forearm, staring at her with a heavy look. His damp hair was swept back from his face and she could see him clearly through hazy, lust-colored eyes. Her instincts told her to get angry, to make a snide comment towards him to diffuse the tension, but her jaw was locked tight. He angled his head slightly, a question.

“Are you trying to get off right now?”

There was that look again. The one where he looked like he knew something. It frustrated her in too many ways.

“Alex,” she started, voice breathy. “I will literally pay you to never talk about this.”

He didn’t seem phased. His gaze swept over her and she involuntarily bit her lip. His eyes jumped back up to hers and his expression smoothed itself out. He shifted, quiet in thought. When did her breath get so loud, her heart so fast?

“Do you want help?”

She rolled onto her back. The sheets felt too hot against her skin. She looked at his hands, the way his fingers curled. His eyes met hers, half-lidded and curious.

“...what?”

“I’m completely serious.”

His tone had a finality to it that had her shoving the sheets down to let her molten skin breathe. She searched his face. Whenever she found what she was looking for, she nodded.

He shook his head and pushed himself up to slowly lean his upper body over hers. His face hovered inches away from hers. His hand went to her bare shoulder and he thumbed along her collarbone. A small smirk formed.

“Use your words,” he said. “C’mon, we know you’re good with them.”

Her pride and her lust met in a lockup. His hand moved down from her collarbone to between her breasts, the strip of skin between her panties and tanktop. A trail of lightning followed and she arched up into him. The way he pressed into her side, she could feel how hard he was. The words that slipped through her lips caused him to groan. That and when her fingers went to the back of his head to tug at his hair.

“Alex,” she seethed. “Please.”

He grinned at her and when their lips collided, it wasn’t far off from their usual. A push and a pull, a test and a challenge. Teeth nipped skin and he tore the sheets off to settle on top of her, his knees by her hips. They broke apart long enough for him to pull her shirt off, to mark her chest with his mouth and the harsh scrape of his stubble as he shimmied down her body. As cool and collected as he was, the pulse of his hands around her hips told a different story. He lightly bit the soft part of her belly and glanced up at her when her knees fell apart in invitation.

“You know I still don’t like you, right?”

He smiled before he answered.

“Uh-huh. I sure do.”

His hot hands skimmed down her sides and tugged her panties off. Given that he knew what she was doing before, he didn’t waste time and got right to it. She appreciated that and told him as much with a low, soft moan when his tongue pressed into her. He didn’t stay there long and she glared at him. Was he fucking with her?”

“Get up,” Alex told her as he got up onto his knees. He grabbed her hand and pulled her to sit up. “I want you to sit on my face.”

She couldn’t even bark a laugh, too stunned at his sudden proclamation to make a nasty remark as she moved with him. His arms hooked under her thighs and pulled her close to his lips. Her nails cut lines into the headboard. She smirked down at him.

“I didn’t think the Dark Order were such giv--Oh fuck.”

Alex set back to what he was doing before in earnest, giving her no chance to complete her thought. For as much shit as he talked, she should have known he was good with his mouth. He played with her, strung her along, built her up then brought her back down. Her back arched when he sucked on her clit just right and a smug hum of satisfaction rumbled from his chest. One hand dropped from the headboard to thread itself into his hair and she leaned against the wood, her body taut.

“Alex, I’m c-close.”

Her voice was a hot whisper and she could barely tell that he nodded. Not until her first orgasm crashed through her and her thighs quivered, tightened around his head. Like an unexpected gentleman, he worked her through it and massaged her aching thighs. Her breath came back to her and her body went lax. He helped her down his body, her muscles warm and a bliss in her blood that made her all the more pliable in his hands. He set her back against the mattress and hovered over her again.

“Better?”

The complete nonchalance to the way he licked her off his lips as he sat up stoked another surge of heat in her. She reached for him and was stunned to see him move away. He smirked at her as he stood up, seemingly not caring about the fact that he was rock hard. Confusion flooded her face.

“What? Where are you going?”

“Bathroom. You were the one having trouble sleeping,” he said, that goddamn brow of his cocked again at her. Her eyes fell to look at his hips. Fuck, she really wanted to touch him and he knew it. Her nails scratched her palms. “Not me.”

“What?”

He leaned into her and kissed her long enough so she could taste herself. Then he pulled away and smiled at her. She seethed.

“Oh, you absolute bastard.”

“Uh-huh,” he said. His voice lowered and took on a conspiratorial tone. “We’re stuck here for two days. You gonna make it?”

He walked away and she watched him leave. But before he stepped into the bathroom and locked it, he glanced back at her.

“You’re welcome, by the way.”

[kiirokero]

Ataraxia (JJK)

Ataraxia: Calmness untroubled by mental or emotional disquiet; Tranquillity of mind.

Part of the Protect the Village! Oneshot Series.

Masterlist

Pairing: PoliceOfficer!Jungkook x Delinquent!Reader

Genre/Warnings: E2L (Enemies to Lovers), angst, fluff, humour, mentions of neglectful parents/childhood neglect, swearing, HPD-like behaviors/destructive attention-seeking behaviors, allusions to anxiety, read with caution on this one!

Note: I would die for RT and TITI :(

Summary: Graffiti isn’t that bad. It’s a misdemeanour in most places. So what if the rookie catches you tagging one night? You’ll wiggle your way out of it like you always do... Right?

Word Count: 5.3k

Semi-Unedited

      Night was when all your ideas came to you. In the late hours where the moon comes out to lull everyone asleep, you wander the night in search of an outlet. Backpack swung over your shoulder, paint cans rattling around, sweatshirt taut to your body to fight off the nighttime chill. You search the tiny village where you spent most of your life for the perfect canvas. 

     The only lights to aid you in your search are the dim lampposts that illuminate the sidewalk, but that doesn’t stop you from finding the jackpot. Blank, empty white wall, vast space to work on, flat. You could feel the anxious desire to pick up your paint cans on the tips of your fingers. Quickly, you put down your backpack and got out your colors. 

      Red, green, yellow, blue, black, pink, purple. All the colors you needed to make a stunning art piece. Sure, the shop owner might not appreciate it, but you only paint pretty things. You may be a “delinquent” but that doesn’t mean you have to spew hate and vulgarity to all of Bangtan Village. 

     What were you feeling tonight? Writing? Animals? Flowers? Flowers. Definitely flowers tonight. Wasting no time, you picked up a can and started spraying. Red here, green there, a bit of pink. You paint and paint and paint. Like your brain is on autopilot, letting your hand do whatever it wants. Left, right, up, down. You watch as your piece comes to life in front of you. Roses, daisies, marigolds. It looks like the garden of your mind. 

     Taking a step back, you admire your work. Clean lines, bright colors, eye-catching. You feel proud. This was better than the sketches. It captured your every breath, every emotion, a true piece of art. You felt at ease looking at the picture of all your pent-up emotions laid bare on the bricks. Expressing the sorrows that plagued your mind through the image of dull, weeping flowers. 

     Sure, it still looked beautiful. When you looked at it as one unit, it was the perfect image to be painted on a flower shop. But if you looked closer, you could see the anxiety in the shaky lines, the sorrow in the dulled colors, the anger in the frenzied coloring. But you didn’t feel like that at the moment. 

     Graffiti was an outlet for you. The ability to get people to pay attention and see what you’ve been trying to get people to see. To show people that you weren’t okay. You wanted someone-anyone- to listen to you, to see you. You wanted someone to look at you and see you as a person who was struggling. Because you really were struggling. 

     Shit parents and anxiety were the things that defined your life. Your life givers made it known to you that they really didn’t care what you did, where you were, who you were with, nothing. They weren’t terrible, luckily enough. They were just neglectful. They forgot you were there half the time, so you had to force yourself to grow up and do things on your own.

     You would cook your own meals, do your own laundry, make your own money. For as long as you remember, you were living as your own person. You brought yourself back up from the depths of panic and kissed your own wounds. You told yourself to suck it up and keep pushing. But soon enough you started to ask yourself exactly why you were still pushing.

    No friends, no family, not even an animal companion could give you the comfort you so desperately sought out for when the thoughts of “why?” clawed at your fragile mind late at night. When you felt like you couldn’t breathe when things went south. You tried. You tried to make friends. You tried to reach out. You tried to get help, but it was all the same. “Your fine, get over it,” Whether those were the exact words or the implied ones, that was the answer everyone gave you. 

“You’re an adult.”

“Everyone feels anxious, you’ll be okay,”

     No matter how hard you tried to use your words, to shout and scream on the rooftops that you needed support, big or small, nobody listened. It’s as the world went deaf to you. Like you were invisible, walking through the streets like a ghost. So you turned to more... Destructive ways of gaining people’s attention.

     Yes, you knew this was wrong. You knew that if you got caught, it would go on your record. But you didn’t care, not at this point. The thought of people seeing this in the morning and thinking about you (Well, not you specifically, but the person who’s been painting the town for months now) Excited you. Having people's attention excited you. Hearing people whisper about the delinquent who's been tagging Bangtan Village left and right made you giddy. Because you had their attention. 

     The sound of heavy footsteps tore through the tranquil bubble you’d put yourself in. “Shit...” You whispered to yourself, grabbing your things and sneaking away from your- admittedly pretty -crime. Because not only did you get the citizen's attention. You got the attention of the police department as well. 

    Steadily, you took silent footsteps as you weaved your way through the back alleys of the main street shops. You could still hear the boot falls of the person making their nightly rounds. Even if they sounded calm. You knew they were looking for you. You knew he was looking for you. 

    You made the haste decision to abandon your bag full of paint cans and respirator behind a dumpster, noting down its whereabouts so you could retrieve it in the morning. You knew that if you got caught with them in your possession, then they would no doubt charge you. So you were left with your sweatshirt and a heartbeat that pounded in your ears. 

      You continued to make your way through the back alley mazes. Navigating them on muscle memory. This wasn’t the first time you’d had to make a silent getaway. You could still hear the footsteps, they were getting heavier. Step... Step... Step... Your anxiety shot through the roof and you wiped your clammy hands on your worn out jeans. 

But then they stopped. 

      There was no more ominous pounding of boots against concrete. Just the ambiance of the crickets chirping their nightly melody. It was calm again. So when you saw an opening out onto the beginning of main street, you breathed a sigh of relief. Home was only a few yards away now. You could go home to your small, dingy apartment and sink into your tiny bed, dreaming of a better life. 

     What world would you escape to tonight? Would you go on your own adventure where your the loved main character? Would you explore what was underneath the sea and discover what laid dormant at the bottom of the ocean? What about dreaming of befriending your favorite comfort characters from your favorite shows? Finally, having friends for once. 

“L/n,”

     You jumped as a voice cut through your train of thought. Looking to your left you saw none other than Jeon Jeongguk leaning against the entrance of the alleyway, giving you a stern face. “Well, isn’t it the rookie? Did they put you on guard dog duty tonight?” You chuckled, regaining your composure and throwing on a mask of confidence. Jeongguk rolled his eyes and stood straight up, towering over you. 

      “What are you doing out so late, L/n?” Jeongguk asked you with a stoic face. “Going for a walk,” You answered, voice unwavering. “Oh really? So you know nothing about the recent act of vandalism on Yoongi’s flower shop, huh?” He tilted his head, talking to you as if you were five. “What? Another tagging? Crazy,” You said, in an feign surprised voice. 

      Jeongguk sighed, stepping away from you. “You’re coming with me, L/n,” Jeongguk deadpanned. Your eyebrows furrowed, and you looked at him incredulously. “What? But I didn’t do anything!” You complained, your poker face unbreaking. “Well, I have reason to suspect you know at least something. So by the laws our government has set up, I get to bring you to the station for questioning,” Jeongguk said in a sing-song voice. 

     “I feel like that’s an abuse of power,” You pointed out, crossing your arms. Jeongguk looked at you, unimpressed. “Public law number 130-13. Any suspect can be put in police custody as long as the officer has circumstantial or physical evidence proving they know or did something.” Jeongguk regurgitated like a parrot. You chucked, “Nerd,” 

     “Whatever, just come on.” Jeongguk groaned, and you reluctantly followed. You knew running would do nothing, it’s a small community, he’d find you in like, 5 minutes. And fighting him? Have you seen Jeongguk? That kid’s all muscle. A total gym rat. He could flick you and you’d get a concussion. You didn’t want to fight him anyway. So you had to follow him, but that didn’t mean you wanted to. 

      “Nice place you got here, Rookie,” You snickered, looking around the relatively small police station. Jeongguk sighed and led you to a small interrogation room. You say “interrogation” like it was intimidating, but nothing’s intimidating about a small room with metal tables and chairs. 

      You sat down on the opposite side of Jeongguk, giving him a smug smirk as he looked at you with disdain. “So... What’s up officer?” You asked, resting your head on the table. “What were you really doing out there, Y/n?” Jeongguk asked, huffing. “Like I said. I was taking a walk. Bangtan Village is nice, ya know?” You restated, not giving up the facade. 

     “I know you did it,” He deadpanned, leaning closer to you. “You see, Rookie... Public law number 130-6. Officers cannot make an arrest without physical evidence or a confession that proves the suspect is guilty without a reasonable doubt,” You stressed the last T, shit-eating grin still on your face. You sounded knowledgeable, but that was the only law you cared to memorize. “Aka. The law don’t give a shit what you think you know,” You sat back up, leaning in your chair. “That law's flawed,” Jeongguk complained. “Take that up with our mayor, Rookie,” 

“You’re insufferable,” Jeongguk spat. 

“I know,” You chuckled. 

      “Why’d you do it? You know canvases exist for a reason, right? Yoongi’s going to pay someone to cover it up.” Jeongguk asked, voice raising a few octaves. “Rookie, buddy, if your fishing for a confession. You ain’t gonna get one,” You snickered, tilting your head in a teasing manner. “Besides, whoever did it-has been doing this-makes pretty good artwork so...” You shrugged. “So you’ve seen the recent tagging on Yoongi’s store?” Jeongguk pried. “I never said that. I’ve seen their other things. Figured the art you're talking about, which I definitely haven’t seen, is just as good.” 

      Jeongguk looked like he wanted to hop across the table and strangle you. It was funny, really. Jeongguk was right, of course he was, but he could never prove it. You didn’t confess to anything, you hid the evidence well, nothing could connect you to the crime. This wasn’t first time Jeongguk tried to pry open your mind and get you to spill out an “I did it,” just to show his hyungs that he really could catch a criminal, just like them. 

Not that you’ll see a bunch of criminals in Bangtan of all places

     The only reason Jeongguk knows it was you (Therefore starting up this hilarious game of cat and mouse,) Was because he knew the kind of person you were. He’s known you since highschool. He would hear whispers in the hall about you and your trusty paint cans, tagging the principal’s prized Chevrolet with the words “Ya mom raised a nerd” because he pissed you off that one time. 

      You got away with it too. The principal never got wind of who did it. Even if everyone at school knew it was you. I mean, come on, who else carried black spray paint in their bookbag? Plus, not a lot of people come to Bangtan, therefore not a lot of delinquents with a taste for artful vandalism existed here. 

     “Listen Rookie, you have no proof that it was me. You interrogated, I answered. Now I get to go home,” You smiled, getting up from your seat. Jeongguk just tsked at you, rolling his eyes at your “friendly” wave goodbye. “Nerd,” You chuckled to yourself, skipping out of the police department. 

Today couldn’t get any worse.

     “But I already finished the piece! My policy states that the down payment isn’t refundable!” You let out a frustrated groan as the lady on the other side of the line complained that your policy was unreasonable and she should get her $150 dollars back because she wasn’t interested in the china set she commissioned from you anymore.

“Look, I don’t care what happened on your end. At the end of the day, I told you it wasn’t refundable, and you still paid it. You agreed to it. So either I can send you the set and you pay the rest of the amount we agreed on. Or I keep the $150, and you have no custom china set,” 

      Guess she really didn’t want that china set, since she huffed and said, “Fine, keep the damn glass,” Which set you off more because china is made of kaolin and quartz, delicately painted with subtle details. Not! Glass! It didn’t help that bills were coming up and you were tight on money this month. 

     Being a freelance artist is unstable. You knew this. You knew that there were other professions that you could throw yourself into that would give you a more stable form of income. But it would also chip away at your spirit. You loved painting, you loved pottery, you loved making porcelain. 

      Now you were stressed, anxious, and the owner of a china set fit for a 50-year-old lady. You wanted to cry. You felt like sobbing. What were you supposed to do now? The only other commission you had was a landscape portrait that costed only $160, and with bills coming you’d have like $60 to spend on food. 

      You covered your face with your hands as you started to breathe erratically. It felt like the walls were closing in on you. Like a snake was curling its way up your body and squeezing your throat. Shakily, you stood up on your wobbly legs and grabbed your bag full of spray paint that you recovered earlier in the day. You needed your outlet. 

      You ran out into the chilly night air, making your way towards main street to find something to paint your frustrations on. You needed to calm the sickly feeling that bubbled up in your throat, to throw water on the fire in the pit of your stomach that urged you to scream into the woods that surrounded the village. 

      Finally, you made it to an empty wall. The one on the side of “Kim’s Confections” that you painted a week ago. The owner painted over your image of the night sky, you guessed. It didn’t matter though, you were too focused on ripping open your bag and pulling out your paints. 

      What were you feeling tonight? Red. Okay, what’s red? Apples, flowers, fire. Fire, that’s it. What else... What does fire do? It burns. Yeah, lets burn shit. What shit are we burning? Uhh... Flowers? That works... 

      You quickly picked up your red paint can and started spraying. You had no idea what you were doing, this wasn’t in your sketchbook. This was purely a product of the emotions currently plaguing your mind. You could already tell it was going to be ugly... It looked like chaos incarnate, but it was an accurate picture of what you were feeling. 

    You furiously painted the wall with blobs of different colors that weren’t mixing well at all. Like yes, green and red are contrasting opposites, but they don’t mix well. And what was pink doing next to a neon orange? You didn’t know, you barely even cared.

However, you did care when you heard those same familiar footsteps. 

     “Why today, Jeon?” You huffed, packing your things and running off into the back alleys. What you didn’t expect was for the footsteps to start running with you. Panicking, you ran faster, focusing more on getting away than where you were going. 

     They were getting louder and louder, closer and closer. “Shit,” You whimpered to yourself when you came upon a dead end. The familiar feeling of tears pricked up in the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Thump... Thump... Thump... You refused to turn around to face the last person you wanted to see today. 

     “Well, we meet again L/n,” Jeongguk’s voice echoed off the bare brick walls. You said nothing, opting to continue looking at the wall in front of you. “Come on, L/n, it’s time to give it up,” He sighed, taking a few steps closer. “I know,” You whispered out, feeling the dread creep into your mind at the thought of your only outlet being taken away. 

Scratch that, today could get worse. 

      “I see you’ve got this place nice a cozy for me, Rookie,” You chuckled, holding onto the cell bars with two hands, trying to hide the fear you felt inside, the anguish. Like always, Jeongguk just rolled his eyes, laying back in the chair at his desk while he wrote up a report. 

      Jeongguk said nothing to you as the hours dragged on, and that made the situation worse. You would poke fun at him, call his name, you even asked how his day was. Nothing. You felt invisible all over again, and it made you even more scared. It was like you were that naïve six-year-old girl again, begging for an ounce of her parents' attention.

“Mom, I made you this today,”

“Dad, there's a father-daughter dance at school this Friday,”

Nothing. 

It was always nothing. 

     Because even if there was another body in the room, you felt alone again; you felt pathetic. Unwanted, unheard. At times like these you would paint a gigantic mural on the side of someone’s business on main street, but now you can’t. That’s what got you in this mess in the first place. All you wanted was somebody’s eyes on something that was you, whether that be your work or your features, and now that was yanked from your grasp.

      After this you couldn’t spray paint anymore, because then the entire police department would watch you like a hawk. Nobody would whisper about the mysterious pretty painting in the street anymore. And Jeongguk wouldn’t be the cat chasing the mouse anymore. 

      Jeongguk suddenly put his pen down with a huff, the action much louder in the quiet police station than it would be in a normal setting. “So, Y/n, I know you're not dumb. You’re obviously under arrest for vandalism. And with the severity and amount you committed, there's a $300 fine and a week of jail time,” Jeongguk explained, sounding bored. 

      Your eyes widened. “What? A week of jail time?” You exclaimed, feeling your heart drop. “Yep,” Jeongguk confirmed, popping the p. “No... No, Rookie, you can’t do this...” You whimpered out, trying to calm your breathing. You saw a look of sadness flash in Jeongguk’s eyes before he returned to a stoic state. “You’re the one who committed the crime, Y/n,” He stated, messing around with some papers. 

“Jeongguk please,” You begged, using his actual name for the first time since highschool. 

    Jeongguk paused, his back turned towards you and hand frozen in the motion of putting away a file. He took a deep breath and continued his movements. Going back to ignoring you. You felt dejected, so you gave up and slumped onto the small bed in the cell's corner. Just as you were about to close your eyes, you heard the slap of a book on the floor. 

     You looked over your shoulder to see Jeongguk at the door of your cell, giving you a tight smile. On the floor was what looked to be a sketchbook and some pencils. Cautiously, you got up from the bed and grabbed them, giving Jeongguk a curious look. 

“It’ll be okay,” He said. 

      Over the next few days, life fell into a routine. You would wake up, Jeongguk would give you breakfast, and you would draw in between meals. Nothing else. Sometimes you would try to strike up conversation with the stubborn police officer who kept you company most days, but he would either stay silent or reply with one-word answers. So you quickly gave up on that. 

      Sooner or later, the sorrow you felt turned into bitterness. You were mad at yourself, mad at the world, mad at Jeongguk. A week in jail? What was that supposed to do? Teach you a lesson? As if. If anything, it just made you want to do more illegal things as a big “Fuck you,” To the officers who walked past your cell with looks of pity on their faces. 

     Yes, people in Bangtan were overly nice, and no, you didn’t need their pity. You survived on your own long enough without anyone’s pity, so you didn’t need it now, when you were already fucked up. Where was this kindness when you cried to the school counselor about your home situation and she sent you away with the excuse that you were “Pms’ing” and “It wasn’t that bad” 

    You felt this boil in you every night and through the day. And it was still boiling in you when Jeongguk set you free and paid your fine. (Which made you angrier cause now your set back on bills AND food) “Don’t get into trouble,” Was the last thing he said to you. You knew his words should’ve made you angry, but knowing that you wouldn’t see him every day now made you... Sad...

      The world felt cold... Colors seemed to dull and noise seemed to be muffled everywhere you went. You felt, empty. Alone. Sad. You felt like you didn’t have a purpose now that you caught up on all your commissions and going out spray painting the town was an even more risky thing to do. On the bright side, you were able to pay your bills. 

      But that didn’t help the dread you felt when you woke up every single day. The bitterness was still there, but now it was buried with dread and trepidation. Sometimes the fire of your anger would burn bright, sometimes it was just embers. The intense mood swings you were feeling gave you emotional whiplash, and all you wanted to was lay in bed all day. 

“It’ll be okay,” 

     Jeongguk saying those words to you swirled in your head daily. They never left. Not since he first said that. You could hear the slight accent in his voice and see the slight squint in his nose when he speaks. That’s what fueled your fire the most. He did nothing for you. Why are you giving him the time of the day? He locked you up. 

     But there was also this voice that reminded you of the playful bickering the two of you shared, the sparks in your eyes when the two of you looked at each other, your game of cat and mouse. It told you that if you tried, maybe he could be your friend. Maybe he could help you. He’s a police officer, he’d want to help anyone... Right?

But if he wanted to help you, why would he lock you in a jail cell?

   That bitterness and conflict in your mind led you here, to an empty wall. Why were you here? Why did you have a spray paint can in your hand? Why were you painting again? Why Y/n, why? No matter how loud the angel on your shoulder screamed at you to go home, do something better with your life, be something better. It fell on deaf ears. 

      Not even the crickets were chirping as those boot falls made their way towards you. Nothing but the spray of your paint and the thud of Jeongguk’s steel-toed boots fill the surrounding night. Jeongguk only sighed in disappointment when he saw you standing there. Waiting for you to turn to him before he said anything. 

      “Isn’t it the Rookie...” You muttered. The same teasing words were there, but they lacked the enthusiasm. “What are you doing, Y/n?” Jeongguk asked, still sounding very unimpressed. 

“Your smart Rookie, what does it look like I’m doing?” 

“What I told you not to do,”

“Ding ding! We have a winner,” You exclaimed sarcastically. 

“Did you really not learn your lesson?”

     You scoffed, “Learn my lesson?” You stopped painting and turned towards Jeongguk. “Learn my lesson? What exactly did you do to teach me a lesson?” You scowled. “Was a week in jail not enough?” He retorted, and you felt yourself boil over.

      “Listen here, Jeon. Do you know what that week really did to me? It made me bitter. It made me feel like shit, like I was back living with my parents,” You spat. Jeongguk’s face fell at the mention of your parents. He knew what you went through, everyone knew. Bangtan was a small village, after all. “I mean come on, you really think locking me up behind bars is going to change me? Look at where I am Jeon! In the same goddamn alley doing the same shit cause I didn’t learn my lesson!” You ranted, and you felt tear prick at the corner of your eyes. You couldn’t stop them from overflowing this time. 

      “Police officers are supposed to help people, ya know. You don’t just catch criminals, you should help them. You wanna know the best way to prevent people from becoming re-offenders? Helping them!” You cried, throwing your paint can on the ground. “But no, you just care about handing in that report, huh? You caught me! Now you want nothing to do with me! I get it Jeon, really. Nobody wants anything to do with me...” You sniffled, feeling your anger dissipate. 

     Jeongguk looked like a kicked puppy. He didn’t know what to do when you started crying, but he knew that he needed to do something. “Y/n...” He said, reaching out for you, but you backed away. “Don’t... Just go away,” You said, but you didn’t really mean it. No, you wanted Jeongguk to come closer, to help you, to tell you it was okay again. Luckily, he understood that. 

      While you were wiping the tears away from your face, Jeongguk pulled you into a hug. At first you struggled, trying your best to get away from the muscle bunny, but soon you relented, falling into the comfort that his muscular arms offered you. “I’m sorry,” He whispered to you, squeezing you tight. “You’re right, I should be helping. Let me start by helping you,” 

    You sniffled, pulling away from his chest to look up at him. “Help me? I’m a lost cause,” You croaked, but Jeongguk shushed you, pulling you back in. “My friend goes to this therapist, he says they’re great, maybe they can help you,” He offered. 

“Maybe they can,” 

      “You're a pain in my ass, you know that Hobi?” You groaned, squinting at the laughing red-head who was currently sitting across from you in your studio. “But it’s too funny. I mean, a delinquent falling in love with a police officer? A classic,” He teased. You just rolled your eyes, bringing your focus back to the pot you were working on. “I’m not in love,” You retorted. 

      Hoseok snickered, “You remember what Dr. Choi said about lying to ourselves?” You wanted to strangle the shit-eating grin he had on his face, but you opted to huff and show your disdain instead. “Sometimes I wish you weren’t in my group therapy sessions,” You complained, but that smile never left Hoseok’s face. 

      After that night in the alley with Jeongguk, he lived up to his words. He introduced you to your current therapist Dr. Choi and got you the help you needed. Soon enough, you were slowly getting better. Your desire for graffiti slowly dissipated, and you opted for a canvas. It was easier to sleep at night, and Dr. Choi introduced you to a support group. Which is how you met your friend, Hoseok. 

      But Jeongguk still stuck with you. He would check up on you every day and keep you company when he had the time. Recently he’s been showing up at your place with cupcakes from Taehyung’s bakery, (You recently learned his name and he admitted your paintings were cool, but they didn’t fit his aesthetic) Sometimes you’d even visit the station, dropping off lunch for him. 

    Jeongguk and you became quick friends. Besides the ironic differences between the two of you, you also had a lot in common. You’d have movie/video game nights, sometimes you’d let him paint with you, he even introduced you to his other friends (All six of them,) Outside of work, he let down the intimidating police man facade and became a lovable bunny. 

Maybe a bit too loveable, since you seemed to like Jeongguk a bit too much these days. 

    “How would I even tell him? “Hey! It’s me, Y/n! Delinquent turned mural artist who has a huge crush on you! The police officer who arrested me and put me in jail!” Ha, no.” You dramatically exaggerated with your hands. “Oh come on Y/n! He’s pining over you too!” Hoseok said, trying (and failing) to convince you. “Didn’t you write that love letter to him? Why not give him that?” Hoseok suggested. You immediately cringed, hiding your face in your hands. “No way, that’d be so embarrassing,”

“So your saying that if I ran over to the police station with this slip of paper and handed it to Jeongguk you’d never forgive me?” Hoseok asked, holding up the infamous love letter you wrote for Jeongguk 3 weeks ago.

“You wouldn’t dare,” You glared at him.

“Y/n... You’ve been debating telling him for months...” Hoseok groaned, “Maybe you just need a little... Push!” He said, jumping out of his seat and running out the door. 

      “Jung Hoseok, I’m going to kill you!” You yelled, running after him. Unfortunately he was like, 90% legs so it was hard to even keep a foot’s distance between the two of you. “Hobi! He’ll hate me!” You whined, huffing a puffing. You really needed to get back in shape. “No he won’t! He literally talks about you all the time! I’m doing you idiots a favor!” Hoseok yelled back, bursting his way into the police station. 

    “Jeon Jeongguk!” Hoseok called, getting weird looks from the other officers. Jeongguk’s head popped up from his desk and he got up to see what his friend wanted. Not before you tackled Hoseok to the ground, however. The paper flew out of Hoseok’s hand as he fell to the ground with an “Oof”

      Jeongguk looked at the two of you with a smile, choking down his laughs as he picked up the paper. “Don’t read it!” “Read it!” You and Hoseok said at the same time. But Jeongguk’s nosy self had already opened it and was reading the words. You groaned and hid your face in Hoseok’s shoulder out of embarrassment. Jeongguk just chuckled, leaning down to give you a kiss on the cheek. “Let’s go to dinner after I’m done here, yeah?” He said, giving you a wink as he walked away. 

“What just happened,” You asked, putting your hand up to your cheek. 

“You just started a new chapter in your life. This one titled “Me and Jeongguk, the most cliche shit I’ve ever seen,” Hoseok smiled, patting your head.

“Shut up... I got a mural to spray paint,”

[jenoptimist]

you may have only gotten half a pudding cup but you got yourself a real life Disney Prince, so who’s the real winner?

✮ Pairing: kunhang x reader (gender neutral)

✮ Genre: fluff

✮ Word count: 5.8k

♡ Yakult says: hendery!!!!in!!glasses!!!!!!! pls i love him sm 🥲

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There was a phone number in you calculus textbook that you were one hundred percent sure you never wrote down. Not that you could, anyway, considering that it was a library book. Well, no, techincally you could write it in but you wouldn’t dare. The longer you stared at the handful of digits, the more you freaked out. You absolutely could not afford to be fined! The whole reason why you borrowed it from your college library was so that you didn’t have to spend money in the first place!

After gathering your materials and stuffing them into your bag, you hurriedly left your local library. You fished your phone out of your pocket, scrolled through your – admittedly pathetically short – list of contacts and called the person who you suspected wad the source of your small dilemma.

“‘Sup?” Yangyang greeted.

“Be honest with me,” you said seriously, immediately cutting to the chase, “were you the one who wrote the number?”

There was a beat of silence, and then, “what number?”

“You know,” you urged as you neared the apartment complex that the two of you lived in. “The one in my calculus textbook? I borrowed it from the college library and I don’t want to get into shit if they find it.”

“That wasn’t me!”

“Oh really?” You asked in disbelief as you hopped into the elevator and punched the number to your floor. After what you dubbed as, ‘The Spaghetti Incident of 2018’ you could never be too sure with him. When he replied that he didn’t, you asked him another two times. Throughout your friendship with Yangyang, you found that the trick to getting him to admit the truth was to keep badgering him until he either: got fed up or thought that whatever he did was no longer funny.

“I swear on my Hot Wheels!”

You hummed in consideration. His Hot Wheels collection was his utmost pride and joy - second only to his large sneaker collection - especially since he owned a handful of exclusive and rare ones. They were all displayed neatly on several shelves on one of the walls in his bedroom. They were even color coordinated and everything! Sometimes, when you went to offer him some food, you found him staring at them with a wide smile, his eyes full of admiration.

“Oh,” you frowned as you grabbed your keys from your jacket pocket but before you could slot your key into the lock, the door opened. Yangyang, the dork, greeted you over the phone even though he stood in front of you, a boyish grin displayed on his face. You rolled your eyes, not able to smother your smile as you hung up and stepped inside, locking the door behind you. It was noticeably warmer than usual and the apartment smelled if something toasty, which only meant one thing. “Pizza?” You guessed confidently.

Just as he gave you an affirmative, the oven began beeping to signal that it was finished. As Yangyang brought everything to the coffee table in front of your couch, you slipped off your shoes, dropped your bag and shrugged your coat off. While he cut the pizzas into almost even slices, you grabbed two cans of soda from the fridge.

Although it was still piping hot, you couldn’t help but take big bites. Your slice of doughy goodness was diminished within seconds. Solving calculus problems did thay to you. It was your least favorite module of the semester and brought on a headache whenever you left your lectures.

“This is so good.” You remarked as you took another slice. You loved a good margherita from Dominos but there was nothing like a frozen pizza from your local supermarket—the additives was probably what made it delicious, the cheap price just happened to be a bonus. Yangyang definitely felt the same, seeing as how the two of you devoured both pizzas within minuts, silence taking over the room.

You took a sip of your soda after popping open the top. “I”–you didn’t like the mischief that danced in uour room-mate’s eyes–“dare you to call the number.”

In your haste to swallow it, the soda passed through your throat uncomfortably, as if it were a large stone. “Nuh-uh.” You said with a shake of your head. There was absolutely no way you were going to call that number! You were just going to forget that it was even there. Or maybe you would return the book and hope that the next unfortunate student who will borrow it would be the one to pay whatever fine they had for ‘defacing public property’, as the college liked to call it. You didn’t know how many people had a calculus module in their course but you sure hoped that it was a large number.

“Awh come on, y/n!” At the firm shake of your head, he folded his arms and pouted slightly. A moment of silence passed and then, “I’ll give you a twenty.”

You took another sip of your soda as you mulled it over. “How about a ten and your last mango pudding cup for a text?”

Yangyang sucked a breath through his teeth. “That’s a tough bargain.” You shrugged, he hogged the other five pudding cups for himself so if he really wanted you to call this mystery person, he would have to give up the remaining one. “Okay, what if I give you fifteen and we split the pudding cup.”

“Better than nothing.” You conceeded after a second of thinking it over.

Yangyang’s grin stretched from ear to ear as he held out his hand for you to take. Once you shook it, the two of you quickly cleaned up. Not even ten minutes later, the last pudding cup and two spoons were on the table along with the textbook, opened on the page with the number on it. Yangyang leaned closer to your shoulder, his head practically resting on top of yours as he watched you type in the number and text.

to: 13X XXXX XXXX

hey! i found ur number on a textbook i borrowed from the library so i thought i’d say hi i guess?

“Now we wait.” Yangyang said as he returned to his seat and opened the pudding cup. He handed you your spoon and the two of you dug in, eventually fighting for the last bit.

The reply came when you and Yangyang were watching Into The Spiderverse. Neither of you paused the movie when you heard the notification sound your phone let out—you had seen it countless times; twice when it was in cinemas and every so often whenever it was on Netflix.

You were slightly nervous about the reply, which was silly considering that you didn’t even know the person, but you opened up the text anyway so that it would be over and done with.

from: 13X XXXX XXXX

Hi. My friend just told me he wrote it in there before I transferred. I’d be grateful if you could rub it out or use correction tape to get rid of it. Also, please delete my number.

You pursed your mouth at the response. It wasn’t as if you were hoping to be best friends or anything but the prospect of befriending someone had definitely excited you. You had college friends but that was liferally what they were: friends who you only saw in college. None of them hung out with you outside of college and whenever you did offer, they would either say yes to humour you – which, unfortunately, was blatantly obvious – or came up with an excuse. Which sucked, for obvious reasons but you would survive. The only people you had actually managed to successfully befriend were Yangyang (because he was looking for a room-mate at the time) and his best friend, Dejun.

“Uh-oh,” came Yangyang’s voice. “What did they say?” He was quick to read the text after you turned your phone to show him the screen. “Whoever it is, they’re very, um,” he paused for a moment while he thought of a fitting description, scratching his head, “grammatically correct?” At your nod of agreement, he added, “at least he said ‘please’.”

You shrugged as you typed a quick reply. “I guess.”

to: 13X XXXX XXXX

sure thing

from: 13X XXXX XXXX

Thank you.

The two of you refocused your attention to the movie, the texts completely forgotten once you received his reply. Later that night, you did as you were requested and used correction tape to hide the number—which was written in neat, tiny green ink. You were aware that covering the numbers in correction tape would also be considered as ‘defacing public property’ too, but it was for the sake of the stranger’s privacy. It seemed as though you were the fiest to contact the number but, still, if you were in their position, you wouldn’t like your number to be in public property either.

As for the text, you took a screenshot of it for Yangyang, who asked for it so that he could show Dejun while he typed away in your groupchat, and then erased the number from your phone.

*

Two weeks later, you found yourself sitting at the study desk in your room, staring helplessly at the blank answer boxes of the calculus assignment you had been told to complete and submit before the end of next week. You wanted to cry in frustration as you redirected your gaze down to your notebook where you had been trying to solve the equations. The entire page was a mess and your desk was coverd with eraser bits. It had gotten to the point where some parts of the page had gone grainy, like it always did when you repeatedly erased something on the same area. There wasn’t a single problem that you managed solve—no matter how hard you tried. It was pathetic, really.

With a sigh, you decided to take the break that you had put off, not wanting to take one until you solved a problem (ha!) as a reward. Maybe you would rewatch the entire Twilight saga again (Dejun had managed to convince you to read the series a couple of months back and the movies had become something like a guilty pleasure of yours,) because it was clear that you were going absolutely nowhere.

Just as you had started Eclipse, you heard the door open but didn’t bother moving from your spot. In fact, you hadn’t moved since you started your movie marathon a few hours ago because you were all too comfortable buried inside your fluffy blanket on the couch.

“Perfect timing!” Dejun’s rich voice bellowed, “it just started.” There was the sound of socked feet running towards the couch and then he lifted your legs, sat down and laid them down on top of his lap.

“Hey Dejun.” You greeted, raising your hand for a high five.

When he slapped his palm against yours, he asked, “how’re you doing?”

Just as you opened your mouth to answer, Yangyang spoke up. “Judging from the Twilight marathon that’s going on,” there was a hissing sound of a can opening and the audible sound of him taking a quick sip of whatever canned beverage he was holding, “not very good.”

“Hey!” You exclaimed but your your friend only shrugged, smiling amusedly. “He’s right though,” you grumbled, “I’m really struggling with calculus at the moment.” Struggling was an understatement. You really wanted to pass it because you definitely didn’t want to repeat the exam. That would be a nightmare.

Dejun looked at you sympathetically before he made an affronted noise in his throat, one that you felt deeply in your soul as he turned to face Yangyang. “The Twilight saga is a cinematic masterpiece and you absolutely cannot change my mind.”

“Okay,” the blond replied, clearly up for the challenge. “But it’s not better than Shrek now, is it?”

“Shrek?” Dejun repeated incredulously. “Shrek is an iconic classic but the Twilight saga? Definitely on a different wavelength. The scene in New Moon where Bella just sits on her chair looking out the window soullessly? Perfection! It was a fantastic book to movie adaptation. And don’t even get me started on—”

“As thrilling as your debate is becoming,” you said, interrupting the point that the brunet was about to make, “I’d really love to continue the movie so I can hear young BooBoo Stewart say, ‘newest, bestest, brightest’ to help me feel a crumb of joy.” You were unable to find it in yourself to feel guilty about cutting in. They could take their debate somewhere else while you continued to wallow in your feelings of failure.

The pair read your mood easily and shrugged at one another in concession. Dejun patted your leg lightly in comfort as Yangyang jumped on the couch to sit on your other side, giving you a quick side-hug before focusing on the movie. It was silent up until Rosalie finished telling Bella her the story about her past.

“I’ve been thinking,” Dejun spoke up.

“Uh-oh.” Yangyang muttered playfully to you, his voice purposefully loud. You huffed out a laugh before lightly digging your elbow into his side, knowing that he’s had an awful share of ideas in the past.

Dejun stuck his tongue out at him but continued with what he began saying instead of retaliating. “Why don’t you text that person? The one whose number was in the textbook you borrowed? They must have done the module or something.”

You considered what he said seriously, even pausing the movie so that you could discuss it with him. “What if they didn’t though? What if it was their friend who borrowed the textbook? They did say that it was their friend who wrote it there.”

“Then you could just ask their friend for help.” Yangyang piped up. It was a statement that you couldn’t counter but that didn’t mean that you wouldn’t try to.

“I don’t have their number anymore,” you said to them. “They asked me to delete it, remember?”

“And that’s where you’re wrong,” Dejun told you as he reached into one of the pockets of his jeans and fished out his phone. Yangyang leaned over slightly and the two of you watched as Dejun quickly swiped his finger up his phone. “Here you go!” He said brightly, turning his phone so that you were facing the screen. And there it was: the screenshot that Yangyang asked you to take so that he could send it to Dejun. There was no way you could weasel your way out of this situation now.

“Okay,” you relented, “I’ll text them after we finish this saga.”

“If you text them after this movie, I’ll pay for take-out.” Yangyang bribed, eager for this idea to take place.

You weighed out the pros and cons briefly before agreeing with him. It would be a win-win situation: you would get take-out and a possible tutor. It seemed as if time moved quicker because the movie felt as though it finished within a few minutes. As Yangyang dialed the number for a local take-out place, you slowly typed out a text, him and Dejun watching you with hawk eyes.

to: 13X XXXX XXXX

hi! it’s me again. i know you don’t know me but could you please help me with calc? or your friend, whoever borrowed the textbook. please. i feel like my brain is melting

You flung your phone on the table, laid back down on the sofa and released a long sigh. It would be a lie if you said that you weren’t hoping that they would say yes. You were trying your best but it was as if your brain refused to coorperate with you when it came to calculus. If only Yangyang or Dejun were enrolled in the same course as you. It was often that you thoughr that wistfully, especially during times such as this.

It was when you were about to shove a huge lump of lo mein into your mouth that your phone lit up, indicating that you received a notification. You stuffed the noodles into your mouth and grabbed your phone off of the table, dropping your wooden chopsticks into the rest of your dish.

“What did they say?” Dejun asked as he bit into an egg roll.

“Depends,” you read out. “Would I get paid for it?” You practically exclaimed the last part. It was fair that they were wondering about payment after all, who would want to tutor for free? The thought of the amount in your bank account had you cringing, you couldn’t afford to pay for a tutor at the minute. Although, you couldn’t afford to fail your module, either. So it was a lose-lose sotuation. You sighed before shoving another chopstick full of noodles into your mouth as you thought of a reply, eyes never leaving your screen. “How can I say, ‘no I cant’t but I really need your help’ without sounding desperate?”

“You can’t.” Yangyang replied matter-of-factly, chewing on his mapo tofu.

to: 13X XXXX XXXX

no but u’d have my gratitude forever???????

from: 13X XXXX XXXX

Oh.

[typing. . .]

I’ll have to think about it.

[typing. . .]

Just kidding! I’ll help you out, free of charge. Would you like to do it over the phone or meet IRL?

You cheered loudly when their last text delivered. “I’m guessing they said yes?” Dejun said, smirking smugly. You nodded, grinning widely as your fingers flew on the keyboard in your phone.

to: 13X XXXX XXXX

omg ur a lifesaver!!!!! maybe over the phone?? it’ll probably be more convenient foe the both of us :)

from: 13X XXXX XXXX

Gotcha. We can discuss our schedule sometime tomorrow.

*

Your tutor, Wong Kunhang, was surprisingly really helpful. He was much more friendly than you thought he would be, immediately introducing himself after greeting you over the phone. For the entire three hours that the two of you were on the phone, he was nothing but the epitome of patience. Not only that, but he explained everything in a way that you could easily understand and even cracked a lame joke or two to break the tension whenever he noticed that you were becoming incredibly frustrated. By the end of the session, you felt microscopically better about calculus. While you couldn’t say that you were especially ecstatic for the upcoming lectures and assignments, it was safe to say that, while you had a long way to go, things were sort of looking up.

from: Wong Kunhang (tutor)

Same time next week?

to: Wong Kunhang (tutor)

definitely!!

[typing. . .]

also if ur comfortable with it can we pls video chat instead?? i think it would be much quicker than us sending each other pictures back and forth

from: Wong Kunhang (tutor)

That’s a good idea! I can’t believe we didn’t think of it earlier ahahaha.

*

As you worked through the practice problems that Kunhang prepared for you, you couldn’t help but sneakily stare at your phone to catch a glimpse of him repeatedly. It sure came as a surprise when it came time for the video call and you found yourself face to face with a Disney Prince who came to life. There was no other way to sum up how handsome he was. He somewhat reminded you of Prince Eric—what with his black hair, wide, bright eyes and kind smile. It wasn’t as if you thought or expected that he would he unnattractive. In fact, you hadn’t really wondered about what he would look like at all since you had a long list of priorities. None of which included thinking about whether or not you would find your tutor attractive.

But still. Kunhang was definitely one of those people who were blessed with beauty and brains. One of the Universe’s favorites, if you will.

“You good? Are you stuck on something?” You started at Kunhang’s voice, eyes flying from your phone to your page and back to meet his expectant look. You murmured a negative and resolutely kept your gaze on your work for the next half an hour to avoid a repeat of what had just jappened.

*

After nearly two months, the tutoring session had become a bi-weekly thing. Sort of. Somewhere in between you whining about every question but toughing it out and him encouraging you while also lightly teasing you, you and Kunhang became friends. One of the two sessions somehow always ended up with the both of you chatting, completely abandoning the unsolved equations in favor of getting to know one another, or, mostly recently, switching back and forth between the show that the two of you suggested to one another.

This week you would be tuning into his suggestion, Love Death + Robots. Kunhang would talk every now and again during some parts, especially when it came to his favorites, but you found that you didn’t really mind. Not when he sounded so (adorably) excited about it. The series itself was pretty good so far albeit short – six episodes in total, and the two of you were already on the fourth one – which meant that the you that you recommended (The Office because you were astounded that he hadn’t watched at least one episode) would soon become the primary source of entertainment since the two of you were only on season three.

As you stood in the snacks aisle, internally debating one which type of popcorn you should purchase (salted or buttered? the microwaveable kind or loose kernels? also, which brand? there were so many options, maybe too many,) your phone vibrated in your pocket. Swapping your basket from your non-dominant hand to your dominant one, you pulled out your phone and answered it.

“Hello?”

“Hey!” Kunhang greeted back brightly, “uh, so listen, I know we have our thing later but one of my sisters is moving out of her apartment and she asked me to help. Is it okay if we cancel?” The poor guy sounded super apologetic.

“Yeah, totally! Help her out!”–briefly, you thought about offering your assistance before deciding against it because that would be awkward and weird. Weirdly awkward. Awkwardly weird. Whatever–“I mean, it’s not like what we do is a set thing, anyway. I’ll probably ask the guys to hang out instead.” You eyed your basket full of snacks and made a mental note to grab the particular brand of potato chips that Dejun liked, already predicting that he would agree.

The silence that followed seemed to stretch on for hours on end. You would have assumed that the line dropped or went dead for some reason but you could definitely hear some shuffling sounds on the other side and, in a totally non-creepy way, Kunhang’s breathing.

“Right,” he finally replied, drawling the word out. There was another silence that felt extremely awkward. You wondered what facial expression he was making at the moment. It could have possibly clued you into what he as thinking. “Well that’s all I wanted to say I guess.”

“Oh,” you mumbled and then after a beat, you followed up with, “do you prefer salted or buttered popcorn? I’m trying to choose right now but I can’t decide.”

“Definitely salted. Buttered always leaves my mouth feeling weird.” You hummed while trapping you phone in between your ear and shoulder so that you could grab the generic box brand of microwaveable salted popcorn. The conversation carred on without anymore awkward pauses. You picked up a couple of items that he recommended every now and again, trusting his judgement. “Hey, you know what we should do?” Kunhang said as you queued up for the self-service checkout line, eyeing the items on display. When you hummed in response, he followed with, “we should hang out next week. In real life. We could do it on Sunday so you’ll still have one day of tutoring.”

It felt somewhat embarrassing that you agreed so quickly to his suggestion. You definitely should have played it cool but you had been meaning to ask him the same thing for a while now, so you were glad that he suggested it. “We can meet up at a café or something! Maybe have lunch? I’m paying, though!” It was only fair since he was helping you out for free.

“Lunch sounds good.”

“Great!”

“Great!” Kunhang mimicked, just as enthusiastically. “I’ve got to go but I’ll text you later?”

Both of you said your goodbyes then hung up. After tucking your phone back into your pocket, you made your way to the till that just freed up and began scanning your items. Once everything was paid for and bagged, you retrieved your phone to shoot a quick text in the group chat with Yangyang and Dejun, asking them if they felt like watching a movie franchise with you. They agreed, but only after Yangyang asked if ‘you’re weekly date with Kunhang got cancelled’ which earned him a picture of you flipping him off.

*

“Today’s the big date, huh?” Yangyang asked teasingly as you checked your appearance in the mirror once more, sprawled out on the couch as he made his way through his third mango pudding cup. From beside him, Dejun and Yukhei – the newest addition to your friend group since he and Dejun had to do an assignment together – gave your form an assessing once over.

Dejun, smiling mischievously, said, “obviously, can’t you tell by how nicely they’re dressed.”

You mock glared at the pair while Yukhei lightly slapped Dejun for his comment. Then he, bless his heart, beamed at you and said, “you look great!”

“Thank you,” you replied, smiling sweeting at him before addressing the other two, you firmly said, “and it’s not a date. We’re just hanging out, like the three, now four”–you corrected, glancing over at Yukhei–“of us do on a regular basis.”

“Oh, are they just a friend from your course then or something?” Yukhei asked curiously while Dejun and Yangyang hummed in unison, disbelief clear in their tones.

“No, it’s this guy, he helps me out with calculus. We’ve never met in person but he’s really nice.”

“I should hope so,” muttered Yangyang, peeling the seal off another mango pudding cup. “You’ve been crushing on him for a while now, so it would be a bummer if he wasn’t.” He said through a mouthful.

“Am not!”

“Are too!” Dejun countered for him.

“Am not,” Yangyang mimicked. “So what about all the times you’ve mentioned him then, huh?” And then he placed his pudding cup on the table, clasped his hands together by his cheeks and, in a voice that was meant to sound like yours, said, “‘oh, Kunhang told me this stuff is really good, we should try it out!’, ‘Kunhang is so smart!’, ‘can you believe Kunhang volunteers at the animal shelter and the nursery home as much as he can? Isn’t that so sweet?’, ‘Kunhang has such a Disney Prince smile!’. You gush about him all the time, it’s kinda sickening.”

You threw your arm out at him as you looked towards Dejun, hoping for some back up but you should have known better. They were your best friends after all. Dejun simply shrugged as he snatched a pudding cup from the coffee table and said, “to be fair, you do gush about him a lot. And! Whenever you text him, which most of the time, you get this goofy smile one your face.”

“Huh,” Yukhei mumbled, his tone full of thought. “This guy sounds a lot like one of my buddies.” The three of you looked at him with wide, curious eyes. When he noticed, he added, “it’s probably just a coincidence?” Although his tone suggested otherwise.

“Probably,” you replied as you grabbed your keys and shoved them in your pocket. “I’ve gotta get going or else I’ll be late.” You said as you made a beeline towards the door and slipped on the shoes you thought best suited your outfit. “Don’t wait up!”

“Why?” Yangyang replied just as you were about to close the door, playfulness evident in his voice, “I thought it was just lunch.” The other two cackled at that but you flipped him off and left the apartment, trusting that one of them would like the door behind you.

It was fortunate that you managed to catch the bus on time. After paying the appropriats fare, you made your way towards the back, earphones plugged in so that you could listen to some music along the way. Once seated, you took out your phone sent a text to Kunhang to let him know that you were on your way. His response was immediate, informing you that he was already nearby because his sister had asked him to run an errand for her, and asked you to text him when you were close.

Horizon was a cute little place that served as both a café and restaurant. It was sandwiched between a thrift shop and music store but, surprisingly, didn’t look the least bit out of place among the buildings. As you walked closed to it, you saw Kunhang standing by the entrance, bopping his head as he used his phone.

“Kunhang!” You called when you were close enough, after taking off your earphones and stuffing them into your pocket. Judging from the way he jolted slightly, you startled him. “Hey,” you greeted warmly when he removed his earphones. “You could have waited inside.”

Kunhang shrugged, a brilliant smile etched onto his face, “I thought it’d be easier if we walked in together.”

When you entered, you thought that you would have to find somewhere else to eat due to the amount of people present, but the staff who was waiting by the door only asked if you were eating in and then lead you to a table in the far corner of the room, right beside the window.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, y’know, in person.” Kunhang said as he browsed through the menu.

“You too,” you replied, peeking up from your own menu to find him wearing a hint of a smile. “I can’t believe it took us this long to be honest.”

Kunhang chuckled at that and nodded in agreement.

The meal seemed to fly by even though you left Horizon a little later than expected. You were still laughing as you headed out, thanking the waiter that served you one more time as you passed by him, at a story that Kunhang recounted that took place during his childhood. Although his texting style suggested otherwise, Kunhang was hilarious—which you knew already since he often made you laugh whenever you were on the phone with him, it was just a different feeling compared to the experience in person. You were almost sad at the thought of your time being over with him, until he jammed his hands into his pockets and, rocking back and forth on his herl, asked if you wanted to go get some ice cream since he knew a really good place nearby. And who were you to say no to that offer?

After fighting, again, over who would pay, the two of you roamed around for a bit, slipping into this store and that to window shop. Only when the stores began to close did you realize how late it had gotten. It wasn’t dark out, not yet, and you were surprised that several hours had passed since you first met up with Kunhang.

“Ready to call it quits?” You asked as the two of you began to make your way to where you would wait for your bus.

Kunhang shook his head and pointed somewhere behind you. “Let’s go to the playground over there. Race you.” And with that, he took off, leaving you to stare at him dumbfoundedly until your brain registered what he said and you ran after him.

“Cheater!” You huffed when you reached him, hands on your knees as you caught your breath.

Kunhang did nothing but through his head back and laugh at you. Attractively. It was something to ignore—his attractiveness, that was. But it was awfully difficult and all you could do was hope that he didn’t notice how you were looking at him. You couldn’t help it! Even though his outfit was relatively basic – just some gray-brown sweatshirt, black joggers and a pair of white sneakers – he looked effortlessly good. And it wasn’t just his appearance that made him attractive, either, oh no, because that just wasn’t enough. He also had to have an amazing personality.

“Let’s go over there,” he said after he sobered up, nodding towards the spring riders. “No racing this time.” He added with a wide grin. You weren’t able to suppress your own grin quick enough, rolling your eyes as you shoved his shoulder.

“I’m glad we met up today,” you admitted sincerely as you rocked back and forth on the spring ride. “You’re even better in person.”

Kunhang stopped rocking on his spring ride and looked at you. “I’m glad we met up today, too.” He told you with a smile that turned into one that was more sweet and shy as he said, “we should do it again some time, y’know, when we aren’t flooded with assignments and stuff.”

“Totally!”

“How about, maybe,”–Kunhang’s tongue darted out a sliver of his to wet his lips–“as a date?”

You stared at him in shock which he met head-on, that sweet, shy smile of his still present. You could feel a smile threaten to rise and you allowed it, messing with the hem of your top as you nodded in agreement. “That would be nice.”

“Really?” He asked, his tone both excited and unbelieving. When you assured him that you would be really looking forward to it, he said, “that’s– that’s great! I can’t wait, either.” Then, he jumped of his spring ride, held out his hand and pressed a feather light kiss to your knuckles like the Disney Prince he was when you placed your hand in his.

“We should probably head home.” You said, hand still in his. Kunhang never let go, so you figured he was okay with you interlocking your fingers and swinging your hands back and forth.

Like the gentleman he was, he waited for your bus with you and waited until you got on it, blowing kisses at you through the window. Your smile was so big your cheeks began to hurt as you pretended to catch the kisses.

(Later, after you had told Yangyang about how the day went swimmingly, you received a text from Kunhang and couldn’t help but huff out a small laugh. Your room-mate shot you a curious look so you let him read the text.

from: kunhang 💘

You know Yukhei?!?!?!!!!)

[cakesunflower]

Fateful Commute [C.H.] One Shot

A/N: This was meant to be split up into 3 parts but it’s like 5.3k words long which, if you know me, is kinda short for me lmao dkjgndfjk so i just decided to put it all together. This idea kind of came to me at like 3 in the morning which is when i started writing it so like.....yeah enjoy hehe

#1: Silent Strangers

          There was a man who always took the F train, same as her since she started her new job, without fail, and every time she saw him she wondered if it was possible to fall for someone from a distance. To never have said a word to them, to never have officially met them, but to just see them and deem it normal to feel a thrill run down your spine. She kept these thoughts to herself, feeling as though if she told her friends about the drop dead gorgeous man she saw on the same train every day when she was coming from and going to work and sometimes nearly missing her stop because she was too distracted by him, they would judge her. 

          So she kept her silent admiration as just that—silent.

          She’d see him in the morning when she’d get on the train from Penn Station, always sitting with headphones in and with either a book to read or some kind of leather journal she’d see him write in, ring clad fingers always twirling a pen in between. He’d still be on the train when she got off at her stop on Rockefeller Center, and he’d be on it later in the evening, hopping off on a stop that came after Penn Station, since he’d still be on when she got off.

          He was handsome which, admittedly, was the first thing that caught her attention. Dark brown hair comprised of short curls that brushed his ears and forehead, darker eyes that never left the book or journal he held, and full lips that were often victims of his thoughtfully chewing teeth. If he wasn’t chewing his lip, he was absently biting on the end of his pen, and there had been occasions where she’d caught him realize what he was doing, scrunching his face in exasperation as he eyed the end of the pen before going back to writing. It was those moments where she’d seen him be the most expressive. Otherwise, his features were delicately balanced in a neutral absentness, sharp eyes too busy tracking the words he was either reading or writing to focus on anything else.

          Sometimes she’d sit with some distance between them on the opposite side of the train car, maybe towards the other end. Sometimes she’d end up sitting opposite of him, the music playing loudly through her earbuds to silence the echoing clanking of the subway car. Despite her attempts to look at the advertisements above his head or watch walls whiz by in the underground tunnels, her gaze would often travel back over to him, a magnet demanding her attention. That should be worrying, shouldn’t it? How every time they were on the subway together, he’s all she could look at, think of? She knew nothing about him and yet he occupied her thoughts more than her work to-do list.

          On a Tuesday morning, there were significant delays in the subways, underground construction obstructing people’s commute to work. So the F train was packed to the brim, no places to sit and even fewer spaces to stand, but she couldn’t risk waiting for another train, so she pushed herself on.

          Despite the air conditioning in the car, the packed bodies heightened the heat, and she mumbled soft excuse me’s to grasp a pole in the middle so her body didn’t jerk with the movement of the car. She found one nearby the door she would exit from, keeping her bag close to her body as she placed her hand right under a tattooed one. When the train started moving, she looked up, and the air rushed out of her lungs almost instantly.

          Her handsome subway man shared the pole with her, his tall figure looming over hers, backpack on, headphones in and dark eyes staring blankly towards the window, paying no mind to the dozens of bodies packed around them. It was unlucky that they were crammed in such a tight space; she felt like she couldn’t quite breathe at their proximity, the closest they’d been, and she willed herself not to be such a pathetic mess. How could she let a total stranger have such an effect on her?

          She did her best to keep her gaze away from, to look at the faces around her, except none were as gorgeous as the tall brunette standing right by her. They were so close—she could smell him. Faintly of cigarettes and old spice combined with a fresh musk that was a welcome change from the stale scent of the subway. God—he even smelled as good as he looked.

          Despite herself, she chanced a glance up at him, catching the movement of his sharp jaw. He was chewing gum. One hand gripping the pole while the other remained buried in the front pocket of his hoodie. How was he not boiling in the heat of the train? She took notice of his relaxed expression, unbothered—almost bored. It was strange seeing him standing, no book or journal in sight, though she understood due to the packed circumstances of the train. She hadn’t realized how tall he was until she was standing next to him. Her heart was still drumming wildly in her chest.

          Every time the train stopped at a station, she had to adjust where she stood, allowing for people to move off and on the train. She hated that she felt heat flood into her cheeks when she had to move in such a way that she was standing in front of him, hand still gripping the pole, to let people pass. Especially when he glanced down at her, taking a step to provide her with as much space as he could so she stood comfortably.

          In doing so, however, he adjusted his grip on the pole, hand lowering slightly, enough for his skin to come in contact with hers. Her throat tightened at the sudden shock that coursed through her body at the touch, fighting to keep her eyes from widening as her gaze flashed to their hands. Had she imagined that feeling, conjured up by her damn near obsession with this guy? Was the universe playing tricks on her?

          She glanced at him just as he moved his hand further up on the pole, his dark eyes locking with hers as one corner of his lips quirked into an apologetic smile as he mouthed, “Sorry.”

          It was the smallest of smiles, barely even such, but it was so pretty.

          She offered a shake of her head, forcing herself to push past her shock and mouth back, “It’s okay.”

          Her stop came too quickly after that, and she clenched her teeth when the rough movement of the commuters all but jerked her body around, inhaling sharply as she pushed her way towards the exit to step onto the platform. She was a bit sad about not getting one last look at the subway stranger, but it was alright. She’d see him again later, hopefully.

          She hadn’t noticed, though, that in the sharp movements of everyone around her, something valuable had slipped out of her bag in the train. It wasn’t until she was sitting at her desk at work, bag on her lap, did she realize with her heart sinking to the pit of her stomach that her planner was missing. She had left home with it, she knew. It was the one thing that kept her as organized as she was, kept track of every aspect of her life, even had pages where she’d write so many of her thoughts down. It made her feel like Katherine Heigl from 27 Dresses, but all jokes aside, that planner was her life. And it was gone.

#2: The 5:13.

          It would be comical how frazzled she felt if it wasn’t leaving her on the verge of falling apart. She’d somehow, by some miracle, made it through the first half of the day getting whatever she could done. There had been many moments where she’d reach for her planner to try and see what else she had to do, only to sink in her chair when all she grabbed was empty air and her hand would touch the hard slab of her desk.

          Her jaw had begun to ache from how tightly she’d clench it every now and then out of frustration, chastising herself for being so careless in losing something so important to her. The mere lack of her planner’s presence alone made her feel completely disorganized, which really spoke for her dependence on it, and now she’d need to buy another one and hope she wouldn’t be as irresponsible with it.

          She tried to distract herself with paperwork—though, it was actually work that she had to get done—when her desk phone began ringing. It was the receptionist at the front desk in the lobby. “There’s someone here to see you,” Sylvie spoke into the phone. “Says he’s got something of yours.”

          Her eyebrows knitted together, sitting up in her chair at that. She couldn’t imagine anyone who would come to visit her, but her curiosity piqued at the notion of this visitor having something of hers. Her heart jumped. Her planner? She’d written the address of her work on the front page, finding it safer to write down the building where there was security rather than her family home where she still lived in New Jersey.

          Quickly, she got up and made her way out of the office floor and towards the lobby, reaching the receptionist’s desk and shooting Sylvie a quizzical look when she didn’t see anyone nearby. Sylvia met her gaze before nodding to somewhere behind her, and she turned around only to have her breath stolen from her for the second time that day.

          Her—the, not her—subway stranger stood up from the cushioned bench he sat on as soon as his gaze met hers, and she stood, damn near frozen, as he made his way over to her. He wore his backpack with just one strap, allowing for it to swing forward to his chest as he unzipped it. His brown eyes met hers briefly before he dug his hand into the bag, and her eyes widened in both surprise and relief as he pulled out the familiar, beloved yellow and white planner.

          “This is yours, I believe,” he said. And suddenly her excitement for the return of her planner was second to her momentary shock of hearing his voice. The tone of his voice was as low as it was quiet, a subtle drawl hinting towards an accent that wasn’t American. He held out the planner, a slight quirk in his lips. “I found the address on the front page, figured I’d return it.”

          Her lips parted, mind running a mile a minute. The drumming in her heart returned as she looked up at him, his looming height not at all intimidating, and he patiently and expectantly returned her gaze. He didn’t quite look like the uninterested man she saw every day on the subway whose focus was only on the books he was reading, or the journal he was writing in. There was a pleasantness in his brown eyes, warm and inviting. The light pouring through the windows of the building seemed to reflect in his gaze as opposed to the dim lights of the subway they normally occupied.

          “I—Thank you,” she finally kicked herself into saying, her voice breathy. She was vaguely aware of the few people milling around them, minding their own business. All she could look at was the man in front of her. Taking the planner from him, she briefly caught sight of the few silver and black rings he wore, noticed letters tattooed on his hands, wondering what they meant, wondered if he had any others. Hugging the book to her chest, she added with a grateful smile, “You honestly saved my life.”

          He may have no idea how much she meant that. She could already feel some of her sanity come back—though, his presence in her building was already teasing that.

          He was kind. She could tell by his act of actually showing up to her place of work to hand back what she had lost. He didn’t have to, he could’ve easily left her planner on the floor of the train where he probably found it. The fact that he didn’t warmed her heart. It made it pathetically easier to fall for this subway stranger.

          He chuckled lowly, zipping his bag and wearing it properly, shoulders straightening as he peered down at her. “Yeah; I was gonna wait until I saw you on the train later but didn’t want to risk potentially missing you. Plus a book that thick, I figured it was important.”

          She couldn’t help the way her eyes widened at his words, breath catching in her throat. Had he noticed her on the train, too, like she noticed him? Maybe not in the same manner as she did—it wasn’t a surprise she’d look for him every time she stepped into the car, always finding childish yet joyous relief when she realized they once again were in the same car every time. Still, if he knew there was a chance he would see her later on in their evening commute, then that meant he’d noticed her before, at least once, right?

          Gathering her wits as quickly as she could, she smiled and said, “I really appreciate it. Thank you. . .”

           She trailed off, an almost hopeful quirk of her eyebrows, and she watched as what she deemed as recognition flash across his face as he offered, “Calum.”

          Calum. Subway stranger finally had a name and she had to stop herself from testing it on her own tongue just to see how it sounded. Still, she repeated, “Thank you, Calum.”

          He nodded, lips pursing momentarily. “No problem,” he said, gripping the strap of his bag and taking a step back. Calum glanced towards the windows, squinting slightly against the bright beam of sunlight washing through, before looking back at her with a small smile. Much different than his usual uninterested expression she stole glances at. “I’ll see you on the 5:13,” he said before he departed towards the elevators.

          She rolled her lips into her mouth, heart erratic. She wouldn’t assume that he was going to look for her, but his departing words still had her smile growing before she could fight it.

          Later on that evening, when she stepped into a car of the F train, she immediately found a spot to sit against the wall and claimed it for herself with a huff. The train wasn’t as busy as it had been in the morning and so the air conditioning worked well to cool down her skin after waiting in the otherwise smoldering station. She let out a sigh of relief, eyes closing as she tilted her head back and enjoyed, for a moment, the coolness of the car.

          As the train began moving, the clanking silenced by the music playing through her earbuds, she opened her eyes and looked straight ahead, only to find the handsome subway stranger—Calum, she now knew—looking right at her. He sat on the other side, backpack between his feet, and she straightened when he offered her a smile, like they were familiar.

          And then, to her surprise, he stood up and crossed the short distance. She watched him, gaze never leaving his brown eyes, taking out one earbud as he gestured to the empty seat next to her and asked, “May I?”

          Her lips parted before she nodded, bag in her lap as Calum took the seat to her right. In his hands is the familiar black journal she always saw him holding, a pen tucked into the spine. Even as he sat, he was taller than her, and her skin grew flustered as she wondered why he moved next to her, turning off her music.

          “Do you think it’s odd we’ve been on the same subway car almost every day for the past two months?”

          She looked at him once more, expression falling into one of surprise, her grip on her bag in her lap tightening at his question. Every day for the past two months. . . Did that mean he noticed, too? Noticed her? Her heart clenched in both excitement and nervousness; had he noticed the way she would stare at him? Was he creeped out? Shit, she never thought he caught her, always assumed he was too into what he was listening to or reading or writing to pick up on her stares.

          Though, she figured, if someone was staring as heavily and intently at her the way she did him, she’d probably notice too. God, how embarrassing!

          Desperately trying to ignore the heat creeping up her neck and pooling into her cheeks, she let out a short, albeit nervous, laugh before responding, “A little bit, yeah.”

          Odd, lucky—the sentiments were interchangeable.

          Calum chuckled, chin lifting, and she caught a glimpse of a silver chain around his neck. It matched the bracelet peeking out from under the sleeve of his hoodie. “What about fate?” he asked, smooth voice musing as he tilted his head. “Do you believe in that?”

          She looked at him, doing her best to keep her gaze on his eyes and not dare travel any lower. It wasn’t difficult. His intense brown eyes kept her trapped in place, though she would never try to escape, she realized. His question about fate stirred something in the pit of her stomach, fighting the tightness in her throat as she found herself returning, “Why do you ask?”

          A small, boyish smile played on the corner of his lips, charming beyond belief. It really did take a moment for her to adjust to such a pretty sight, so used to seeing nothing but neutral, sometimes thoughtful, expressions on his face. “I’m thinkin’ you forgettin’ your planner was some kind of act of fate. Maybe the universe got tired of putting us on the same subway every day and us never doin’ anything about it.”

          She gaped, lips parting yet no words coming out. He thought they were supposed to do something about it? She wanted to laugh out of incredulity. Was Calum telling her all those days spent admiring him from afar could’ve been spent maybe actually talking to him a lot sooner than today? Her head was spinning and there was only one stop left until she had to get off. Damn it.

          Finding her voice, she cleared her throat lightly before asking, “If we were meant to do something about it, why didn’t you?”

          “I was waiting on you,” Calum replied easily and her grip on her bag tightened. He let out a small laugh, deliciously raspy in sound. “Didn’t want you to think I was some kind of creep.”

          At that, she let out a gentle laugh of her own, raising her eyebrows in amusement. “So it was okay if I looked like the creep?”

          He grinned in response, a full on smile that was blinding and breathtaking all at once, softening sharp features and glimmering in his dark eyes. And despite her heart beating excitedly, she couldn’t help but note the otherwise calmness she felt. Talking to Calum seemed so easy, so effortless. Like she knew him enough to feel so comfortable. Maybe it was him, maybe it was her days admiring him silently from afar, or a combination of both. But she welcomed it.

          His smile remained, genuine and sweet, voice hinting at an accent she craved hearing more of. “You could never.”

#3: Finding Home

           The subway car lurched and she bumped backwards into Calum’s chest, left hand shooting out to grab the pole next to the seat to balance herself on her feet. But Calum was quick to react and used his right arm to drape around her collarbones, right hand gently grasping her shoulder to keep her in place. Her lips quirked up at his hard yet warm chest against her back, leaning into him and his touch as the car kept going at a speed that prompted inexperienced subway goers to lose their balance every now and again.

           It was past midnight and the subway was filled with people, all of whom were leaving the Halsey concert she and Calum had just attended at the Barclays Center. For a moment, she closed her eyes, her heart finally calming down after attending one of the best shows of her life, skin still warm from all the jumping, throat dry with a satisfying burn due to screaming lyrics alongside the performer and thousands of people in the crowd.

           The two of them had been looking forward to this concert for weeks after Calum managed to end up getting tickets, and she felt a content blanket fall over her as she stood in the train with him in the aftermath.

           Over the buzz of the bustling passengers, she heard Calum murmur in her ear, “Tired?”

           She hummed in response, offering a single nod, focus going to the thrill that shot down her spine at his warm breath fanning against her skin. This friendship was not one she had seen coming, but it had been nearly three months since Calum had returned her planner and they were still in each other’s lives. Three months of being friends, of getting to know one another, of going from strangers to anything but. Three months of her distant attraction to him growing into something so much more real and intense.

           No longer was Calum the cute boy from the subway she saw every morning and every evening. The stranger who sat with a book or journal, lost in the world of words or the music he was listening to instead of showing an ounce of interest in the world around him. Now he was her friend, a close one at that. He was someone she had been as attracted to as a stranger could appropriately be to another. Months later, Calum had shown her parts of himself, his heart and mind, that deepened whatever physical attraction she had felt and allowed her to genuinely, truly, fall for the man she had come to know.

           The more she knew him, the more she liked him.

           She knew his coffee order and liked when he surprised her with her own on their morning commute. She knew he enjoyed watching documentaries of all kinds and liked when he told her about them to stimulate her own interest. She knew his love for dogs and liked when he invited her over just so she could play with Duke. She knew he never left his home without his beloved leather journal and she liked him for divulging in her the poems he wrote, taking her breath away with how passionately and beautifully he articulated himself.

           Every day she was given a new reason to like him, to feel comfortable in his presence and safe next to him. Not knowing how he felt was all that was preventing her from letting him know how she felt, afraid of ruining something so good if he didn’t return her feelings. This friendship was a surprise, but it was one of her favorites. Still, she found herself wondering, hoping, if he was falling for her the way she had for him.

           “My throat hurts,” she found herself saying, her voice a bit hoarse to emphasize her statement, head leaned back against Calum’s collarbones.

           She felt him chuckle as much as she heard him, the sound tantalizing. “I know. I don’t think I’ve heard you scream so much.”

           She couldn’t help but snort as she responded, “That’s what she said.”

           “For fuck’s sake,” Calum muttered, the amused exasperation making her grin, biting her lower lip when she felt his mouth press to the top of her head. His familiar cologne enveloped her, and she reached her right hand up to grip his arm around her, not wanting him to let go.

           Glancing at the watch he was wearing, she noticed that there were still a few minutes until they reached the 14thstreet station, which is where she and Calum would go their separate ways. He would get off to head home, and she would remain until she reached Herald Square before transferring trains to head to Lexington Avenue to her brother’s apartment, who’s offered for her to spend the night instead of being at Penn Station by herself to go back home.

           “Y’know how before Halsey performed Bad At Love, she told everyone who was there with someone to kiss them?” Calum asked and her throat worked, hoping he hadn’t felt her still against him. She kept her gaze on the shoes of the people standing around them, all too busy with their own lives to notice them.

           She tried to keep her tone light, remembering that particular moment too well. “Yeah, when you very sloppily kissed my cheek,” she returned, a teasing tint creeping into her voice as her lips curled into a smile. His kiss had taken her by surprise, his stubble tickling her skin as he gave her a playful and wet kiss. She had laughed, but her heart was threatening to burst out of her chest.

           Had she just heard him swallow behind her? Was he nervous? With a slight breath, Calum quietly admitted, “I was overcompensating, I guess.”

           She didn’t turn to look at him, despite feeling the desperate urge to do so. His arm was still around his, embrace still warm and welcoming. What did he mean? What was he talking about? Licking her lips briefly, she dared to ask, “For what?”

           His hand was still on her shoulder and his thumb brushed against her skin, exposed by the tube top she chose to wore that night. An electric shiver coursed down the length of her spine when she felt Calum’s lips brush against her ear. “Not being able to actually kiss you.”

           His confession shook her more than the rattling of the subway car, her eyes widening and heart stopping so her brain could efficiently process Calum’s words. He was quiet, giving her the time she needed to reject what he said if she wanted to—when in actuality, that was the absolute last thing she wanted to do.

           Goosebumps raising on her skin, she turned in his embrace until she was facing him, their fronts pressed together as she peered up at the tall man. He was blonde now, curls short and soft, having dyed it some time back. She missed the dark hair, but she would be lying if she said the blonde didn’t work well on him. Too well. Exceptionally well.

           But it was his eyes she was focused on right now. Dark brown eyes holding every bit of their intensity as he gazed down at her, trying to gauge her reaction, her skin heating up as he took in every inch of her face, gaze lingering on her lips. He was fine with her knowing he was staring. She was fine with him staring.

           This—this is what she had been waiting for; some kind of sign that his interest in her was at the same level as hers was in him. And this was as big, loud, and bright of a sign as any, and it made it all the more difficult to fight the smile threatening to quirk at her lips. Wide and giddy and true.

           She tilted her chin ever so slightly, eyes locking with his, fighting the excitement as she steadied her tone and said quietly, “Unless you have a problem with PDA, there’s nothing stopping you from kissing me now.”

           Calum’s eyes flashed at her words, a dangerously exciting glint in them, and her words were all the incentive he needed before lowering his face to close the gap between them. Her eyes fell shut as she instantly returned the kiss, the feel of his soft lips and tickle of his stubble drumming her heart and shooting electricity through every nerve in her body as her hands gripped the lapels of his leather jacket. Calum kept her just as close, free hand cupping her cheek, the cool metal of his ring wonderfully startling against her heated skin.

           Not even the other passengers nor the consistent rattling of the subway car pulled their attention from one another as she pressed into Calum as he remained leaning against the door. He kissed her like he’d wanted to do so for longer than she anticipated, and she wasn’t any less eager. Her heart was erratic, her stomach a new home for the fluttering butterflies, and her lips constantly craving to taste his now that she knew what they felt like. She would never get enough, she knew.

           God. How long had she waited for this? How fucking funny that their first kiss was in a train similar to the one she’d first seen him on?

           What had Calum said, all those months ago, about fate? This felt like it.

           They pulled away just as the subway car began slowing down, signaling their approach to the 14th street station, yet her eyes remained closed and nose brushing against Calum as they caught their breaths. The night was ending too soon for her liking, knowing Calum would have to step off soon. She wasn’t quite ready to let go of him. Not after that kiss. Not after what just happened.

           The car stopped but they hadn’t pulled away. The doors opposite of them—not the ones they were leaning against—slid open and she was aware of people shuffling on and off the train. Calum didn’t make a move to pull away and leave, and so she reluctantly did, opening her eyes to look up at him. Breathlessly, she said, “This is your stop.”

           His brown eyes were on her, always on her. Calum’s gaze flickered past her towards the open door leading to the platform and he swiped his tongue across his lower lip. It only made her want to kiss him again. Looking back at her, he said, “I’ll drop you home. Take a train after.”

           Her heart jumped to her throat as his hand went from her cheek to her hip. There were less people on the train than before, and the doors would close any second now. She wanted to spend more time with him before the night ended, of course, but she still found herself saying, “You’re gonna waste money, Cal.”

           He scoffed, rolling his eyes as he shot her a look. His other arm reached up to hook around her neck, keeping her close once again. “Never a waste when it comes to you.”

           This time, she didn’t fight the grin from spreading across her face, vaguely aware of the doors shutting behind them before the familiar ding sounded and the train started moving again. Calum easily mirrored her grin, tugging her close to press his lips to her forehead, and she closed her eyes and sank into his embrace, his heart a steady beat under her ear as he gave her a loving, comforting squeeze as the train rattled on.

           She hadn’t really given the concept of fate much thought, but it wasn’t lost on her that the man who held her so close was one she’d see every day on the same train, who found something of hers on the floor of a train, and who had kissed her for the first time on a train. She smiled against his chest, arms tight around his waist, letting out a slow breath when Calum kissed the top of her head. The subway had only been a means of getting to work and getting home. Maybe fate played a part because it had so quickly become a way of finding home, too.

--

tags: @irwinkitten @softforcal @sweetcherrymike @loveroflrh @astroashtonio @meetashthere @loverofhood @captain-what-is-going-on @angelbbycal @singt0mecalum @hopelessxcynic @lfwallscouldtalk @bodhi-black @findingliam-o @softlrh @highfivecalum @calumsmermaid @erikamarie41 @quintodosuniversos @longlastingdaydream @babylon-corgis @lukehemmingsunflower @miss-saltwatercowgirl @pastelpapermoons @conquerwhatliesahead92 @rotten-kandy @metangi @neigcthood​ @ohhmuke​ @mindkaleidoscope​ @5sos-and-hessa​ @trustmeimawhalebiologist​ @vxlentinecal​ @pettybassists​ @vaporshawn​ @lu-my-golden-boi​ @visualm3nte​ @isabella-mae13​ @dontjinx-it​ @lifeakaharry​ @neonweeknds​ @antisocialbandmate​ @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave​ @calpalbby​ @grreatgooglymoogly​ @sunnysidesblog​ @miahelizaaabeth​ @dramallamawithsparkles​ @kaytiebug14​ @hoodskillerqueen​ @bitchinbabylon​ @empathycth​ @xhaileyreneex​ @inlovehoodx​ @bloodlinecal​ @sublimehood​ @madbomb​ @raabiac​ @britnicole11​ @outofmylimitcal​ @wildflower-cth​ @bloodmoonashton​ @vxidhood​ @gosh-im-short​ @thesubtweeter​ @mycollectionofnuts​ @cthwldflwr​ @everyscarisahealingplace​ @socorroann​ @talkfastromance4​ @calumftduke​ 

[svtwritess]

Chapter 2

➫ word count: 11.6k (this got away from me to say the least </3) ➫ pairings: wonwoo x female reader, mingyu x female reader ➫ genre: fluff, smut, angst ➫ college!au, vampire!au ➫ warnings: sexual content, alcohol, food

“So are you gonna explain who that guy was?” Wonwoo asked, attempting to seem disinterested as he gripped the steering wheel of the moving truck tightly. 

“His name is Mingyu,” you said defensively as you tried to hide your smile, “and he was just helping me move everything inside that’s all.” you shrugged as you looked out of the window. 

It hadn’t been long since you parted from Mingyu, but you couldn’t get him out of your head. How did someone so tall, attractive, strong, and seemingly very sweet just… magically appear the exact second that you needed someone who was all of those things?  

“Yeah, I’m sure that was it.” Wonwoo scoffed disapprovingly. 

You whipped your head around to look at him, a frown evident on your features. He looked over at you and raised his eyebrow before returning his eyes to the road in front of him. 

“What? You think he had some sort of ulterior motive?” you questioned, slightly offended. 

“Um, yeah. Anyone with a brain would be able to figure that out.” Wonwoo said matter-of-factly, your jaw dropping at his words. 

“Wh-“ 

“Just tell me this,” Wonwoo started again, “Did he or did he not say or do something flirtatious at some point in time?” he asked, sounding as if he already knew the answer. 

Your instinct was to reply defensively and say no, but you quickly realized that you couldn’t. Very obviously checking you out when he first met you and asking you to promise that he’d see you again doesn’t exactly fall under the category of friendly. 

“I- That doesn’t matter.” you said and crossed your arms. Even though he was flirting, it was harmless and there’s no reason for Wonwoo to be so judgmental about it. It was probably because the whole Joshua incident had literally just passed, so him being upset was understandable, but it’s not like Mingyu was feeling you up in front of him or something. 

“Of course it doesn’t.” he chuckled lightly, clearly not believing you. 

You rolled your eyes. “And you care so much about this why?” you asked, a tinge of annoyance in your voice. 

“Cause I don’t trust him.”

‘Whatever,’ you thought, ‘it’s not like anything will come from it anyway’. Knowing your history with any guy that wasn’t Joshua, there was an extremely small chance that your relationship with Mingyu would amount to anything other than an acquaintanceship. You’d only spent around 2 hours with the guy, but even so, it was clear that he’s wildly attractive and that he has an insane effect on you. You hoped you’d see him again, really, you just didn’t know when or how.

Wonwoo pulled into a parking spot at the moving truck company. You unbuckled your seatbelt with a sigh, hopped out of the truck, and went inside. 

The bright lights caused you to squint as they were a great contrast to the darkness outside, and the harsh air conditioning caused a shiver to run down your spine. The building was essentially empty except for a few lone employees. 

You walked over to the help desk and told them you were returning a truck. You grabbed the key from Wonwoo, signed a form saying you returned the vehicle, and went right back outside to order an Uber home. Your parents offered the two of you one of their cars to take to college, but anywhere that you would need to go on a daily basis was walking distance. The walk could sometimes be further than you’d like depending on where you were going, but not far enough to work up a sweat, so it was something that you and Wonwoo were both thankful for. 

You ordered the Uber and told Wonwoo it would arrive in 3 minutes. He just nodded and leaned against the concrete wall of the building. 

“What’s your schedule like for this semester?” you asked, kicking around a small rock that was on the ground.

“Two classes on Monday and two on Tuesday, you?” he asked, arms crossed and giving you a curious stare.

“That seems like a lot,” you told him, but he just shrugged. “I have one in the morning everyday except Friday.” 

“Eh, I’d rather just get them over with,” he reasoned, “Is your Monday morning class the one about Shakespeare too?” he asked and you nodded. You were going into creative writing and he was going into literature, so a few of your classes were the same. 

“How did we not plan that?” you laughed, and he shrugged with a chuckle, not knowing the answer to your question either. 

The Uber pulled up in front of you and you both climbed inside. You checked to make sure the driver was the same as the person on the app and after confirming that it was, you sat back in your seat and anticipated getting back to your apartment so you could finally sleep.

It was finally the first day of classes and you were the utmost excited. With a content smile on your face, you put the last of your necessities in your bag and threw it over your shoulder. After looking in the mirror and running a brush through your hair one last time, you headed into your living room. 

Wonwoo was slumped down on the couch with his phone in his hand. He had a small pout on his face and looked more tired than you would have expected him to. 

“Good morning!” you said happily, sitting down next to him. 

He chuckled at your perkiness. “Well good morning. Why are you so excited?” he locked his phone and put it on his lap, looking up at you. 

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, “it’s the first day of classes, isn’t that always kind of exciting?” you asked curiously.

“Eh,” he said as he sat up straight, “it’s just school.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. He was right, it was just more school, but you were in college now, and everything was different, at least in your eyes.

“Well, would getting breakfast before class make it any better?” you inquired, and his face immediately perked up at your words. He nodded his head avidly and you smiled at his enthusiasm. “Okay, but we have to go now.”

Wonwoo stood up immediately and grabbed his grey bag that was sitting on the kitchen counter. He opened your front door and used his arm to motion outside. 

“Then let’s go now!” he said, a new found energy in his voice. You laughed and stood up, exiting your new apartment with your best friend in tow. You took the key out of your bag, locking the door and setting off toward your breakfast destination. 

You knew there was a coffee shop right by the campus as you had seen in when you toured the college almost a year ago, so you decided to go there. You and Wonwoo made small talk as you walked, Wonwoo still seeming too lethargic to discuss anything more than the basics. 

You arrived at the small shop, the air conditioning cool and the walls a calming blue color. There were a few other people your age scattered around the cafe, presumably other students. They all seemed happy, which was a good sign from a place that served food. 

You and Wonwoo approached the counter and a girl with a half up-half down hairstyle with a black apron on walked up to the counter to serve you. 

“Hi guys! What can I get for you?” she asked, her voice cheerful and her smile almost overwhelmingly large. Wonwoo got a coffee and a muffin and the girl punched in his order as she spoke. 

“O-okay,” she blushed, “anything else?” 

You placed your order, which was very similar to Wonwoo’s, and pulled your card out to pay. However, you realized that she hadn’t punched anything into the cash register the entire time you were talking. She was staring off into space, or rather, staring way too intently at Wonwoo. You moved forward a little to try and catch her attention, and she was shaken out of her thoughts.

“Sorry, uh, what was that?” she asked, her blush worse than before. You repeated your order, admittedly a bit irritated, and moved to pay again. As you went to insert your card into the machine in front of you, Wonwoo stopped you. 

“Here,” he said, reaching forward and inserting his card instead, “I got it.” 

He paid for your order and the girl handed you a number card to put on your table, shyly telling you that your order would be right out. You walked over to a small table in the corner of the shop and sat down, placing the number card at the edge of the table. 

“So she was obviously into you.” you stated, rather annoyed, and Wonwoo chuckled. 

“Was she? I didn’t notice.” he smirked, “Why do you sound so bothered, huh? Got something you wanna confess?” he joked. You laughed loudly. 

“Please,” you scoffed, “no. She just didn’t need to be so obvious about checking you out, that’s all.” 

The same girl that took your order came over to your table with a tray in her hand. She set your coffees and muffins down on the table before standing there for a moment, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Thank you.” you said as nicely as possibly, attempting to make it obvious that she no longer needed to be standing there.

“Oh,” she said, clearly surprised, “yeah, sorry. Just let me know if you need anything.” she gave Wonwoo one last look before heading back to her position at the front counter. 

“Well?” you asked Wonwoo, causing him to raise an eyebrow at you. “Do you need anything?” 

He chuckled at your bitterness. “Yeah, I need to eat.” he picked up his muffin and took a large bite. You, too, were feeling rather famished, so you began working on yours as well. You ate and drank in silence, hunger consuming the both of you. You also wanted to leave as soon as possible so that you weren’t late for your first class.

You watched as Wonwoo chugged the last of his coffee and set the cup down on the table. 

“Ready?” he asked, but all you could do was stare, as you had muffin threatening to fall out of your mouth. With ¾ of your coffee left and half a muffin in your hand, you shrugged and nodded. You could eat on the way and you’d hoped you’d be able to finish your beverage in class. You stood up from the table and pushed the chair in, making your way out the door. 

Wonwoo pulled out his class schedule and found the class you were headed to. 

“A-203,” he said under his breath, you assumed he was saying the building and room number.

You walked for a few more minutes, and soon your school’s campus came into view. It was the first time you were seeing the place in a few months and you could feel your heartbeat increase. You weren’t sure if it was because of excitement or pure anxiety, but either way, you were hoping for a good first day. 

You approached the large sign with your school’s name on it as you took the last bite of your muffin, throwing the wrapper in a trash can that you happened to walk by. You took another sip of your coffee as Wonwoo spotted the building your class was located in and pointed in that direction. You checked the time on your phone as you walked and thankfully you still had 10 minutes to spare. 

You approached the building and went inside. For some reason it was extremely cold, so you held onto your coffee hoping it would bring you some form of warmth. You climbed the stairs slowly, the feeling of the muffin that hadn’t yet digested weighing you down. 

When you reached the top of the stairs and began walking down the hallway, Wonwoo read the room numbers out loud. But of course, the very first room was number 219, which meant that your classroom was at the very end of the hall. 

You walked and walked until finally a sign with a big “203” on it was right in front of you. You entered the classroom, and wow was it big. Much larger than any high school classroom you’d ever been in. There were at least 10 rows of seats and the further back they went the higher up they were elevated. It all felt very… classy.

You and Wonwoo picked seats in one of the middle rows and sat on the very end. Wonwoo always liked being close to the door for some reason. 

“Think the professor will be on time?” he asked, but you shook your head.

“Probably not.” you replied as you took your things out of your bags. You both pulled out your laptops, yours in a rather busy plastic case with stickers in some places and his completely bare, looking as if it had just come out of the box. Even when it came to your possessions, it was clear who the more organized friend was. 

You checked your phone and there was now 1 minute until class was set to start, yet still no sign of your professor. Though as if the universe could read your mind, the door burst open and a middle-aged woman with grey hair entered the room. Her clothes screamed 70’s hippy movement and her glasses were about as thick as a bulletproof window, but she was pretty. She was slender and on the taller side, she definitely fit the stereotype of a professor who teaches Shakespeare. 

“Hello all!” she said in a perky voice. “Now today we’re gonna be jumping right into the material, we’ve got a lot to cover. So take out whatever you’re using to take notes and let’s get started!” 

You opened a fresh page, set the font and size to your preference and began typing. She started with Romeo and Juliet, which makes sense as it’s arguably Shakespeare’s most famous work. 

As she rambled you typed, trying to digest the surprisingly interesting information she was relaying to you. Wonwoo looked just as immersed in his notes as you did, which is probably why he didn’t notice the girl further down the row staring at him. She was leaning forward to look past you with a dazed look in her eyes. Did he give out love potions to random girls at some point and not tell you about it? 

You rolled your eyes, not wanting to think about how many more girls would fawn over your best friend this semester, and continued typing. 

The 2-hour lecture went by fast, as your professor had a way with words and knew how to make even the most boring of facts interesting. You felt lucky for that, as you knew how much a bad teacher could affect a learning experience. 

“Did you like it?” you asked Wonwoo as you put your laptop back in your bag.

“Yeah, I did actually. She’s a good teacher.” you nodded in agreement as you stood up, Wonwoo soon following suit. The girl down the row from you who was gawking at your apparently extremely attractive best friend walked past the two of you, giving Wonwoo an unmistakably flirtatious look before she exited the classroom.

“That’s the second one today.” you observed as you made your way toward the door. 

“Oh you act like you don’t give guys looks like that when you’re into them.” he teased, but you shook your head.

“Maybe at a party or something where a look like that is appropriate, but not in broad daylight!” you stated as you descended the stairs together. “Girls didn’t look at you like that in high school, what’s different?” 

“I don’t have Joshua next to me all the time.” he said in a low voice and shrugged. Sadly, you knew he was right. Joshua always got way more attention than Wonwoo in high school for some reason, even before his gigantic growth spurt. You felt your heart pang as you realized sleeping with Joshua probably didn’t make Wonwoo feel any better about himself at that time, but sadly, there wasn’t anything you could do about it now. 

“Well then I would say it’s time to get some, wouldn’t you?” you suggested as you stood in the lobby of the first floor.

Wonwoo just laughed. “Yeah, sure…” he trailed off, itching the back of his neck. “My next class is just down the hall, see you when I get home?” 

You nodded and wished him luck before heading back to your lovely, yet average, college apartment.

When you were walking home earlier, you saw a grocery store on your path and thought ‘why not?’ 

You went inside and grabbed the ingredients to make your favorite kind of pasta, as sort of a celebration that you and Wonwoo had successfully completed your first day of college. 

The ingredients were cheaper than you thought they’d be, and on an even brighter note, the guy at the register was cute. He was tall and slender with fluffy hair and a cute little beauty mark by his lip, though the way you felt when he looked at you was nowhere near as intense as when Mingyu did. Even though you’d only met him once, any time you saw a guy you thought was even remotely cute, you started comparing them to him. For some reason, your heart seemed to be dead set in seeing him again. 

When you got home, you took some time to get changed and relax. You threw on one of your favorite oversized t-shirts and a pair of shorts and realized that you were happy to feel so comfortable in your new home so soon.

You started cooking the pasta so that it would be done at roughly the same time Wonwoo was supposed to be home. You must have timed it perfectly, because low and behold, Wonwoo came through the door just as you were pouring the sauce over the noodles. 

“Hey! How was your second class?” you asked excitedly. 

“Not nearly as good as the first one,” he said, clearly exasperated as he fell back onto the couch, “and what’s that smell?” 

“I maaaaay have made first day of class pasta.” you told him as you grabbed the only two bowls you had bought so far and a pair of tongs, using them to dish both you and Wonwoo some noodles. You got some utensils from out of one of the drawers and placed them in the bowls before walking over to Wonwoo and handing him one. As you sat down next to him, he immediately started eating. 

“Wah,” he groaned, “this is amazing!” it was hard to understand him with his mouth full, but you appreciated the compliment nonetheless. “Thanks y/n.” he said sincerely. 

Happily you nodded, a content smile on your face. “You’re welcome,” you replied as you began eating as well, the savory flavor meeting your tongue. Wonwoo was right, it was pretty amazing. 

“Oh guess what! That girl from the cafe this morning? She was in my other class.” he said, slightly mumbling due to the overflow of pasta in his mouth. 

You just sat there, looking at him blankly. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you could hear that he was smiling, “We sat next to each other. I, uh… got her number.” 

Noodles almost fell out of your mouth when he said that. 

“You did? Like you initiated the asking of the phone number?” you asked, extremely surprised.

“Yeah!” he laughed, “Why do you sound so shocked?” 

“Because it usually takes a girl making it extremely obvious that she likes you over a long period of time for you to do anything about it.” you stated as if it was obvious.

“Well I was feeling confident today, sue me.” he shrugged, continuing to eat. You said nothing else and focused on your noodles. You weren’t sure if it was because you weren’t used to Wonwoo getting female attention or because you didn’t want anyone stealing any of your time with your best friend, but you didn’t like it. Though of course you weren’t going to tell him that, you knew that he deserved it. “Anyway, how were your 2 hours without me?” 

You were just going to tell him that you only took a nap and made the food, but then you remembered something.

“I saw a cute guy at the store today. He was the cashier. Tall, nice hair.” 

“Did you flirt with him?” he asked nonchalantly.

“No, just admired.” 

“Ah, so he wasn’t as cute as Mingyu?” he teased and you whipped your head in his direction. 

“What makes you think that?” you asked defensively and he laughed at your new disposition. 

“Cause it seemed like you were pretty eager to flirt with him.” you glared at your best friend for a moment, but decided to do nothing but roll your eyes. 

You quickly finished the rest of your pasta, anger slowly rising up in you. You didn’t tease him about the cafe girl, so why did he feel the need to tease you about Mingyu? Admittedly, it had been very easy for your mind to wander to thoughts of the tall and handsome stranger that you’d sadly only crossed paths with once, and you didn’t like the feeling of vulnerability very much at all. As much as you wanted to see him again, you were scared that the more you spent time with him, the weaker for him you’d become. It was cheesy, that you knew, but even after spending time with him on just a singular occasion, you were already smitten, and along with that, desperate to see him again. 

You woke up the next morning feeling surprisingly well rested. You had gone to bed relatively early, mostly because Wonwoo went to take a nap at around 7pm and never woke up. When you checked your phone, it was already 9:00, so you only had half an hour to get ready and head out the door, as your class started at 9:45 and the walk took about 10 minutes. 

You rolled out of bed and started getting ready for the day. After brushing your hair and teeth, applying some deodorant, and washing your face, you walked over to your closet and opened the door. 

You stood there, arms crossed and foot tapping against the carpeted floor of your bedroom. You were in a good mood and you wanted to show it, but the question was, how would you do so? You looked through everything on hangers and everything in drawers, and after way too long of a time, you finally decided on an outfit. 

You pulled a yellow dress with small flowers on it off of its hanger and grabbed a pair of white sneakers to match. It was a bit dressier than you were used to, but it called out to you for some reason. You put the dress on along with some socks and your shoes before grabbing your bag and exiting your room. 

Wonwoo was sitting on the couch with a bowl of cereal in his hands, his pajamas still on and his hair still messy from his slumber. 

“Don’t you have class this morning too?” you asked suspiciously as you grabbed a cup from one of your cabinets, as well as the juice from the refrigerator, and poured yourself a drink.

“Yeah, not until 12 though. Then right after that one ends I have another one.” he said. You could practically hear the future exhaustion in his voice.

“That’s what you get for taking two classes in a row.” you shrugged. “When will you be home?” 

“Probably around 3, you?” 

“Right after class, so I guess around noon.” you told him and he simply nodded, his eyes drooping slightly. “You should try and get some more sleep before class, okay?” 

You ruffled his hair with one hand and chugged the rest of your juice with the other, your gesture causing him to smile sweetly. After setting your empty glass in the sink, you headed out the door. 

The sun was shining and the breeze was the perfect speed. Your hair was blowing in the wind, but it was in the luxurious movie type way, not the messy way, so you were okay with it. 

Your English class this morning was in the same building as your class yesterday, but luckily it was downstairs. Sadly, downstairs was just as cold as upstairs and you had completely forgotten to bring a sweater. You sighed at your mistake, knowing the cold wouldn’t be easy to endure, as you approached your classroom and opened the door. Your jaw nearly dropped when you saw the size of it as it was about twice as big as the classroom you were in yesterday. 

You wandered in, wide eyed and curious. As you scanned the room, you recognized a tall, tan, and perfectly built male figure. When he turned around, your heart dropped.

Mingyu. 

As you were completely awestruck by Mingyu’s presence, you were totally unaware of the fact that he had seen you as well and was heading right toward you. 

“Y/n!” he said happily, snapping you out of your daze. 

“M-Mingyu! Hi...” you blushed, trying hard to maintain eye contact. His intimidating stare made you want to cower in fear and look away, but you didn’t want to appear as affected as you actually were. 

“I see you decided to keep your promise.” he smirked and you let out a light, mostly nervous laugh.

“Yeah,” you quickly debated what to say next, “I guess you could say I was eager to see you again.” you genuinely couldn’t believe that you got the words out without stuttering, but that being said, you were very proud of yourself.

He crossed his arms and licked his lips, a smug, confident look plastered on his face. “Well in that case,” he stepped closer, “would you sit with me?” 

You didn’t trust your voice any longer, so you nodded, probably a little too excitedly. He cocked his head as to say “follow me” and began walking up the stairs with you following closely behind.

He brought you to the 3rd row from the back, away from everyone else. It definitely confused you, but in an intriguing sort of way. When he sat down, you realized he didn’t have anything with him. No bag, no notebook. It seemed like he just had the clothes on his back. 

“Where’s your stuff?” you questioned, sitting down next to him, the material of the chair feeling cool against your thighs, causing a shiver to run down your spine. 

“Eh, don’t need any.” he said casually as he leaned back in his chair, his glorious thighs on display. You swallowed anxiously and tried not to stare at them.

“Why not?” you took out your laptop and turned it on, trying not to worry about Mingyu seeing and potentially judging the stickers you had put on it. 

“I have a good memory.” he shrugged. You didn’t believe it was possible that someone could pass a class without taking notes, but maybe he only brought nothing because it was the first day of class and there probably wouldn’t be much work to do anyway. 

Your professor walked in a few minutes after class was scheduled to start, but considering you made small talk with Mingyu while waiting for him, you didn’t mind. He was a short man with thick black hair and round glasses. A curious character, but he seemed interesting. 

He ran through the syllabus rather quickly and jumped right into the material, which Mingyu did not seem to be happy about. He kept raising his hand and asking questions in an attempt to stall, but the professor seemed to know the game Mingyu was trying to play and was not having it, so he answered all of his questions with a mere sentence and moved on.

Mingyu was clearly confident, and was probably pretty popular as well. With those things considered, why was he opting to sit with you? He was talking to people when you came in and had apparently just abandoned them for you. You blushed at the thought of him prioritizing you over his friends, but you also felt a pang of guilt. It was only his second time meeting you so… maybe he was just as enchanted by you as you were by him? 

Throughout class, you found yourself fascinated by every point your professor made. His perspective on literature was one you had never heard before and you were the utmost intrigued, attempting to type every word that came out of his mouth. 

Sometimes, Mingyu would lean forward and ask you a question or make a clever remark, but even you were surprised at how you brushed him off. As much as you enjoyed listening to Mingyu’s voice, you were surprisingly enjoying the content of the lesson just as much. He seemed to notice your intense focus after a few of his comments and decided to lay off. He simply admired the way you would unconsciously nod along with the professor’s words with a smile on his face instead.  

Your two-hour lecture was over far sooner than you would have liked, but you knew anything longer than 2 hours would probably kill most other students. You sighed contently and turned off your laptop before putting it back into your bag and facing Mingyu.

“So,” you smirked, “how much of the lesson do you remember?” you leaned on the edge of your desk and looked into his eyes.

He chuckled and leaned forward, lacing his fingers together on top of his desk. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” 

“I would, that’s why I asked.” you said smugly. 

“Well it usually takes a little while for the information to sink in,” he said and all you could do was roll your eyes. 

“I’m sure it does.” you said sarcastically and stood up, throwing your bag over your shoulder. Mingyu got up as well and walked over to stand right in front of you.

“I’ll even prove it to you, go to a party with me this weekend.” he proposed, catching you completely off guard. 

“A-a party? What does that have to do with English?” you weren’t exactly sure why you were questioning him, but you decided to blame it on your nerves. 

“Well we’ll be speaking won’t we?” he smiled as he stepped a little closer. You nodded and looked up into his eyes, which was a huge mistake. They were perfectly shaped and incredibly inviting, so it was definitely not going to be easy to say no. “Come? Please?” he asked quietly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Okay.” you said. You sounded more anxious than anything, but inside you were screaming like a little kid.

“Good,” he laughed, “I’ll text you the address later.” he said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He unlocked it and opened the contacts app before handing it to you. Your hands shook slightly as you put in your number and handed the phone back to him. 

“Can I walk you home?” he asked in a gentlemanly fashion, and again you nodded before you exited the classroom together. 

Mingyu offered to carry your bag for you, but you insisted that you could handle it yourself. You made small talk once more as you walked, simply enjoying his company. That being said, you were rather upset when you reached your front door.

“Thanks for walking me home.” you said, taking your key out of your bag.

“Don’t mention it,” he said sweetly. 

You opened the door to an empty apartment, and that was when you remembered Wonwoo was still in class. 

“Do you, uh… wanna come in?” you asked boldly, Mingyu simply smiling and nodding in response. You loved how much he smiled. 

“Your friend isn’t here is he?” he inquired, almost sounding nervous as he entered your apartment. 

“No,” you chuckled as you shut the door behind the pair of you. “Why, are you scared or something?” you teased, but he merely scoffed and sat down on your couch. 

“Of course not. We just didn’t hit it off very well last time.” he stated, eyes on the ground in front of him. It definitely seemed like Wonwoo wasn’t fond of your new, handsome acquaintance, but it wasn’t your place to speak for him, so you decided to change the subject. 

“Are you hungry?” you walked into your kitchen, “I can make you something.” you suggested.

“Hmm…” he pondered, “Whatcha got?” 

You looked in your refrigerator and in all of your cabinets and could only find one thing that was even remotely suitable for a proper meal.

“Uhh, ramen?” 

Mingyu looked at you for a moment before laughing and standing up. As he walked toward you, you wondered if you had somehow offended him by your offer.

“If anyone here is making ramen,” he placed his hands on your shoulders, “it’s me.” 

You furrowed your eyebrows at his comment as he walked past you, searching high and low for the proper size pot. Once he found it in one of your lower cabinets, he filled it with water and turned an eye of the stove on high before gently placing the pot on top of it. He then opened the cabinet in front of him, took out two packs of ramen, and put them next to the stove. He turned around and leaned against the counter next to the oven. “I’m kind of great at cooking. No big deal though.” he shrugged. You couldn’t help but laugh at his borderline cockiness. 

“I’ll make sure to keep that in mind.” you said in a sly voice as you stood directly in front of him. Your kitchen was on the small side and with Mingyu being as tall and broad as he was, you felt like the two of you were closer than you ever had been.

Admiration swarmed his brown orbs as he looked down at you. They were dangerously inviting. Subconsciously, you moved closer and closer to each other, until…

The water started boiling over the pot and spilling onto the stovetop. 

Mingyu heard it and immediately turned around, moving the pot off of the eye and turning the temperature down a few notches. Once the water had settled, he returned the pot to the eye that it was cooking on. 

“Guess that means it’s ready,” he mumbled before opening both packages of ramen and putting both blocks into the pot. “Sorry…” he said almost inaudibly. You didn’t know if he was talking about the ramen or the two of you almost kissing, but you decided you didn’t really want to find out and changed the subject. 

“So where did you learn how to make such amazing ramen?” you attempted to tease, though you were still on edge. 

“Well…”

Mingyu then proceeded to tell you (more like brag) about how he’d always had a knack for cooking, along with the fact that his taste buds were, in a word, immaculate. You simply nodded along and let him talk, finding joy in how passionate he seemed to be about culinary arts. It’s hard to think of merely making ramen as any type of art, but he had convinced you that he had mastered the art of making all types of dishes. You told him you’d believe it when you saw it as he added the flavor packets into the ramen and split the noodles into two bowls. He handed one to you and you thanked him before grabbing two pairs of chopsticks from a drawer and heading over to your couch. 

You sat down next to each other and ate in a comfortable silence. You didn’t want to tell him and feed his ego, but the ramen he made was easily the best you’d ever had. Once the two of you had finished eating, you leaned back against your couch and looked at each other. 

“What do we do now?” Mingyu asked. You couldn’t know for sure, but it seemed like there was an underlying playfulness in his voice, like he was hinting at something. Your mind went back to barely 10 minutes ago, when you could have sworn you were about to kiss, and your cheeks instantly turned a bright red color. You broke eye contact and stared at the ceiling nervously.

“We could, uh… watch a movie I guess? Unless you have somewhere to be...” you played with the hem of your shirt, anxiously awaiting his answer.

“Y/n?” he said sweetly, causing you to return your eyes to his. “I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be right now.” his body was turned toward you and his head was resting on top of a couch cushion, making his cheek look extra squeezable. You blushed even harder and tried not to smile as widely as you felt you could; how was he so smooth? Usually someone being so blatant about their feelings for you, especially so early on into knowing you, would be a total turn off for you. It was just something about the way Mingyu carried himself that made you swoon so easily. He’s confident without being cocky, knows how to flirt with you in a way that doesn’t make you uncomfortable, and was just extremely enjoyable and easy to be around. You knew someone this great was bound to have some hidden baggage, toxicity, or secret that would eventually come to light, but you tucked that thought into the back of your mind and decided to enjoy the happy times while you still had them. 

“Here,” you handed him your TV remote, “pick whatever you want.” you took his bowl and yours and set them on the coffee table in front of you. When you sat up straight again, Mingyu had his arm over the back of the couch He ended up choosing something animated that kind of seemed like it could be a kid’s movie, but it looked entertaining, so you had no complaints. 

The plot of the movie actually seemed to be really good, but you were missing some parts of it because you were drifting in and out of sleep the entire time. It was probably because Mingyu was so warm and comfortable along with the fact that actively listening and taking diligent notes in class wore you out, despite getting a good night’s sleep. 

By the end of the movie, you had fallen asleep against his shoulder. He was unsure of what to do as you looked so peaceful. He decided he would take a few moments to admire you before waking you up as gently as possible. 

He took the time to really look at your features, almost studying you. He noticed the way your top lip curved, the height of your cheekbones, the complexion of your skin. In all his years of living, even after having known thousands of women, you were easily one of the most beautiful. You also intrigued him, and though it was only his second time meeting you, he’d been alive long enough to know when someone was worth his time. 

“Y/n,” he whispered, shaking your body slightly.

You awoke in a startle, immediately sitting up and trying to remember what was happening when you fell asleep. 

“Oh god,” you put your face in your hands in embarrassment, “I’m sorry.” you told him when you remembered that you completely knocked out during what was supposed to be ~quality time~. 

“It’s fine, really. I should probably go anyway.” he said. You felt bad, as you didn’t want him to feel like he was boring or easy to fall asleep around, but when you checked the time, you saw that Wonwoo would be coming home soon. You really didn’t feel like trying to endure or get rid of that level of tension, especially in your tired state. 

“Yeah, my roommate will be home soon…” you didn’t want to finish your sentence in fear of sounding rude, but Mingyu understood exactly what you meant. 

“He doesn’t exactly like me, does he?” he chuckled as he stood up, offering his hand to you. You smiled and took it, getting up from the couch. 

“You’re just… new. He doesn’t really do well with new.” you shrugged as you walked him over to the door. “Sorry again for falling asleep, I promise it had nothing to do with you.” you reassured him.

“Don’t worry about it. I had a really nice time.” he told you and you smiled up at him.

“Me too.”

“See you this weekend?” he asked hopefully as he reached for the door handle. 

“See you this weekend.” 

“A party? No.” Wonwoo said, immediately shutting down your idea. You had invited him to attend this weekend’s party with you, but it was a shot in the dark in the first place.

“Come on!” you whined, sitting down next to him on his bed. “I don’t usually like going to them either, but this one could be fun…” you tried to reason with him.

“Yeah? Why is that?” he paused the video game he was playing and looked over at you. You looked down at his comforter, twiddling your fingers in fear of his response. 

“Because Mingyu invited me.” you said in the quietest voice possible. 

“Mingyu? Seriously?” he said defensively, a rather disgusted look on his face. You simply nodded, then proceeded to give him the purest puppy dog eye look known to man. He let out a long sigh. “You’re gonna go whether I’m with you or not aren’t you?” you nodded again, smiling innocently at him, despite the not-so-innocent situation. Another sigh left his lips, this one more exasperated than the first. “Fine, I’ll go. But only because I don’t trust him.” he pointed his finger at you and resumed his game, which told you the conversation was over. 

“Thank youuuu!” you said, very content with how surprisingly easy it was to get him to agree. You didn’t particularly like making him do something he didn’t want to do, but you also knew he’d drive himself crazy sitting at home wondering what you could be doing or why you weren’t answering your phone. You were also hoping he would make a friend that wasn’t coffee shop girl. Preferably someone who wasn’t interested in him sexually or romantically. 

It was around 10 o’clock now, you had already showered and were in your pajamas, so you felt like there was nothing keeping you from going to bed. You shouted a “goodnight” to Wonwoo and headed into your room. 

You fell onto your bed with an ‘oof’ before rolling over to where your nightstand was. You turned off your lamp, grabbed your phone, and rolled over to your other side. As soon as you began scrolling through one of your SNS accounts, you got a phone call.

From Mingyu.

Assuming that him calling meant that something was extremely wrong, you answered with no hesitation.

“Hello?” you said, worry evident in your voice. 

“Hey y/n, you okay?” he asked you, sounding way more calm than you expected him to.

“Yeah, are you okay?” you were now sitting up on your elbow in utter confusion in terms of his reason for calling. 

“Yeah. I just, uh, wanted to talk… is that weird?” he half-laughed at the end. You bit your lip in excitement. 

“No, not really. I guess I’m just surprised.” you said, feeling at peace enough to lay back down. 

“And why is that?” he questioned smugly.

“Well for one, no one really calls anymore.” you teased, even though you were more than okay with talking to him, despite the fact that you’d seen him earlier today.

“Let’s just say I’m old fashioned.” he reasoned.

“Alright, I’m okay with that.” you replied, smiling for a reason you couldn’t seem to point out. He’s really just that charming.

“Good. Soooo what’s your favorite color?” 

During your 2-hour phone call, Mingyu asked you all types of get-to-know questions. He wanted to know your favorite animal, subject, food, favorite place to be, along with things like places you wanted to travel, where you wanted to settle down and live someday, and even if you wanted kids. You would ask him the same questions in return, and you both insisted that you explained your answers. Though the questions were pretty surface level, you felt like you knew a lot more about Mingyu and felt a lot closer to him. 

Every night leading up to Saturday was filled with Mingyu’s phone calls as well. Only with each passing night, the questions became more revealing. Sometimes they’d be ethical, political, or even questions about your previous relationships. You only really had Joshua to tell about, and Mingyu didn’t seem to have much to tell about either, though it kind of felt like he was holding back when it came to the romance topic. Even though you were curious, you didn’t push it.

You were nervous to see Mingyu after getting to know him almost entirely over the phone, but at the same time, your heart skipped beats at the thought of being with him again. 

You woke up on Saturday morning, anxiety along with pure adrenaline coursing through your veins as you thought about what would happen later that day. You knew you would be seeing Mingyu and you knew it would be at a party, so alcohol could easily be involved, and you were nearly jumping out of your skin thinking about what else could potentially happen. You weren’t necessarily expecting anything wild or super memorable to happen, but you definitely felt like there was a possibility for it. You got out of bed begrudgingly, knowing that your mind would be filled with nothing but thoughts of seeing Mingyu for the entire day. 

When you stumbled into the living room, you found Wonwoo asleep on the couch. You let out a quiet laugh and rolled your eyes. You didn’t even want to know how he went from sleeping in his bed to sleeping on the couch, but you tried to be as quiet as possible nonetheless. 

You got a pan from the cabinet and a carton of eggs from your sad, nearly empty refrigerator. Upon putting the pan on the stovetop and turning it on, you heard your best friend stirring on the couch. You turned to look at him and he was sitting up, his face confused and his hair a mess. 

“Well good morning, did you sleep walk out here?” you asked as he stood up slowly made his way toward you.

“You know, it’s very possible, but I have no idea.” he replied, causing you to chuckle. He sat on the counter next to the stove and noticed that you were making breakfast. “Make me some?” you simply nodded in response and cracked four eggs into the pan, scrambling them as they cooked. Wonwoo made himself useful and grabbed two plates from the cabinet behind his head and placed them next to him by the stove. Once the eggs were done, you separated them onto the two plates evenly, turned off the stovetop, and walked over to your couch, breakfast and utensils in hand. 

“Don’t you think we should get a table at some point?” Wonwoo asked as the two of you sat down. 

“I mean technically we have a table,” you said as you motioned to the small, low-rising coffee table in front of you. “Is our twenty dollar, secondhand, barely holding itself together coffee table not good enough for you? Has college changed you?” you teased as you started eating. 

“No, I just feel like most grown ups have a table you can actually dine at.” he shrugged. You gave him a weird look, as you didn’t really know why it mattered to him so much, and continued with your eggs. 

“Are you excited for the party tonight?” you asked after a few minutes of egg-eating filled silence. You knew the answer was most likely no, but you were mostly asking because you weren’t sure if he even remembered that he agreed to go. 

“Ugh,” he groaned, “that’s tonight?” he looked at you in distaste. You replied with a simple nod and he threw his head back in defeat. “Why did I agree to go again?” 

“Because you loooove me.” you said playfully, smiling as you took the last bite of your breakfast. You watched your best friend turn beet red and avoid your eyes before you stood up and walked over to the sink, putting your plate inside of it. 

You then went into your room to grab your phone. When you picked it up, you felt your heart flutter at one of the notifications. 

Mingyu had texted you. 

You ignored everything else on the screen and opened his message. 

From: Mingyu

“phi kappa alpha house

10pm 

don’t be late ;)”

For mystery purposes, you decided not to respond, but you clutched your phone in extreme excitement, a smile on your face. The party was still half a day away and you honestly had no idea how you were going to pass the time. You thought about going shopping, but now that you were an unemployed, full-time college student you were officially saving any money you could get your hands on. Though thankfully, you lived with your best friend, and hanging out with him would surely help the time go quickly. After all, time flies when you’re having fun!

You exited your room and sat back down next to Wonwoo on the couch. 

“What should we do today?” you asked him. He merely shrugged, his eyes locked on his phone. “We could watch movies, or a TV show, or we could play video games…” you rambled, Wonwoo’s head suddenly whipping in your direction. 

“You wanna play a video game?” surprise was evident in his voice, but you just shrugged. 

“I honestly have nothing better to do.”

Wonwoo was not about to pass up the opportunity to play video games with you. It was one of his favorite activities and something that you basically never showed interest in, so with that being said, the two of you went into his room and played virtually every game Wonwoo owned. You ended up liking League of Legends a lot more than you were expecting to, which made your best friend extraordinarily happy. 

You spent the most time playing that one, Wonwoo refusing to admit that he let you win a couple of times. Around 2pm your stomach started growling, so Wonwoo basically forced you to stop playing and eat something. You didn’t want to, but you knew he was in the right for making sure you ate. 

After that, you played for about one more hour before you got bored. However, you were comfortably situated in Wonwoo’s bed and did not by any means feel like moving, so Wonwoo simply put on a movie for the two of you to watch. And then another one. And then you watched a few episodes of a TV show until finally, the moment had arrived. It was time to get ready. 

You excitedly jumped out of Wonwoo’s bed and ran into your room, shouting at him to get ready as well before closing your door.

You picked up your phone and shuffled your playlist, wanting to add to the anticipation with some music. After that, you opened your closet and stood in front of it. You looked through all of your drawers, but found nothing even remotely appropriate for a party. You then looked through all of the clothes that you kept on hangers, and right when you were about to give up hope, you saw it. The little black dress. 

You had bought it in high school, specifically for partying purposes, but you hadn’t gotten much use out of it since you purchased it. You only really went to parties when it was a friend’s birthday or graduation party, so needless to say it had likely been worn less than 10 times. You felt like it was an extremely cliché outfit to wear, but it was the most fitting outfit for the event you were about to attend. 

You took it out of the deepest part of your closet and gave it a look of distaste. It wasn’t ugly, it was just not the way you were used to dressing. You figured you could have dressed like normal, but you didn’t want to stand out in an underwhelming sort of way, so you decided that since it was your first college party, you would dress the part. 

You changed into the small, black article of clothing and immediately felt uncomfortable. Luckily, you had a little under an hour to get used to it before you had to leave. 

You grabbed your makeup bag off of your dresser and laid everything you needed out in front of you. A full face of makeup was another thing you didn’t wear very often, but you had to admit that you really enjoyed doing it. Seeing the finished product also gave you a decently sized boost of confidence most of the time. 

You took more time than usual, as you actually had a decent amount of time to do it, and you wanted it to look as good as possible. As for your hair, you figured you’d just run a straightener through it a few times right before you left and hope for the best. 

As you got ready, you wondered why Mingyu hadn’t reached out to you at all today except for when he told you the information about the party. On one hand, you didn’t respond, so maybe he took that as you not wanting to talk? Which wasn’t by any means true, you weren’t really sure why you didn’t respond, you just knew that no matter the reason, the suspense you were feeling would make seeing Mingyu again much more exciting.

You applied your foundation diligently and followed up with some bronzer, blush, and highlighter before finishing off with some eyeshadow and mascara. It was a pretty basic look, but still more intense than normal. You grabbed your hair straightener from the bathroom and plugged it in by your mirror, slipping your socks and shoes on while you waited for it to heat up. While you were willing to sacrifice your normal clothing, you weren’t so keen on replacing your usual tennis shoes with heels, so you paired your dress with a pair of Converse instead. 

You quickly checked the time on your phone and it read 9:58, which meant you’d be a little late, but you were hoping it seemed more fashionable than forgetful. You straightened your hair as quickly as possible and looked in the mirror one last time. “Wow,” you thought, “you did good y/n.” Giving yourself a mental pat on the back, you unplugged your straightener, grabbed your phone, and exited your room. 

Wonwoo was standing in the kitchen with his back to you. Though you couldn’t see his face, you could tell he looked good. Like good good. He had chosen a pair of black skinny jeans and a white t-shirt that fit him perfectly. Okay it was a super basic outfit, but the way he made it look so good, and from the back of all angles, was the impressive part. 

“You ready?” you asked, grabbing your house key off of the coffee table. 

“I’ve been ready for like 40 minutes.” he laughed under his breath as he turned around to face you. When his eyes landed on you, they widened to twice their size. “Woah…” he walked toward you. “What is this?!” he exclaimed, using his hand to motion the length of your body.

“Uh, party clothes?” 

He looked at you and you couldn’t tell if he was impressed or judging you. You gave him a look that said something along the lines of “stop looking at me like that” and eventually, he shook himself out of it. 

“Do I look bad or something?” you asked, a hint of anxiety in your voice as you handed him the key and headed toward the door. He shook his head no as he opened the door, motioning for you to exit first.

“No,” he said as he closed the door behind you, “it’s just… weird.” 

He locked the door and began leading the way, considering he knew where the frat house was for some reason. 

“So it’s weird when I look good now? Thanks, rock bottom feels great.” you joked as you walked, arms crossed partially because you were cold and partially because you were feeling self-conscious now that you’d left the house.

“Shut up, you always look good. You just look different.” he said sternly, tucking the key into his pocket. You felt yourself starting to blush, but you knew he meant it platonically. He didn’t like it when you talked down on yourself. You didn’t like it when he spoke poorly of himself either, but luckily he did it way less often than you. Wonwoo was confident, but he was also very humble, and you thought that was a huge part of his appeal. 

You walked in silence, taking in the nighttime sights of your university town. It was quite pretty, but you often didn’t notice as you were rushing to class or scrolling through your phone most of the time. It was a smaller town, but you preferred it that way anyway. 

After about 10 minutes or so, you approached a house with very few lights on that had music blasting through the walls. It had some discarded red cups and a sign with Greek letters in the front lawn, and though you couldn’t read them, it was safe to assume that this was the house you were supposed to be at.

As you and Wonwoo approached the house, you noticed that there was a gaggle of people on the front porch. When you got up to the door, Wonwoo stopped to say hi to one of them. He was on the shorter side with high cheekbones and a cute smile. Before Wonwoo could introduce you, he spoke up. 

“Who’s this?” he asked, motioning to you with the hand that had a drink in it. 

“I’m y/n,” you replied. Normally when meeting someone Wonwoo knew, you would want him to introduce you, but this guy had an inviting way about him.

“Y/n? That’s pretty, I’m Seungkwan.” he said kindly and you simply nodded in response. “Oh Wonwoo, you know Jina’s here right?” the shorter male said before sending your best friend a knowing smirk. 

You furrowed your eyebrows. Jina? You figured that must be coffee shop girl. Gross.

“Oh really? Thanks.” he said, excitement lacking in his voice. He began walking inside, so you followed suit. 

“See you later! Nice to meet you y/n!” Seungkwan yelled after you. You waved at him with a smile and entered the large, testosterone-filled house. It was crowded with college students and was way more packed than any party you’d ever been to. 

Your anxiety suddenly spiked at the thought of finally seeing Mingyu. The whole frat party scene was one you weren’t used to, so that wasn’t making you feel any better. Your hands started sweating and your heart was beating much faster than normal. You played with your fingers as you scanned the room for Mingyu’s tall figure. 

“You okay?” Wonwoo yelled over the music, clearly taking note of your shift in mood. You simply nodded and continued looking for Mingyu, hoping that finally seeing him would relieve most, if not all, of your anxiety. It also could make it worse, you thought, but you decided to wait and see. 

“I’m gonna get a drink, do you want anything?” 

“No, it’s okay,” you yelled in response, “I think I’m gonna look for Mingyu.” 

Though it was clear in his facial expression that he disapproved, he nodded and wandered into the kitchen while you made your way into the sea of college kids. 

Since you couldn’t see Mingyu standing up, you assumed he either hadn’t arrived yet or was sitting down somewhere. There was a clump of couches by the stairs, so you decided to check there first. After weaving your way through the maze of sweaty college kids, you finally approached them, and low and behold, Mingyu was sitting on the loveseat against the wall. Though he was surrounded by people, he was only talking to the significantly smaller male that was sitting next to him.

You wormed your way through another mob of people to get near him, and the moment he saw you, he flashed you the prettiest smile you’d ever seen. The butterflies in your stomach swarmed worse than ever before as he stood up to greet you. 

“Hi.” he said in a sultry voice, a small smile still present on his face. 

“Hi.” you beamed. 

“Wanna go somewhere quiet?” he asked as he gently caressed your arm before taking your hand in his. You nodded without a second thought. 

He started walking toward the back of the house in which there was a large sliding glass door. When you reached them, he slid one open and stepped outside with you. There were still people out there, but not nearly as many. 

He took you over to a large white cooler that was against the wall of the house and opened it. Though you couldn’t really see its contents due to the darkness, you reached in and grabbed 2 of whatever your hand landed on. He had chosen a beer for himself, which didn’t really surprise you. 

Finally, he walked you to a wooden staircase that led to the roof of the house. You climbed up behind him and once you reached the top, you were amazed to see that there was no one else up there. 

“Do people not know they can come up here or something?” you asked, sitting on the lone wooden bench that was sitting in the middle of the roof.

“I think they do, but most people that go to parties actually want to be surrounded by other people, you know.” he joked as he sat next down next to you. You smiled at his playfulness and looked over at him.

The moonlight accentuated his already perfect features, making your heart skip a beat. He took a sip of his drink and looked over at you, smirking when he realized that you were staring. 

“See something you like?” he teased, running his hand through his hair for added dramatic effect. 

“Yeah,” you admitted shamelessly, “I do.” 

You didn’t try to hide your face, shy away, or even blush. The night was making you feel bold, though you weren’t exactly sure why. Your relationship with Mingyu already felt so easy, you were extremely comfortable with him. After all, you’d basically told him everything about your life up until this point, and his responses to your experiences were wise beyond his years. Whenever you’d thought you’d done something bad or wrong, Mingyu always came up with a reason as to why what you did made sense. The way he never once judged you for anything you told him, even when it came to your more shameful moments, made you feel like you could trust him. He made you feel safe. 

The more you thought about it, the more you realized you didn’t want to let yourself think too much. Though you were already saying things that were out of the ordinary for you, you didn’t want to let your thoughts leave your head, at least not right now. That being decided, you made the choice to open one of the cans in your hand and down it in one go, because getting drunk totally wouldn’t put you in the position to say exactly what you’re thinking, right?

When you downed the last sip of bitter alcohol, you moved the can away from your face and brought it down into your lap. Mingyu was looking at you like you had two heads, but his expression only made you laugh.

“What? Impressed?” you looked at him teasingly, but he just shook his head in disbelief. 

“More like terrified. Please tell me you’ve eaten today?” he whined, concern lace in his voice. You could only smile in response. 

“Not since lunchtime!” you said perkily, setting the empty can down by your feet and picking up the full one. You knew drinking on a stomach wasn’t the smartest idea, but you figured you’d need a decent amount in your system if you wanted to do anything more with Mingyu than talk. And honestly, you wanted to. 

When you sat back up, Mingyu had his arm stretched out on top of the bench, giving you a spot to cuddle up next to him. You leaned against him and rested your head on his shoulder, his scent filling your senses. His presence was familiar and comforting, and that’s when something suddenly dawned on you. 

“Doesn’t this all feel a little… fast to you?” you asked, looking up into his soft brown orbs. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Maybe it’s just me,” you sat up straight so you could look at him head-on, “but I really like you. Like really like you, but it’s only what, the third time I’ve seen you in person? I feel like it’s weird...” you asked mostly because if he felt the same way then you would feel way less strange about having caught feelings for him so fast. The only person you had ever really had feelings for was Joshua, and you didn’t even know if that situation really fell under the “crush” category. 

“I don’t think it’s weird,” he shrugged, taking a sip of his beer. 

“Really?” you took a long sip of your drink.

“No. If someone’s right for you then they’re right for you,” he smiled reassuringly at you. “And if liking someone so quickly is weird, then I guess we’re both pretty odd.” 

You felt your cheeks heat up and your stomach begin to do flips at his words. You smiled at him, clearly smitten, and getting lost in his eyes as you leaned closer to him without even realizing what you were doing. You stopped when you could feel his breath on your skin. 

“Have you been drinking?” he asked sarcastically, booping your nose lightly.

“Yes,” you giggled, “but you’re the most intoxicating thing here.” 

All traces of playfulness disappeared when you looked down at his lips. They were the most enticing shade of pink, along with being the perfect size and shape to send you spiraling.  

“Y/n, we don’t-“

“Shhh, shut up.” you dropped the can behind you before grabbing his face and slamming his lips onto yours. They were just as soft as they looked and felt heavenly against yours. You kissed him passionately, saying everything you couldn’t say with words. 

Mingyu’s hand moved to your waist as your lips moved in sync, squeezing lightly as a low groan left his mouth. The sound went straight to your core, a whimper leaving your lips as you swung your leg over his body. You moved your hands to the back of his neck, kissing him even deeper.

His hands immediately moved to your ass, pulling you as close to him as he possibly could. His tongue slid into your mouth and it took everything in you to suppress the sounds your body so desperately wanted to make. You ran your fingers through his hair, a light sweat making its way onto your skin. 

You pulled away from the kiss, panting heavily, and kept your hands in Mingyu’s hair. You looked into his eyes before he buried his face in your neck. Then strangely, he had stopped all activity. You tried moving his lips closer to your neck, but he wouldn’t budge. 

“Mingyu?” you looked down at him. His eyes were glued to the place where your bodies met, his chest rising and falling heavily. “Mingyu what’s wrong?” you asked, trying to make eye contact, but completely failing. 

“We should stop.” he said sternly, removing his hands from your body. 

Your heart dropped. Did you do something wrong? Did he all of a sudden change his mind about you? You were finally feeling the alcohol in your veins, which wasn’t by any means helping the situation. 

“D-did I do something w-”

“No, no it’s not you. I just think I should go inside.” he avoided eye contact and attempted to move your body off of his, but you felt you were entitled to a slightly more descriptive explanation. 

“Wait, can you just tell me why-” 

“Y/n please-” he wrestled you off of his lap as gently as he could until you were standing. He tried to head for the stairs, but you grabbed his wrist before he could get there. 

“Mingyu what is going on?!” you exclaimed, and Mingyu whipped around in response. Only he looked different. Much different. His irises were almost completely black, his eyes rimmed with red.

And in his mouth were two long, sharp fangs.

a/n: so,,,,,,,,,,,,, long, filler chapter, and FANGS!!!!!!!!!! i’m sure u saw it coming but .. now u know :D i’m not super proud of this but i hope you all like it :( i’ll have the next chapter up as soon as possible but i did just start classes again so i’m not sure when that will be </3 i’ll try to make it uuuuh not super long sskdkdks

[writersrealmbts]

Clearwater Springs: Part 1

Description: ot7 x reader, reader’s choice, fairy/supernatural/soulmate au. The choices you make influence the story! In this world, war-torn and ragged, you’ve been offered a home and a job working as a librarian. Will you meet your soulmates? Will you ever find the shelves behind the piles of books? Who knows.

Warnings: None

Posted: 08/29/2020

Tags: ot7 x reader, supernatural bts, 

5,111 words

A/N: Once I was actually able to write, this came out really easily. I hope you guys enjoy it and don’t forget to do the pre-chapter 2 survey (link at the end of post)! 

You stared up at the house in a bit of a daze, still untethered. Still vulnerable.

“Isn’t it magnificent?! A real masterpiece, this house.”

You glanced at your over-enthusiastic caseworker, then looked back up at the grand Victorian house, wondering if the inside matched the outside, and why such a grand house was way out in the middle of nowhere. Why its owner would offer to take in strays, misfits, and others in need of a new home after the recent war when they were obviously still doing well despite the near economic collapse.

Your caseworker was practically bouncing up to the house, making you dizzy as he jostled the itty-bitty fountain you were temporarily tied to.

But you’d been dealing with that for a month, and you were getting pretty good at walking a straight line while the world appeared to spin around you.

“Now, if you and he agree at the end of the day, you’ll be tethered to a natural spring and the creek it runs into nearby, and you’ll stay in one of the spare rooms and you’ll help him organize and keep his library, which he runs as a traditional library—when organized—for some of the locals.”

You didn’t bother responding since he didn’t seem to be looking for a response, instead heavily trodding up to the front door as he rang the doorbell.

“Also, to simulate what life will be like, I’ll be leaving you for the day once I set your fountain down in a safe spot.”

“You said,” You murmured, closing your eyes for a moment, feeling yourself swaying from side to side. As a xana, you were originally tethered to a fountain many miles away, but as the war reached that town, your fountain had been damaged and your original workplace—a large library where you specialized in the children’s section, reading to them and singing your songs—utterly demolished. Because the fountain wasn’t completely destroyed, you survived. An experimental spell and three weeks later and there you were, standing on the steps of the home of a human where you would be exchanging work for a place to sleep and food to eat. You didn’t even need that much food, about a meal a day was enough for you when your tethered place was healthy and strong and not being jerked around like a dog was playing tug-of-war with it.

The front door opened, revealing a man with pink hair. “Hello, you must be Y/n. We’ve been expecting you. Welcome to Clearwater Springs.”

“We?” You asked, glancing at your worker.

The human did as well. “You told her about the house’s haltija, right?”

You relaxed. “Oh. Just a haltija?”

“Well, he’s also half-brownie, but thankfully that only manifests in the occasional clumsy or destructive moment. He’s quite friendly, though, and very fond of the forest,” The human spoke quickly, as though afraid you would pass negative judgement on the haltija—creatures who were known for guarding and protecting—for having brownie blood—admittedly, creatures who could become troublesome when disrespected, but otherwise also keepers of the home and chore-doers for the kind.

“I’m sure he’s very kind and gentle,” You replied.

“Right. And you’re a xana?”

You nodded.

“And...I’m sorry, I’m not sure what exactly that is, other than the fact that you’re generally tied to some form of pure water, like fountains, springs, rivers, waterfalls….”

You nodded. “I’m originally from a fountain. Um...I’m not sure how to explain what I am.”

Your caseworker took that hint. “Oh! Right, well, they seem to always know virtuous hearts through some test or other—though no one ever seems to be able to pin down the test—um, they have enchanted songs that bring feelings of peace and love to the pure and could almost kill those who are impure. Um, let’s see, she has combs made of moonbeams and sunlight, respectively. Can’t completely care for babies, but once they can feed themselves she’s fine.”

You frowned, fighting yourself not to glare at him. Your species couldn’t produce milk, so in the old days—before there was formula—it was a sort of changeling situation. A Xanino would replace a human child. Terrible, but true. Nowadays, most xaninos were adopted by naiads or other nature or house spirits—because now it was scandalous to try and raise your own child as a xana.

“Oh, she has treasure, but who knows where she keeps that—”

“It’s enchanted, you’re not supposed to know where I keep it,” You muttered, even though he wasn’t paying any attention to you.

“And she can give you a drink that we call ‘Love water’. Couldn’t tell you why, and I’ve never seen her hand it out. Think that’s it. Here’s her fountain, I’ll be back at sundown.”

The human almost dropped the fountain that was shoved into his hands, and if he wasn’t so surprised you thought he might have yelled at your caseworker.

But the car peeled down the driveway again, kicking up dirt.

You stared after him, a little disconcerted. “Mages.”

“Um, well, we’ve been preparing for your arrival. We’ve gotten the basement bathroom renovated so that you can shower or bathe in the waters of your spring when you need, and your bedroom is ready for you. We thought you’d prefer to decorate it with your things...but looking back now I probably should have known you wouldn’t have many things. It’s a hard time for everyone,” The human rambled, rubbing his neck. “Oh, I’m Seokjin, by the way.”

“Oh, yes, I suppose your name would be important. I’d hate to be rude and just refer to you as ‘The Human” when you’re my boss.”

Seokjin looked startled at the title. “I’d rather think of it as a partnership. I’ve been told I shouldn’t live alone, and you needed a new home. Also, my library is out of control and I have no idea where to start—I mean, other than the new library building that we just finished. Don’t worry, it’s very close to your water source as well, but your spring is still highly protected.”

You just nodded, wondering why he didn’t stare like most humans did. You were beautiful—that was one of the key points of defining a xana: being extraordinarily beautiful. Xana’s were considered more beautiful than any other species—and only a few other species even tried to contend with it since yours was more rare, and therefore more worth the attention.

“Um, let’s get inside so I can set this down. We’ll make sure Namjoon steers completely clear of it.” Seokjin stepped back and leaned his head in a gesture that suggested welcoming you inside and to follow him.

He led the way through the entry, and then to the living room through the arch immediately to the right. He took the fountain and placed it on a table that was against the wall—out of the way of general traffic. “There. Now, Namjoon should be around somewhere. Probably the garden, he likes it out there. But for now let me show you the house, including where you’ll be staying and then we’ll go and talk about the library. There’s a lot of work that I want to do, Namjoon is heavily involved in that too. He likes books, but between us...we don’t really have the skills to put what we want into action—which is why we’re really excited that you’re here.” He started the tour.

“I’ll do my best to h-hell, what is this hell?” You said, looking at the mess. It looked somewhat like a library, except you couldn’t even see the shelves. It was just piles upon piles of books, newspapers, journals, magazines, and comic books with a thin path between it all.

Seokjin winced. “It is...mildly organized. We’ve been receiving donations. Don’t worry, there will be a bigger place, we mostly just need to pack all of this up and move it to the new facility in an...organized fashion.”

You pointed at the mix of magazines and books. “This is organized.”

“I did say somewhat, didn’t I? We had a large influx of books very suddenly. Things got very messy in the chaos of it all. I think they were sending us books from destroyed libraries.” He shrugged a bit. “Don’t worry. We’ll be helping at every turn and I’m bringing in extra workers from town as needed.”

You supposed that was supposed to be comforting, but you were staring at a nightmare of a situation. One toppling tower, and there was no navigating through.

“Hyung? Is that you?” The pile asked.

Then it was all falling over and someone was diving out while Seokjin pulled you against the wall and out of the way.

Seokjin sighed. “Namjoon. Our guest is here.”

The man with blue hair looked up, then back at his legs (which were trapped under many books), then back at you. He stared at you with big eyes, looking a little flustered.

You took a deep breath. “Well, that is exactly what we didn’t want to happen.”

“Yeah. Namjoon, didn’t we talk about not going in there?” Seokjin bent down and grabbed Namjoon under the arms and pulled him out from the pile, helping him to his feet.

“I just wanted the next book in my series.” Namjoon rubbed the back of his neck. “I was doing okay until then.”

Seokjin shook his head a bit. “Namjoonie, this is y/n. She’s the one that’s going to stay with us and help with the library?”

Namjoon was definitely already staring at you, and he looked a little flustered and red. “Hi.”

“She’s a xana. Y/n, this is Namjoon, the haltija of the house.”

“Uh, nice to meet you,” Namjoon said hurriedly.

“Nice to meet you, too,” You replied, trying for a smile, but you were pretty sure you just gave him a woozy look.

“Maybe you should lie down before we continue the house tour? He was jostling your fountain around quite a bit.” Seokjin frowned toward the front door.

Namjoon nodded. “He’s right. You need rest. I can tell.”

You shrugged. “Nah, the world is supposed to be constantly spinning.”

“Should I carry her? Should I carry you?” Seokjin asked, sounding and looking a little panicked.

You shrugged. “I’m fine. This has been my life for the past three months.”

Namjoon’s eyes widened.

Seokjin looked like he was going to have a meltdown.

“Unless you’re going to have a panic attack, in which case you may carry me if it will help you,” You said quickly, concerned with how quickly he was freaking out.

Namjoon glanced at the human, then nodded. “I think that might be the only way to stall him out. He’s not wearing his glasses.”

You shrugged again, uncertain what not having glasses had to do with anything, and waited while Namjoon muttered something to Seokjin.

A couple moments later, Seokjin came over, muttering something about being sorry, then he carefully scooped you up. “Sorry, your dress is a little slippery. Silk?”

You nodded. “Yeah. My clothes just sort of...appear as I need them? Usually made of silk, but sometimes there’s a velvet cloak when it’s colder. Some linen when it’s warmer. Always dresses.”

“Cool,” Namjoon said, following the two of you up the stairs.

“I suppose so,” You replied, doing your best not to look at Seokjin. He was handsome for a human. And you’d never seen a non-fairy pull off pink hair before today. He had a sort of gentleness to his face, a softness that could easily become cold and judgemental. If that even made sense.

But honestly, there were very few things that made sense since the war had begun some ten years ago.

“Why is your hair blue?” You asked the haltija, looking over Seokjin’s shoulder as you realized you had been looking at him despite specifically thinking you shouldn’t and only noticing because his ears had started turning a violent shade of red.

“Oh...uh...we’re not really sure. It just sort of...changes now and then. A few days ago I woke up and it was this color. Before that it had been brown.”

“Did you two paint any part of the house?”

“Well, not in the same time frame as my hair color changing. And definitely not this color. Jin-hyung has this crazy theory that it’s connected to my soulmate or something.”

“You have a soulmate?” You asked, surprised.

He nodded, rubbing his left shoulder-pectoral area, which meant either his mark was located there or he had some muscle pain from his dive for freedom in the great August book-slide. “Yeah. Or...well, I have multiple sections in my mark...so, I guess I’m part of a soul-group. Probably a platonic one given my species.”

“You never know what’s waiting around the riverbend,” You replied, thinking back to Grandma Loire’s wise words when you had been fretting about the war. Granted, at that time, her words had been very wrong, but you wouldn’t begrudge the dead for their mistakes.

But also thinking about your own soulmark and the multiple parts in it. You were certain it was just a coincidence, but it was still an interesting fact that you filed away.

“You sound like a naiad,” Namjoon snorted.

“A naiad told me that. She was very wrong at the time. Told me not to worry about the battle in Manhattan.”

“Ooh,” He winced. “Very wrong.”

Seokjin held onto you a little tighter. “Where did you live before this?”

“Rocamadour. Our library was new when I started working there. Before there were a couple but they were in some towns over.”

“Where is that?” Namjoon asked.

“It’s in the Alps,” Seokjin answered, then paused at the top of the stairs. “Get the door?”

The door swung open before Seokjin had finished asking.

You craned your head to look at Namjoon, suddenly concerned with your privacy.

He held up his hands. “I can open doors and windows, I can’t see through walls. I can also hear things, if you want me to. If you want me to hear, just knock or tap your foot three times and I’ll listen.”

You nodded slightly and relaxed again.

Seokjin carried you into the room, which was painted such a calm color. The bed was a queen-size, and it was soft when he lay you in the middle of it. The top blanket was velvet-y and so, so soft.

Namjoon gave you a smile when you let out a sound of appreciation.

Seokjin smiled at you. “Well, I’m going to find out whether he’s coming back to check in on you tonight or not while you rest, then we’ll go over other things and go to the spring. Feel free to go anywhere in the house, as long as it isn’t one of our bedrooms. Mine is on the first floor, Namjoon’s is across the hall. Food in the kitchen is up for grabs unless it’s in the meal-plan that I have on the fridge. Oh, that door there leads to your bathroom, the one next to it leads to your closet, and this third door leads to your sitting room or office or whatever you want to use it for. We’ll let you nap now.”

Namjoon dipped his head as Seokjin pushed and pulled him out of your bedroom door.

You stared at the closed door for a moment, then lay back. You were still so accustomed to sleeping on your fountain or in your fountain that this felt weird. But it felt weird in a heavenly sort of way. You slid up and then managed to slide under the covers, a little excited about the silk sheets. It was so nice.

So heavenly that you woke up feeling so refreshed that it had to be illegal. Sure, you still felt a little off (because the fountain you were temporarily tethered too wasn’t the greatest), but you felt much better than before.

You slid out of the sheets, enjoying the feel of the hardwood on your feet as you cautiously checked out your bathroom, closet, and sitting room (which only had an armchair and a small sofa). Once you had tested the seats (because you had to know which would be your favorite, it was the armchair), you ventured out into the hallway.

Namjoon’s door was open, but you didn’t hear anything in there, so you decided not to bother him.

Instead, you headed back the way you had been carried, looking around for more detail.

The structure of the house, the woodwork, the moulding, the baseboards and the stairway all had a distinctly Victorian style, and all were likely original to the house. But the design was more subtle, softer, and more contemporary in the coloring and the furniture. It was a nice sort of mix that gave the house an air of elegance that was refreshing. You’d been in some victorian-style homes before and they had been so overwhelmingly Victorian that it was like you were trapped in England in that time period and about to choke on a piece of jellied eel.

You avoided the pile of books spilling out of the library (but did notice that they’d been somewhat cleaned up), and checked out the living room again with the ulterior motive of checking on your current fountain.

The style was even more contemporary there, yet still paid a nice homage to the house. A monochrome color scheme, with pops of color in some of the throw pillows and delicate accents in the artwork.

Your fountain looked cleaner than ever and had a healthy amount of water in it for once, which you honestly felt boded well for you. There even seemed to be a new coating of pebbles at the bottom of the small basin.

You flinched as a cat hopped up onto the table next to the fountain and took a drink from it. It was young, a long-haired calico, so soft and pretty looking.

You let it sniff your hand, humming softly before you carefully picked it up. You snuggled it, happy when it seemed to revel in your attention, even seeking it when you started looking over the books that were seperated from the library and on the shelf beside the fireplace. There weren’t many, but you recognized one or two of the titles, and the taste there seemed to vary widely. You figured they were probably books from both of the boys, and left them as they were to go try and find the kitchen for a glass of water.

The office was nearby, but didn’t look like it got used as an office very often, but definitely seemed to have a gaming station in one corner.

You found the billiard’s room next, noting that there was a ping-pong table folded up in a corner. It seemed pretty abandoned, clean, but not nearly as used.

Then a smell permeated the air, drawing you back toward soft noise and even softer humming, murmured conversation and the sizzling of something cooking.

You peeked into the large kitchen, smiling when you saw Namjoon reading in one corner, and Seokjin cooking at the stove. Namjoon seemed to be explaining the book to Seokjin, quietly passionate about it.

Seokjin was smiling and humming, possibly more focused on what he was cooking, but still seeming to hear what Namjoon was saying.

“Smells good,” You said quietly, slipping completely into the room. Trying not to disturb the aura.

Seokjin turned and grinned at you. “Hey! You look like you feel better.”

You nodded. “That bed is heavenly. And thank you for cleaning the fountain.”

He shrugged. “It looked like it had been neglected for a while. Namjoon found some pebbles for it as well because he read that once they’ve been exposed to the tether it can make a transition easier, theoretically.”

Namjoon looked embarrassed, rubbing his neck. “I figured it couldn’t hurt to try it out.”

“That was very thoughtful,” You told him, smiling at him as well.

He was bright red after that.

Seokjin chuckled. “I’ll have dinner ready soon. Then I thought we could head down to the new library building, and then maybe go into town. There isn’t much, but I do need to pick up some things.”

You took the seat that Namjoon offered. “That sounds like a plan. Who’s the kitty?”

“Oh, that’s Parsley. She followed us home one day and has been here ever since.” Namjoon pet the cat carefully. “She’s a good mouser, so we just sort of created a pact that as long as she keeps us pest free, we’ll keep her pest-free.”

“She’s a cutie,” You said, pressing your cheek against the soft fur and enjoying the soothing vibrations of her purr. It was just one of the many things that made you feel so comfortable here. That and both men seemed relatively impervious to your enchanting beauty, which was refreshing. It gave you hope that this would work out. That you wouldn’t always be free-floating.

“She is. Do you know anything about this bird that practically forced it’s way into our house?” Seokjin asked, pointing toward the ceiling.

You leaned to the left to look at the little black and white fluff-ball. “Was wondering when he would show up. He’s been following me for a while. Don’t know why, but he seems to have formed an attachment. Whether he feels like conversing is a completely different matter.”

“Does he have a name?”

“Not that he’ll tell me.”

Namjoon started laughing.

Seokjin gave you an exasperated look. “What do you call him?”

“Fluffball, marshmallow, cotton swab, cotton ball, cotton candy, fairy floss—he really doesn’t like that one—squishy, fluffy, Caspar, and Leo.” You shrugged. “Like I said, he won’t tell me his name. Just what his name isn’t.”

“So, none of those are his name?”

“Well, fairy floss isn’t. I’ve gotten to the point where I think he’s just waiting for someone else to settle on a name for him—preferably one he likes.”

“And until then, he’s just going to come and go as he pleases?”

You shrugged again, holding it for a while.

Namjoon was still laughing, his smile revealing some adorable dimples.

“So...is he a magical bird?”

You looked up at your feathered friend, and resisted the urge to shrug once more. “Maybe?”

Seokjin huffed. “What does he eat?”

“Haven’t the foggiest. He always leaves to eat. Sometimes I’d see him eating bird-seed, but mostly he just flies off and comes back well-fed. I think he eats insects.”

“Great. He can deal with the mosquitos.” Seokjin spared the bird a glance, then dished up the food. “The store might have some insects we can get for him, just in case. You never know. They always have weird things.”

“Really?” You looked forlornly after the kitty as it leaped off and disappeared through another doorway. “Is it a magic shop?”

“Well….”

“We told you that Jin-hyung is the only human in town, didn’t we?” Namjoon asked, eyes widened slightly. “Everyone who lives in the area is magical to some extent, except for hyung.”

You shook your head, a little stunned. “No. No you did not tell me that.”

But man was that an idea to wrap your head around.

Seokjin shrugged, having plated up the food. “This is a pretty popular place for refugees. Sort of remote and accepting of different species. A nice place to make a fresh start.”

“But...you’re the only human. Doesn’t that get...I don’t know...lonely?”

He blinked at you, then shook his head and shrugged. “No? I have Namjoonie, and now you’re here too. And yeah, I’m outnumbered, but they’ve never held my species against me. I mean, that’s probably because I did sort of pay for the whole town, which isn’t much. But more people come each day, and some people move on to other places once they’ve gotten back onto their feet. It’s like an adventure, meet some new characters, help them on their journey, then return home to sleep in a big, soft, bed with a full belly.”

And maybe the look of genuine happiness on his face was just a little too alluring.

Maybe you were just desperate to belong somewhere, because when he included you...it was like the world lit up.

And no, you were not tearing up.

His hand covered yours, warmth spreading from his touch to the mark that was hidden under the sleeve of your dress as he smiled warmly at you. “I really do hope that this place becomes your home. Everyone deserves to have a home.”

And then he was moving away, maybe not even aware that he was one of your soulmates since he was human.

“Come on, let’s eat.”

Namjoon quickly complied with Seokjin’s words, but you were slower to follow, trying to figure out how all of this had come about.

“I heard that a new van full of people arrived yesterday, so I want to see if I can meet any of them. See if we still have enough housing for everyone. That might mean a couple people staying with us in the house if there isn’t enough housing. Is that okay?”

You nodded, just following their actions, but not taking as much food as they did. Mostly because you didn’t need much food to survive, but it smelled good. So good, and Seokjin did cook it himself.

“Alright, then it’s a plan. Eat, see the new library, go to the store, meet people, come home.” Seokjin nodded firmly at the end of the list, then seemed to remember something. “And talk to your mage-handler and see about tethering you to the spring. That’s probably more important. We can do the other things tomorrow if we have to, but the tethering should be done sooner rather than later. That is, if you want to be tethered to the spring. You wouldn’t necessarily have to live here your whole life, we could always get you your own home, it would just—”

“Living here is fine, and yes, I would like to be tethered to the spring,” You said quickly, noticing how his speech was deteriorating. “I just have one question.”

“Oh?” He looked so genuinely concerned, leaning forward in his seat.

“Namjoon said you wear glasses, so...have you actually seen me?”

Namjoon snickered.

Seokjin’s ears turned bright red. “Um. Yes. Yes I can see you. I have seen you. I’m seeing you. I, um, I put in my, um, contacts. I can see you quite clearly. Also, I could see you when I was closer. Just, not after a certain distance. And yes, we do plan on actively protecting you when we go out.”

You nodded. “Just curious.”

Namjoon paused after swallowing. “The mage is back.”

Seokjin sighed. “So, town tomorrow then. I’ll go let him in. I suppose this means I need to offer him dinner?”

“That would be the polite thing,” Namjoon said, gleefully.

Seokjin muttered as he left the room.

“He’s...unusual for a human,” You commented.

Namjoon nodded. “Yeah. He is. But he’s one of the best human’s I’ve ever met. We’re really glad you’re going to stay with us, Y/n. I hope you never regret your choice.”

“I hope so too.” But you didn’t think you would.

Namjoon turned toward the door, eyes narrowed slightly before rolling his eyes. “Can you help me cover the food? Apparently Mr. Mage is insisting on doing the tethering now if you agree to it.”

You rolled your eyes and got up to help him cover all three plates and the platters and bowls with tin foil to possibly retain some warmth. You highly doubted you’d be eating again that evening since tethering made you impossibly nauseous and sleepy. “I won’t be very coherent after the tethering.”

He nodded. “We’ll make sure you get back here and into bed safely, or into the tub downstairs.”

You nodded, then followed him out to where Seokjin was listening to your mage, looking strained.

“Ah, so, have you decided whether you wish to be tethered to the spring here or not?”

“I have decided to be tethered, yes.” Anything to not be in his careless hands anymore.

“Excellent! I’ll get the fountain!”

“How about I grab it, that way your hands are free to do the actual spell,” Jin quickly intervened. “Namjoon can lead the way back to the mouth of the spring.”

You breathed a sigh of relief as the mage agreed to it. At least Seokjin would be careful.

“Alright, then lets head to this spring! I’d love to be on the road before dark.”

Namjoon’s chin jutted out slightly.

Seokjin just gave a pained smile, nodding. “Yes. Driving after dark is a pain. Namjoon. Lead the way.”

And you weren’t about to tell on Namjoon when you saw one of the floorboards pop up to trip the mage, because you kind of felt somewhat vindicated.

The forest around the house was made up primarily of spruces, firs, pines, and hemlocks with birches, oaks, and red maples popping through here and there. The path that the four of you took (with a little fluffball following overhead and a calico furball following behind curiously) was discreet, yet also fairly well-worn. As though walked often, but also well-cared for.

It was quiet, with varying degrees of density—some areas providing a wide view of the rest of the forest, and other areas being so dense that you couldn’t see a foot past the nearest tree.

Namjoon followed the path for a while, then diverged into the forest down what appeared to be a game-trail, something not walked often.

Then you could sense the water. It’s purity, it’s cleanliness. Free and untethered.

The creek was beautiful, and all of you followed it to the head of the spring.

You grinned when you saw it, a thrill going through you. It was beautiful and so clean and lovely and it was going to be yours.

Seokjin set your fountain down so that the mage could prepare the spell, then came over to you. “You’re sure about this?”

You looked into his eyes, the eyes of one of your soulmates, and nodded. “I’ve never been more certain about anything in my life.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled, a little more carefree now.

You hoped you’d have the courage to talk about soulmates with him someday, but today you were going to have your soul ripped from a tiny fountain and sewn back into a spring. You only had so much courage.

And then the mage started the spell.

--

Survey Results used for this chapter: 

Namjoon-Blue (haltija), Seokjin-Pink (human), You-Cyan (xana) 

Silk, Book-Librarian, Creek-what your water source is attached to, House/Apartment/Mansion, Style-Victorian & Contemporary, view-boreal/boreal-mix forest, calico kitty, white bird with black wings, 

Whoops-meet Seokjin first, Oh No-meet Namjoon second, LaLaLa-C (some friends, some strangers), Loyalty-Soulmate au, Black-War tore through and you're all in relief housing situation.

--

Pre-Chapter 2 Survey

Next.

Masterlist.  ot7 Masterpost.

--

Taglist: @missmoxxiesworld​  @bryvada​  @i-dont-even-know-fck​ @knjhe​ @alex--awesome--22  @kerikaaria​ @killcomet​ @letsreadbts​ @taestannie​

[aeondeug]

So As Yet Unsent did a number on me and got me to love Judith. It also left me wanting to write something for the research she did before going to proposition Marta. And so here is that something! A series of three narrative poems about Judith gradually working up the nerve to ask Marta:

The first time you read one You had been walking through the halls To find and spy an excited gaggle Gathered around and whispering On just how hard it had been for Them to sneak this into the shipments. Those composed there heard you step, One shooting upright with a salute While another swore and asked Just what was up only to look right And see you standing there Spine erect, face grim and firm. He blanched at the sight seen And lost the words in his throat And all his years of training too Until you reminded him of them. Each head there rose one by one, Hands folded behind their back neatly, And you did not even interrogate them But instead demanded outright and bald For whatever contraband they’d snuck in To be handed over to you now Before more serious measures be taken. One made a comment, an argument, Saying there was none to be found And that he was quite confused as to why You’d even think to ask them of that. You asked him if he thought you stupid, To which he answered “No, sir”, smartly, To which you said you thought him stupid. Very. A smart one meanwhile pushed out her hands To reveal a book with a silly title And an even sillier cover, A truly stupid prize to sneak through customs. You frowned and thought to yourself How a kinder officer would let it slide, But you were the image of the Second House And with it the image of the Cohort, There could be no quarter given, So you snatched the book from those hands Barely giving it or her a glance. Then you ordered them off on a run With a note that you’d be going up And informing their superiors in due time. Later that night, such as they’re counted Up in the dead expanse of the stars, You looked down at the book Which sat with a stack of flimsies on your desk Ready to be sent off and be disposed of. It wasn’t the first romance you’d seen Of this very specific subject matter, But it was the first you’d held admittedly. You looked over its cover again With its handsome, strapping cavalier Whose coat was not to code, collar open, And in whose arms lay a shrinking adept, Eyes closed serenely, lips lightly parted. You sneered at the thing and thought Of how it and the flimises would be off soon, Heading further down the bureaucratic chain. But instead of grabbing them each and all To be carried off and away as needed, You picked up the book with a scoff And you opened it to a random page To give it a slight read before it burned. The dialogue was atrocious, first off, And the narration lingered too long, Being overly fond of outfits and lamps and more. It was a horrible book in truth, But you turned to its first page feeling bored And set to reading it right through that night. There hadn’t been a new book in weeks, And you were just growing so tired Of the stack of ones already read. This is what you told yourself that night As you read through the whole tome Until eventually you were through it all And its whole sordid tale Of a cavalier and their necromancer. It was the first you’d read.

--

The second time you read one You actually read a set of three together. They were from three authors And from three subgenres, Sharing only one thing in common: A love between a cav and their adept. These books you’d gathered for yourself Based off the writings you’d seen In book magazines on your off days And based off the talk you’d heard Among others in the cafeteria. It was something of a pain, it was, Paying off person after person again In search of these three particular books While leaving behind you a trail Too confounding to be traced to you. For should you be found out about You’d be called a hypocrite by your men, And soon the word would spread around About Judith Deuteros’ unseemly interests. Thankfully your years of tearing apart smuggling rings Had taught you well how to travel and talk, So you felt yourself quite safe As you gathered up your secret finds. Yet safety had or no, you hid them carefully And you moved through each slowly, Fearing every last noise you heard reading Was someone noticing your newfound habit. These books weren’t much better than the first, Is what you told yourself those days After having read through them each. As the dialogue was still off in all three, And the one loved adverbs far, far too much, And you only needed see one love triangle To know you never wanted to see another. And of the whole lot you felt the worst Was the one about the Cohort pair, For nothing was accurate in the least, And everyone would be court martialed At least nine times over, God willing. That was assuming the pair ever left training, Which you thought was very doubtful. Yet in the nights after reading it When you had disposed of them each and all, It was that Cohort book you thought of And neither of the other two, Though they were slightly less awful. The cavalier was nothing like Marta. They were overbold and cared not for order. At the best you’d called them a fool, But for all your unkind words to the cav You had far colder ones for the adept, In whom you saw none of yourself. Yet as you lay in bed one night You thought of one moment halfway in the book Where the adept had cornered their cav, Pressing them to a wall before a mission That was sure to kill them both at last. You’d thought of how the cav rebuffed them And how you thought that very proper, But the adept had pressed on And refused to back away or let up As they asked one very important question: They ask you and expect you to die for me, But they tell me I can’t feel a thing for you? Why is that the case? How is that fair? There was an argument after those words, Which was smoothed over by a kiss, Sudden and fierce, which saved The cav from having to answer that “Why?” You told yourself this was stupid. You told yourself you hated it. Yet you thought to yourself at night On those missions now past Where you’d seen Marta glorious And you’d seen her vulnerable too. You thought of all the talks you had Just the two of your together And the ease at which they flowed, As with no other person you knew. You thought of esprit de corps and how, Though you felt connected to your fellows More than with any civilian you had ever known, That there was a connection unique to her. There was a bond between the two of you Tighter than any other you held, And they asked her to die for you While demanding you feel nothing on that. Why?

--

The third time you read oneIt wasn’t a novel you read, really,As the book was one part essay, one part storyAnd most of all it was a treatise and memoire.This one you’d found while perusing throughThe Sixth House’s vast libraries duringA very rare Sixth House ballWhich you found even more dull thanAll the other balls you’d gone to,Be they of the Third or of the Fifth.So as the Sixth took to the their booksOver the drinking and the dancing,So did you set to your own researches.Normally at one of these events,You would stand with Marta together,Back erect, face grim and firm,Rebuffing the attempts of those about youTo get you to dance or to laugh or whatever else,And the Third’s princess was always the hardestFor you to shake off, for private reasons.But Coronabeth was not here, thank God,And this was no Third House ball but a Sixth one,Which left you with this one and only chanceTo search through their vast storesOf knowledge you thought unworthy of preservation.Your search was a secretive oneOf which you didn’t even tell Marta,Having left her side saying onlyThat you were going to the bathroom,And adding that she was free to enjoy the festivities.To which she laughed a bit,Because what festivities were there here?You smiled and told her to seek outAnother who loved those same books thatThe two of you had first bonded over.So you had left her to go and lookFor books on the subject of thatMost great and mighty of taboos,Of which you dared not say word to Marta of.The search was seemingly fruitless.At first because certain libraries hereWere off limits to the party guests,Then next because the one you’d found hadOnly an endless treasure troveOf mystery novels spanning centuries on,Till at last you had to admit to yourselfThat the Sixth’s knowledge hoards hadA scheme that not even you could navigate alone.So, nervously, you stepped up to a SixthWith her nose buried in a bookAnd you asked her outright, bald,Trying your best to seem nonchalant,If the Sixth held any books at allOn the matter of necros and cavs joined together,Not just by tradition, but by romance.She raised a brow at you standing there,The proper daughter of the fleet admiral,Asking for books on a most improper topic,But when she saw you budge not one bitShe shrugged her shoulders and led you offTo a part of the library you’d passed six times before.As you waited and watched, heart pounding,She pulled forth a book with a cover, nondescript.She handed it to you saying lazilyTo leave it on one of the carts when you finished.You thanked her formally and hoped thatNeither your face nor your step saidAnything about your mood or your intent.You were scared, to be truthful.More scared than you ever had beenIn the bustle of open combat,Because at least battle you understoodAnd because however it was you died on the fieldYour father would stand up and would sayOf you, his daughter, that never hadThere been a more proper Second toHave ever graced these Nine Houses.That you were a Second House heir so properThat a woman with a career so promisingAs the most esteemed Marta Dyas Had put aside those far off starsTo take her cavalier vows for life,Binding you as necro and cav.Between freedom and glory afar,She had picked you above them bothWhen you had only girlish hopesThat even your father told youWere far too high and likely to fail.So as you read that book thereHidden in a Sixth House nookYou were more scared than ever before,Because you were looking for an answerTo an argument you had with yourselfOver whether there was any chance at allFor you and your girlish hopes.What you found was not what you wanted,As the author went on and on about thingsThat were tangential at best to what you sought.You read about her overbearing father andYou read about her merciless DI andYou read about a friend you thought the cavUntil said friend died without one whisperOf those four words that haunted youBecause they held you back from a more wanted three.It took you a good hour to get to it,And that came with some skimmingThrough page after page about things you cared not for,But you finally found it tucked awayIn the middle of that book: an essay on necros and cavs.The essay spanned only four pages longAnd it did not go into much detailAbout the relationship between the twoIn a personal and intimate sense.Instead she spoke primarily of herselfAnd of her ever growing shameAnd of her ever expanding list of questionsOn whether the arguments in praise of that shameHeld any weight to them at all.She spoke too of how setting love aside,Trying to pretend she felt none of it,Had done her no good at all.It had led to an argument, in fact,Between her and her cavalierWho could not understand whyShe had been so cagey all the timeWhen before she’d been so open, so free.This was the most you ever got to seeOf the cavalier herself beyondThat she too was a Cohort woman.You read and you read and you readBefore rereading the whole thing againTrying to tell yourself it was stupidAnd that the author was stupid too.You shut the book in disgust, sneering,And you dropped it off in a cart sayingHow you couldn’t see how the SixthCould think this thing worth preserving.Then you went back to find MartaWho asked you where you’d beenTo which you said you’d been accostedBy the Sixth House bookworms askingWhat you had most recently read,At which she laughed and said “Vicious aren’t they?”You smiled and agreed and said nothing more.And six weeks later you lay in bedThinking to yourself on that essayAnd the arguments held within it.Six weeks later you told yourselfThat perhaps it might be okay, after all,And that the very next day you’d sayTo Marta that you felt something more.

[themadauthorshatter]

OKAY!!!

You've seen my take on Toppat!Charles, so what's my take on Toppat!Henry?

First thing's first, I want to address that Henry joins the Toppats, gets arrested in The Wall, and meets Ellie, BUT the route he takes is more like The Betrayed. What changes is that when he runs past Ellie, who overheard that he was the leader of the Toppat Clan and wanted to make sure it was true. He meets back up with her and not only confirms what she heard, but also that he stole the Tunisian Diamond and Norwegian Emerald before getting arrested.

Ellie barks that he must be confused because she stole it first, or was about to before she got overwhelmed by law enforcement.

Henry still lets her out, honor among inmates, and they escape, though the confrontation against Dmitri has more hits to it with more kicking and punching and hair pulling before a head slam and choke hold by Dmitri that's stopped by Ellie with a stop sign.

Cue the Toppats going into the orbital and having to fight off the government, but let's add some tension and get a little shippy in here.

And let's give the Valiant Hero himself time to shine😉

When Henry and Right are picked up by Ellie, a certain pilot tackles Henry down and the two start to tussle.

Ellie goes to shot him, but Henry gestures for her and Right to get the rocket, and he'll meet them there.

Charles and Henry stand up and stand off before Henry races toward his old acquaintance and gets a hard, military grade kick into the stomach that sends him crashing back into the dirt; he's still sore from his fight with Dmitri.

Charles goes to cuff him, but Henry more pushes him away with his legs rather than kick him before noticing and going for a gun on the ground. Charles pulls him away from it, though, and takes it, firing two warning shots and aiming it at Henry, who's moved to his back and holds up his hands to show he has no weapons. Charles, ever the trained soldoer, only holds his gun to shoot, but then lowers it, as it sets in that Henry is defenseless and seems to be injured; courtesy of Dmitri.

He re-aims when Henry gets stupid and asks, "You're not really going to shoot your friend, are you?"

Soldiers are arresting Toppats and the rocket is starting to launch, so it leads to a perfect opportunity for Henry when Charles gets distracted by the takeoff.

Henry kicks Charles twice, once near his feet to knock him down and once right in the face to knock him out.

Like in the ending Toppat King, he hijacks a tank and launches himself into the orbital station, where he is welcomed with open arms as the leader.

As he and Reginald go to join the others, Henry talks about a heist targeting another priceless gem, but it will have to wait until they're in space and everything's under control. Reginald, admittedly, is more than happy to wait.

Back on Earth, Charles is shaken awake by Galeforce.

"Charles? Charlie!? Come on, son, wake up! Wake up!"

Charles groans and pushes himself up, saying, "I'm-I'm fine, General. I'm okay."

Charles looks at where the rocket used to be and remembers how he was extremely close to arresting Henry, the leader.

"Sorry, General. I almost had him."

Galeforce only helps Charles to his feet and puts a hand on his shoulder. "You did your best. Besides-" Glaefoce looks up to the sky, Charles's gaze following. "Something tells me they'll be back, one way or another."

Charles is reassured, but is still a little discouraged.

It doesn't help that when some other soldiers ask why he didn't take the shot over the next week, all he can say is that he was about to, but got distracted by the rocket taking off; it was much louder than he thought it would be.

Galeforce gets their attention back and says they need to be extra alert now in order to find an opening, which means keeping contact with anyone who has anything of value to the Toppats.

Charles is sort of paying attention, but it is clear to twins Calvin and Konrad, who sit on his left and right respectively, that he's not really there, ESPECIALLY when his eyebrows arch upward and eyes widen.

Calvin, with a nod from his brother, raises his hand and gets Galeforce's attention. "Hey, General? Maybe Charles has an idea."

The audible cue does not perturb Charles in any way, so Konrad has to tap his shoulder.

Cue some visible confusion from Charles and some annoyance from the other soldiers when he asks, "Sorry, what were we all talking about? With an opening?"

"The twins said you have an idea," Rupert replies as evenly as he can.

Charles turns to both twins, who nod and give an 'okay' to share what he's thinking, but Charles shakes his head.

"It's a stupid. I was just thinking."

"We're open to just about anything, Charlie," Galeforce affirms. "Any idea is a good idea, at this point."

Charles takes a breath and shrugs. "I mean, I'm just grabbing at straws, but maybe we should try targetting their next heist location. Like, some kind of museum somewhere?"

"But there's thousands of museums in the states alone," the twins say in unison, a habit that riles up Rupert and leads to some soldiers trying not to laugh.

Charles continues more to Calvin and Konrad, "What about ones that have an exhibit like the Tunisian diamond or Norwegian emerald? Or maybe even jewelry shops that have a large gem just for display? It's stuff like that that'll get the Toppats' attention."

The soldiers all muse aroumd, mumbling in agreement, before one asks, "Where do we go first, then?"

Charles scratches the back of his head and shrugs again. "I dunno. Where another giant gemstone is being held? Last I heard, someone found a pretty big sapphire." He turns to the Konrad and asks quietly, "Why even carve it that big anyway, then it's useless?"

"Alright," Galeforce calls. "Find out where that sapphire's at, and keep yoir eyes peeled for any other oversized gem or anything priceless."

The soldiers head out, leaving the room, but Galeforce isn't exactly finished yet.

"Charlie, can I talk to you for a second?"

The twins whisper, "We'll mourn you," as Charles approaches the general, giving them both 'cut it out' eyes.

They leave and it's just Charles and Galeforce alone.

"You... wanted to talk?"

"I did. Charlie, you've been quiet since the toppats got into orbit. Are you doing okay?"

"Yeah," Charles replies, with a shrug and with his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Are you sure? You're being a little harder on yourself than usual."

Charles nods. "Yeah. Sorry, I... I've got something to do," he says as he leaves hastily; no disrespect to Galeforce, he just doesn't like bringing up the orbital station. He almost runs into a higher up, apologizing as he continues leaving, but this higher up is Captain H.J. Canterbury, who's heard about Charles's near pristine reputation and the failed prevention of the Toppat launch.

He gives Charles the stink eye behind his back before approaching Galeforce with a scowl.

"I thought that kid was the most experienced on the field. Why'd he screw up stopping the launch?"

"Put him in the air and he's damn near invincible, but leave him on the ground and you'll be disappointed. The kid's meant for the air, not the ground, Captain."

Canterbury scoffs and takes another look back at Charles, who's almost left the base entirely now. "You're too easy on him. I get he's like a son to you, but that doesn't exactly mean you can coddle him for ruining the entire operation."

For context, Charles HAS been harder on himself since the mission. He's been training much harder in combat, in using firearms, and in piloting. He's still very aware, not forgetting to take his ADD medicine, but he looks much more stiff when he stands and walks because he's sore from training the day before; he knows he screwed up, and he's trying to make sure it doesn't happen again.

"I don't coddle him. I have done a lot for the kid, but that isn't one of them. If he needs space, I'll let him have it. He's beating himself up about it enough already. Don't make it worse."

"Don't let him screw up again," Canterbury rumbles.

The two men have a glare off before the Captain leaves, Galeforce tipping his head back and sighing once he's gone.

Cut to Charles sitting idly in his car and honking the horn repeatedly as he zones out(probably thinking about The Beatles), until he gets a knock on the window.

There stand the twins Bukowski, who gesture for him to roll down his window so thwy can talk, which he does.

"What's up? If this is about training, we can rematch tomorrow."

"Tempting, but we've kinda figured out we don't want our asses kicked," Calvin slightly jokes, even though he rubs his shoulder, where Charles threw him Jiu Jitsu style.

"We were just wondering if you wanted to go out and grab a bite, since we kinda threw you in the spot back there," Konrad asks, more than happy to plan a victory against Charles with his brother during lunch, and just wanting lunch with the bastard.

Charles gives a smile and shakes his head. "Thanks for the offer, guys, really, but I have to pass. It's been a really long day."

The two "Aaaaaw," sadly at him like little kids.

"Hey, I'll be back tomorrow."

"The General told us to tell you you're off tomorrow," they whine.

Charles's jaw drops to the ground. "What!?"

The twins take turns explaining, picking up where the other left off, starting with Calvin and continuing with Konrad:

"He says you're working too hard, which isn't a bad thing at all, really, it just- well..."

"He just thinks you're being too hard on yourself with what happened. I mean, it's weird because you were pretty close to arresting him, but HE knocked YOU out, so it's not your fault."

"Yeah! And that headset can only block out ao much noise; you were standing next to a rocket that was starting to take off!"

Charles leans back in his seat, absolutely speechless at the forced day off he has; he's tried talking to get out of something Galeforce told him to do once, but it resulted in him getting yelled at and made to clean the showers for a week.

"You good?" Calvin asks as he taps Charles on the shoulder to get his attention.

Charles nods slowly before nodding quickly. "Yeah," he replies, though it's in that reply you give when you're paying attention, but not ACTUALLY paying attention. When he repiles more naturally, "Yeah," he's back and has processed what the twins said.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Guess I really need time off."

"If you want, feel free to give us a call tomorrow. In case you rethink a free meal."

Charles narrows his eyes and smirks. "You two just want to cheat in training when I get back."

"How dare you," Calvin gasps as Konrad groans, "How did you know!?"

Either way, they all bid their farewells and, once the twins are gone and out of ear shot, Charles leans against the steering wheel and groans loudly, almost screaming; it'll help him in the end, but he's not looking forward to a mandatory day off.

He sighs and sits idly a little longer before relenting and driving home, actually play The Beatles to distract himself.

CUT TO HENRY ON THE ORBITAL STATION!!!

Henry is staring out at Earth, which is essentially his playground now that he can go just about anywhere and steal just about anything.

But he can't stop thinking about a certain government pilot, especially how said pilot could have shot him, but instead lowered his gun.

Call it whatever, Henry can tell there was some kind of reason for Charles not taking the shot.

As he stares and ponders, Ellie strides in and hands him a set of files from the government. "You said you wanted to see these?"

Henry accepts the file with a nod to say, 'thank you.' It's larger than he'd thought, but that just means more to learn.

Ellie reads the first page over his shoulder, and the two are surprised to see how many pictures were taken of Charles for his ID; the standard pose for a military/government ID is an expressionless face and a straight back, so they're a little surprised to see him smiling and laughing like a fool with his shoulders curled toward his ears. Even his most soldier-esque picture, the one actually on his ID, still shows he's hiding a smile, and most likely the urge to laugh.

It shows he's 26, he's got ADD, he's not just a pilot, he's possibly the best pilot, having passed a flight simulator at nine, got in the air and completed a mission and 15, and is basically a powerhouse. He doesn't really have a criminal record, as long as you don't count laughing too much as a crime, or being too good at his job.

"Guess we have someone to keep an eye on now," Ellie muses. "If we're in the air, that bastard's probably going to shoot is down."

Henry smirks and shakes his head. 'If he wanted us gone, we wouldn't be here right now.'

Ellie furrows her brow and then she grins. "Think we should expect him at the next heist?"

Henry takes another look at Earth and nods at Ellie.

'If he's there, he's off limits from anyone else. He's mine.'

Ellie holds up her hands, stating, "If you say so, he's all yours. Just be careful, if you do see him again, okay?"

Henry's smirk drops at the genuine concern on her face and turns to her, nodding as he says, "I will."

They go their seperate ways, Ellie going to check on how the other Toppats are adjusting, while Henry heads to his room to study on Charles, admitting that he's looking forward to when they meet again.

CUT TO CHARLES!!!!

It's the next day, and Charles, up early and dressed from forgetting his day off, is currently doing push-ups because he's bored.

And in the middle of a conversation:

"I mean, I get he's worried," he says through grunts as he continues his push-ups, "but I really don't think I need a day off right now. The Toppats are in orbit, Henry got away, and now everyone's convinced to go on a wild goose chase for a large sapphire." He stops and alternates to do crunches instead. "Maybe everyone's right. I should've just arrested Henry, but the rocket still launched with the previous leader and right hand man on board. It would've been pointless. And that rocket was really loud!"

There's a knock on the door and it makes Charles yelp and jump out of his skin. He wipes himself off a little, takes his medicine, and throws on a jacket before answering to find literal Dad of the year material Hubert Galeforce at the door.

"Oh, uh... Good morning, General."

"Morning, Charlie. May I come in?"

Charles sidesteps and nods, and Galeforce walks in.

"I heard your conversation. I hope I didn't interrupt anything."

"No. I... I was just talking," he says with a side glance to the plants he keeps in his house, both living green ones and wire ones bent in the shapes of trees that took him FOREVER to do, but remimd him to just sit and get something done once in a while.

While Charles quickly leaves for a second to toss the towel he used into the hamper, Galeforce notes the rather intricate wire trees, especially one that looks more like a weeping willow than a bonsai.

"When did you make this new one?"

"A while ago. About a month, I think. I finished it last night, though," Charles calls before rejoining Galeforce. "So, uh, what are you here for? Just so you know, I did have breakfast."

Galeforce fights a chuckle at how sharp Charles has become and the two sit down on the couch.

"What's on your mind?"

Charles brushes it off. "It's nothing. I just..." When Charles is completely silent, Galeforce only watches him carefully.

"Don't try telling me nothing's wrong. You've been training yourself sick and then some. If you keep overworking your engine, you'll crash and burn."

Charles keeps his eyes on the floor when he asks, "Was it... really a good idea to try using Henry against the Toppats?"

Galeforce sighs and rubs his head.

"Knowing what I do now, no. If anything, throwing Henry to the Toppats only made them stronger."

Charles gulps and clenches his fists. "I kinda hoped he wouldn't join them."

Galeforce quickly turns to Charles, who keeps his eyes on the ground.

"I mean, I feel like we sort of asked for it, because we kidnapped him, but... I don't know, I just... Part of me hoped he'd see it as a 'lesser of two evils' thing. Sometimes good people to bad things, or bad things happen to good people or whatever. Maybe I was just hoping for the best."

Galeforce puts a hand on Charles's shoulder, which gets him to make eye contact.

"You couldn't shoot him, could you?"

With a lump in his throat, Charles shakes his head. "He wasn't armed. Even before all this, I guess part of me wanted a friend and not just a partner for a mission. Guess that part took over, too."

Galeforce can only remain silent, though he does grip Charles's shoulder a little more.

"If I see him again, I won't hold back like last time. If I have a chance to arrest him, I'll take it."

Charles is caught right off guard when he feels Galeforce ruffle his hair, who nods at him.

"Just don't get yourself killed, Charlie."

"I won't," Charles replies, after a second of silence.

Charles's eyes roam to the window, where he can just make out the Toppat orbital station.

On the orbital station, Henry stares out a large window at Earth and smirks at the idea of meeting Charles again.

If this was an anime or TV show, we'd get something like a split screen of the two, Charles looking slightly up and Henry looking slightly down, the split screens and editing making it appear as though they are meeting eyes with Charles ready to fight and Henry looking forward to when they see each other again.

AND THAT IS TOPPAT!HENRY PART 1! Henry and Charles are going to be playing roles much like Will and Hannibal in the show Hannibal; even though we see more of Will, Hannibal is also the main character.

Either way, I hope you guys enjoyed this first part and thank you for reading!!

[orwocolor]

Love Thy Neighbour - Chapter Seven

Pairing: Gwilym Lee x Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Cursing

Summary: Gwilym shows up in your bookstore to apologise but there still might be more obstacles on your way to happiness.

Author’s Note: And another sprinkle of angst so that chapter six doesn’t feel so lonely. Only one more chapter and an epilogue remain, so keep an eye out for those! Comments and reblogs are always very appreciated :) Check my masterlist to read the previous chapters. Dedicated to my sweetie @justgwilym​.

Dragging your feet, you crash on your sofa, a floral pattern of one of the walls spinning around you. You squeeze your eyes shut, but as you lose the point of focus, you sense a rise of, so far, the most powerful wave of nausea. You fight the feeling and instead fix your gaze on one of the paintings decorating the living room.

Breathe in.

And breathe out.

You should not have drunk that much. But Jane and Charlotte were unstoppable and admittedly, you needed it. After a couple of drinks, you actually started having fun. Daniel turned out to be a very pleasant companion with a taste for slightly dry humour that, partially due to your inebriated state, made you burst in laughter multiple times during the party.

Oh god, you are going to hate yourself so much tomorrow.

Once it seems the whole world will not tilt again and toss you on your side, you brave a few steps into the kitchen and pour yourself a glass of water. Gulping it down, you can already feel its beneficial effects, which are further enhanced when you press the cold glass against your forehead. You serve yourself another drink and with each sip, you begin to trust your legs again.

You release a content sigh as a soft breeze and smell of rain touch your cheeks when you open the windows; it truly does a world of good. Grabbing yourself two slices of toast bread, you settle onto the sofa, open your laptop and click on a random video for you to watch while you wait to get better before you go to bed. If you lay down right now, you’re sure you would throw up.

With an occasional chuckle leaving your lips as you listen rather than watch a stand-up show, you almost miss a soft, hesitant knock on your door. Almost. Your fingers hover above the keyboard as you contemplate pausing the video. If you press the space key right now, there will be no doubt you’ve heard the knocking.

Slowly retracting your hand back to your side, you let the comedian continue in her sketch and you just wait. It probably takes only a minute, but for you, it’s an eternity before you can hear Gwil shut the door to his flat behind him.

You release a breath you have not realised you were holding and hide your face in your palms.

You are not in a state to face him right now. You need some time. And most importantly, you need to put some space between you, otherwise you’re going to care way too much, and you are not in the position of allowing yourself feelings of that sort.

~

“I’m sorry, sir, I’ll be back in a minute, just let me attend to this young lady,” you throw behind your shoulder as you rush to the cash desk and leave a customer in the historical section.

“Maybe I can be of service,” Mr Dean appears next to the customer’s shoulder, who jumps a bit, not expecting someone else, and you send a grateful glance to your friend. You knew you could count on him. Whenever he’s in a good mood, he loves to entertain people in the bookshop and no matter the topic or genre they’re looking for, he turns into an expert, gladly offering recommendations.

You hide a smile when you notice Mr Dean’s eyes sparkling as the man mentions the French revolution and he starts guiding him to the needed section.

“Here you go,” you hand the young woman her bag and say your goodbyes, a shrilling sound of chimes hanging at the entrance door announcing her departure.

While you bend down and disappear behind the till to throw away the receipt the woman didn’t want, the chimes sound again, and you emerge from behind the cash desk.

No.

He’s there, right in front of you, the surprise written in his face matching yours.

“Hello,” Gwil says softly and for a split of a second, you forget to breathe.

You’ve managed to avoid him the whole weekend by some miracle, although, admittedly, on one occasion, when you were forced out of your flat to do grocery shopping, you spotted him at the entrance door when you made a turn to your street. At that moment, you remembered you wanted to check something on your phone, and after fiddling with it long enough for Gwil to get home, you plucked up the courage to do the same.

You assured yourself you just needed some time and space and by the time you would meet him, you would have known what to tell him.

Well, your past self can go screw herself because here you are with your tongue tied.

“Hi, Y/N!” Ben is on Gwil’s tail and greets you cheerfully, his hand raised in a wave.

“Hi,” you manage to blurt out, quite happy with yourself for not butchering the single syllable. It’s all about little victories, right?

“So, uh, I’ll go check some books I guess,” Ben breaks the silence when neither you nor Gwil seems to do so, and scurries farther into the store.

“I am so, so sorry, Y/N,” Gwil eventually breathes out and raises his lowered eyes. “I wish I could have a good reason for not showing up the other day and for copping out on you like that, but I just don’t. I…”

He looks around and bites his lips, looking for a way of how to finish his sentence in books-filled shelves.

You wait patiently because you have the feeling that there is something he needs to say, and it would be ill-advised to interrupt his thoughts.

“Okay, I’m probably already not in your good books, so why not make even a bigger twat of myself, eh.”

“Ha, in the good books. Get it? You’re in a bookshop,” you chuckle, your voice not as strong as you would like it to be.

“Yeah,” he replies, and the corners of his lips rise up slightly. Soon, his voice turns serious again. “Well, I went to that stupid audition and I just fucked it up. Yeah, there’s no better word for that. I fucked it up, big time. I tried to persuade them to give me another chance, I said I would do anything, and the production assistant surprised me. She promised me another audition if I went for a drink with her afterwards, and I… didn’t refuse.” He takes a deep, shaky breath, presumably the first one since he started explaining what had happened. “I wasn’t thinking, and when I realised I was supposed to be with you, it was too late.”

“You could have called me,” you say slowly, daring to meet his gaze.

“My phone was dead. I was fiddling with it so much while I was waiting for the audition. Was driving Ben absolutely crazy.”

“Can confirm!” Ben’s head peeps out from behind a shelf and quickly hides again when he spots both your and Gwil’s not so amused expressions.

“Still,” you start and shake away the trembling feeling that is creeping to your voice, “You could have come by later and explain all of that to me that night.”

By some miracle, it’s as if he senses the direction of your thoughts, and rushes to set the record straight, offering the absolution you haven’t, until now, realised you desperately craved.

“The moment it dawned on me what a jerk I was, I said my goodbyes and left. But it was too late, and I felt like such a prick, so I actually dropped in another pub and drank some more. Was so shit-faced I stayed at my brother’s ‘cause he lives in that area.”

A great weight is lifted from your shoulders and you can finally take a deep and long breath. You feel a smile tugging at the corners of your lips but Gwilym does not see it; he is avoiding your eyes, as mortification keeps surrounding his whole person.

“I am so, so sorry,” he repeats once again and the moment the words leave his lips, you forgive him.

Actually, you already have.

You are just about to tell him so when he finally finds the courage to look into your eyes as he reaches out and gently grasps your hands that have been resting on the counter.

“Please, can you forgive me?”

His thumbs are lightly stroking your skin and you cannot tear away your gaze from his beautiful blue eyes.

“Sir, I must ask you to leave right now!”

Wait, what?

It takes you a moment to become aware of where you are and what is happening. The bookshop, right. And as for what is going on…

“Sir, I won’t repeat myself, leave this building immediately!” Peter’s voice reaches such volume that every customer stops in their tracks, their curiosity taking the better of themselves.  

“I was only showing this young lad the historic section. I don’t reckon it’s a crime,” Mr Dean responds in his defence, which only infuriates Peter some more.

“You’re always just helping other customers, or browsing, or, God forbid, reading our books without paying a single penny for them. I want you gone. This is not a library!”

“Peter,” you say weakly, not capable of wrapping your head around it. He isn’t supposed to be here, otherwise you would have warned Mr Dean beforehand.

“Is that the Mr Dean you told me about?” Gwil whispers and it is only then when you notice your hands are still placed in his and his face is much closer to yours than you remember.

“Yes, I’m–” you start but Gwilym won’t let you finish the sentence.

“Trust me, darling. I’ll stop by at your place at around seven, okay?” he hastily says and places a soft kiss to your cheek before leaving you at the till dumbfounded.

“Grandpa!” he greets joyfully and rushes to Mr Dean to give him a proper hug. “Have you found the book you told me about?”

Mr Dean shoots a glance your way before he replies. “Ah, I… Yes. Yes, yes, I did, give me a second.” You’re taken aback by his quick reaction because you have not moved from your spot, your jaw down, and you are pretty sure your arms are still stretched in front of you although Gwilym’s warm palms are no longer holding them. You fix your posture in an instant and clear your throat, at least trying to give the impression of having everything under control.

Although you are not particularly proud of yourself, you’re still doing better than Peter. He is just standing there, opening his mouth like fish as no words are leaving his lips.

Gwilym pretends he has only just noticed him and raises his eyebrows in make-believe innocence. “Is there any problem here?”

It takes a couple of moments before Peter gathers his bearings.

“I’m sorry, but this is your grandfather?” he finally finds his voice and points an accusatory finger at your dear friend.

“Yeah! He’s been wearing my ear off about this wonderful book he discovered here, so I’m here to get it for him. For his birthday, you know? Which is coming soon, isn’t that right, grandpa?”

“In a couple of days, actually,” Mr Dean confirms and nods his head seriously as if contemplating the fleetingness of time and existence.

“Urgh, I’m the worst grandson ever, really, looking for gifts this late, I should be ashamed of myself.” You are fascinated by Gwil’s acting; he doesn’t miss a beat and comes up with lies so quickly, all you can do is stare in astonishment. It’s not like anyone needs you right now because all customers are watching the scene unfold.

“Ah, got it!” The victorious announcement of Mr Dean makes Gwil turn on his heel and leave Peter behind.

“Wow, that’s really pretty! You weren’t lying about the photographs.” Gwil expertly inspects the pictures of various relics and nods, approvement and appreciation readable from his pursed lips. “Excellent! We’ll take it.” He closes the book in one swift motion and heads to your cash desk.

By this time, you have composed yourself enough to remember all the common niceties, and you are quite proud of your performance as you easily scan the book that you’ve seen cradled in Mr Dean’s palms many afternoons and punch the price into the card reader so that Gwil can pay.

“Would you like it gift-wrapped?” you do not forget to ask and when your gaze meets Gwil, your heart starts beating so fast you almost can’t hear the answer.

“Oh yes, please, that is if we’re not bothering you.” Gwil’s smile lights up his whole face.

“No bother at all,” the corners of your lips rise in a matching smile and you procced to neatly wrap the book in a piece of brown paper, taking extra care to tie a dark blue ribbon around the package.

“Thank you so much, have a lovely day!” Gwilym places the book under his arm and leaves the shop, Mr Dean on his tail offers a wave and a wink that, hopefully, Peter cannot see.

Through the display window, you almost miss Gwil turning around and mouthing ‘see you tonight’ before he and Mr Dean disappear behind the corner. You almost burst into laughter when Ben suddenly emerges from behind the bookshelves and dashes after them.

You have got the feeling that Peter is mumbling something, but all you can think about is your lovely neighbour and the kiss he ever so gently placed on your cheek.

You resist the temptation to touch your face, wondering whether the imprint of Gwil’s lips can be found there, or whether the gesture is forever inscribed into your mind only.

But then, you finally register Peter’s words...

“I can’t believe it! And of all days he’s got to pick today and embarrass me in front of the buyers. God damn it!”

… and your smile freezes.

~

Buyers.

The sequence of syllables still sounds foreign and dangerous to your ears.

Buyers.

No matter how many times it rolls off your tongue, the word remains the same.

So that’s it. Peter’s made up his mind and he is going to sell the bookshop. And that leaves so many questions unanswered. The new owners, are they going to keep the staff, or do they plan to hire a new bunch of people? Is there even some certainty that they will not rebrand and establish a branch of a fast-food chain? It’s not like the city is flooded with them, right.

You feel the dizziness creeping up your neck as those thoughts swirl in your head, not permitting you a moment of peace. You almost crash into a passer-by, but thankfully you manage to keep yourself upright and the take-out bag with your late lunch intact in your hold.

Once you finally arrive home, you heat up the food you have brought with you and open your favourite book in a desperate attempt to diverge the direction of your thoughts.

You are torn between biting your nails from the uncertainty of your future career and halting in the story and daydreaming about Gwilym’s visit tonight. And with that mindset, you go about your day while you clean up, water plants, and dust your flat; you have been putting it off for ages.

Emerged in thoughts, you almost mishear the buzzing sound of the bell. You are wearing baggy trousers and an old t-shirt with stains God-knows from what. You have reckoned you’ve still got time to change before Gwil’s visit. Oh well, he has seen you at your worse.

However, your brows furrow as you step into the hall and catch a glimpse of the digital clock.

5.40 p.m.

Swinging the door open, you are met with no one. Another sound of the bell and the line on your forehead deepens.

“Hello,” you mutter when you press the intercom, and the static comes through.

“Y/N! Hi! Ready to go out and grab coffee with me?”

It takes a moment before the dots connect.

“Oh, Daniel, hi! I… erm… can you give me ten minutes?”

“Sure thing!”

The dash across your flat, from the door to the dresser, then to the bathroom and back to the hall could be considered a match to any Olympian’s winning sprint race, but it is too early after your accident and your ankle makes itself known. You grit your teeth and grab a purse, leaving your flat and hoping no appliances have stayed turned on.

How could you have forgotten?! Stupid, stupid, stupid!

“Hi!” you greet breathlessly when you fly from the entrance door, and Daniel gives you a lopsided smile.

“You forgot, didn’t you?” No matter how hard you try not to give anything away, the blush on your cheeks betrays you. “Oh my God, you did!” Barking out a laugh, he lets you take a couple of deep breaths before you start walking down the street. “Maybe it should be you who’s gonna buy the coffee today.”

“Gladly,” you smile and spot a cosy café. For a split second, you consider taking him to Hazel’s, but then you imagine the soft hues of brown and gold against black and white background of your most beloved café. Your mind goes straight to the day you bumped into Gwil and Ben in there and you do not wish to stain that memory. Besides, this café is right behind the corner of your block of flats, which means you shouldn’t get stuck at some far-off place. “Actually, I owe you ‘cos I’ve got some plans at seven and I need to get home by then.”

“Oh, okay,” he replies hesitantly, and you bite your lips, feeling like an arse. Well, you can make it up for him by paying for the coffee, right?

~

You are trying. You are really, truly trying. Daniel is nice. Funny, smart, and knows all the iconic movie lines off pat, however, the moment you look into his eyes, you feel nothing, there is no bated breath, no heart beating fast. Nothing. And honestly, it seems you are not making a particularly good impression either. He takes notice of your constant checking the time on your phone, and when you catch yourself doing it for an umpteenth time, you roll your eyes at yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you mutter after a moment of silence, which you wish were a companionable one, but you are too fidgety.

“It’s fine, I get it,” Dan offers a sheepish smile, which you return. “Let’s get you back home, okay?”

The wind is chilling and light drizzle lands on your hair. As you walk down the street, you notice that Daniel is trying to gently hold your hand. It starts with your fingers brushing and you would dismiss it as an accidental touch but when his fingertips graze the back of your palm, you sense the intention in the gesture. You bring your hand up, brushing off a damp strand of hair and scratching the back of your neck so as not to give him another opportunity for touch.

Hoping this debacle is behind you now, you say your goodbyes and grab the door handle to your building. Oh, how foolish!

“I know you’re lost in thought today but it was a nice date and honestly, I’m not ready for it to end.” He gives you a smile and his eyes sparkle when you stop in your tracks and turn your head to face him.

His gaze drops down to your lips and you are (literally) taken aback by the movement to such extent that your body shoots away. In the process, you press your back to the doorbell panel and jump a bit, not expecting that kind of contact.

“Careful.” Daniel’s fingers find your waist to keep you upright. “I realise I might not be the man of your dreams, but I hope we can go for dinner next time.”

“I…” you start, unable to find the words that would not hurt him.

“No, don’t say anything,” he whispers, and it is only then when you realise his face has inched closer to yours. And then he presses his lips to yours, and you freeze at the spot.

Your eyelids do not tremble with emotion, neither do you melt into his touch. You just stand there, barely moving your lips and thinking that this guy just cannot take a hint. You might have been waving the ‘I am not interested’ flag right in front of his face and he still would be none the wiser.

When he finally lets go, your gaze is still fixed forward and you suck in your lips in a subconscious effort to prevent him from another attempt of a kiss. However, you catch a flicker of light in the corner of your eyes and without giving it a second thought you twist your neck, and your gaze falls into the entrance hall. The windowpane which reflected two figures kissing a moment ago turns transparent and reveals a figure standing inside.

He’s there, at the top of the staircase, taking you by surprise for a second time this day.

But this time, his eyes are hurt behind his glasses, a deep line is forming on his forehead, and it seems as if he’s rooted to the cold stone floor. Your heart is breaking at the sight of him and you know you must do anything within your power to atone for this moment because you never ever want to see such pain written in his face.

“Gwil,” you breathe out softly and bend down to escape Daniel’s embrace. Pushing the main door, you rush to your neighbour, your friend, your… “Gwil, this means nothing, I’m not –”

“My doorbell rang, and I was foolish enough to think you couldn’t wait until seven. I…” He is avoiding your gaze, his eyes roving round the hall. He brings his hands to his sides, but quickly finds out there are no pockets in his soft camel pleated trousers and so he clasps them together. When he bites his trembling lips, it is almost unbearable to keep your eyes on him, but you cannot look away either.

Then, his features harden, and it is probably worse than before as your stomach tightens.

“Goodbye.”

You almost miss the sound, his voice barely above a whisper. Tears threaten to fall down your cheeks, but Gwilym is already gone, his moccasins tapping against the cold tiles of the stairs. You fight the urge to wrap your arms around yourself and have a breakdown right here and now. All you do is simply turn around, every movement calculated so as not to make an unnecessary one. Daniel is still standing at the entrance, his eyebrows raised in the piqued curiosity of what has just occurred.

“I can’t go for another date with you. I’m sorry.”

But you don’t feel sorry at all, well, not sorry for him at least. Your thoughts have turned into a tangled ball of turmoil and indescribable emotions, which are hard to make sense of.

When you reach your floor, you stop in your tracks to your flat. You have thought you lost all the courage, but you muster some from deep inside and cross the hall to knock on his door with determination.

God knows how long you are standing there, you knock again, and again.

Nothing.

Not even a sign of hope.

Your heart skips a beat when you finally hear the creak of a door being open, but a lump forms in your throat instead when it dawns on you that it is not Gwil’s door but Mrs Thompson’s.

“Hello Mrs Thompson,” you greet meekly the slightly open door of the 3A flat and drag your feet to your home.

You do not bother taking off your shoes or clothes. Crushing straight into your bed, you finally give yourself the permission to let your emotions flow and cry yourself to sleep.

~

Taglist: @lv7867​, @spacedustmazzello​, @queenwouldyourathers​, @im-an-adult-ish​, @fairestkillerqueenofall​, @supernaturalee​, @queenlover05​, @geek-and-proud​, @chlobo6​, @mrsmazzello​, @timeandpixiedust​, @kerouacsroad​, @gwilsmainhoe​​

[yonymii]

2 arabesques

a/n; this one was hard to write bc I did it while having writers block but I hope it's ok!! I love alisa a lot she is lovely and I would marry her if she was real 🥰🥰😍😁😁 also I got very absorbed like, halfway through so y/ns personality is basically me. yes

wc; 3.9k

warnings; cursing,

genre; fluff, strangers/friends to lovers, romance

pairing; alisa haiba x gn!reader

listen to 2 arabesques here!

She reminded you of the old paintings of angels you’d seen in art galleries as a child. It was weird, seeing something so ethereal reincarnate as a university student. She didn’t belong here; she belonged on a pedestal, deserved to be adored. But life was unfair, you supposed, and not everyone could experience the excitement of such an elaborate life. Perhaps that was why she was studying fashion modeling in the first place (whatever that was). You’d probably never know. She had absolutely no idea who you were.

By the time you’d stopped daydreaming, your final class of the day was over and everyone had left. Only you were left in the lecture hall, sitting at the very back with your head resting ontop of your arms, the shuffling of the professor packing up his things quickly making tiny little noises at the front of the room. He left, the door swinging shut behind him, but it wasn’t locked. 

It didn’t take you long to pack up, seeing as your laptop hadn’t left your bag in the first place. You swung it over your shoulder after your coat, tucking your hands into the sleeves to protect them from the bite of the wind. It had been snowing when you arrived in the morning, and it took and hour to wake up your fingers to be able to type, let alone write anything. 

The hallways were quiet (as usual; it wasn’t as if anyone wanted to stay in school when they didn’t need to). The little shop on the ground floor had a few students in it, but they were in a hurry to leave too. The large exit doors had obviously been open all day and it was absolutely freezing. You were glad you’d put on your big coat in the morning; it was a long walk back to your apartment and you planned on going to a coffee shop before going there.

It had stopped snowing, but the ground was covered in puddles and your boots and feet got soaked in numbingly cold water as you wandered towards the place you usually studied. It was slowly getting darker as you walked and the sun was lowering itself below the tall line of skyscrapers and apartment blocks when you entered the coffee shop and joined the small queue of teenagers and tired-looking adults ordering their drinks. 

It was quiet inside but you were thankful for the warmth the heaters provided, and the low hum of voices under the music wasn’t unwelcome; you payed for your drink quickly and went to sit at your usual spot, the two-seater table in the corner. There was a small, dim light hanging above your head and it lit the space in a soft, golden glow, unlike the rest of the coffee shop that was lit by streetlamps outside. The moon was hid behind a building, only half of it visible, but you still found yourself staring at it for an unnecessary amount of time. It reminded you of her; your friend’s friend. The girl studying fashion modeling. 

To be quite honest, you didn’t see her that often, so it was a mystery as to why she plagued your mind so often. Apparently, her brother played volleyball for a highschool called Nekoma (albeit not very well), and she was half Russian. Not that it mattered to you, though. You supposed that you’d like her anyway. 

Suddenly, you found yourself snapped out of your little trance by the waiter bringing your mug to the table and setting it down a little too loudly. He walked away quickly, avoiding any sort of contact with you, but you weren’t bothered by it. You were focused on your book so the lack of conversation wasn’t disappointing in the slightest. The bell at the door rung again, and because of the small distraction of your drink arriving you raised your head to see who it was, somewhat begrudgingly, despite it being completely of your own accord.

Your eyes were met with a pair of stark green ones that seemed to go right through you; you shivered, not because they were unfriendly. Admittedly, you knew who she was, but your frank lack of energy made it hard to want to communicate with anyone, and so you pretended not to see her, looking back down at your book and swiftly burying yourself in the pages, as if you were trying to hide from her.

You knew your efforts were futile though. She was almost too nice, and it wasn’t like she knew you were already half-asleep and probably weren’t able to form a coherent sentence. At this point, you weren’t even reading. The words were going right over your head. 

You heard her footsteps before her voice, and you didn’t even need to look up to know she was smiling. “Y/n!”. Too loud. You tried not to wince to noticeably.

“Hey, Alisa,” you managed to spit a greeting out. You weren’t sure what you thought about her at this point. You were tired, and it was late, and you had so many essays due that you doubted you’d get more than an hour of sleep over the next few days. Yeah, sure, you loved her but you were so overwhelmed you didn’t think you’d be able to handle talking to one more person. Emotions were confusing (especially when you considered yourself to be in love, whatever that felt like).

“How have you been?”, her voice was like silk, and you had to wait a moment to process what she was saying. Alisa continued, “I haven’t seen you since last month! How have you been?” she looked down at your book, then at your bag that barely held all the paper assigments from your classes. She laughed (the same laugh that gave you heart palpitations. This  was the reason she wasn’t good for you) “You look busy.”

You laughed (it was sort of forced, but that isn’t the point), “Yeah. School tends to keep you busy,” you paused, adding shakily, “I’m used to it, though. Don’t worry about me!” 

The blonde girl frowned as she watched you panic, your eyes darting everywhere but her. It was hard not to worry when you watch someone you consider a friend fall apart in the back corner of a coffee shop. She tried her best to ignore it though, and as soon as you managed to look back at her she continued the conversation.

“I don’t think we have each other’s numbers yet, y/n. Do you mind exchanging? Maybe we could go out together sometime, since i have to get home and look after Lev,” she sighed, and her eyes closed momentarily, “He’s a bit of a handful. For a fifteen-year-old.”

You didn’t have the energy to feel sorry for her but you let her enter her number into your phone, and she listened attentively when you told her yours to make sure she didn’t get it wrong and end up texting a random stranger to make plans. After you watched her leave, take-out cup of coffee in hand, you lay your head on the darkening pages of your book, ear pressed to the paper. You closed your eyes for a moment and then sat up, breathing deeply as you drank the rest of your tea. You closed your book, tucking it into the bottom of your bag and standing up, patting your coat pocket to check that your phone was still in there. 

It was pitch-black when you stepped outside, and the streetlamps made you squint and cover your eyes with one hand; your apartment wasn’t too far away but it was cold and taxis were easy. You flagged one down and climbed into the back, sitting directly behind the driver (it made you feel safer anyway), and you put in your headphones. 

The drive passed quickly, and as soon as you paid for the journey and exited the car you began to walk briskly up the stairs to your place. Your keys were in the same pocket as your phone, and you pulled them out wearily, pushing the silver one into the lock and turning it till you heard the familiar click. 

The door felt extra heavy tonight, and your bag dropped to the floor just as quickly as you dropped onto your bed. The lights were too bright to turn on but the fairy lights lining the walls were fine; you opted for them as you dropped your thick coat next to your bag and shoes. Closing the window from the freezing cold and switching on the little heater, you crawled into bed and let the warmth envelop you. You fell asleep in mere seconds, ignoring the loud vibrations from your phone carry across the room. 

-

Most of the time, when you don’t want to reply to someone’s message or call them back, you just pretend to have not read it or noticed in the first place. It was weird, leaving the notification there, just to remind yourself that she texted you first. When you’d exchanged numbers the previous week, you just assumed that you’d be the first one to reach out. That’s how it had been with every other friend you’d made. You weren’t disappointed; in fact, you were grateful. You hated having to initiate conversations, however you still felt bad for not replying. 

It had been five days since Alisa first messaged you, three since the second time, and fifteen minutes since the last. The latest one read ‘I’m coming over. Be about 20 minutes!’. 

You sighed, reading it once more and then turning your brightness down. Just because you hadn’t replied to any of her texts didn’t mean you weren’t ok. The music barely reached your ears since you were buried so deep under your covers, but that was fine. You weren’t really listening to it anyways.

There was a knock at the door. You didn’t think that the person on the other side realised how thin it was, but you definitely heard them sigh and let out a string of curses after you didn’t reply. It was Alisa, but you knew that. Nobody else would want to check in on you. The doorknob rattled and you winced; too loud. It opened, a little quieter this time, and slowly, the covers were peeled off of your figure. Alisa sighed (again. How sick of you could she possibly be? You only got back in touch less that six days ago) and looked down at you with disdain. 

“You need to get up. Have you missed any classes?” you shook you head in response to her questions. You couldn’t miss classes. It’s not as if you found them particularly difficult. Just a little boring, that’s all. 

You closed your eyes, tapping your fingers against the mattress. The blinds had been opened and now the evening light was pouring into your room unfiltered. Alisa grabbed your wrist gently, pulling you up painfully slowly. You groaned, rubbing your eyes and patting her hand to let her know you can sit up on your own. 

You opened your eyes somewhat begrudgingly, squinting from the still too-bright light. Alisa was stood at your small fridge, rifling through whatever food was left in there. She pulled out a half-full bottle of milk and a packet of ham. “Do you not uhh,” she paused, “have any… other kinds of food? Or is your diet limited to milk and ham sandwiches?” 

“I usually get takeout. Or ham sandwiches. Sort of depends how lazy i’m feeling on that day.” She turned and smiled at you, nodded her head back towards the door. “We can go to mine. I have ‘good’ food there. Lev needs feeding anyways.”. You grinned, “I thought Lev was fifteen?” 

“Yeah, but he’s still incompetent. I’ll teach him to cook later, when i’m not taking care of you.”

You looked down at your lap, and then at the pair of shoes on the floor next to your bed. Sliding them on, you stood, looking at Alisa for approval. “You look fine. When was the last time you changed?”

You hesitated, thinking for a moment, “A few hours ago, when i got back from class.” You grabbed the brush on the bedside table and combed through your hair a few times, evening it out from the mess it was a minute ago. “C’mon,” Alisa opened the door, “Don’t forget your keys! I doubt you wanna get locked out, right?”

-

Alisa’s house was big. She was lucky not to have to live in student accommodation, in all honesty. When you sat down on her large sofa, you heard the voices of two adults nearing. You weren’t sure what to think at this point. You and Alisa barely knew each other, and she’d come to your apartment, dragged you out of bed, invited you into her home where her whole family was. 

“Alisa, darling? Have you brought a friend over?” 

You saw her nod out of the corner of your eye as she made your meal, humming quietly to the tune of the music. There were loud, fast footsteps in the corridor that her parents had exited and looking up, you saw a lanky grey-haired boy with the same stark green eyes as her. He was almost as tall as the ceiling, and when he entered the room he had to duck to get through the threshold. You assumed this was Lev, Alisa’s high school age brother. Volleyball boy. Whatever. He was unimportant, and you were hungry. 

“Ah! Lyovochka! Are your teammates here? Do they want food?” she didn’t look up from the kitchen counter as she spoke but Lev nodded, running back to ask his friends if they wanted food. (He never came back to give any sort of answer, though)

“So!” the sudden appearance of Alisa’s mother was unexpected. She was just as pretty as her daughter, but very obviously older. “What’s your name?”

You stuttered, panicking slightly, avoiding any possible eye contact. You looked to Alisa for help, and caught her gaze as she hurried over, sitting next to you. “This is y/n, mom. We met a while ago but i invited her over for lunch today,” she looked at you and patted your thigh, trying to calm you down slightly, “We might go out to the city later, if that’s okay with them.”

Alisa’s mother raised her eyebrows at your unwillingness to speak; maybe she thought you were being rude, but you didn’t have the capacity to worry about that right now. “Nice to meet you, y/n.” You nodded, slightly dizzy from being so overwhelmed but trying to be as polite as possible nonetheless. Alisa’s dad was stood behind the sofa, a large cup of what you assumed to be tea inbetween his hands. 

Alisa stood and ushered her parents away, towards the door. “Were you going out?” they nodded, grabbing bags and phones on the way out, “We’ll see you later, then!” Her father tried protesting, but Alisa reassured them that Lev was completely fine while you and her were here. 

Once the door was closed, Alisa looked back at you apologetically. “Sorry about them! They can be a little overbearing sometimes.” she gave you a small smile and pulled out two plates. “I think that’s an understatement.” you replied quietly. 

She laughed loudly, earning a smile from you. “I’m glad you’re okay now though.” she looked at you, smile instantly gone from her face. “You are okay, right?” You nodded, and she relaxed, serving your food onto the plates and bringing them round to the coffee table you were sat facing. “It might be a little hot. Wait a bit before you try it.”

You picked up your plate and put it onto your lap, the warmth of it heating your legs, as if the heat of the room wasn’t already enough. Your face felt warm and your hands shook slightly as you reached to pick up the food; you were either hungry or nervous. It was probably best to not think about it too much.

Alisa was staring at the TV that was sat on a polished wooden desk by the wall, her eyes mirroring the images from the screen. From the looks of it, she was watching a documentary on animals in the arctic, probably one you’d seen before. You weren’t looking at it, but the narrator’s voice sounded familiar and when you were little you’d watch stuff like that constantly, sometimes the same one over and over again until you got bored of it then moved on to the next one (which you’d also - metaphorically - beat half to death and then abandon)

After your meal, the two of you were still, to your displeasure, sat it silence. Alisa had turned the show off and was now sat reading a book and you were fiddling with your hands, waiting for her to notice you and let you go home (really, you could leave any moment, but you didn’t want to say anything first). 

You stood up upon hearing Lev shouting from what you assumed was his room, and Alisa’s head immediately snapped up. She checked the time on the clock above the kitchen counter, and gasped, looking at you apologetically. 

“Gosh! Y/n, you should have told me it was so late! I’ll walk you home.”

You shook your head, and the blonde girl in front of you sighed. “Are you sure? It’s getting dark. At least let me call you a taxi, ok?”. You hummed out a noise of approval and she picked up her phone that had been resting precariously on the arm of the sofa. 

As she was speaking to the person on the other end of the line, (a series of yeses followed by her address and then your street. You smiled, tapping your chest and then sliding your arms into the sleeves of your jacket. She opened the door for you and the taxi pulled into her drive as you stepped out of the threshold; you waved at her, thanking her for your stay, and then wandered over to the taxi, sitting in your usual seat (behind the driver) and she only closed the door of her home when the car drove off. Your phone buzzed; ‘text me when you get home safe, ok! -Alisa <3’.    

-

The next month was January.

The holiday season had passed without you seeing Alisa once, except for in a corner shop once, where you pretended not to see her but ended up being approached anyways. That time there was a pink coating her porcelain skin (you weren’t sure whether it was makeup, the cold or an actual blush, but you opted for the last one to satisfy yourself somewhat).

You sort of wished that you’d been able to spend the holidays with her, though. Sometimes, you found yourself thinking about her unconsciously. It was weird, but you ignored it. Stuff like that seemed like a lot of effort to you, and you were not notorious for being invested in relationships, platonic or romantic. 

You only had one class today, and after that you saw her in the hallways. She’d obviously had a class in the same building of you, and as usual, you pretended not to have seen her. You just kept walking, coffee in hand, eyes on the floor. Again, like the first time you’d really talked, you heard her footsteps approaching and accepted your fate. 

“Y/n! Hey!” she kept walking after you; you buried your face into your scarf and tried to get yourself to stop but it felt like your feet were moving on their own. Why were you ignoring her? You liked her, for god’s sake! You barely knew her, you should be using moments like these to get to know her better! What the hell were you doing?

Her hand landed on your shoulder and pulled you back. By now, the pair of you were outside, and your feet were crunching over newly layed snow. It was coming down thickly, you had to squint to see her properly. She looked tired, and her face was pale in comparison to the pink of the tip of her nose and her ears. It was cold, after all, and she didn’t have a scarf of hat or anything. You wanted to lend her yours; that was what people who were close did, wasn’t it? Why did she look so bedraggled anyway? 

“Y/n, seriously, stop.” 

You frowned, confused. You looked sad? And why would she care anyways? You weren’t close, and you could see her friends looking on from the steps of the building. The snow was catching in her hair and it felt like time had stopped; she really did look unreal. “I didn’t know you cared about me so much, Alisa. We’re not close, and we barely ever talk.”

It looked like she was about to cry. Maybe it was the cold?

“I don’t need a reason to care about you, y/n!” she reached a hand up to rub her eyes, “I can’t seem to stop thinking about you, and it’s driving me crazy!” she pointed to her friends on the steps, “They know it!” she was shouting now, and the wind seemed to whistle even louder in your ears, “Everyone else seems to know i’m in love with you except you! And i’m sorry if i didn’t make it obvious enough for you.”

At this point your brain was going overdrive to process what she’d just told you. You knew you probably looked stupid just standing there and staring at he but what else could you do? This wasn’t exactly how you’d pictured your evening going, and despite receiving confessions before this one felt different; you felt like your heart was on fire. It burned, and you were out of breath despite standing completely still. Alisa reached out and took your freezing cold hand into her own. She was surprisingly warm, and there were tears dripping off of her chin onto her coat. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that, you probably never felt the same way. Like you said, right? We barely even know each other.”

You stepped forward (again, it felt like you weren’t in control of your own feet) and with the hand Alisa wasn’t holding, cupped her cold cheek. She looked back at you and you could see her friends out of the corner of your eyes chewing the inside of their cheeks. It was embarrassing to say the least, but necessary. Alisa sniffed, and you looked back down at the ground, shaking your head. “No that’s not what i..” you tried to make your voice louder, “I just didn’t expect you to also feel like that.” 

She laughed (it was probably the most beautiful noise you’d ever had the pleasure of hearing) and leaned in so that your foreheads were touching, her pretty smile still adorning her lips. “I’m glad,” she whispered, and the burning of your cheeks felt like a blazing fire across your face. 

“Call me later, ok?” you nodded as she moved her face away, hand leaving yours reluctantly. “We can go out sometime. If it’s uhh.. okay with you, of course.” You giggled, and Alisa waved, her friends running after her (also giggling and patting Alisa’s head in what looked like celebration). It had stopped snowing, and the sun was shining through the clouds in a golden evening glow, lighting up the city marvellously. You decided to walk home today.

tags; @chqrryvelvet @wissbby

[madamewriterofwrongs]

35 💕💕

Absolutely, dear!

Sensory Prompt List

35.  Blowing a raspberry against someone’s skin

Build the Foundation

Eddie sighed when he entered the bedroom to find Buck curled away from him. It had been the silent treatment all day and frankly, it was getting a little tiring having to walk on egg shells around his husband. He’d wanted to apologize but Buck wouldn’t give him the time of day, it seemed: sitting across from him at lunch instead of at his side where he belonged, refusing to speak to him at work unless they were on a call (all Buck would tell the others was ‘he knows what he did’ and Eddie was not about to tell his friends what they were fighting about); he’d made the mistake of rolling his eyes when he thought Buck wasn’t looking and that had been a huge mistake.

Was it bad if all he wanted to do was kiss the pout off his face? He looked adorable when he was put out, how was he meant to resist those lips? It was those lips that he’d fallen in love with six years ago (the lips that had put him out of his misery when he’d stumbled through a proposal for a first date, and Buck had kissed him with a promise to pick him up at 8). How he loved those lips.

Again, not the response Buck had been looking for when he’d whined about Eddie being in the doghouse.

He was supposed to be sleeping on the couch tonight, but it was his bed after all. Just because Buck was grumpy with him didn’t mean he needed to forgo a good night’s rest. He wasn’t the 20-year-old, couch surfing for a week after he told Shannon he wanted to enlist in the army. His back would not survive another freeze out from his partner.

So, he’d just have to make amends, wouldn’t he.

Buck sensed his presence as soon as Eddie stepped foot in their room but didn’t turn around; the slightest tensing of his shoulders gave him away and he knew Eddie would notice, but still, he said nothing.

When Eddie crawled under the sheets and ran a firm hand around his stomach to pull him close, Buck stayed silent again.

When Eddie peppered light kisses behind his ear and down his neck, he felt the slightest hitch in his breath but otherwise, Buck continued to ignore his husband.

This called for desperate measures.

He brushed his lips along the skin he’d memorized with his fingers, and tongue and teeth so long ago, keeping each touch light and teasing. Buck always shivered when Eddie took his time leaving barely-there kisses – he was always too impatient and Eddie loved how easy it was to make his body twitch with anticipation.

As his ministrations swept over his husband’s shoulder and over his ribs, Eddie went in for the attack.

“What the hell, Eddie?”

Buck jumped into his arms at the sudden vibration against his skin, turning to look him in the eye for the first time in hours.

“It’s called a raspberry.” Eddie shrugged innocently, hiding his wicked smile of victory.

“I know what it’s called.” Buck shoved him towards the centre of the bed so there was some thinking space between them. “What are you doing?”

Admittedly, it was a bit of a childish move, but it had gotten him what he wanted so who was he to argue with the time-honored tradition?

“It’s how I get Christopher to smile after he’s being grumpy.” It was true, he hadn’t done it since the boy declared he ‘wasn’t a kid anymore, dad.’ – and Eddie had definitely cried a little at that – but he still had fond memories of the days when it was just the two of them, and he could easily pull a giggle from the boy he loved with all his heart.

Hopefully he could do it again.

The sound that fell from Buck’s lips was decidedly not a giggle, but closer to the frustrated sigh he saved for the days when words came harder.

“I’m not being grumpy, Eddie. I’m hurt.”

One look at Buck and he stopped his playful hopes. The way his eyebrows dropped and his pout had flattened into a clenched frown: he was upset. Not pouting for a little while until they both calmed down, genuinely upset with him. It didn’t make sense.

Eddie blinked in confusion. “I’m sorry I watched Master Chef Junior without you.” He tried to sound sincere but it still seemed a little ridiculous to him.

From the way Buck sat up on the bed, eyes stunned and searching his expression, that was not what he was expecting to hear.

“You think that’s why I’m mad at you?”

His only recourse was the shrug. What else could it be? He’d spent all day, assuming that the cold shoulder was for some minor indiscretion when clearly, there was something going on that he had no idea about. Eddie tried to search their recent history for the cause of their distance, but he came up with nothing.

Buck’s sigh contained multitudes of annoyance, and frustration, and anger. “I saw the letter you got yesterday. It was at the top of mail pile on your desk this morning while you were in the shower.” He spoke with so much intention of shame, which only made Eddie feel guilty for having no earthly idea what the hell he was talking about.

He sat up to match his husband’s position, begging to find his thread of thought. “I haven’t had a chance to go through the pile, yet” he explained.

There was something in Buck’s expression that startled him: sympathy, maybe? The rest was still covered in anger and disbelief; stunned and raw. “So you don’t know?” When Eddie shook his head slowly, Buck wound up for another accusatory glare. “They’re considering your offer.”

His stomach dropped. Buck knew. He was angry. Of course he was angry. They were considering his offer and he hadn’t even told Buck about it.

They were considering his offer!

“They are?” There was no hiding the excitement that coloured his words as he curled onto his knees. This was unbelievable – truly. It wasn’t a guarantee, obviously, but it was hope. He needed a little hope every once in a while and this was-

“So it’s true?”

Eddie pulled the breaks and gaped at the still frustrated Buck before him. Regret replaced his excitement; he’d done this all backwards.

“I genuinely didn’t think they’d take it seriously;” he quickly tried to reassure. “it was well below their asking price, but I just had to know if it was even possible.” Had to know if there was even a chance that he could have it all. And, apparently, the universe decided to grant him another mercy (the first was when Christopher was born, the second had been looking up to see a shower of gunfire lighting the sky, the third had been meeting Buck). Buck; whose expression was slowly fading into a pout that could easily be kissed away.  

“You did it without me, though.”

Eddie reached for his hands and his husband took them willingly, their wedding rings burning cold against their skin. “I didn’t want to get your hopes up. I know how much you liked it, and I really didn’t think they’d consider it.” It truly was a miracle that he’d received an accursed letter at all. If the price he paid for a bit of hope, was a day of misunderstanding, he would happily pay it. “Forgive me for keeping it from you?”

The coy look on his husband’s face as he squeezed his hands in response, made Eddie wary. “If you’ll forgive me for lying.”

Definitely wary. “What did you lie about?”

The shy smile burst into an open grin full of the joy he’d been missing all day. “They’re not considering your offer anymore. They accepted. I called Grace this afternoon.”

Not for the first time that day, Eddie felt his heart burst from his chest at the mental whiplash. The hope he’d held onto morphed into the exhilaration he hadn’t allowed himself to feel. They’d accepted his Hail Mary and Buck knew all about it. Christopher was going to be so…hold on. Eddie scrutinized his husband’s glorious expression. “But you were mad at me.”

Buck rolled his eyes. “Yeah, because I thought you knew why I was mad and just weren’t ready to apologize.”

Eddie snorted at him, even as he pulled Buck in for a long-awaited kiss; their reconciliation made sweeter by the prospect of this next step together.

He pulled away just far enough to stare into his husband’s eyes. “We got the house” he whispered, still in disbelief.

Buck came as close as he would to giggle at Eddie’s antics – a weighty chuckle in the darkness of their bedroom – and leaned in for another kiss. “We got the house.”

Their dream house; the one they’d viewed on their most recent day off, and had visions of waking up in the master bedroom, and building blanket forts in the living room, and making dinner as a family in the kitchen, and hanging art projects on the walls because nothing in a museum could match the master at home.

Buck’s excitement was palpable, vibrating out of his skin now that the secret had been reveal. “There’s still inspections and paperwork and a lot of headaches but if all goes well, we’ll take possession of the house about three months before the baby’s born.”

Three months to prepare their new home for an infant, lovingly surrogated and the addition to their family they’d been wanting on for years. Three months to move their teenaged son and entire life into a new home while maintaining their full-time jobs as first responders.

Eddie couldn’t care less.

Joy.

That was the only word to express the feeling in his chest at all the possibilities that lay before him and future he’d have with the man in front of him. The way everything felt bursting and yet settled with a confidence he didn’t always feel. But tonight, all there was, was joy.

“That’s not a lot of time.” He squeezed Buck’s hands.

His husband only had eyes for him, tenderly kissing their joined knuckles. “It’s enough.”

“More than enough” Eddie promised.

It was everything.

[simons-calling-the-127-squad]

First Impressions - YangYang

Warnings: drug usage, cursing, and violence

Credit to the original owners of the images.

GN "Bad Kid" Reader x "Good Kid" YangYang

Soulmate Au: First words to each other

"Y/N, are you paying attention?" Mrs. Song questioned from her position in front of the board.

"Yes ma'am", you said, trying your hardest not to roll your eyes. She looked at you for another moment before her eyes turned back to the notes written on the board, which you had already copied all of them down. You felt a poke in your ribs, your eyes moved over to your right where your friend Andy sat. Before she could speak the bell rang. You instantly moved to put your binder in your bag and waited for Andy to do the same. The two of you quickly walked out and waited in the back of the parking lot for the rest of your friends.

"I swear that woman has it out for you", she says pulling a bag out of her backpack.

"So help me you get us caught-"

"Don't worry", she cut you off, "I'll be careful."

"You better be sharing", Darren said as he walked over motioning for Andy to hurry up. She rolled her eyes and passed him the pipe. He instantly took it and inhaled, handing it to you who did the same.

"How dare you start without us?" Ryder said as he and Bridget joined your group, stealing the pipe from your hands.

"Hey no smoking, you have to drive your cousin home and your aunt will kill you if she finds out your high", Bridget said as she took the pipe from him.

"Speaking of which, where is the little shit?" He said, his eyes moving around the parking lot.

"That reminds me, anybody wanna gimme a ride? My sister has to work so she can't pick me up", you asked the group.

"Yeah sure. I'll need someone to keep me sane after I take Bridget home", Ryder said.

"Trust me. I'm not too happy about riding with you either", a voice said from behind him.

"We'll leave in a few. First, lemme introduce you to the gang. The blue-haired girl is Andy. The one with all of the piercings is Y/N. Green haired dude is Darren and you know Bridget. Guys this is YangYang."

"Sup", Darren told him as he took the pipe from Bridget. YangYang just nodded, it was obvious he was uncomfortable. You felt a bit bad for him, but that didn't stop you from taking another hit before leaving. Bridget got in the passenger seat, leaving you and YangYang in the back. It didn't take long for the two of you to arrive at Bridget's. She kissed Ryder and told you all bye before getting out.

"I need gas and snacks, so we're making a pit stop", he said as he pulled back onto the road. He was in and out of the gas station passing you a bag of chips and YangYang a candy bar.

"So I gotta ask. Why do you guys smoke?" YangYang inquired to his cousin after a bit of silence.

"Numbs things a bit. And with it, things hurt less. Y/N is better at describing it", Ryder replied. YangYang turned to you.

"Let it hurt until it can't hurt anymore. That's what it's like without it", you said. He nodded and turned back to look out the window.

"That answer your question?" Ryder glanced in the rearview mirror to look at YangYang, who nodded. The moment the car arrived at his house YangYang thanked his cousin and jumped out of the car.

"Hopefully I don't have to give him a ride again", he said as he backed into the road.

"Eh, he didn't seem that bad."

"Let's just hope he doesn't tell my aunt I'm a stoner", he whispered. You let out a little laugh and continued to talk until you got back home.

------

It became a tradition for Ryder to take you home, and for him to drive YangYang home on Thursdays. It had been a month since the first time you had met him, and he still hadn't talked to you. But you couldn't really blame him, you were the classic "bad kid" that literally got stoned in the school parking lot, and he was the "good kid" that had the perfect record. It still amazed you that he and Ryder were even related at all. Just like the first time you rode together, Ryder had to make a pit stop at the gas station, though this time he was taking much longer. You found yourself growing more and more tired as you waited. It didn't help that you were unable to sleep last night and had smoked some with the group before leaving. You forced yourself to stay awake and pulled out your phone, hoping to distract yourself from the temptations of falling asleep.

"Awake and unafraid", YangYang whispered, so low that you almost didn't hear him. Your eyes widened and they moved to your wrist, which was covered by your sleeve. The exact same words were etched into your skin. The words that had been there since your birth and would be the first words your soulmate told you.

"Talk about a plot twist", you mumbled, causing YangYang to laugh.

"I wasn't expecting it either", he admitted

"Wait a second", you said upon realization, "I talked to you the first time we rode with Ryder. You've known for a month that we're soulmates and didn't say anything?"

"Admittedly I was a bit concerned when I figured out that we're mates. But then I realized, things aren't that simple, that I know nothing about you and have no reason to have concerns. But I wasn't sure what to say, so I waited for the right time."

"I hate the fact that is reasonable. Second off, what the heck did you mean by unafraid?" Your torso moving to face him.

"You're unafraid of what others think. And to say what's on your mind. I've noticed that after learning we shared some classes."

"We have classes together?" You asked, your face twisting in surprise.

"Several", he answered with a laugh.

"Dang I'm blind."

"To be fair most times you're stuck in your head. And most likely stoned during class", he responded.

"Okay, you're not wrong on that. But lemme guess, you don't want people to know we're soulmates?" As you asked the question the driver's door opened.

"Hold the phone. Y'all are soulmates?" Ryder asked as he entered the car. Tossing candy at you two. The two of you nodding in response.

"And to answer your question. I'd much rather people know we're soulmates."

"Why though? You're the golden boy and I'm one of the resident stoners", you inquired as you opened up the chocolate.

"Because we're soulmates? The differences will definitely cause some trouble, but we'll be able to get through them", he told you.

"I still can't believe you two are mates", Ryder said as he started the car. The conversation was then put on hold, you assumed it would most likely be continued tomorrow.

---

It was lunchtime when you finally met up with YangYang.

"Sorry I'm late", he said. He dropped his bag onto the floor and sat next to you. He kept his head down and eyes trained on the table.

"You good?" You asked.

"Uh yeah, fine."

"YangYang, you do realize that I can tell your lying, right?" You said as you leaned closer to him. He finally peeked up at you, his eyes were a bit red.

"I hate the fact that I can't lie to you", he said with a slight pout.

"What happened?" You questioned.

His shoulders sagged as he mumbled something incoherently. You raised your eyebrows at him.

"Just Blake and Liam being their usual selves." That's when you noticed the scratch on his cheek.

"Woah hold up. They did that?" You could already feel the anger rising in you. YangYang must've seen it in your eyes and began rambling about how it usually is worse, but as your fists clenched in anger he knew he messed up. Instead, he started backtracking, but it was too late, you were already storming out of the cafeteria to behind the gym. You knew the two boys hung out there during lunch, as cliche as it was. You could hear YangYang trailing close behind and begging you not to do anything.

"Y/N, what's up?" Blake greeted upon seeing you. Before you would've returned the greeting, but now you just grabbed him by the collar.

"Hey what fu-" Liam started, as he moved to you. But you glare turned to him, he immediately paused.

"Wanna tell me what you did to YangYang?" You asked, backing Blake up until he hit the wall.

"Why do you care?" Liam asked.

"One chance to tell me. I might not hit as hard if you answer", your grip tightening.

"Okay we roughhoused a bit, so what?"

"Is this the first time?"

"Yes?" Your right knee jerked up to hit I'm in the stomach. He groaned in pain and would've doubled over had it not been for your hold on him.

"What the hell Y/N?" Liam asked, his eyes widened in shock.

"Shit, fine. We've done it before", Blake panted.

"Oh so now you wanna tell the truth?" You asked rhetorically as your left fist reeled back and connected with his jaw. You dropped him from your hold as you heard Liam rush over to you. His knee made contact with your ribs, but you lunged at him and tackled him to the ground. As his back hit the concrete he let out a huff. You wasted no time on landing the punches. You rolled off of him when Blake attempted to yank you off. Your right foot landed on his chest and he stumbled back after the kick. You stood up, as he hobbled back towards you, and you grabbed onto his hair. He yelped at the pain of you pulling him up by it. You landed a final punch on his cheek and let go before shoving him to the ground where he sputtered up the smallest amount of blood.

"Bully anyone else and you probably won't make it out of the hospital next time. Understand?" You informed them as you moved to stand in front of them. Blake nodded and Liam groaned.

"And tell anyone that if they touch YangYang they're dead. Spread the word that if they mess with my soulmate, I will find them", you told them before grabbing YangYang's hand and walking back to the cafeteria.

"Where were you guys?" Darren asked when you sat back down.

"Had to take care of some assholes. And Andy blacklist Blake and Liam from your selling list." She nodded.

"So what'd they do?" Bridget asked.

"They messed with my mate", you told her as you pulled a blushing YangYang into your arms. Everyone at the table was surprised to say the least, well besides Ryder who was dying of laughter.

----

YangYang had decided to ride with Ryder again, he had asked his cousin to drop the two of you off at a local park. You waved Ryder off as he and Bridget backed out of the parking lot and walked with YangYang to a nearby bench. The two of you didn't get to talk after getting back to the cafeteria and you knew he had something to say about the whole situation.

"Alright, go ahead and say it", you told him. He gave you a confused look.

"That you don't wanna date me after the whole lunch fiasco."

"That's not at all what I was gonna say. I was gonna say that A) next time please give me a warning if you're gonna kick someone's ass. B) that was awesome. And C) let's go on an official date and actually start dating." It was your turn to be confused.

You could feel your eyebrows pull together as you asked him, "You still wanna date me?"

"Uh yeah?"

"Why?" You blurted out, prompting the boy next to you to laugh.

"Well I know you'll always protect me. And you're fun. And my soulmate."

"Well, I didn't expect that." He laughed again and stood up, pulling you with him as he walked to a nearby bakery.

"Now let's go on our first date, soulmate", he winked. You smiled, thinking about how it was definitely gonna be interesting to see everyone's reactions on Monday morning. And how the two of your story plays out, but you're looking forward to it.

-🃏