#but i can’t do them in my sketchbook because i don’t feel like waiting for my painting to fully dry cause

[bluebellthesponge]

random scribble i did of me for some reason last night??? idk why it was like midnight last night and tired and wanted to go home already

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 8: Jealousy Doesn't Look Good On Anybody Except...

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter eight of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 4.1K

Warnings: References to sex, Cursing (a few times), Drinking, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC,

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

The song they dance to is "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" by Russ Columbo and this should take you to the song. It's the song I named the series for, because I believe it encompasses how both the reader feels, but also how Soldier Boy will feel in a few chapters. I also believe that the song House of Memories by Panic at the Disco, fits the more modern parts of the series.

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Philadelphia 1938

The lights twinkled along the ceiling of the dance hall as the gentle swell of jazz floated through the air. Couples swayed on the dance floor clinging to one another as the soft tones of the music soothed the dull throb of the whispers of rising tension overseas. It was a Saturday night, and you and a few of your friends from the Dawson School for Girls had slipped away to spend the evening twirling in the arms of whomever caught your fancy.

Well, at least that's what your friends wanted to do. There was only one particular man who'd caught your fancy, but he was nowhere to be seen.

The Dawson School for Girls was the answer to your mother's prayers, a boarding school in Boston, far away from Ben's "corruptive influence" as she put it. Ben was currently at boarding school number ten in Upstate New York. The last time you’d seen him was when you were on break and Ben had just left boarding school number nine for fighting with other students, but he wouldn't say what for. You’d sent him a few letters to tell him how bored you were including a few sketches and watercolor paintings, with minimal response, but it was like him not to write back.

You hadn't mentioned that Howard Stine had been coming on the weekends to take you out. Your mother was pleased with him, he checked all the boxes: wealthy, not Ben, educated, not Ben, from a nice family, not Ben, and of course most importantly, not Ben.

She was practically making wedding invitations and choosing the names of your children after only three months. However, it was nice to see her happy for a change, kept her from sniping at your figure now that someone was interested. Well, not sniping that much.

Howard was… nice, but he was one of the most boring people you'd ever met and he never understood why you always carried a sketchbook with you. When he'd taken you to Franklin Park one weekend, you stopped along the pond to sketch some of the ducks that were waddling on the bank, but Howard told you he didn’t have time to wait for you to draw them. Instead of telling him that he could just leave, you shut the sketchpad and continued to walk with him and quickly learned that it was better to leave your sketchpad at the dorm whenever he was in town. You also found yourself talking less and less, allowing him to fill the silence with his talk of the stock market crash and how the United States economy recovered due to the efforts of President FDR.

You hated that. You didn't recognize yourself when you were with him. You didn't feel like you.

And every time he was here all you could do was compare him to Ben. Ben would never tell you to stop drawing, yes he would tease you about it, but he always sat next to you while you were sketching, watching you work. You never understood that. Ben was so impatient with everyone else, but he was willing to sit with you for any inordinate amount of time if you were drawing while making you laugh the whole time.

I miss him so much.

"Can I get you a drink?" Howard puts his hand on the small of your back, leaning in to whisper in your ear. You try not to flinch at his touch. He had already been in town, walking you home from a dinner that was dominated by awkward silence and the clicking of utensils on plates when you'd run into your friends just as he was walking you back to the dorm. They had rounded the corner giggling and begging you to come with them. Despite your insistences for him to stay in and relax for the night at his hotel, he refused.

It meant that now you were stuck with him while all your friends got to twirl around with men that made them warm and giddy. Howard made you feel like you'd swallowed a lemon.

"I'm fine, but thank you." You force a smile.

Howard shrugs, before he walks away towards the crowded bar on the other side of the room and blessedly far away from you.

Your thoughts drifted to Ben. You missed your friend more than words could comprehend. Not just because you were far from your family in another city, but because it felt like you were missing apart of yourself when he wasn't there. You briefly wonder if he felt the same way when he wasn't with you.

Probably not.

You turn away from Howard's retreating figure, to watch the couples on the dance floor. You sway to the music, holding your arms around yourself and feeling your dark green dress swish around your ankles, one that you'd picked out yourself, not a monstrosity of pink tulle, but something that you believed accentuated the natural curves of your body that your mother used other dresses to hide. Your mouth turns down into a frown remembering how Howard had reacted to seeing you in it, when he tried to give you his jacket to cover up, but you refused.

You had wanted him to be stunned by how you looked in it, or at least, wanted someone to be. The same someone that was miles away and probably tickling the skirt of someone who caught his fancy.

"One of the most attractive men I've ever seen in my life is at the bar." Your friend Pearl stated looking behind you with wide eyes.

I've got you beat. You think to yourself to a sigh, wishing, again, that you were here with Ben instead of Howard.

"Very funny." You roll your eyes, thinking that she’s making fun of where Howard is sitting probably flagging down the bartender with both hands to catch his attention.

"I'm not talking about Howard. This guy is seriously a looker. And he's staring at you." Pearl says again.

"Sure." You continue to watch an elderly couple sway back and forth to the smooth jazz that ebbs from the band on stage.

Must be nice to be with someone for that long.

You watch how effortlessly the couple moves as one, how the man stares down at the woman with more love than you can comprehend. It makes your heart sink in your chest.

The way things were panning out, you were going to end up with Howard and you couldn't imagine looking at anyone like that other than Ben.

"You're about to see, because he's coming this way." Pearl takes a step back from you as if anticipating the stranger interrupting your conversation.

"He's not-" You begin to say, but you feel someone place their hand on the small of your back, turning you towards them.

"Fancy meeting you here." Ben smiles down at you, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

"Ben!" Your heart soars when you recognize your friend and you can't help but hug him so tight he laughs, the movement of his chuckle makes you feel alive for the first time in weeks. The sharp smell of whiskey and the familiar spicy scent of his cologne greets you.

"Guess you missed me." The rumble of his voice vibrates where your cheek rests against his chest.

"I did." You pull away from him reluctantly. "What are you doing here?" You can't help but smile at him, probably wider than what was attractive.

"Thought I'd stop by and visit on my way back to Philadelphia. Saw you walk into this place. " Ben shrugs. "What are you doing out so late?"

"Looking for trouble." You smirk.

"You found him sweetheart." Ben leans down towards you making your throat get unusually tight.

"Hi." Pearl says interrupting the conversation.

 Ben turns his smug smile on her. "Hi."

"I'm Pearl." She looks from you to Ben as if trying to decide that it's okay for her to introduce yourself.

"Benjamin." You watch him slip into the cool and smooth Ben, the one that charmed whomever caught his eye.

You can't help but feel a prick of jealousy against your skin. It was familiar, but every time it happened, it didn't make any of this easier. You knew that you shouldn't be jealous, you didn't have a claim on him, you were friends, just friends, only friends, best friends…

And now you were with Howard.

You let out a soft sigh watching the way that Pearl looks up at Ben and the way he leans towards her with the confident smirk you love so much on his face.

"Would you like to dance Benjamin?" She asks.

"I would." Ben's smirk turns into a smile.

Pearl steps forward to reach for his hand, expecting him to take it, but he doesnt.

"Come on sweetheart." Ben reaches out and takes your hand, twirling you ahead of him onto the dance floor.

"Ben-" You giggle, head spinning with the movement, but when he twirls you back into his chest, you feel your breath catch. This wasn't the first time you'd been pressed up against him and it wasn't the first time you recognized how perfectly you fit together. Your soft curves molding against the hardness of his muscles as you sway back and forth to the music. When you were pressed up against him, you didn't feel like you were too big, you felt perfect, because of the way you fit against him.

"You know I am here with someone-" You say, before you get too wrapped up in how good it feels to be with him.

"Yes. Howard Stine. Though I do believe you said he stepped on your toes." Ben smiles at you, eyes twinkling in the light.

"That was four years ago, and he's… sweet?"

"Hmph." Ben rolls his eyes. "You can't even say it with a straight face sweetheart."

"I have never said anything bad about your companions."

"Missy-"

"Besides her." You frown.

He laughs at your reaction, the hand clutched in your right seems to warm with his smile. "You've never said anything about them period."

Because I hate thinking about how many of them there have been. Because I hate that you don't see me as someone who could be with you.

"I try not to dwell on your numerous escapades."

"You sound a little jealous doll." He smirks at you.

"What was that you were saying about Howard again?" You tease, holding on to his shoulders as you sway back and forth to the music.

"Can't be jealous of someone I've seen get chased by a duck." Ben's eyes trace your body for a moment. Your cheeks blush under his gaze. "You look nice. Not one of your mom's I'm guessing?"

"What makes you say that?"

"You don't look like a cupcake." He spins you away one more time before bringing you back into his chest.

"No. I think she'd probably have an aneurysm if she saw me wearing this. Howard also thought it was a bit much-"

Ben's hand tightens on your waist. "What?"

You shrug, leveling your eyes on his chest to distract yourself from his hand placement. "He tried to get me to wear his coat."

"He what?"

You shake your head to dissipate the self-doubt and body-shaming conversation that was about to unfold in your head.

"It's nothing." You raise your gaze back to his, but you're surprised to see the anger that burns behind his green eyes.

"It's not nothing. He had no right to-"

"Ben." You soothe, rubbing your thumb over his shoulder to comfort him.

The song shifts to something softer, forlorn, a song that reminded you of the heartache you felt with Ben, but also a melody that eases your soul somehow.

"I don't understand why you're with him." Ben sighs, but you can still feel the tension in his shoulders beneath your hand.

"My mother is happy-"

"But you're not." The look in his eyes is unfamiliar, almost earnest, as if he's trying to get you to understand something that he can't say.

"Ben." You breathe.

"Fine. I don't want you to think about him when we're dancing to our song anyway." The look in his eyes shifts back to the playful green they'd been before.

"Our song?" The words make your heart skip a beat and you can't help but smile at him.

You couldn't remember the last time you'd smiled this much. Probably the last time I saw him.

"Yes." Ben dips you back, before bringing you up against him, the playful look in his eyes becoming softer as you come back.

You know that your own gaze is filled with love and you remember watching the elderly couple. The way they looked at one another warming your heart as you gaze up at Ben. The three little words tiptoe against your tongue, the three little words that you'd been trying to say forever, but you can't. You don't want to lose him, don't want to live in a world without him, because you know that it won't be worth living.

So instead you lean forward and lay your head against his chest, in the space between his neck and shoulder as the song continues. You think that you feel Ben's arms tighten around you, pulling you further into his embrace, but you chock that up to wishful thinking.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" You hear someone yell, and all of a sudden someone's hand is on your wrist jerking you away from Ben.

What?

Howard is standing there his chest pushed against Ben’s, trying to look intimidating, but Howard's inability to reach Ben's shoulders made it difficult for him.

You rub your fingers over your wrist, where Howard’s bright red handprint stands out against your skin.

Ben’s eyes shift to notice your ministrations, darkening with the force of his anger at the thought that Howard hurt you.

“I think I was dancing with my girl.” Ben’s eyes narrow, skating back to Howard.

Your heart skips a beat when he says that, but you shake away the thought, knowing that Ben is only saying that to make Howard angry.

“Your girl?!” Howard sputters, his face growing red. “She’s not your girl!”

“Howie, buddy-“ Ben’s confident smirk slips over his features but you still see the anger beneath the surface. “Calm down, you’ll give yourself a heart attack.”

“Just because you think you have some claim on her because you’ve been stringing her along with the harem that usually follows you, does not make her your girl!” Howard fumes. “She’s with me.” Howard grabs your wrist again and drags you towards him.

“Hey wait a minute-“ You begin to say.

Ben grabs the front of Howard's tailored suit, rumpling the pristine fabric. “Don’t you dare touch her like that.”

“I will touch her however I damn well please! She's mine-"

The grip on your wrist is so tight that you know it’ll leave bruises. “Howard wait-“ You try again to diffuse the tension, bringing your free hand to rest on his forearm to make him let go.

“Shut up.” He snaps, eyes flashing back to you.

Ben’s temper flares and the sharp crack of his fist against Howard’s face echoes through the room. Howard stumbles away, letting go of your wrist as he reels backward to the welcoming hardwood floor that catches him when he falls.

“Don’t you ever speak to her that way you arrogant son of a bitch!” Ben shouts taking a step forward. His shoulders are tense, fists clenched at his sides and his jaw is tight, as his anger burns through the air.

By now the band has stopped playing music and all the couples around you are watching with wide eyes.

I have to do something before he kills him.

You put yourself between them, your hands firmly planted on Ben’s muscular chest so your back is to where Howard stands fuming. “Ben. Don’t.”

But he’s not looking at you, his gaze is locked with Howard’s, eyes blazing, muscles tensing beneath the palms of your hands. You try to ignore how good his chest feels beneath your touch.

Damn it.

“Ben.” You say his name again.

His eyes snap back to yours. The soft green has hardened to an emerald with the force of his rage, so different than how he looked when the two of you were dancing. But he doesn’t say anything.

“Please.” You whisper. "Stop."

Ben looks from you to Howard, before he finally exhales. “Fine.” He mutters, and he turns and vanishes into the crowd of people without another word.

A minute passes and the music begins all over again, the band on the stage starting with a lively tune that makes the couples around you to move back on to the dance floor, but the tension of what just happened remains in the air.

Because what did just happen? Did Ben do that because he was protective of me? Or did he do that because he was jealous?

Your eyes trace where he vanished, longing for him to come back, but when he doesn't appear, you're left to deal with the aftermath. 

After numerous apologies to Howard, he finally relented and took you back to your dorm, leaving your group of friends at the dance hall. You knew there would definitely be a conversation about what just happened between you all when they got back, but even you were confused. Ben was always protective of you, but what happened seemed over the top. You think about how Ben called you “my girl," the way he said it sending a thrill down your spine. He’d never done that before and you wondered if it was because he wanted to get a rise out of Howard or because he believed it.

Not like he’s tried to do anything about it. You think to yourself stroking one finger against your bruised wrist. The discoloration was more prominent now, black and blue marks beginning to sprout like flowers in spring. Howard’s eye didn’t look much better when he dropped you off. You were surprised that he’d been forgiving enough to continue to see you, not that you wanted to see him, but you didn't think you could handle a letter from your mother.

Then again maybe she would pull you out of this ridiculous school.

A small tap at your window causes you to raise your head to look out the glass. Ben is sitting there, but he doesn’t smile like he usually does. Your dorm room was on the first floor, which meant that Ben didn't need to shimmy up a tree to get into it like he did when you were home. Then again this was the first time he'd showed up here and you wondered how he knew where your room was. You also weren't thrilled at his appearance because you didn't know when Pearl would come back and you weren't sure what your roommate would do if she came back and found Ben in your room. She was a stickler for the rules and despite your friendship, rooming with her was one of your least favorite things about the Dawson School For Girls.

“If they find you here I’m going to be in so much trouble.” You say helping him through the small window, putting your hand on the back of his head so that he doesn't bang it against the glass. "You might like getting kicked out of boarding schools, but I don't."

“They won’t find out.” Ben rolls his eyes. He glances at Pearl’s empty bed on the other side of the room. “Roommate not back yet?”

“No she was still dancing when I left.”

Ben frowns. “Where’s the asshole?”

“Ben-“

“What?”

“He left. And I don't exactly invite him up to where I sleep."

“Good.” Ben flexes his fist.

“How did you know which room was mine?” You ask. Ben had never come to see you before at boarding school and the fact that he was here probably meant that boarding school number ten was out.

“I might have guessed wrong.” He smirks.

“Uh-huh.” You sigh, but all you can think about is how he acted earlier. Your feet shift back and forth “Why did you hit him?”

Ben’s eyes darken. “He shouldn’t have touched you like that or said that to you.”

You stand there for a minute observing his reaction.

“He kinda deserved it." You say slowly.

You knew it was true. When Ben showed up Howard shouldn’t have lost it like he did, he definitely shouldn’t have grabbed you like that or called you his-

You stutter on that thought. But maybe he is right. I am Howard’s. We’ve been going steady… The thought of being his makes something curl up in your chest and die. There was only one man that you wanted to belong to.

"Yeah.” Ben sighs.

"Why did you call me your 'girl'?" You ask.

"Um." Ben shrugs. "Felt right in the moment."

"What?"

"I mean you are. You're my friend-"

"But that doesn't mean friend Ben." You say it gently trying to catch his eye, but Ben won't meet your gaze.

"Fine. I just wanted to mess with him a little bit." Ben frowns. "But I didn't like that he called you his, or the fact that he hurt you."

“But Ben I am his.” You whisper even though you don’t want to. “We’re going steady-“

“That doesn’t make you his!” Ben snaps, eyes flashing. “Just because he feels the need to say it doesn’t mean it’s true.”

“But Ben-“

“And I never want to hear you say it.” He continues loudly.

What is wrong with him? I've never seen him this angry about anything.

“Why?”

“Because that means he has some claim on you. You’re not his, you’re my friend.”

"You're being ridiculous. You're saying that he can't have some claim on me but you're possessively calling me your friend!" You shout back frustrated.

Why is he acting like this? Does he really hate Howard that much?

"I am not! I'm just saying that you're my friend and you're not his!"

“I can’t be both?” Your words hang in the air between the two of you and you mentally beg Ben to answer. He was acting like he wanted you to be his, like he believed that he had some claim on you and you couldn't remember another time that he'd acted this way. Sure he teased Howard, but this was more than that.

It was almost possessive and it kinda scared you how much you liked it.

Ben doesn’t answer your question. His shoulders are tense, hands clenched into fists at his sides, while something lurks behind his eyes that you can’t identify.

“Ben?” You say it like a question, ignoring the urge to press your hands against his chest like you did earlier at the dance to calm him down.

His gaze drops to your arm, where Howard grabbed you, tracing the bruises and clenching his jaw together. Ben’s right hand comes to delicately pick up your bruised wrist, running his thumb over the discolored flesh with a frown. “Does it hurt?” He rumbles changing the subject.

“No. Does that hurt?” You breathe noticing his bruised knuckles and gently probe your fingers along them.

You hated the though that he was hurt and for you, no less.

Why did he have to intervene? Why did he hit Howard?

“It was worth it.”

You both stand there for a minute, with Ben holding on to your wrist, touch surprisingly gentle.

“I just don’t like that he hurt you okay?” He mutters raising his eyes to yours. You weren't prepared for the soft look in his eyes. You expected him to still be angry over Howard, but he almost looked, worried.

“I'm okay Ben." You whisper back.

You want him to answer your question. You think again about telling him those three little words you wanted to say when you were swaying on the dance floor together but you can’t.

He nods once before he looks around the room, eyes falling on your sketchpad where it lays closed on your bed. "Got any new ones?"

You knew it was Ben's way of asking if he could stay, trying to tell you that he didn’t want to go back to Philadelphia that night, and you didn't want him to either.

"A few. If you're not too tired-"

"I’m never too tired for you."

You feel your heart beat rapidly in your chest. “Okay.”

The whole time you sit together on your bed, Ben doesn't drop your wrist, in fact he continues to brush his thumb against it while you look through your sketchbook. And in a few hours when Pearl finds you and Ben curled up in bed together, you’re not embarrassed, because deep down you’re starting to believe that Ben cared for you more than he was willing to admit.

Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series, please let me know :)

Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303

@deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs

@bughill126

[kivino]

Platonic!Task Force 141 x Eastern European!Reader

Word Counter – ~1.9k

Summary – a compilation of headcanons about how reader’s Eastern European background would affect interactions with Task Force 141 during an undercover mission together.

Tags/Warnings – Gn!reader, Eastern European!reader (obviously), Platonic!TF141, fluff, mostly.

A/n – RUSSIANS DNI (this is a personal boundary, so I ask you to respect it, if you don’t like it just scroll past this post). Very self-indulgent. Just showing more love to my fellow Eastern European readers. Since it is mostly based on my own experience growing up as a Ukrainian, I’m sorry if certain things don’t resonate with you! This whole thing was made for fun and fun only.

So, let’s assume our beloved Task Force needs to go undercover to get some information on Makarov and his merry band of goons. Obviously, they can’t do it without at least one team member, who is familiar with the way of living in Eastern Europe. So, naturally, Laswell introduces you to them – born and raised there, ready to help them and stop your sworn enemy from escalating an already pretty shitty situation.

“So, allow me to introduce your new team member for the duration of this mission” Laswell nods to the door when you walk in, saying your name and callsign, already catching some looks full of curiosity from Task Force 141.

First thing they noticed about you? Resting bitch face for days. Who needs a mask when you have a death stare that will give the heebie-jeebies to most if not all of your teammates? However, they feel even more taken aback when you suddenly greet them with a warm, welcoming smile and a firm handshake, not a trace of that sour expression on your face.

One would think that you’d spend hours preparing four of them for the mission by teaching them language, helping to memorize names and faces of contacts, Makarov’s trusted allies, and potential targets. Naturally, you did your job, but those precious hours were also spent with you standing next to a whiteboard, ranting about the politics and societal issues of your country, explaining certain national jokes, and teaching them swear words or poetry you studied at school. But hey, they’re not complaining (maybe a little).  

They were skeptical about this whole deal at first. However, there was a shared understanding between the four of them that they needed to do whatever it took to stop the spreading of Makarov’s influence and diminish his resources in other countries. With time, however, they’ve found things that made their life in a completely new environment a bit more enjoyable and interesting.

Soap would pick up on your native language the fastest out of the Task Force. Under all these jokes and goofiness Johnny’s a smart guy, inquisitive as hell too, which makes a pretty good mix. He’d try to write down how you pronounce things in his sketchbook, dedicating pages upon pages to making a small vocabulary of what you say, searching up the translations of words any chance he gets. Convinces himself that it just helps him to get more into his new way of life, and not at all because he likes seeing you all excited when he slips a word in your language somewhere in the conversation.

“So how do you say it?” he points to the sentence, messily scribbled on the page with the ballpoint pen he slipped from Gaz. There is a slight frown between your brows – the word looks unfamiliar, more like gibberish than something in your language. You can practically feel the gears in your head screech and come to a halt as you drill Soap’s handwriting with your eyes.

“Oh, wait. You made a mistake here. No wonder I have no idea what this is.” You quickly take the pen and scratch the right version of the word on the paper, while Johnny chuckles at your brutal honesty. He doesn’t say anything though. Some time passes and you’re already correcting other words he wrote down, explaining the right way to say them. And you can feel a pleasant warmth spread in your chest when you can see Soap’s utmost attention directed at you.

Johnny can’t help but feel that moments like these were somewhat of a way to bond for you two. He’d jokingly offer to give you some Scottish classes each time you playfully flick him on the forehead for a word he pronounced wrong. He never expected you to take him up on the offer until the five of you got stuck in a countryside safehouse and essentially had nothing to do while waiting.

On the topic of Eastern European countryside, Price is not an old man by any measure, man’s not even forty yet, but it would grow so massively on him that it’s concerning. When you finally got a good, reliable contact that gave you some useful information you had to lay low for some time in a safe house not far from one of many Makarov’s places where the next weapon deal would be held. And while you waited several days for his people to show up there, obviously almost all of you were bored out of your minds. Not Price though. The man went exploring. Of course, taking you with him (he only wanted company on his small journey through the cozy countryside, don’t blame him).

Soon enough, during your walk you two come across the abundance of berry bushes and fruit trees everywhere, and while you pick something to munch on from them constantly, Price only scolds you. You smirk in response, giving him a handful of ripe mulberries, your lips and fingers now a dark red color from the juice.  

“It’s going to rot if nobody eats it. People who plant these trees would rather someone enjoy them instead of fruits just falling on the ground, getting squished, and going to waste.” And Price takes note of that with a small smile. Soon enough the two of you find a spring the whole village uses, a willow standing tall beside it, providing shade for you two to rest, chat a bit, and cool yourself off with fresh water. The fact that there are not many people around also doesn’t miss him. It’s quiet and peaceful, Price finally feels like he has room to breathe with his whole chest.

“You know, I could get used to a life like this.” Price finally mutters, enjoying your simple, comforting presence, walking along the river shore, and hearing the distant sounds of a train passing through the village. You look at him with understanding in your eyes, as you see the tension in his shoulders finally slipping away. Your captain relaxes, which is a pleasant change of pace from the frown on his face that you got used to.  

All five of you had to live in the same apartment in an old panel building closer to the edge of town. Not the best place to live, but a good opportunity to blend in with the locals and find leads on Makarov’s criminal “friends”. More than once you’ve found yourself sitting together with Ghost on the balcony that creaked with each blow of the wind, in complete silence while he was smoking some cheap cigarettes that smelled more like burnt paper instead of tobacco.

“Can I join you?” Your voice is a quiet rasp, as you lean against the doorway, pushing the mosquito netting to the side. You couldn’t sleep. Not when the whole world will go down the drain if you fail your mission. Not when it’s been a month already and it felt like you were still right where you started.

“Knock yourself out” the man shrugs, patting the stool near him. You shuffle your bare feet on the newspapers that were laid out on the balcony floor, plopping down on the seat, your eyes immediately getting glued to the view, enjoying the breeze that seeped through the open window. You two sit in silence for so long, but it doesn’t feel awkward, quite on the contrary – weirdly calming and serene.

After that night these nightly smoke breaks became a sort of tradition for you two, a way to wind down after a long day. Ghost would nod towards the balcony, a silent invitation reserved only for you. Regardless of whether you’re a smoker or not, occasionally he would offer you a cigarette from his pack or a hit from the lit one. A gesture of camaraderie.

“Thought you’d be more talkative.” Ghost’s voice sounds gruff after the whole day working your asses off just to discover the lead that you had was absolute bullshit.

“And I thought you weren’t a type for small talk.” You grumble in return, just as annoyed about coming back to this dingy apartment with nothing.

“That I am” He lets out a low chuckle, flicking his cigarette into an ashtray in his hand, avoiding eye contact with you.  

Kyle found himself liking your cooking above everything else. The way he would eat anything thrown together in a hurry by you was quite flattering. So soon enough you offered to teach him how to make some of your favorite national dishes, and he couldn’t say no to your offer. So, you decided to start easy – picking out the fresh ingredients. And where do you go to do that? Not a grocery store, no way in hell. The market filled with tons of people is the place you need. A lot cheaper than your usual supermarket too.

The number of times you got discounts for fruits and vegetables on the market from older women just for Gaz’s pretty eyes was insane. He would just blink at you with confusion written all over his face anytime you glanced at him with that smile and refused to explain why you spent a lot less money than expected on the fresh vegetables. At some point, Gaz even questioned his ability to count before you told him just not to worry about it since you got a “very special bargain”. And, obviously, Kyle was the one carrying the plastic bags filled to the brim with fresh produce.  

“You know, your version of the dish is not half-bad,” You say, licking the spoon and giving Gaz a wide smile, which he immediately returns to you tenfold. Spending time like this with him was a pleasure. Each minute spent together made you loathe even thinking about the time when you’d have to part ways and you won’t be able to teach him your cultural cuisine like this anymore.

“Well, I have a great teacher to thank for that.” Gaz gives you a charming smile, so glad to finally have a distraction from the constant looming presence of Makarov in his thoughts. Right this moment he caught himself thinking that he was happy they had you here with them. It would be a lot harder if not for you supporting and guiding them through everything. He felt…thankful.

You’d bring the whole Task Force to different cafes that serve your country's most famous dishes, but Kyle would be the one to enjoy these outings the most, barely raising his eyes from the plate to participate in the conversation.

“Wow, are you in a hurry or something? The food won’t run away from you.” You chuckle, while Kyle ignores the odd saying coming from you and continues to eat with the huge appetite he had ever since this undercover mission started.

However, nothing lasts forever, so after finishing their business with you, getting all the information they needed, and “cleaning up the mess” Task Force 141 bids you farewell, returning to their usual duties. Saying goodbye is never easy, even if you knew each other just for several months you still got attached to them, just like they grew very fond of you (as much as some of them hated to admit that). But hey, they promised to visit you after they finish up with Makarov. They promised. And the four of them keep the promises they make.

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[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 16 all chapters

~AUTHOR'S WARNINGS: N$FW, SEXUAL CONTENT, COPIOUS SWEARING, TOXIC POSESSIVENESS , IF SOMEONE TREATS YOU LIKE THIS IN REAL LIFE RUN RUN RUN BC IT WILL NOT TURN OUT WELL U CANT FIX THEM~

-Aware that John Wick knows this city much better than you, you stick to the crowds. You manage to find your way to the Peggy Guggenheim collection, and you hang out there for hours, looking through the art works, but really only half seeing what is in front of you.

You are devastated.

You’ve had controlling boyfriends before, and it was not fun. They seem exciting at first, until the person you were before is eaten alive by their tantrums and their ridiculous expectations as they try to fit you into a box of their own making.

You can’t believe John turned out that way.

Or maybe you can. Maybe you have a fucking type, and you should have seen this coming.

You stay almost until closing, then grab a bite to eat before daring to wander the streets. You find a little walled in park, a courtyard filled with lush greenery and a tinkling fountain. By some miracle, there is only one other couple on a bench at the far end. You practically have the place to yourself, and you sit down on a wrought iron bench with a sigh and eat your sandwich.

You pull out your sketchbook afterwards to pass the time. Your doodling hand wanders, and perhaps its no surprise when you draw John Wick from memory, his proud lips and haunted eyes. There are tears running down your cheeks as you do so. When it gets too much, even though you’re in public, you hang your head and weep into your hands.

Darkness falls, and you know you should be getting back. The bench has long ceased to be comfortable, and yet it’s like you have grown into it, unable to move.

Even with your head down, when someone sits silently down beside you, you just know it’s John.

You do not look at him, and thankfully he does not try to touch you.

“It’s getting late, y/n. You shouldn’t be out here alone.”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Yes it is,” he insists, sounding almost tired about it. You hate it that your demeanor softens towards him, just a little.

“You broke my heart, Mr. Wick.”

“I was afraid I might.” He is sitting with his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped in front of him. “Would you let me make it up to you?” 

“I'm not sure that's a good idea.” 

“No?”

“No. I think you have a mean streak.” 

He had tried to warn you, you realize, in his way.

God, are you really such a fool?

“Doesn't everyone?” 

You make a sound between your teeth, and he nods like you have said something profound. 

“I'm not a nice man, y/n. But I would be good to you.”

“Like last night? I didn't like that.”

The corner of his mouth curves in a wicked smirk, and your heart skips a beat in your chest, damn him. Was the contrition all an act?

“Yes you did.”

“Not the last part.”

“Hmm. I tried to warn you.”

In the vaguest terms possible, maybe.

“My fanny.”

He raises an eyebrow to that, and you’re not sure why that little gesture wounds you like a knife to the heart all over again. Perhaps because he is beautiful, and even though you know he’s dangerous for you, you still want him so very much.  

You start to cry again, and try to get up from the bench. You need to get away from him, because you can’t think straight when he’s near.

“Y/n, wait.” He catches your wrist, and when you don’t really fight him, he pulls you down into his lap, and goddammit if this isn’t what you’d wanted all along. You feel small in his arms, cradled against his long torso and sheltered in the bend of his neck, even if in your hindbrain you know you are not actually safe at all. He strokes your hair until you quiet, and he kisses your temple like you are something precious.

How can this man be so sweet, just to turn on you?

“Why did you leave me, like that?”

You just do not understand. You could have had a lovely, fulfilling, mind-blowing if not vanilla night together. He’d laid all the groundwork like a master orchestrator, and you would have let him fuck you senseless. Fuck, you wouldn’t have even minded the tying up part, if he just hadn’t humiliated you.

“Because…” His lips ghost along the line of your jaw, and you fight not to squirm as his large hand slides up your thigh, his fingertips feather light on your skin. “Only good girls get to cum,” he says low in your ear, and you hate how it makes you ache between your legs, to hear him talk to you that way.

Outwardly, you do your best to keep your cool.

“And touching your hair made me a bad girl?”

“No.”

“Disobeying you did.”

“Yes.”

“That’s kinda fucked up.”

“Maybe.” He actually seems a little amused by you, which is not the reaction you were expecting. “I like to be in control. But you make me feel...unbalanced.”

“Me?” You sound incredulous. The thought that you could affect this powerful man in such a way seems absurd.

“Yes, you, kitten.”

The urge to demand he not call you that desiccates on your tongue. 

“So...what? You feel the need to take revenge for that?” 

“Maybe. I thought you knew the game we were playing, when you batted those big eyes up at me. Mr Wick, Sir, aren’t I a good girl?” His fingers dig into your thigh with the memory, and you can feel his growing erection beneath you. “But you’re just an innocent, aren’t you?”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“You’re used to boys just eating out of the palm of your hand. But I am a man, with a man’s appetites, and a man’s desires.”

He was a little more than that, you reckoned.

“You want to control me.”

“That’s part of it.”

“Why?”

He smirks. “Maybe I had a rough childhood.”

You can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

“I want to take care of you.” He kisses your cheek again, and it is gentle and sweet and everything you had wanted from Mr. Wick, before this all went sideways. “I want you to be mine.”

You are not proud of the way those words unleash a fluttering swarm of butterflies in your belly, your breath quickening in your chest. You are proud when you manage to answer, “I don’t need taking care of.”

He just snorts lightly at that, as if it’s not even worth arguing over. “Come back to the hotel room with me. I promise I’ll finish what I started. With interest.” His hand slowly slides up your thigh, just beneath the skirt of your sundress, and you think you might die. You should not want this man, after what he did to you.

The ache between your legs suggests otherwise.

You give yourself some points, when you shake your head.

“No. I’m going back to my hostel.”

The shift in his demeanor gives you whiplash, a thunderhead of a frown pulling his handsome features. “Need to get back to your little friend Javi?” The jealousy in his tone hot as a brand. “Did he try to kiss you again?”

Your heart drops to your feet.

“How did you know he tried to kiss me?” you ask, your voice so small.

That was in Rome, after all.

What should have been obvious before comes crashing in, and you realize what a little fool you’ve been. That feeling that someone’s been watching you, and John’s so convenient and coincidental appearance outside the alley…

“Holy shit. You’ve been following me.”

“I’ve been protecting you.”

“Excuse me?”

“You have no idea what the world is really like, sweetheart. It’s a dangerous place.”

You frown at this.

“So…you think I’m stupid?”

“No, of course not.”

“You think I can’t take care of myself then.”

“I think I found you wandering around here like a lost little lamb. There are monsters here who would have gobbled a sweet little treat like you up in one bite.”

The fact that he sees you that way is more alarming than the thought of some unnamed threat in the shadows.

For some reason it makes you think of the men in the van back home—and how that van was found empty and on fire.

“How do you know about the monsters, John?”

“I just know.”

“You said you weren’t a cop. Were you FBI?”

He glares at you, which you take as a no.

“Interpol?”

You are met with silence, and you nod, mostly to yourself.

“You know about the monsters because you are one.” You think about those fierce looking Italian men with their scars and their bespoke suits. His previous words echo in your memory. Sono retirato.

“Were you in the mob?”

“Not…specifically.”

Then you remember he’d said he was from Belarus.

“Bratva, then.”

You should be terrified as you work all this out, trapped in the circle of this man’s arms, but you feel strangely numb about it all.

“My clever girl.” He sounds almost sad about it.

“Not clever enough,” you sigh.

You are not sure who is more surprised, you or him, when you burst to your feet. You actually manage to slip out of his grasp, though you only make it three steps before he captures your wrist again with a grip like an iron manacle. He gives you a dark look, annoyed that you would even try to play this game with him.

You remember what you learned in martial arts class a lifetime ago, pointing your thumb down towards the weak point of his grip and trying to jerk free. It’s worked before, with grabby men.

Not with John Wick, though.

“Stop.” Again, there’s that steely tone. The alpha voice one uses to reprimand a naughty dog. It only makes you angrier, and you struggle.

He pulls you hard against him, and you bite his hand. He doesn’t let you go, just adjusts his grip. “I didn’t want to do it this way,” he snarls low in your ear. “But you are so fucking stubborn.”

“Thank you.” You try to headbutt him behind you, but he ducks into the bend of your shoulder. You feel his chest trembling against your back, and only belatedly do you realize he is laughing at you.

“Enjoying this?”

“A little.”

“There’s no fucking way you can get me out of here without someone seeing. Let me go.”

He just sighs into your hair, like you’ve said something extremely naïve.

The arrival of newcomers into the park catches both of your attention. You lift your head, ready to ask for help, when you recognize the besuited tough guys from before.

Well, fuck.

“You've got some balls, showing your face around here, John Wick. Gianna d’Antonio’s son sends his greetings.”

“This isn’t a good time,” he snarls in return.

“Sorry, are you too busy fighting with your little girlfriend?”

He actually releases you then, pushing you to stand behind him. They are blocking the exit, so for now, you comply.

“You know how this will go,” John says, assuming a ready stance, his feet spread. He almost sounds regretful about it. “Do yourselves a favor, and leave.”

“Can’t do it, John,” says the one in the lead.

“For fuck’s sake,” curses John under his breath. The lead Italian makes a move, and John bursts into action. He is like a tornado of carnage upon them, throwing punches and breaking arms, cutting tendons and stabbing throats.

You are absolutely frozen as you watch all this unfold before you.

That is, until one of the thugs throws a knife at John, and you watch it bury in his chest. This is the thing that breaks your spell, and you run towards the fray with a scream, though who the fuck knows what you intend to do.

However, like he wasn’t just stabbed in the heart, John takes another attacker’s gun, pistol whipping him with it before shooting the knife thrower, then the last one standing. It cannot have been more than minute, before all of them are dead at his feet. He leans on his bent knees for a moment, catching his breath.

“John?” You hardly recognize your own voice as you rush to him, certain he’s taken a lethal blow and somehow fought through it with the surge of adrenaline. However, when you peel back his suit jacket you find no blood. He lets you look him over with frantic hands, maybe enjoying the fact that you don’t wish him dead, before pulling the still protruding knife from the breast of his jacket.

When he produces the little leather journal you’d gifted him from his inside pocket, now gravely marred with a puncture through the cover, you understand.

“Holy fuck.”

“You saved my life,” he says with an odd little smile down at you, as though all this is normal and what you just saw is totally ok.

Utterly horrified, you run.

“Y/n, wait!”

You throw yourself into the dark winding streets, taking any turn you can, trying to stay out of sight. Your feet fly beneath you; even in your shitty strappy sandals, it’s the fastest you’ve ever run.

It’s not fast enough.

When strong arms close around you, lifting you from the ground, you try to scream. A big hand clamps over your mouth, and you find yourself pressed hard into a stone wall. “Please, calm down,” he pants in your ear, out of breath from killing four people then running you down.

Your answer of, “Are you fucking kidding me?” is nothing but muffled syllables.  

“Goddammit,” he sighs behind you, rifling in his pocket for something as he pins you with his body. “This is not how I wanted this to go.”

Your pitiful plea of “Let me go,” is cut off by an evil-smelling cloth shoved into your nose.

[goldengalore]

Never Alone

An anxious!reader fic.

Summary: Harry wants to meet Y/N’s family, but she is hesitant to introduce him to them and he can’t figure out why. When he discovers the reason, he’s hurt that she felt the need to hide it from him. This makes Harry question Y/N’s feelings for him, while she thinks he’s doubting her anxiety issues.

Word count: 6.8k

Warnings: anxiety, toxic family, invalidation of mental health issues, angst, mentions of sex but no actual smut

A/N: Listened to Matilda and Renegade by Big Red Machine ft. Taylor Swift a ton while writing this. Also, to anyone reading this who has ever felt invalidated about their mental health issues, I see you and I hope you know you are never ever alone ❤️

***

Harry and Y/N hadn’t been dating for very long when he introduced her to his mother, Anne, and his older sister, Gemma.

He knew that meeting them in person for the first time would be stressful for Y/N because of her social anxiety as well as her obsession with making an excellent impression on every single person in his life. So, he cleverly began easing her into it by having her pop in briefly during his usual FaceTime calls with Anne and Gemma.

It worked because when he asked her to come home with him for Christmas, she didn’t even hesitate to say yes. That didn’t mean she wasn’t nervous about it though. Between her anxiety and his excitement, they were both a ball of jitters on the ten-hour flight from LA to London.

Harry’s family fell in love with Y/N. Once she conquered her initial timidness, she fit in perfectly with them. This didn’t come as a surprise to him at all, but Y/N was completely blown away by the love and warmth that his family showered her with. She was even brought to tears from it.

After a joyous holiday with his family, Harry found himself imagining what meeting Y/N’s family would be like. To him, that was the next logical step in their relationship, and he was eagerly anticipating it. So, when they’re a whole year into their relationship and she still hasn’t introduced him to her family or expressed any intention of doing so, he can’t help but wonder what might be holding her back.

She even had the opportunity to do so when she recently visited her family for a few days. She could have taken him with her. He even offered to tag along, but she refused, claiming that her mother had come down with some nasty stomach bug, so it wouldn’t be the best time.

He can’t lie. Her refusal hurt. Although he tries not to make a big deal out of it, it eats at him over the next couple weeks, so one day, he just decides to bring it up.

For most people, it’s a lazy Sunday—the perfect opportunity to sleep in and not get out of bed until noon. Not for Harry and Y/N though. No, the two creative souls got up bright and early to use this time to write and draw. Harry sits on one couch with his guitar in his lap and his songwriting notebook next to him along with his phone, which is recording everything he plays. On the other couch is Y/N, her sketchbook perched up against her bent legs, her pencil gripped between her skillful fingers as she works on a drawing.

Harry has been staring at her for some time now while mindlessly strumming his guitar. She’s too immersed in her task to sense his gaze on her.

“Y/N?”

“Yes, baby?” she responds without looking up from her sketchbook.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Mhm?”

He pauses the recording on his phone before asking, “Why don’t you want me to meet your family?”

The question pulls her attention away from her drawing to his face. The hand holding her pencil is frozen on the paper.

“I told you,” she says softly. “It’s not that I don’t want you to meet them. I’m just... waiting for the right time.”

He cocks a brow. “The right time? Will there ever be a right time? We’ve been together for a year.” He really doesn’t want to sound pushy or demanding, but he also just wants her to know how he feels. “You and my mum are constantly sending each other cat videos. You and Gemma have inside jokes that I’m not even a part of. Meanwhile, I find myself wondering if your family even knows who I am.”

She gives him a small, slightly amused smirk. “H, they know who you are. Trust me.”

“You know what I mean,” he mumbles, looking down at his guitar. Sure, they may know him as “Harry Styles the singer” or “Harry Styles the actor,” but that’s not what matters to him. He just wants them to know him as Y/N’s boyfriend, that’s all.

“They know that we’re in a relationship,” she confirms.

He waits for her to elaborate, but she doesn’t. “Okay... And? How do they feel about that? Do they ask about me? Do they even want to meet me?”

She averts her gaze, her pencil moving across the page again. “They ask about you every time I see them.”

“Then what’s holding you back?” he inquires gently.

Her response is so delayed that he wonders if he’s even going to get one. “I’ll talk to them,” she says after a minute. “We’ll arrange a time for you and me to go see them together.”

His eyebrows lift up in surprise. “Really?”

She nods. “Yeah. If you really want to meet them, I’ll try to make it happen.”

He doesn’t know what to say at first. He didn’t expect her to concede so quickly. “Thank you, lovie,” he says once the words finally come to him.

She just gives him a brief smile and returns to her drawing, making a few more pencil strokes before asking, “Wanna see what I drew?”

“Always.”

She tries to bite back an excited grin as she turns her sketchbook around to show him. He shifts the guitar in his lap and leans forward to take a look. He instantly recognizes himself in the sketch. It’s him sitting as he is now, on the couch with his guitar. Every detail of his facial features is intricately depicted from the focused furrow of his brow to the shape of his nose to the stubble on his jaw.

He stares at it in awe. “That looks amazing.”

“Thanks!”

He tears his gaze away from the sketch and looks at her. “You were drawing me this whole time? I thought you were brainstorming ideas for your next piece.”

“I was, but you just looked so cute sitting there with your guitar. I mean, you were practically begging to be drawn.” She shoots him a flirtatious grin.

“Mhm. Right.” He shakes his head at her, smiling. “Can I keep it?”

“Of course.” She carefully rips the page out of her book and hands it over to him.

“Another one for the collection,” he states happily, referring to his growing collection of sketches that she’s drawn of him over the past year. In the beginning, she used to hide them from him. Then one day, he stumbled upon her sketchbook sitting on the dining table, opened up to a page containing a flawless illustration of his Vogue magazine cover, and he was astounded. Y/N’s whole face flushed red when she found him staring at it, but he was quick to reassure her that he liked it and asked if he could keep it.

“I don’t mind, you know. That you like drawing me,” he told her that day. “It’s a compliment, if anything, and it’s no different than me writing songs about you.”

Her face brightened at his revelation. “You write songs about me?”

“All the time.”

Ever since that conversation, she no longer hesitates to show him these drawings and he makes sure to keep each one in a safe place.

“I still can’t believe you’ve been saving them all,” she says now. “You really haven’t thrown a single one away?”

“I could never.”

***

A whole week passes by, and it’s like their conversation about arranging a time to meet Y/N’s family never even happened because she doesn’t bring it up again. Harry starts to wonder if she only said that to appease him for a while and stop him from asking. That annoys him. It would be one thing to tell him that she doesn’t want him to meet her family; it’s another to make false promises just to shut him up.

He wishes he could drop it. But he can’t. Especially now that he is almost certain that she’s hiding something from him.

She has a meeting today with the owner of an esteemed art gallery in LA, who offered her the opportunity to hold her first solo art exhibition. She has spent the last couple months preparing for the exhibition, which is less than two weeks away. Her best friend and business partner, Rosie, will be accompanying her to the meeting. Rosie shows up at Harry’s house around 10:30 that morning.

“Y/N’s upstairs, still getting ready,” he tells her after inviting her in. “Should be down soon though.”

“I’m surprised I’m ready before her for once. That’s quite the accomplishment for me.”

“Yeah, I, um—” He releases a sheepish laugh, touching his fingers to his lips. “I may have made her a bit late getting out of bed this morning.”

Rosie opens her mouth to say something, then closes it. He raises his brows at her expectantly, but she waves a dismissive hand and says, “Oh, I was just going to ask what you two were up to, but then I answered my own question.”

A coy grin tugs at the corners of his lips, as the memories of his sensual morning with Y/N play back in his mind.

He and Rosie take a seat in the living room. He offers her something to eat or drink while they wait, but she politely declines. That’s when the thought occurs to him. If there is anyone who knows Y/N better than him, it would be her best friend, who has known her for the majority of her adult life. Surely, if Y/N is hiding something from him, Rosie could be the key to helping him figure out what and why.

“Hey, this might be a random question, but have you ever met Y/N’s family?” he asks.

“Yeah, a few times.”

“What are they like?”

Her hazel eyes narrow slightly. “Why do you ask?”

He leans forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. “Don’t you think it’s a bit strange that Y/N and I have been together for a year and she still hasn’t introduced me to her family?”

Rosie hesitates. She glances over her shoulder at the stairs before answering quietly, “Look, let’s just say... Her family isn’t very supportive of her.”

His heart sinks. “Shit. Really?”

She nods. “They’re like the type of people who think mental health problems aren’t real problems or that tough love can fix everything, including anxiety.”

He winces.

“Yeah…”

“Well, that explains a lot,” he says, referring not only to Y/N’s reluctance to introduce him to her family but also her emotional reaction to his family accepting her with open arms. “Why didn’t she just tell me that? I would’ve understood.”

“You know how Y/N is. She keeps a lot to herself, and she doesn’t even do it on purpose most of the time.”

“I know, but...” He shrugs. “I just thought we’d reached that stage in our relationship where we could tell each other anything. At least that’s how I feel when I’m with her.”

She had so many chances to tell him the truth about her family. Even if she didn’t want to get into the nitty-gritty details of it, all she had to do was tell him that they’re not nice people for him to drop the topic altogether. He feels guilty now for bringing up her family so much, but she never gave him any indication that they were bad people. Even when she went to visit them recently, it didn’t seem like she was dreading it. So, how was Harry supposed to know? How can he possibly know anything about her if she refuses to open up to him?

They hear her footsteps rapidly descending the stairs now.

“I’m ready!” she shouts.

Her outfit for the meeting is sleek and professional—a teal blouse loosely tucked into a pair of slim, high-waisted black trousers. Harry helped her pick it out this morning when she was struggling to decide between a few different options.

“How late are we?” she asks breathlessly at the bottom of the stairs.

Rosie checks her phone. “Not that late. We can still get there with five minutes to spare.”

As Rosie heads to the door, Y/N walks over to Harry to kiss him goodbye.

“Bye, baby. I’ll see you later,” she says.

He squeezes her hand. “Best of luck with the meeting. Remember to breathe.”

“I’ll try!”

And then she’s off.

***

Sometimes, Y/N can’t tell if someone is actually behaving differently around her or if her anxiety is causing her to see things that aren’t there. There have been instances where she thought someone was acting off around her and became convinced that they were upset with her only to find out that they were just having a bad day and it had nothing to do with her at all.

She wonders if this might be the case with Harry. He has been acting strange the past few days. The shift in behaviour is subtle. A kiss that ends a moment too soon, a smile that doesn’t quite reach the eyes, a laugh that feels just a little bit forced. Most people wouldn’t take notice. But the thing about anxiety is that it forces you to notice everything. It’s as if the brain is in a constant state of hypervigilance, scanning its environment for the slightest sign of a threat.

Harry has been at the studio all day. She saw him briefly around seven o’clock this morning when her eyes fluttered open to find him all showered and dressed for the day, grabbing his phone off the nightstand.

“Heading to the studio. Love you,” he told her, planting a hasty kiss to her forehead before leaving.

She couldn’t fall back asleep after that, so she decided to start her day too and put some finishing touches on the drawings for her upcoming exhibit. However, her overthinking mind made it impossible to focus. She ultimately decided to take her drawings over to her apartment and work there instead.

Over the past six months, she has practically lived at Harry’s house with how much time she spends there. But her apartment has always been there in case she needs some time alone or, like today, she just needs a change of scenery to sharpen her focus.

It didn’t occur to her at any point to text Harry and let him know where he can find her after he finishes up at the studio. Or perhaps, her subconscious made her withhold that information on purpose to see if he would even notice or care for her absence.

Late that evening, she receives a call from him.

“Hey, where’d you go?” he asks when she picks up.

“Oh, I’m at my apartment. Couldn’t focus today, so I thought I’d try working here instead.”

“Hm. Wish you’d told me. I would’ve headed straight there from the studio.”

“Sorry,” she mumbles in response.

“It’s all right. Be there in a few.”

“Okay. See you soon.”

A nervousness seeps through her after their call. A kind of nervousness she hasn’t felt since the very early days of their relationship when she wasn’t quite comfortable around him yet. She doesn’t like this feeling and tries to distract herself by cleaning up the kitchen where she just finished having dinner not too long ago.

Harry has a spare key to her apartment, just like she has one to his house, so when she hears it turn in the lock, she knows it’s him. Her heart is in her throat.

She’s washing her hands in the kitchen sink when the door opens.

“Hi, my love,” he greets her. He’s wearing her merch today. Well, technically, it’s his merch that she helped design. Their merch, as he would call it.

“Hey,” she replies. As she wipes her hands on the towel by the sink, he walks up behind her and slides his arms around her waist, burying his face in her hair. She turns around to face him. “How was your day?” For some reason, the question comes out sounding awkward, at least in her head, but Harry seems unfazed.

“Productive. We wrote so much today. Song after song. I couldn’t believe it. Tyler suggested we pull an all-nighter, but everyone was tired, so we decided to go home…” A dimpled smile emerges on his face as he adds, “And I wanted to see you, so…”

He plants a sweet, lingering kiss to her lips. She should feel the stress dissipating from her body. She should feel a sense of calm washing over her like cool ocean waves on a hot summer day. But none of that happens.

His hand sneaks under her shirt, squeezing her bare waist before wandering upward to her breast.

“Sorry,” she says, pulling away suddenly. “I, um, I’m not in the mood tonight.”

He blinks a few times, thrown for a moment. “Oh. Okay. No worries.” He takes a step back and scratches the back of his neck, eyes searching her face. “Everything okay?”

She doesn’t meet his gaze. “Yeah, I think I’m just starting my period soon, so you know…”

“Ah. Well, maybe we can just cuddle then. If you’re in the mood for that.”

“Mhm.”

They lay on her plush black couch together, her head on his shoulder, his fingers running through the lengths of her hair. He’s humming some unknown melody—probably a new song he’s been working on. She feels her heartbeat slowing down, finally.

Then he says, “Hey, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”

Her heart picks up again. This is it. This is what she’s been dreading. She has no idea what he’s about to say, but of course, her mind jumps to the worst case scenario.

“Yeah?” she says, trying to keep her voice level.

“It’s about something Rosie told me.”

She frowns. “Something Rosie told you? What would that be?”

“She told me about your family, how they… they’re not supportive of you and your struggles.”

Her frown deepens. “She told you that?” She sits up now. “Why would she do that? She has no right to be sharing that kind of information about me.”

He sits up too, confusion taking hold of his features. “It’s not like she shared it with some stranger, lovie. I’m your boyfriend. Why is it so bad that she told me?”

“Because I didn’t want…” She trails off.

“You didn’t want me to know?”

She wordlessly looks down in her lap.

“Why?” he asks, the hurt apparent in his voice.

Forcing herself to look at him, she answers, “I didn’t want to disappoint you. You seemed so excited to meet them, and you bring them up all the time—”

“Yeah, that was when I knew nothing about them. If I’d known how they’d treated you, why the fuck would I want to meet them?” He runs a hand through his hair, clutching the ends briefly before letting go. “And I brought them up all the time because you were always so bloody vague about the topic. What was I— What was I meant to think? I’m not a mind-reader, Y/N.”

“I know. I know you’re not a mind-reader.” She tries to reach out to him, but he doesn’t seem to notice her outstretched hand as he turns away, so she lets it fall on the couch.

“Well, sometimes I feel like you expect me to be one because you never tell me how you really feel or what you’re really thinking, and I’m left to figure it out on my own.”

“Okay, that’s not true.” She shakes her head, growing a bit defensive now. “I know I used to be like that in the beginning, but you can’t tell me I haven’t gotten better since then because I have. You’re just angry right now and I—I can understa—”

“I’m not angry,” he insists, though he sounds pretty close to it, and it’s making her panic because although she has seen him get angry before, it’s never been at her.

His eyes fall shut for a moment. He seems to compose himself before continuing calmly, “I’m just frustrated because I feel like I’ve told you everything about me, I’ve bared my entire fucking soul to you, and I know it’s not as easy for you to do the same, but it’s not like it’s a walk in the park for me either. You say that it’s your anxiety that keeps you from opening up to me, but at this point, I can’t help but wonder if you just don’t feel as strongly about me as I feel about you.”

She flinches at the last part, a sense of betrayal settling like rocks in her stomach. “Y—you think I use my anxiety as an excuse?”

“That is not what I said.”

“That’s what you implied.”

“No,” he stresses, clenching his jaw. “You’re purposely misunderstanding me.”

“Why are you here, Harry?”

Puzzled green eyes stare back at her. “What?”

“This has clearly been on your mind for some time now. If you really think that I don’t feel strongly about you, that my anxiety is just some cover-up, then why are you still wasting your time with me?” Her heart thuds wildly in her chest as she spouts, “Is it just for the sex? Is that it? I mean, that’s why you came here tonight, right? Just for a quick fuck. And when you couldn’t have that, you decided to pick a fight with me.”

It was mean. Quite possibly—no, definitely—the meanest thing she has ever said to or about him. And it was undeserved. And she regrets the words as soon as they leave her mouth.

The expression on his face switches from disbelief to disgust to pure pain in a matter of seconds.

“Yeah,” he says, swallowing thickly. “You’re right. That’s what I’m here for, Y/N. Just a quick fuck. Because I’m some lowlife prick that would use you for sex and get mad when I can’t have it. You figured it out. Amazing job.” He claps his hands and stands up, taking long strides to the door.

“Wh—where are you going?” she stammers.

He ignores her and shoves his socked feet into his Vans. On shaky legs, she hurries over to him.

“H, where are you going?”

As his left hand reaches for the doorknob, she grabs his other one.

“No, wait, don’t go.”

“No, you’ve made it clear to me the kind of person you think I am. Thanks for your honesty, Y/N.” He speaks without looking at her. She can only see his side profile, but it’s enough to catch the tears forming in his eyes.

He tries to pull his hand away, but she squeezes it tighter, pleading with him, “I didn’t mean it. Please don’t go. Baby, please—”

“I’m tired, Y/N,” he sighs out, sounding utterly exhausted. “I just want to go home.”

He manages to yank his hand free from her grasp and leaves the apartment, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Y/N stands there, staring at it for the longest time, before making her way back to the couch in a daze.

She doesn’t know why she said it. He was just trying to explain his inner thoughts and feelings, not attacking her, but her brain latched onto that one comment about her anxiety and blew it way out of proportion. It struck a nerve somewhere inside her, reopening old wounds created by people in her past who invalidated her struggles.

But Harry is nothing like those people. No, he is a far cry from them. No one has shown her the level of kindness and understanding that he has, and she fears that no one else ever will, which makes the thought of losing him catastrophically more painful.

She lies down on her side on the couch, curling her legs into herself as the first sob of many escapes her body.

***

The big day has arrived.

Y/N’s very first solo art exhibition that she’s been working her ass off on for the past few months takes place tonight. The gallery that offered to display her work made an agreement with her to donate a portion of the profits to a local mental health charity—something that Y/N has always wanted to do. She’s always dreamed of using her art to give back to causes that matter to her, and she is finally at the stage where she can do that.

Her art career has taken off this past year. She was doing well before, but this year has catapulted her career to heights she couldn’t have imagined. She knows Harry has a lot to do with it, since the limited edition merch she designed for him attracted millions of new eyes to her work, not to mention the fact that she started dating him afterwards, which further piqued people’s curiosity about her as a person and an artist. But Harry, being the humble man he is, argues that it’s her talent that keeps bringing people back to her work, not him.

Whether he admits it or not, Harry has changed her life in more ways than one. Even if he never speaks to her again, she will be thanking him for the rest of her life.

Over the past week, she has typed a hundred different apologies to him, deleting each one without sending it, convincing herself that it’s not good enough, that he doesn’t want to hear from her, that he probably hates her guts.

She has missed him all week, but tonight, that feeling cements itself deep inside her chest, mixing perilously with the fear of having to talk about her art with strangers. It would’ve helped to have Rosie here at least, but her fiancé’s mother was in the hospital after a medical emergency and she needed to be there for them.

Y/N feels incredibly alone.

The people working at the gallery have been lovely. She hardly had to do anything at all because they took care of the entire setup. Now, they’re preparing the refreshments table, and just the mere sight of all that food is making her nauseous.

As hard as she tries to keep her shit together, she crumbles and bolts towards the exit. One of the gallery workers tries to inform her that the exhibit is about to start, but she barely hears him through her heart pounding in her ears. Once outside, she starts walking down the sidewalk in a random direction and finds an opening between two buildings where she can take a moment to herself, away from other people.

The fresh air entering her lungs is somewhat soothing, so she tries to focus on that, leaning a hand against one of the buildings.

“Y/N?” says a deep, familiar voice from behind her.

It can’t be, she thinks to herself, but when she turns around, there he is. Standing on the sidewalk. Dressed in dark, indiscriminate clothing and a hat, which casts a shadow over most of his handsome features. He’s wearing his Gucci square-framed glasses that make him look like a college student.

“Harry? What are you doing here?”

He steps towards her, pushing his glasses up his nose. “I was sat in the cafe across the street, waiting for your exhibit to start. Saw you run out. Are you okay?”

Instead of answering his question, she asks in a weak voice, “You came to see my exhibit?”

“Of course I did,” he says, as if the concept of him missing it is unfathomable. He places his hands on his hips and adds with a faint smirk, “You think I, your number one fan, would miss out on your first solo exhibit? C’mon.”

Tears flood Y/N’s eyes, blurring her vision.

Harry’s face falls. “Oh no. Don’t cry, lovie.”

The tears streak down her cheeks now, ruining the makeup she spent so long on applying tonight. “I thought you hated me.”

He reaches towards her and delicately places his hands on her arms. “I could never hate you.”

“But you should! You should hate me because you’ve been nothing but patient and understanding with me and I treated you like shit in return and I hate myself for it and I’m so sorry—”

“It’s okay—”

“No, it’s not!”

“Shh, come here.” He pulls her into his arms, cradling her head against his chest, holding her there until she calms down. Then he draws back and lifts her chin to make her look at him. “Listen to me. I did not come here to make you cry and ruin your big night, okay? I came here to support you. Now you’re going to put on that beautiful smile of yours and you’re going to go back in there and you’re going to put on this wonderful exhibit—”

“I don’t think I can.” She shakes her head.

“Yes, you can. You’ve worked so hard for this, my love. You deserve this. Don’t let your fear tell you otherwise.”

She sniffles, thinking for a moment. “You’re going to be there?”

“Yes. The whole time,” he reassures her. “I promise to be discreet though. I’m not about to steal the spotlight from you.”

“I wouldn’t mind even if you did, to be honest.”

“See, that’s the fear talking.” He pokes her softly in the chest. “This is your night and your night only.”

A part of her wishes he would just pull her back into his arms and let her stay there forever, safe and warm and comfortable. But he’s right. She has worked too hard and come too far to allow fear to stifle her now.

“Okay,” she says finally. “Okay, I’m going to go back in.”

He smiles widely. “That’s my girl.” He kisses her and sends her off with a few more encouraging words.

For the first fifteen minutes of the exhibit, as the first batch of visitors trickle into the gallery, the voice in Y/N’s head is screaming at her to run out the nearest exit and not look back. It takes everything in her to keep her feet planted where she is and withstand the racing heart and the churning stomach and the sweaty palms.

It isn’t until people start coming up to her to ask questions about her art that she begins to feel any semblance of calm, which is surprising, considering that this is the part she was most afraid of. Once she gets into artist mode, articulating her artistic ideas and techniques in front of these strangers comes naturally.

She spots Harry every now and then, wandering around the gallery with everyone else, blending in remarkably well in his dark clothes and hat and glasses. At one point, while she’s talking to someone, she sees Harry in the distance, holding up his phone with the camera aimed at her. He winks when he catches her eye.

By the last half hour of the exhibit, Y/N’s throat is dry and hoarse from talking so much. She can’t believe how many people were interested in discussing her work with her.

While she’s taking a break to have some water, she hears someone shout, “There she is!”

She turns to find Jeff and Glenne walking towards her, smiling and waving like proud parents.

“So sorry we’re late,” says Glenne. “Traffic was a nightmare.”

Y/N shakes her head. “No, it’s totally fine. I didn’t even know you were coming.”

“Are you kidding?” says Jeff. “We’ve been looking forward to this.”

Y/N told them about the exhibit when she and Harry invited them over for dinner last month. She didn’t expect them to remember. The fact that they did means everything.

“We were going to buy something, but it looks like everything’s sold out, huh?” says Jeff, looking around.

“Oh, we’re so coming early for the next one,” says Glenne.

Y/N smiles at the determination in her voice. “Thank you for coming. You guys have no idea how much it means to me.”

Her heart is so full. Whereas the night started with her feeling petrified and alone, she now feels more loved and supported than ever. To say that the exhibit was a success is an understatement, and having Harry, Jeff, and Glenne all there for her was the cherry on top because success tastes so much sweeter when you have people to share it with.

***

Harry is bursting with pride. Watching Y/N put on this exhibit tonight has been quite a treat. She has blossomed from someone who used to not think very highly of her artistic capabilities into a self-assured artist right before his eyes, and he has loved being able to witness her growth.

Now they’re at his house, having Thai food, and Y/N, who hasn’t eaten all day due to nerves, is devouring everything so quickly that he worries he might not have ordered enough food for them. Luckily, that doesn’t end up being the case.

Afterwards, as they’re placing their dishes in the sink, Y/N tells him, “I saw you sneaking pictures of me at the exhibit. Like a little fanboy.”

He laughs. “I hope you don’t mind. You just looked so in your element.”

She bites her lip. “Can I see them?”

“Sure.” He takes his phone out of his pocket and opens up his camera roll. He places it on the counter so they can both look together.

Each photo shows Y/N talking to people who came to see her work, her hands poised in the air as she describes her creative process or her inspiration behind a specific piece.

“You look so confident,” he comments. “And happy.” He looks up at her from his phone and nudges her softly with his arm. “I’m proud of you.”

For a second, it seems like she’s about to break down into tears again but then contains herself.

“I really don’t deserve you,” she says.

He gives her a gentle look, knowing that she’s referring to the hurtful words she fired at him that night in her apartment. The words that burrowed deep under his skin for a few days until he gained some clarity and realized that she’d only said them because she felt attacked, that she didn’t actually believe them. Of course, that didn’t make it okay, but it did soften him towards her a little. And knowing Y/N, he could safely assume that she was far angrier at herself than he was at her.

“Y/N, I know you didn’t mean what you said. I mean, it still fucking hurt, but I know they were just words said in the heat of the moment… Right?”

“Yes,” she replies without hesitation. “And I’m so sorry, not just about what I said that night, but also what I didn’t say about my family, for hiding that from you.”

“No, I never should’ve pushed you to tell me in the first place.”

“But you never pushed me, Harry.” She turns her body towards him fully, leaning against the counter. “You just asked because you were curious about that part of my life, the same way I was curious about your family before I met them. It’s just that my family is… They’re nothing like yours. It’s not like they’re terrible people. They’re just not warm or affectionate, and they see any display of emotion as a sign of weakness.”

He quirks a brow. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, lovie, but they sound like robots.”

“You’re not far off,” she replies with a shrug. “They have this toughness, this stoic resolve that I used to envy when I was younger, until I realized that I didn’t want to be like that at all. As a child though, when your whole family is like that and you’re the anxious one who can’t get your emotions under control, it’s hard to feel normal. My parents didn’t know how to handle my anxiety, so they tried to mold me into them, and when that didn’t work, they just started denying my feelings altogether. Every time I would try to talk about my feelings, they would shut me down, tell me to suck it up and toughen up and stop being so goddamn sensitive.”

Hearing that makes Harry’s chest ache. Y/N is a sensitive person, sure, but he never viewed that as a shortcoming. In fact, it’s one of the many things that drew him to her because he is the same way. His sensitivity has allowed him to be more empathetic in his relationships and more vulnerable in his music—qualities that he also noticed in Y/N.

“I got tired of trying to explain it to them,” she continues, “so I left and tried to make something out of my art career. And God, my parents hated that. They were never the creative types; they thought anything related to art was a waste of time. They kept telling me I was wasting my potential to be something bigger, something better than an artist. And at one point, I started believing them, but then I met people like Rosie, who weren’t emotionless robots and who actually appreciated art for what it is.

“And I made a life for myself out here, pouring my heart and soul into my art, and I’ve tried so hard to keep this new, amazing part of my life separate from that part because I don’t want them to ruin this for me.”

“That’s why you didn’t want me to meet them?” he asks gently.

“Well, that and the fact that they’re convinced that you’re just some hotshot superstar stringing me along while sleeping with ten other girls at the same time because they don’t see how someone like you could ever fall in love with someone like me. And they make sure to remind me of that every time I go see them, which is just so fun,” she says sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

Harry doesn’t really care that her parents see him as some pompous asshole obsessed with sex. What does bother him, however, is that they try to make Y/N feel like she somehow doesn’t meet his standards, that she isn’t good enough for him because that couldn’t be further from the truth.

“How come you still visit them?” he asks. “Not judging, just curious.” If it were up to him, he would never let them see her again.

She sighs. “I don’t know. I guess I always felt obligated to? I felt like they did care about me, even if they sucked at showing it. But the older I get and especially this past year, I feel less obligated to put up with their shit. I’ll probably keep visiting for now, just not as often anymore.”

“You don’t have to deal with them alone, you know.” He takes her hand in his. “I’m more than willing to go along for moral support.”

“That’s really sweet, but… It’s hard enough hearing them say disrespectful things about you when you’re not there. If you were there, I think I might start throwing hands.”

He chuckles. The idea of his dear sweet Y/N, who couldn’t hurt a fly, threatening to fight her family for disrespecting him makes him melt inside.

“Okay, well, I understand if you’d prefer to go on your own,” he says. “My offer still stands though, if you change your mind.”

She smiles. “Thank you. I appreciate that. And I promise to be more open and honest with you moving forward. I really am trying.”

“I know you are.” He looks down at their hands, rubbing his thumb over the back of hers. “Can’t be easy when you were told to bury your feelings down all through your childhood.”

“Yeah…”

When he looks up from their hands, he finds a peculiar look on her face, her eyes tender and almost hypnotic as they stare back at him.

He frowns slightly. “What?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing. Just feeling extra lucky tonight.”

“Oh.” He smiles, nearly blushing under her intense gaze. “Sooo, when’s the next exhibit? Because I have some suggestions.”

Her brows lift up curiously. “Suggestions?”

“Yeah, mostly for the refreshments table. I feel it was a bit lacking.”

She gasps. “Not the refreshments table! I worked so hard on that!”

“Hm, well, clearly not hard enough.”

She pouts. He chuckles and pinches her bottom lip before leaning in for a kiss, stopping just by her lips.

“I love you so much,” he whispers.

“Love you more.” She completes the kiss.

***

Thank you for reading! For more anxious!reader and other fics, check out my MASTERLIST

[gingerjunhan]

boyfriend headcannons - han hyeongjun

☆彡 EEEEEEKK it’s Jun Han time! :D 🩷

word count: 690 | pronouns used: none | genre: fluff, established relationship | cws: YouTube like is safe!!, all caps, (Hyeongjun’s) insecurities mentioned, eating mentioned, I love him, not proofread, lmk if I missed something

← previous member | next member →

obviously, I have a lot to say

here we go

first things first, Hyeongjun shows you how he loves you instead of telling you

there was some radio interview they did one time where the other members said he doesn’t say “I love you much”

so he makes sure to physically show his appreciation for you

what’s that? you were stressed from your workload? Hyeongjun made you dinner and cleaned up your place while you were out

you’re feeling nervous about a big job interview? he got you flowers to wish you good luck

stuff like that

I also feel like someone somewhere said that Hyeongjun is really good with dates?

idk maybe I’m gaslighting myself into thinking that

but he never never forgets anything!

birthdays, anniversaries, important events- he’s there

I also think a lot about the one Knock Down Debate that they did where Hyeongjun yelled at the others because they never pick up their phones when he calls them

so hey, at least he’s good at communication in that aspect

I don’t think Hyeongjun is one for pet names

I literally cannot picture him calling someone a pet name, but I could easily be wrong

if he did I feel like they would be simple

“honey”

“love”

“sweetie”

short and sweet stuff

he gets flustered easily if you call him something though!

I feel like it would be really easy to fluster him

STOOOPP imagine Hyeongjun meeting your pets

forget about your family- let this man meet your cat

okay but fr this man is sweating buckets meeting your family

he’s afraid that they would think he’s too quiet or too boring :(

but once they get to know him and once he warms up to them that’s obviously not true!

I mean, come on, look at the way that man can shred on the guitar. there is not a boring bone in his body

he’s a kiss on the cheek typa guy

no big fancy gestures

just something cute, simple, and sweet

he actually doesn’t strike me as a big gesture guy at all?

no wait let me explain

let me cook

not big on PDA, not the best with words, and he wouldn’t feel like his acts of kindness are very big

like, he let you hold on to kkito while he was away for a few days so you wouldn’t miss him- why are you crying?

ugh I wanna squeeze him :(

he will come to you with any sort of problem no matter how big or how small

he trusts you completely

he would literally be your friend first and your boyfriend second

Hyeongjun strikes me as the type to not need affection much, but when he does he’s a little nervous to ask

“Jun, what’s wrong?”

“I need a hug.” :(

you almost don’t hear him but y’all are so close that you can figure it out

you can basically read his mind

I feel like a relationship with Hyeongjun would go slow, and that’s okay!

why mess with perfection 😉

no need to rush first kisses or first I love yous

you’re just having fun together!

HE MAKES A PLAYLIST OF SONGS THAT REMIND HIM OF YOU 😭😭😭😭

“This song played in the restaurant during our first date.”

“This song was stuck in my head right before you kissed me for the first time.”

“This song was-“ STOP IT I can’t do this anymore

ALWAYS makes sure you’re taking care of yourself

making sure you eat meals and get enough rest

he’s so open minded!

I feel like he has strong opinions, but he’s chill with most things?

those two things literally cancel out but whatever

he buys clothes that he also thinks you would like in case you want to steal them 😼

pays very close attention to detail!

no new haircut or nail color goes unnoticed!

he draws little pictures of you in his sketchbook all the time :(

loving Hyeongjun is gentle, calm, and fun- like sitting in the grass on a sunny day

no pressure, no rush, just you two having fun being together 🩷

god I love him so much

taglist: @dazzlingligth , @mini-mews , @mxlly143 , @somethingaboutcheese , comment to be added!⁎⁺˳✧༚

[lunaroserites]

Art and Ice - Nicknames

Pairing: Eventual Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Characters: Natasha, Wanda, Pietro, Loki, Bucky, Sam Wilson, Clint Barton, a lot of the avengers cast is mentioned.

Summery: Bucky and MC meet officially for the first time!

This might a 2 or 3 parter (it's gonna be more because cannot help myself). College AU, our boy Bucky is on the hockey team, and reader is an art major (because I love that trope and couldn't help myself)

Warnings: Not beta'd! All mistakes are my own. Friends fluff, swearing I think, mentions of college students being college students. Bit of friendly harmless flirting between friends. Derogatory use of the word puck bunny. Bucky is a playboy. Mention of drugs (No use, just a couple comments). Fighting, and mentions of attempted drugging at a party.

Word Court: 2957

Likes, reblogs, comments are appreciated!

Please do not repost, translate or otherwise copy my work elsewhere, without my express permission, thank you! Lunaroserites on tumblr and ao3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

“I can’t do this,” You groaned looking down at the few sketches you’ve managed to produce since you refused to step foot back into the hockey arena again. You could feel the pit you were falling into already growing, and it was all because of a certain fluffy haired, sea-blue eyed hockey player.  

“You can do this and you will do this darling,” Loki drawled out as he spoke with a hint of annoyance. He was laying down with his leg dangled off the side of the fountain in the student commons, an open area full of windows and natural light. His other leg was propped up and bent at the knee which you were using as a back rest. You side eyed him begrudgingly. 

“This is awful,” you leaned your head back against his knee. 

“Well don’t look now, but awful just entered the commons,” you followed Loki’s gaze and noticed Barnes and a couple of the other players entering the area. A couple girls were making their way over to them as they placed their bags down and sat at a bar table. Barnes' eyes swept the commons and caught your gaze, he stopped and squinted and you looked down instantly. 

He nudged Wilson with his elbow, who made an annoyed noise, “what Bucky?” Bucky tipped his chin in your direction, Wilson’s eyes followed and he stared for a couple seconds. “Wait, is that the girl from the rink?” Bucky nodded, thinking the same thing. He couldn’t get your eyes out of his head, they were so expressive from the few glimpses he had of them. “She’s hanging out with Odinson’s brother,” the younger Odinson was usually present at the parties his brother threw but rarely participated in anything. Usually hiding away in a corner or in his room reading.

“I think so,” Bucky stood and threw his bag over his shoulder. 

“Where are you going?” Wilson hissed. 

“To say hello,” Bucky gave him his dazzling smile. 

Loki noticed Barnes coming toward you two before you did, your head was down as you focused on the drawing you were working on, “trouble is heading our direction,” Loki said lowly, you looked up without lifting your head and saw Barnes striding in your direction. You swallowed thickly and kept your head down, he might just be walking in this direction for another reason. He couldn’t pick you out in a crowd, impossible, he only saw you twice. 

“Excuse me,” your dreams were dashed as you saw the toes of his shoes and his frame created a shadow over your sketchbook. “I couldn’t help but notice you were at the rink a week ago,” he said, “and I know every pretty girl that hangs out there, can’t say I know you,” he said with an air of arrogance. You scoffed at him, side eyeing Loki who had his book covering his mouth, but you could feel the slight tremble from his contained amusement. 

“I think you’re mistaken,” you said in a hushed tone. 

“I don’t think so, you have the same hair and,” his hand snatched the sketch book from you. “Sketch book,” you jumped startled at the sudden invasion of privacy. 

“Hey give that back,” you snapped harshly. Reaching to take the book back, he kept it from your reach easily. You stood now and pushed his outstretched hand out of the way to grab the book from his other hand. Your chest pressed up against his as you reached desperately for the sketchbook. “I said give it back.”

“Ah baby, don’t be like that,” your nose scrunched up and you narrowed your eyes at him, he had a playful expression on his face and his eyes were gleaming with mischief as he gazed down at you. 

“I’m not your baby,” you said sternly. “And give me my sketchbook back please, now.” You seethed. His eyes flicked to you for a moment before flicking to the open drawing. 

“You know that certainly looks like me, I know I have admirers. But no one has ever drawn me,” he mused as he continued to keep the book from your grasp. You looked at Loki who was already sitting up and standing. 

“Give it back to her Barnes,” Loki's tone was tense, and stern. “She asked you nicely.” 

Barnes' eyes snapped from the book to Loki in an instant and he turned to fully face Loki. They stood at the same height, but Barnes was stockier. “What are you gonna do about it Odinson,” Barnes taunted. 

“Don’t be a child. You wouldn’t want to cause a scene,” Loki said in a tone with underlying intent. “You don’t need the coach to hear about another incident,” Loki said knowingly. You watched the tense exchange between the two men with wide eyes, the tension palpable. A few more tense seconds and Barnes relented, lifting his hands up in mock surrender. 

“Whatever prick,” Barnes spat at Loki. “You ever want to have some real fun, you know where to find me sugar” he winked  and handed the sketch book to Loki and looked at you once more, his eyes roving over your body. Your eyes widened at his choice of words, taken slightly back by how hostile he became when Loki intervened. 

Loki handed you back your sketchbook before putting a hand on your back and leading you the opposite direction of Barnes, you looked over your shoulder quickly before picking up the pace to match Loki. 

Once sufficiently far away from the commons you stopped and looked up at Loki. 

“What was that?” You asked. You know Loki knew Bucky, hell you’d seen him at Thor’s parties before. Usually you would be in Loki's room with him when you attended them, disliking them as much as he did. 

“Barnes being Barnes,” Loki said with a slightly annoyed tone. “He’s got a rap sheet. One more complaint or misbehavior and he’s benched for the rest of the season,” Loki stated. “That doesn’t look great for an NHL prospect.” You nodded as you listened to him speak. 

“Thank you,” you said softly as you hugged your sketch pad to your chest. 

“It’s no problem darling,” he said back sweetly. “Now, you need to get back to the rink and get your project together.” You huffed and groaned. 

“You had to ruin it,” you whined and threw your head back. “I’ll go with Nat to the next practice,” you relented and stared up at Loki. 

Loki smiled and patted the top of your head “perfect darling.” You glared at him for a moment before shaking your head.

~The next day~

You sighed as Nat dragged you to the rink, making sure you had the appropriate clothing on this time so you couldn’t duck out randomly. 

“This is the worst,” you groaned as you sunk into the hard plastic seats and covered your face with your hands. 

“Stop whining, it’s fine,” Nat sat next to you and smiled at Clint who skated up to the glass. He waved at her and you before skating backwards, showing off. Nat was like a giggly school girl as she watched him. You rolled your eyes and smirked at her. 

You propped your sketch pad on the arm of the seat and hunched over to draw. Your eyes trained on the skates as the players drifted by. The movement of the blades over the ice was incredible. You had stayed up and researched how the skating part actually worked, “Nat? Did you know the reason they glide like that?” You said absently as you focused on the sketch you're doing. She hummed in acknowledgment, “the blade of skate melts a very thin layer of the surface ice and they glide on the water from the melt,” you muttered. 

“Interesting, no I didn’t,” Nat said back as she watched her man snipe a puck into the net. You were watching as well, sketching the stick as he flicked it effortlessly and the puck soaring through the air. Silence fell over you two once again as you focused on the paper before you. 

That silence was quickly ruined by someone slamming into the boards in front of you and you yelped in surprise. You squinted at the body in front of you and then glared at him. Barnes. He was saying something but you couldn’t quite hear him, pointing to your ear and then shrugging to indicate you couldn’t hear him. He made some obscene gestures before skating away. You rolled your eyes and went back to drawing once again. 

Then someone else banged on the glass making it shake. You looked up and glared, but this time it wasn’t Barnes, his teammate, “Wilson,” Nat said as you stared at him. 

Wilson was pointing toward the center of the rink where Barnes was skating effortlessly, moving beautifully on the ice. He moved the puck back and forth quickly causing the defenceman to stumble and he scored on the net. He lifted his hand up in the air and spun on one foot. He pointed his gloved hands at you, you rolled your eyes in response. 

As much as you hated to admit it, Barnes' movement was too captivating to not want to draw. “He might be a prick, but damn he can skate,” Nat voiced your thoughts. 

“He’s handsome too,” you regretted the words the second they spilled out. Nat turned her head and raised her brow at you, a sly smile on her lips. “No, I don’t mean I think he’s handsome. He’s just you know, got that natural handsomeness to him,” you stammered. “Oh god, I’m making it worse,” you buried your face in your hands. Nat laughed a deep bellied laugh while patting your shoulder. 

“No, you’re right. He’s handsome. And he knows it. That makes it worse,” Nat said, her tone a little sour. You nodded in agreement, he then flew past you two, you both rolled your eyes. 

Practice ended and you followed Nat to the wait for Clint. She asked you to join them for pizza after practice. Standing in a hallway that leads to the locker room you were showing her what you drew that night. 

“Ah, my number one admirer,” his voice rang out, you wanted the floor to swallow you whole. “Did you get my good side,” he asked. You rolled your eyes at him for what felt like the millionth time tonight. 

“You only have good sides,” a whiny voice said and you cringed. Nat mirroring your expression but being much more subtle you’re sure. 

“Hey babe,” Clint said as he wrapped his arm around Nat and kissed her temple. “Barnes,” he tipped his head toward his teammate. 

“Barton,” Barnes said back, “you gonna introduce me to your friend?” 

“Uh, she’s Nat's friend,” Clint said. 

You shook your head and dismissed Clint with a smile. 

“My name is…” 

“I like Bunny,” Barnes cut you off suddenly. “I don’t do names for pretty ladies,” he stated. The girl hanging off his arm made a disgruntled noise and looked taken back by his open flirtation while she was right there. You felt a little bad for her.

“Nuh uh, I’m not one of those puck bunnies,” your eyes flicked to the girl hanging off his arm apologetically. 

“Never said you were Sketch,” you scrunch your nose at the nickname. 

“Original,” you sassed. 

“I’ll figure one out,” he affirmed, you crossed your arms over your chest and shook your head. 

“God you’re insufferable,” you muttered, glowering at him.

“Is he always like that?” You asked as you sat down across from Nat and Clint in the booth at the pizza place. It was a local spot, well loved by the students that populated the town.

“Barnes?” Clint as he took a bite of his pizza, you nodded. 

“Yeah, he’s all talk. He’s practically harmless,” you raised an eyebrow at Clint. “Off the ice, he’s hell on it.” You nodded. “So what’s the project you’re working on?” He asked. 

“Movement, human movement. My art prof has a vendetta against me so I’m trying to go outside the box. Pietro offered to let me do the project on him at the track. But Prof. Grace would just say I made the safe choice,” I groaned. “And football season is over so I couldn’t do it on Thor.” Clint was familiar with Peitro and Wanda since they hung around Nat, same as Thor since the sports teams tended to run in the same circles outside games. 

“Right, your roommates,” he nodded. You lived with Wanda and Pietro since the start of university, being you were good friends with them. You had met Nat your first year and subsequently met Clint when they started dated that same year. “You’re friends with Thor's brother aren’t you?” You nodded and smiled. 

“Yeah, best friends since middle school,” you nodded. “So by extension I’ve known Thor and Hela since then as well,” you added afterwards. 

“Why did you pick hockey?” You shrugged. 

“Nat suggested I come and watch a practice. You guys move so fluidly on the ice it was easy to draw,” you answered simply, eating another piece of pizza. “And frustratingly Barnes is incredibly talented and moves beautifully, I might have to ask him if I can make him my focus,” you groaned and rubbed your temples. “But he’s insufferable.” 

Clint let out a loud laugh at that and nodded, “he can be. He’s honestly not that bad once you can get past the jock personality.” You rolled your eyes. 

“That’s like saying cocaine isn’t bad once you get past the cocaine,” you laughed. “I’m pretty sure the jock personality is just him.” 

“Eh, he’s cocky, but he’s earned it. He’s pretty damn good,” Clint said. 

The rest of the evening passed quickly as conversation drifted from the brunette that had been clouding your thoughts. 

“Thanks for the lift,” you waved as Clint and Nat drove away. You quickly climbed the steps to your flat and entered. 

“Wanda, Pietro?” You called as you dropped your keys in the bowl at the entrance. 

“Living room princessa,” Pietro called sweetly. 

“What’s you guys watching?” You asked as you walked into the living, stripping your jacket off. 

“Silent hill,” Wanda answered. 

“The one with Kit Harington?” She nodded, you smiled and joined them on the couch. 

“How was practice?” Wanda asked softly. 

“It was good, I’m going to ask Barnes if I make him the focus. And I think a bullet in the thigh would be easier to deal with than him,” you sighed leaning your head back against the couch. “I was considering asking Loki to come with me when I asked him. But I don’t think that’s a good idea anymore,” you muttered. 

“Why's that?” Pietro asked. 

“They seem to have some kinda beef,” you shrugged. “He wouldn’t get into it,” you said. “Bucky’s a player, Loki isn’t a fan of that. And he’s been around him at parties. He’s apparently one incident away from being benched for the season.” Pietro seemed to nod knowingly. 

“I’m not surprised, he’s a bit hot headed. Gotten into a few fights with people. Usually with good intentions though. Seen him knock a dude out flat on his ass for trying to drug a girl at a party. He also tends to back-talk instructors,” Pietro said. “He doesn’t seem like a bad dude. A little cocky and a bit of a flirt. Seems harmless enough.” You nodded at Pietro’s explanation and watched the rest of the movie with them in silence.

You texted Loki to ask why he didn’t like Bucky. Curiosity getting the better of you. His answer came back in a couple short paragraphs. 

He seems like trouble. 

Like he can’t be stable for one week. 

He looks down on the arts pretty openly as well. Well at least English. 

And he was rude to Helena as well a couple times. 

You nodded as you read the series of texts. Loki was pretty traditional and he was never a fan of bouncing from one girl to another. Bucky was very open about doing that. 

He also gets pretty obnoxious at parties. 

He’s had a few scandals as well. Skipping out on one girl to be with another. Bit of a womanizer. 

Why? 

You quickly typed back you were curious because he was mostly likely going to be the focus for your project. 

I figured he would. Guys a prick but he’s good at what he does. 

Everyone said that. From what you’ve seen he was pretty good at hockey, not that you could judge that very well. But there was more to life than a sport. You typed a quick thanks back and wished Loki a goodnight. 

Wanda and Pietro both went to bed and you stayed curled up on the couch. You decided to do some research yourself. Typing Bucky’s name into the search engine, his stats came up, and few hockey related awards he’s won. Some articles about how good of a prospect he was. His draft position whatever that meant. Him and Steve were drafted together from what you could tell. 

Then you saw a Reddit thread from your school's Reddit talking about him, the fights he’s been in, his lack of care for academics and some people fighting about him being their boyfriend and how he was a cheating piece of shit. He apparently got into an altercation with someone on the Polo team and he and the captain of your school's rival hockey team got into a pretty bad fight after a game last year. 

Your eyes widened as you read about the fight Pietro mentioned, he was lucky the guy's family didn’t press charges from how badly Bucky beat him. Part of you knew that behavior wasn’t acceptable, but a smaller needy part of you found it insanely hot how far he went to protect the girl the dude tried to drug. You shook your head and closed the search and went to bed. You would ask him tomorrow after practice, which Nat was dragging you too again.

Taglist: @vicmc624

Feel free you send me a message if you have a request or would like more, or would like to be added to the tag list <3

Chapter 3

[redinkofshame]

JSYK just because I don't write it/post it, doesn't mean my thoughts aren't still filled with Solavellan smut on the daily. So when I saw this perfectly innocent comic my thoughts... Wouldn't leave me alone. So here, smut be upon ye.

Keria Lavellan x Solas (in the head of) x purple!mRook

🍋 explicit

Two-and-a-Half-Some

“Nice tits, by the way.”

Rook had led Keria to one of the bedrooms in the Lighthouse to show her a sketchbook full of images of herself. Unlike the rooms they’d passed on their way up, full of sentimental knickknacks and evidence of camaraderie and constant use, this room was all but barren. Clean. Sparse.

Solas’ room.

It made her heart ache, to see how alone he’d been all this time.

She raised her eyebrow at the younger man, who flushed. His expression wasn’t flirtatious so much as ‘I can’t believe I said that out loud’.

“…Sorry.”

The poor kid. He’d clearly only been trying to make a joke to ease the tension of the moment when she’d flipped from a series of tasteful nudes to… Some positions that left little to the imagination.

At least he hadn’t commented on the appearance of her anus.

She shut the book. “Don’t be. They were pretty nice back then. His sketches are a bit outdated now, though. I’m not as young as I once was.”

Rook’s eyes went unfocused for a moment, and then he said, “He, uh, he says your hard-won wisdom only makes you all the more beautiful today.”

Her breath caught in her throat. She swallowed, heart thudding. “He always was a sweet talker. It’s true then. You can hear him?”

He nodded and pointed to his temple. “Yep. Whether I want to or not.”

“And he can hear what you hear, obviously. Does he see through your eyes?”

He nodded.

“Interesting…” She took a step closer to him and raised her hand suggestively to the toggles of her shirt, designed to be easy to use one-handed. “Would you like to see an updated version? For the sake of improving the accuracy of the sketches, of course.”

His eyes went wide. “You… Want to show me your tits?”

She smirked. “I want to show Solas my tits,” she clarified. “You getting to see them is just an enjoyable side-benefit.

As long as you’re comfortable with it, of course.”

“Who in their right mind would say no to seeing the Inquisitor’s tits?” he asked, and she almost laughed at his incredulous tone. Then he added, “He’s, uh, unusually quiet. He’s not going to, like, turn me into a statue for this or anything, right?”

“He was never the jealous type,” she assured him as she began unfastening her shirt. “What about you? Any partners that would have a problem with this?”

“No. Well, partner yes, but no, we’re, uh, open to…” He trailed off, watching her hand distractedly.

She finished with the last toggle, but pointedly didn’t remove her shirt yet, waiting for him to answer.

“We’re not the jealous types, either,” he said quickly once he caught on. Then he jerked his thumb towards the door to the rest of the lighthouse. “I could go get them?”

She did laugh at that, shrugging off her shirt at last. “I think two and a half is enough for now.”

He didn’t answer, focused on her exposed skin. She arched her back prettily and ran a hand over herself, teasing her own taut nipple.

“Wow. Definitely still great.”

Keria had never though of herself as beautiful — at least, not until she’d seen the way Solas looked at her when they made love — but she’d never been particularly self-conscious either. She was surprised that some small part of her preened at the younger man’s approval.

She closed the distance between them and gently took his hand and placed it on her breast. The warmth of it and the way it moved timidly over her had her flushing with sudden need. “And can he feel what you do?”

“Who? Oh, uh, no.” Growing bolder, he had both hands on her now, kneading her breasts, thumbing her nipples delightfully.

“That’s a shame.” She ran her hand over the bulge of his britches as she said it and his breath staggered. Then she pulled back. “Unsurprising, though.”

She started on the fasteners of her own pants and Rook watched, waiting for an indication of what came next, like an eager little puppy.

Once Keria was fully nude she did a slow spin, giving both men a fully view of her decade-older body.

“I can’t understand what he’s saying,” Rook told her. “It’s elvhen. I think it’s poetry.”

“Elvhen always sounds like poetry,” she said said, affection tugging her lips and memories of him reciting beautiful words she didn’t understand while he held her against him.

She went to work on the laces of Rook’s pants, and got on her knees once his erection was freed.

Solas was always dedicated to her pleasure when they made love, rarely allowing her to do the same for him. He couldn’t stop her now, though. So she took her time and made as big a spectacle as she could, maintaining eye contact with this stranger whose head held the love of her life. She stayed focused on those eyes as she ran her tongue along Rook’s shaft, then twirled it around the head, as she took him deep, as she left long trails of saliva whenever she pulled back. Neither man said anything she could hear, though Rook’s groans were satisfying.

When she felt she’d teased enough, (and that Rook might not last much longer,) she pulled back and stood, swaying her hips artfully as she moved to the bed. She climbed on and mirrored one of the positions in the sketchbook, half-propped against the headboard with her knees spread wide.

He continued to stare after her as she stroke her slick core, displaying herself. She wasn't sure if his glazed look was from trying to hear Solas speak, or simple lust.

“Rook,” she said finally. “Take off your clothes and come here."

He jumped to it, almost tangling himself in an attempt to remove both his pants and shirt at the same time, half-tripping as he removed his socks while getting on the sheets. She used a hand on his jaw to guide him over her, in case he got confused about that, too.

He knelt between her legs and took his time admiring her, and she wondered if it was Solas that told him to run his hands up and down the insides of her thighs, to try gripping her hips and waists in different spots, to cup her breasts again. She whimpered with heat by the time Rook ran the head of his cock up and down her folds several times, wetting it before finally plunging into her.

She kept her eyes open and on him when normally she’d have closed them to enjoy the full feeling, the friction, the energetic thrusting his hips against hers. But though it felt odd to look so deep into a stranger’s eyes as he fucked her, she wanted Solas to see her.

Fortunately, the man spent most of his time watching his cock moving in and out of her and her fingers circling her clit, or her bouncing tits.

Then there was a flash, a flicker of blue spirit light, and suddenly his thrusts became pounding, movements becoming equal measures controlled and intense.

She gasped. “Solas?”

“Mah vhenan,” he breathed in the wrong voice, and then he was kissing, biting, sucking on her neck as he moved in her.

Her hand moved to his head but it was wrong, the hair was wrong, so she gripped his back instead and closed her eyes so she couldn’t see Rook anymore, just Solas, her Solas. She came almost immediately, the tension in her releasing with waves of pleasure rushing over her.

He rode her through her climax and then slowed, still, and kissed her. He hadn’t finished, still hard in her as he kissed her harder still. His tongue teased hers, plunging deep, like he couldn’t taste enough of her. She wrapped her arm around him as tight as she could, kissing him with a decade of frustration and longing.

When they pulled back for air she kept her eyes firmly closed, and perhaps he understood because he pulled out and she was suddenly moved, turned over so she was positioned on her knees. She arched her back exaggeratedly, still putting on a show for him. He ran his hands along her thighs, grabbed handfuls of her ass, ran fingers through her folds as he lined up his borrowed cock. He gripped her hips with both hands as he plunged into her, and she moaned his name, and, “I love you, I love you, ar lath ma.”

Whatever he said in breathless elvhen was lost on her as he pounded into her again and again, taking her like an animal. When she came a second time she finally felt his movements become less controlled, insistent and clumsy as he chased his own climax as last.

His movements slowed, stilled. She stopped propping herself up on her shaking arm and allowed herself to collapse on the mattress, and he came down with her.

“Are you still in there?” she panted.

“Yes, vhenan.” For some reason part of her was still surprised the voice was wrong. He rolled them onto their sides and she gripped his arms hard around her, unwilling to let go.

“How long do you have?”

“Not long.” He pressed feather-soft kisses against her shoulder. Then he sighed. “But I can’t leave before I tell you how sorry I am. For everything.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, unwilling to waste this precious moments on his constant guilt. “Var lath vir suledin. I’m going to find a way to save you.” To free him from his prison in the Fade. To be together in this new world he’d made.

He kissed her shoulder again, and she thought it sounded like he was smiling when he replied, “I know.”

I know. Not ‘I know you will try’’. Just ‘I know’. He believed her.

“Solas…” she started, but she trailed off.

It didn’t feel like him anymore. Somehow, she knew he had gone.

“Rook?” she tried instead.

“Uh, yeah” he said as he awkwardly pulling his limp dick out of her. “I’m back.”

Keria bit back her disappointment to put on a satisfied smile as she turned to face him. He looked like he didn’t know what to do with himself. “Hey. You doing okay? That was… Unexpected. I didn’t know uncontrolled horniness could lead to a spontaneous possession.”

He laughed, and settled back comfortably. “Yeah, neither did either of us.”

She ran her hand along his chest. “Are you feeling okay about it? I just want to check because we didn’t discuss the option before hand.”

He nodded. “Definitely. I think… I think I could have stop it? The possession. It felt weird, kind of like a build up of pressure, but I think I could have stopped it.”

“Why didn’t you?” As a mage she'd been taught to protect herself against possession her whole life. She couldn’t imagine just letting it happen.

Rook shrugged. “I wanted to see what would happen.”

Her mouth was open, but she couldn’t think of a response to that. At last, she shook and said, “Varric said you’d be trouble.”

He grinned. Then, looking a little apologetic, he said, “I was ‘there’ the whole time, you know. Like, I could still, uh, feel everything.”

She made sure to smile comfortingly so he’d know she wasn’t upset by this. “Side benefits indeed.” She kissed him — Rook, not Solas. He deserved to feel wanted, too. “Thanks for the tour of the lighthouse. Glad to be part of the team.”

[hannahssimblr]

She seems brighter when she comes back, though we all ignore the blotchiness of her face, like she’s just been crying. Her lashes are a little wet too, making them long and spiky like she’s a girl from a cartoon. She and Liam are smiling into each other's faces now, mumbling vague reassurances, giggling together as though what just occurred was so silly, and hasn’t caused any genuine hurt to either of them. 

When he kisses her on the cheek she flinches slightly as though there is something objectionable or embarrassing about the way that he touches her, and in that moment his insecurity makes sense. 

I think everyone feels bad for her then and wants for her to feel included because they start asking her questions about school which she answers enthusiastically, making sure to look very interested and engaged in what everyone is saying. It occurs to me that she’s a nice person, that she’s making an effort with others and being polite, and perhaps my initial judgement of her formality was unfair. I think I should try harder to be a nice person too, but then I wonder if it’s even in my nature to be that way. I’ve sort of already embraced being a bastard and allowed it to define me. 

“Tell everyone what you want to do in college,” Shane encourages, and Evie fiddles with the ends of her plaits. “Oh, well, art, I think.”

“You make art?” I say.

Immediately her face reddens. It must be a side effect of her kind of complexion. 

“Yeah, I suppose I’m okay at it.”

“Everyone says she’s great at it.” Liam says proudly, as though we are discussing his accomplishments and not Evie’s. “I haven’t seen her drawings yet, but the girls were raving about her. She draws in her sketchbook every day.”

“That’s cool.” I speak pointedly to her and not him, “What do you draw?” 

“Just whatever I see. Landscapes, people, sometimes still life, like stuff that’s lying around in the mobile home. I really like doing it, because when I’m drawing I don’t have to think about anything else.”

I smile. Somehow it’s comforting to hear her talking about art in a way that’s wholly familiar to me, as a meditation, a form of escapism.

“Jude is an artist too.” Jen says. “Ye have something in common.”

“Yeah, I’m studying art in college next year. I already have my place in the Berlin Academy of Fine Arts to do a degree.”

“Oh, so you’re studying abroad?”

“Yeah, it’s going to be good. Four years in Germany, I can’t wait. I’m actually leaving at the end of the summer,” which is… about seven weeks. My palms prickle and become damp with sweat but I keep smiling. It’s fine. Everything will just fall into place as long as I don't get stressed. 

Claire interrupts our conversation with her return, and kneels whispering urgent sounding things to Evie. I don’t hear anything but the delightful phrase “throwing up everywhere” and wonder with utter dread what exactly constitutes everywhere. On the couch? The rug? Up the walls? Well, at least it’ll be motivation to clean the house for once. Still, I’m struck by how much I fucking hate Kelly Healy in that moment, and consider suggesting that Jen clean up her vomit as penance for inviting her in the first place. 

“I can get my dad to come and collect us,” Liam is saying as he and Evie are getting up to help.

“Is everything okay?” says Jen, and Evie smiles tightly, “Yeah, just Kelly’s sick, so we’re going to have to take her home and look after her and stuff.”

“You don’t have to go, Evie, you can stay here with us if you want.”

She shakes her head, “No, I do. I want to go with them,” she turns to leave, but Jen quickly catches her wrist, “Hey, you should come to Dublin with us this weekend.”

“Huh?”

“Jude and I are going to an exhibition, and you might really like it.”

Usually I’d be pissed off that she’s changing our plans without consulting me first, but it seems like a good idea to me, actually. Maybe it’d be nice to go to an exhibition with someone who enjoys art, and not just Jen who walks around pointing at things and saying I could do that if I was bothered.

“No pressure at all,” I assure her, “but yeah, if you want to, you’re welcome. We’ll mostly be hanging out in the city for the day anyway so whatever you feel like doing.”

Jen pats her hand and gives her a meaningful look, “I’m just saying, it might be nice to get away for an afternoon.”

Evie grins. It’s the happiest I’ve seen her look all night, “I’d love to.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

Corresponding LG Chapter

[headkiss]

headcanons for peter’s girlfriend being a photographer like him? her asking if she can take peter’s portrait frequently and him getting flustered <3 :,)

hiii i wrote this as a blurb rather than headcanons i hope that’s okay! ty for the request <3 | 0.6k words and a whole bunch of fluff

Peter’s sitting near the window sketching something you can’t see. His head bent in a way sure to leave a soreness in his neck, his lips pouted in focus.

The TV plays in front of you, but you don’t pay it any attention. Not when Peter looks so pretty.

You turn on the couch to face him, side pressed against the back, knees pulled up so you can rest your chin on them. He can feel your eyes on him, you know he can because he can feel everything. He looks up from his sketchbook and his eyes find yours.

“What?” He asks, flustered from your obvious attention.

“Nothing,” you shake your head.

I just love you, you think. I just love you and you’re the prettiest boy in the whole world. His hair flops over his forehead, messier than usual since neither of you had bothered to get ready. He’s still in his pajama pants from last night, you’re still in your sleep shirt and softest pair of his boxers.

He huffs a laugh and looks back at his drawing. He knows whatever you’re thinking, it’ll probably make him want to kiss you. Then, he’ll never finish his sketch.

He’s trying his best not to, but Peter rushes the finishing touches of his drawing just a bit. It’s hard to focus when he can practically feel your love for him seeping from you.

When he moves to stand, you stop him.

“No, wait!”

There’s a sunbeam hitting his bare chest perfectly through the window. Sunshine on sunshine.

You spring up from your seat, probably telling him to ‘wait’ about ten times as you rush to grab your camera from his bedroom. Peter listens. You do this often, take pictures of him.

He can’t be annoyed with you (ever) about this, because he does it, too. There’s a drawer in his bedside table filled with pictures you’ve taken of each other.

You come back into the living room, sliding on the hardwood floors with your socks. Your camera clutched in your hands, the expression you always give him when you want to capture him on your face.

“Baby,” he all but whines.

“Just one, promise,” he gives you a deadpan stare. “Okay, maybe five.”

“You know I can’t say no to you. This is taking advantage.”

“Peter, please? I’ll do your laundry.”

“You already do my laundry, even when I tell you not to.”

“A menace. Can you just pretend to be drawing again?”

He does, letting his sketchbook fall open to the page he’d been on beforehand. He fixes up some of the details he’d overlooked in his haste to finish and sit with you instead.

“So pretty,” you murmur, quiet enough he wouldn’t have heard it if his senses weren’t always so heightened.

He hopes the camera doesn’t catch how fiercely he blushes.

He humors you for about two minutes before he can’t stand the amount of little compliments you give him. Before he can’t stand not being able to grab your face and kiss you.

Peter shuts his book again, crawling over to where you kneel on the floor. He gets so close you’re forced to lean back, letting yourself be laid down slowly on the cool floors.

“Peter. I wasn’t done.”

“Mm. Sorry, baby, I just really wanted to kiss you.”

“Oh, okay. I can accept that, I guess.”

“‘I guess.’ You’re a meanie.”

He’s smiling when he says it, nudging his nose against yours and gently taking your camera from your hands and placing it aside.

“You gonna kiss me anyway?”

Rather than answer you, he pushes his lips against yours, sweet and slow. The kind of kiss only a lazy Sunday can bring.

[eddiemunsonw]

Hellfire Club

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your plan to pick up your cousin Dustin at his Hellfire Club meeting ends a little… differently.

OR

Eddie and you do the do

CW/Disclaimer: Smut. But kinda sweet and sorta funny smut.

Author's note: Enjoyyyyyyy. :)

Words: 3935

On your way into Hawkins High, you were met with the majority of students leaving it instead. Some guys gave you lingering looks as they checked out the “new girl” but to your relief no one approached you. It would be kind of awkward to tell them you had a few years on them and therefore no interest in the slightest. Dustin had told you how to get to the drama room where he was attending his “Hellfire Club” meeting and thanks to his clear instructions it wasn’t too hard to get there. Since you weren’t entirely sure how long they would take, you had brought along your sketchbook and assumed it would be no trouble to hang out there for the time being.

The room was dark as you entered, an atmosphere created by a faded orange, yellow hue that seemed to have been used to create a sunset type of feel. A couple of fake torches were lit and in the middle of the room stood a large, dark wooden table surrounded by wooden chairs that were currently occupied. At the head of the table was a throne and with one glance at the guy who had claimed that seat, you knew he was probably the Dungeon Master.

You didn’t know a ton about Dungeons & Dragons, but Dustin had taken it upon himself to tell you lots about it during the times you visited him and your aunt Claudia. Hence, it also wasn’t a secret to you that the guy with the unruly brown hair went by the name of Eddie Munson. His eyes were on you the moment you walked in, giving you a peculiar look that seemed to calculate what to do with you. One part seemed to want you gone, the other… wasn’t too sure. Without further ado you decided that the best way to not interrupt them was to simply sit down at the other side of the table opposite Eddie.

The frown on Eddie’s face deepened when you did and he cocked his head in confusion, eyes following your gaze towards Dustin. You had assumed that he would’ve told the guy that you would be “joining” the session. When Dustin was about to speak, Eddie was just a little quicker and you found him looking in your direction again.

“To what do we owe the honor of your presence, miss…?”

Dustin grabbed his second chance before you could answer.

“That’s Y/N, my cousin. She was uhm… picking me up.” A frown appeared on his face and it seemed as if there was more to that statement. However, Eddie wasted no time.

“Okay… can’t she wait somewhere else?” Eddie asked, his brow raised as he eyed Dustin with mild curiosity and a sliver of annoyance. Dustin was starting to get impatient as this time you spoke up before he could, again.

“Don’t worry, she can speak just fine.” You gave him a tight lipped smile as his face turned towards you, hair softly swaying with the motion. Eddie responded with a quick smile of his own that didn’t meet his eyes and he looked frankly quite uninterested in what you had to say.

“Actually…” Dustin started apologetically, glancing over at you, “I no longer need the ride.” At your subtle eyebrow raise he hastily continued. “I couldn’t reach you, I tried! I’m gonna go somewhere with Lucas later so… I don’t need the ride anymore.” he finished in one breath.

“Oh, alright. No problem.” You shrugged and grabbed your sketchbook, causing confusion to etch into the faces of all other party members as they looked at you expectantly.

“Y/N…?” Dustin tried hesitantly. A smile teased the corners of your lips as you heard the softest, impatient huff coming from the head of the table.

“Oh? Hope you don’t mind if I linger for a bit? Robin took my car because I assumed I’d be here for a while, which is why I’m earlier than we agreed upon actually. I don’t really feel like hanging around elsewhere in the school, and the weather isn’t exactly peachy today. Quite like the change of scenery here, actually.”

“Would be great if you could take your desire for nice scenery elsewhere, actually,” Eddie mumbled. “We’re having something serious going on here.”

Barely able to stop yourself from rolling your eyes, you sighed softly before addressing him.

“Relax, Munson. I won’t interrupt. Promise.”

From the looks of it Eddie wanted to retort, but when Dustin gave him a look he just rolled his eyes and for some reason, he relented. As if you weren’t there at all, he continued what he was saying before your arrival had interrupted him in the first place.

It was actually quite entertaining to listen to them playing the game. Mostly because of Eddie, really, with all the effort he put into various characters and the range of voices he had for them. You found yourself resting your pencil on the paper more often than not to glance up at him, only to find how often his eyes would look in your direction. You couldn’t help but smile and sometimes softly giggle along with the rest of the party whenever he did something funny. Whether it was intended or not. 

At some point however, you were thoroughly engrossed in your drawing when all of a sudden a ringed hand came into view, holding what you recalled as a d20.

“Blow on it, for good luck.”

You glanced upwards at Eddie who gave you an expression that you found hard to read at first. Suddenly, as his brows knit together the slightest fraction, you recognized it. A challenge. For whatever reason he needed proof that you weren’t ridiculing him behind your smiles and giggles. Not sure how you knew, but you just knew that that was what it was about, for some reason.

Your free hand cupped around his and you blew gently on the dice, looking upwards through your lashes to meet his eyes again.

“Like that?” you asked innocently, knowing exactly what you were doing. His eyes darkened a fraction when you licked your lips out of habit. You couldn’t help but smile when his eyes shifted away from you as he nodded, hand lingering in yours for just a touch longer.

“Yeah, just like that.”

And with that, the tone had changed. Your eyes met his over the table when he rolled eighteen, which was enough for what he had wanted to do apparently because he smiled. It wasn’t just a smile. Although hard to put into words, you knew you had played the cards he had given you just right.

Where the party hadn’t commented on his little good luck charm action, they did speak up when Eddie started describing a damsel in distress exactly like you. Your hair, eyes, even the color of your shirt was woven into the description. It wasn’t just those details that did it for them, though. It was how he continued to describe how effortlessly beautiful she was. A real head turner. All while stealing obvious glances at you as he went on to add details such as a necklace and rings. He had changed your watch into a bracelet.

As Eddie continued to add the mischievous sparkle in your or “their” eyes, Dustin interrupted him with a near whine that made it very clear he was feeling quite uncomfortable.

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on here, but can we stop adding my cousin into the game? It gives me the heebie-jeebies.” Dustin begged.

Eddie cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes as he read Dustin’s expression carefully. He made a show of taking a sip of his mountain dew that he had poured into a chalice first and smirked.

“There are many people who go by that description, Henderson. Can’t help but gather my inspiration from the direct environment sometimes though. Would you rather have the damsel look like you?”

Dustin pouted as the rest of the party laughed and he scribbled something onto his paper. You were sure he wrote down to remind himself to never ask you for a favor again.

“Well?” Eddie pressed, a big grin on his face.

“... no.”

“Glad we agree.”

At the end of the session, Dustin was surprised you hadn’t left yet. You simply shrugged and said Robin must be taking longer. The kids left to make some copies of a poster they needed next Monday for their science project and then they would be off, heading into the weekend. You, however, hadn’t moved a muscle. Not even when Eddie had packed up about all of his stuff. He seemed a little more nervous, a little agitated now that it was just you two. His confidence had taken a subtle dip and you didn’t mind. You thought he looked cute with those slightly pink cheeks. He glanced over at you and you held his gaze, crossing your arms and noticed he mirrored you.

“What’s your deal?”

“My deal?”

Eddie nodded and rested his elbows on the table, cupping his hands to hold his face up. He looked a little worn out, which wouldn’t surprise you considering all the talking he had done. You sat forward as well, doing the same as you quirked a brow.

“I don’t know. I just— why’re you still here?” It genuinely seemed to confuse him. In all honesty, you weren’t sure why you were still there. 

“Have I overstayed my welcome? If I ever was? Welcome, that is.” you asked as you tilted your head a little. Eddie sighed and leaned back in his throne and you put your sketchbook away. As you leaned back in your chair, you noticed he was still staring at you.

“That’s not—” He pursed his lips together, trying to let his mind form words to deal with his mess of a brain which was currently working overtime. You watched as he straightened his back just as you did and picked up a dice in front of him. Eyes wandering all the way back to your end of the table, you noticed a dice nearby that probably belonged to either Eddie or another member of the party. As you picked it up, Eddie spoke.

“Are you copying me?”

You looked up and raised a brow at him, only to find he was already raising one at you. He clenched his fist around the dice just as you did. All not on purpose, really. It just happened.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you replied, though a little voice in your head said that maybe you should start copying him on purpose. Just to see. So when he raked a hand through his hair, you did too. He rolled his eyes, so did you. A subtle laugh escaped his lips in disbelief, and you shook your head simultaneously after.

“So you are.”

“So you are.”

“Ah, speech too?”

“Ah, speech too?”

Neither of you made a move to leave the drama room, although that had been Eddie’s intention. He had no desire to linger in this room with you, someone who did things to his brain and the rest of his body. As much as his rational side wanted to get out of here, though, the desire to stay was much stronger. He licked his lips, pleased to see you doing the same although it sent shivers down his spine immediately. He tapped his nose with his finger and so did you. Both of you smiled.

“Interesting,” you both mused. Eddie started to like the game. Grabbed onto the back of his throne so his shirt tightened against his chest and rode up a little. His satisfied smirk made you roll your eyes when you copied him. Apart from blinking, your eyes never left each other. His hands traveled over the table graciously before grabbing a fistful of his hair and yanking it gently. The grimace on your face made him giggle.

“What are we doing?” Eddie asked softly as he grasped at his shoulder with his hand, gently trailing it down towards his chest. His cheeks were flushed, anticipation in his eyes as he followed your hand. He licked his lips subconsciously and felt the need to shift in his seat.

“I don’t know,” you responded honestly. You just knew that you didn’t want this to end. Your hand grazed your bra through the fabric as he dared to move lower, making you almost cup your breast. It wasn’t until he made a squeezing motion that you protested.

“Not exactly fair, is it?” you mumbled, though you did in fact squeeze your boob as many times as he squeezed the empty air in front of his chest.

“That I don’t have boobs to squeeze? Very unfair,” Eddie agreed. He grinned boyishly as your eyes traveled to the back of their sockets again. “Any more eye rolling and they’ll stick there permanently.”

“I’d stop if you’d stop squeezing air, maybe.” Squeezing your breast in front of a guy you had met on the same day in a setting like this wasn’t exactly on your bucket list. Had you known it would get you this hot, you might have jotted it down on paper.

“Alright,” Eddie said lightly, adding a second hand now to rub up and down his chest. When he made a show of rubbing his thumbs over his nipples, which you were surprised to see poking through his club t-shirt, the softest noise escaped his lips. You smirked as he looked a little panicked, clearly not intending to let it out. Just as he wanted to move away from his chest to save himself the embarrassment, you let out a gentle hum of your own.

“Fuck,” Eddie whispered, his eyes darkening. You briefly wondered how high the chances of anyone coming in unexpectedly were. Hopefully Eddie knew. He rubbed his chest more vigorously, his thumbs grazing his nipples, wishing for the movements to release more sounds out of you. He no longer cared as much for the noises he made himself, as his focus was on you. The soft hums, soft moans. It was at that moment that he dared to move his hand down to palm himself through his pants. Eyes blown out with lust watched your hand travel down as well.

“You touching yourself?” he asked softly, his other hand squeezing his peck through his shirt.

“Depends… are you? I’m copying you after all, like you said. All I can see is that you moved your hand down in your lap.”

A low chuckle rumbled up in his chest and he nodded.

“I am. Though… can’t exactly copy me there, now can you?”

“Not exactly, no. But we worked it out for our chests too, didn’t we?”

Eddie nodded, a groan escaping his lips as he let his thumb find the head of his cock but realizing once again that these aesthetically tight jeans were very inconvenient at times like these.

“Mhm. So. Are you?”

Your hand cupped your mound through your jeans, which didn’t really do much for you, but you nodded nonetheless. For a moment, all you did was stare at each other as you silently dealt with the lack of feeling through both of your jeans.

“Fuck it,” Eddie mumbled, reaching down with his other hand as well to unbuckle his belt and shove his hand down his pants. It took some willpower to not immediately dive into his boxers as well.

“Get inside your jeans,” he ordered, his voice low.

“How do we ask nicely?” you teased. Eddie moaned softly as he ran his thumb over the wet spot of his boxers where the head strained against it and smirked.

“Jus’ wanna make sure you feel good baby.”

“Hm. Fair enough,” you shrugged, as if you weren’t dying to shove your hand down your pants at this point. Once your fingers grazed across the front of your panties, a whimper escaped you. Shit. You were wetter than you expected and couldn’t help but blush at the realization.

“You make such pretty sounds,” Eddie commented softly before adding a moan of his own to the mix. “Kinda wanna… find out what sounds you’d make for me.”

“Hmm… what would you like to do to me?” you asked, your voice spreading like silk over the table before it reached his ears. Eddie bit down on his lip and sighed slowly.

“So many things, sweetheart. But… I’d taste you first. Go down on you and make you roll your eyes back for good reason.”

“Sounds confident.”

“‘Cause it’s a promise.”

Your eyes met again and you mirrored his expression without trying. His mouth stood agape, brows knit together as he felt himself, hand wrapped lightly around his length determined to drag it out as long as he could. You were playing with your clit, alternating it with sliding down your lips to spread your wetness all around. Moans came easier now, mingled with each other. Everything outside of you and the table separating you both seemed to disappear as you continued to stimulate yourselves.

Without removing his hand, Eddie got up out of his chair and rounded the table. You met him halfway. His free hand grabbed the back of your neck to pull you in for a bruising kiss, layered with lust and need. Your tongues danced together in a battle for dominance while he replaced the hand in your pants with his own. His fingers found your sensitive spots effortlessly, thumb working your clit as he pumped his fingers inside. He nudged down your jeans until they were halfway down your thighs and you did the same to him along with his boxers and wrapped your hand around his cock. He buckled inside your hand and a sweet whine escaped him as he desperately started to move.

You tried to drown your moans into your kisses but he moved away to nip at your neck instead.

“Wanna hear you baby,” he murmured against your neck, licking along the side while leaving soft nibbles in between. You threw your head back and moaned, louder than anticipated and when you whispered something along the lines of “oh shit”, he chuckled.

“You’re so cute. So cute and pretty. When you blew on those dice— fuck.”

“Yeah what was that about, huh?” you asked, a smile playing on your lips until they formed an “O” when Eddie started rubbing your clit faster.

“Just needed some luck.”

“Still feeling lucky?” you asked, leaning back to meet his eyes. You jerked him off faster and judging how much effort went into responding to you, you knew he was close.

“Y-Yeah, I think so, why?” he asked as he tried to still his hips.

“Fuck me.”

Eddie grinned darkly and smashed his lips onto yours.

“Fuck yes.”

In one swift move he pushed any lingering clutter off the table and lifted you up on it, pushing you down with his body so you would lay down. He removed your jeans and panties and spread your legs as he kneeled down before you.

“Need a taste.”

With the flat of his tongue he licked a long stripe upwards, moaning against your cunt as he lapped up the juices that his fingers had spread around. He wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked gently before circling around it with his tongue. Your hand tugged on his hair not so gently and the vibration of his moans sent your juices flowing. Before he could get lost in eating you out, you pulled him back up by his hair.

“C’mon Eddie, please.”

“Pretty girl needs me so bad, huh?” he cooed teasingly. You slapped his arm affectionately and he grinned.

“As if your cock isn’t quivering at the mere thought of getting some. You can make me roll my eyes back for good reason some other time.”

“That a promise?” Eddie asked, a little too honest and a little less confident with the way he cupped your cheek and gazed down at you with his pretty brown eyes.

“Mhm, if you’re good.”

Eddie smiled and fished out his wallet and swiftly wrapped a condom around himself. He leaned down, kissing you a little sweeter than he had before and you felt the head nudging your opening. As his tongue licked into your mouth, he bottomed out inside you and you gasped pleasantly. Where it had started with a burning fire surging inside you both, currently it felt like the urgency had gone. There was no rush, yet enough desire and as soon as Eddie picked up the pace, your moans filled the echoing room again.

“That’s it baby, that’s it. Fuck you feel so good. Jesus H. you’re— oh shit.”

You grasped at his back, nails digging into his skin as your hands were buried under his t-shirt. Eddie’s hands were on your hips, pushing you back onto his cock with each thrust as his lips sloppily kissed yours to drown out the loudest moans.

“‘M close, you close?” he grunted, watching in satisfaction as you nodded, words no longer coming to you in favor of your sweet moans. He nodded in understanding, kissing your cheek quickly before pounding into you harder. You were both so lost in each other that you didn’t notice the door opening.

“Hey Y/N, your car is in the parking lot so— Jesus CHRIST! NO. NO! What?! I knew it, I knew it. Gross. You’re gross! I can’t believe— with my cousin, Eddie? With Eddie of all people, Y/N?! This is too much too—”

Eddie scrambled you up against him, trying to shield your exposed parts as well as he could when he looked over your shoulder at Dustin in horror. It all happened so quickly that by the time you looked over your shoulder, you could already see the door closing again as Dustin fled.

“Oh shit. I should— I have to— He’s gonna be so upset—” you stammered, wanting to move but staying still as you still very much had Eddie’s cock buried deep inside you. Eddie shook his head, nipping at your neck with needy kisses.

“He’ll still be consolable later, I won’t be though if we stop right now. Please.”

“Eddie.”

“Baby, sweetheart. Please,” he pleaded. “I really wanna,” he moved out halfway and thrusted back in slowly, “...make you feel so good.”

You bit down a smile and kissed him eagerly as he picked up his pace again, gently letting you back down so he could use both his hands to grab your hips. It didn’t take long before you both reached your highs, his hips stuttering as your walls clenched around him, desperate moans meeting desperate kisses. You rode out your orgasms until he pulled you back up in a hug, smoothing his hands over your back as the table wasn’t exactly the most comfortable thing to lay down upon, he remembered from a solo session.

“So… will you be joining again next week baby?” he murmured against your cheek, leaving a kiss with his words.

“I don’t think I’ll be allowed in here after traumatizing Dustin like that,” you smirked.

“Lucky for us I’m the Dungeon Master,” he quipped with a grin that matched yours. His hand lovingly cupped your cheek to steal a kiss from your lips. You hummed in thought.

“How about… you take me to dinner after the meeting and we find a place more uhm, comfortable and a little more private?”

Eddie smiled and gave you a nod.

“Sounds like a plan.”

Leave a heart or even better, reblog if you liked this! It helps me a lot getting more exposure and therefore more people to read it. :)

This fic can also be found on my ao3!

[eeunoia]

ENHYPEN Mini Series

E N H Y P E N as Greek Myths

PYGMALION & GALATHEA

pairings: nishimura riki x reader

synopsis: like any other artists, nishimura riki, loves his sketches. but he grew fond of this one sketch of girl he sees in his dream. what will happen if suddenly, she appreared right in front of him? this time in real time, not in dreams land.

word count: 10k

important note: i originally planned to write enhypen as greek gods but then i didn’t find some love stories that i like so i end up using some love stories that aren’t greek gods. also these are like modern versions of greek mythology love stories.

warnings: grammar errors, not proof read, a dead relative. let me know if i missed some!

note📎: you have come to the end of this series. i can’t believe i finished this one already. i hope you guys liked it! it really means a lot to me whenever you let me know what you think about them, re-blogs and comments are well appreciated. btw, i love you guys and thank you for supporting me up until now. have a nice day/night! 🤍

permanent tag-list:

@rubyanne @map-of-border @hwangjangmi @crjwon @love13tter @edensgardenn @simpforniki @classicroyalty @angel-hybrid @bridgebridgebirdiebridge @hime98 @moonsclover @ddeonubaby @yeoungie @acciomylove @mymeloem19 @jvngw0n @dreamyenskz @minamoons @clar-iii @herasalvatore @nyfwyeonjun @rcveribin @yizhoutv @one16core @soobin-chois @kyutiepeachy @chareadingpurposes @hwalllllllelujah @solelyenha @90sni-ki @nourhan-8 @nikipedia07 @yangbreads @drunkjazed @kimmchijjajang @hoonbrry @axartia @all4haru @hiqhkey @sta-rie @purplepuppychild @iceeee @wtfhyuck @tobiosbbyghorl @nikililmj @ayayiiie @moonlightisland @aeyeree

© 2023 eeunoia — all rights reserved.

“But seriously, do you think I’m the wrong one? I really think she’s the one at fault!” Ni-ki smirks while listening to his friend ranting. He heard he had a fight with his girlfriend and now he’s here ranting about it.

He offered to accompany him to go buy some art stuff. If only he knew his friend will just be like this, he would’ve gone alone. He can’t focus on picking the right materials with him talking and talking.

“I think you are the wrong one.” he spat just to piss his friend off. The look of betrayal flashes through his face that made Ni-ki laugh before continuing on checking the rack of color pastels in front of him.

“What? Dude! She literally just got mad at me because—”

“Because you didn’t told her you will go out with us yesterday.” Ni-ki finished off his sentence for him. He picks up one pack of pastel of a well known brand and looks throughly over it.

Jungwon sighs, “So? Does she have to know everything that I’m doing?”

Ni-ki shrugs his shoulders off. “I don’t know. Do I look like I’m in a relationship to know?” the sarcasm over his tone made Jungwon shut up for a while. He looked at him with pitiful eyes. It made Ni-ki roll his eyes and look at him, abandoning his pastels for a while.

“Look, hyung. Let me put it this way,” he starts. ”If she goes with her friends and she didn’t inform you at all. You just found out when you saw her story and you’ve been waiting for her text for hours, what would you feel?”

Jungwon furrowed his brows, “I will be worried and pissed.”

Ni-ki nodded his head, “That answers your question on who's at fault.” and he now moves on to go look for a new sketchbook, holding the chosen pastel in one of his hands.

His friend sighs and leaned over a rack before unconsciously picking one, eyes scanning it randomly.

“Fine. I’ll say sorry to her later.”

Ni-ki rolled his eyes and just grabbed his usual sketchbook before walking towards the cashier. He can feel his friend following behind him, he’s not ranting anymore. Probably realized he’s the wrong one.

“Ah right!” Jungwon jogs so he can catch up with Ni-ki. “Do you want to come with me tomorrow? My girlfriend says she will take her best friend with her tomorrow to keep her off from her books.”

Ni-ki falls in line before he glance at his friend with a tired look over his face.

Jungwon’s girl goes to the other school and so they often go on dates during weekends. He doesn’t even know how the two ended up meeting each other.

“I’m not interested.” he coldly rejected it.

Jungwon rolled his eyes, “Come on! One date?”

Ni-ki sighs and shakes his head for his friend. “Dude, why do you guys keep on forcing me to date? I’m all good.”

His friend draws in a strained sigh, “So you will stop spending too much with your sketchbook. Seriously, dude? Are you going after Da vinci’s steps?” he joked and even told him that he will just step out of the store to call his girlfriend. He will wait for him outside.

Ni-ki nodded his head and just waits patiently for his turn. His mind are now slowly floating, getting filled by thoughts of what his friend said. He do spends so much time with his sketchbook. He loves arts and drawing stuff. Ever since he was a child, he’s always been interested about it. But that’s not the only reason.

There’s this girl. She kept on appearing inside his dreams. He don’t remember when it started, but all he knows is that she appeared often that he find her already familiar even if he haven’t met her yet.

He also have a lot of sketch of her face. As times pass by, he almost perfected it. The sketches was always beautiful. Well, she is very beautiful.

He smiled at the counter and muttered a low ‘thanks’ after he grabs his stuff then the change. He slowly walks out of the store and saw his friend smiling slightly while talking to his girlfriend. Ni-ki scoffed, couldn’t believe what he’s currently seeing. He approaches him silently and he signalled wait before finally ending the call.

“Done?” he asks him. Ni-ki gave a short nod before they both walked together to head home.

“Are you still having dreams about that girl?” the question made Ni-ki glanced over his friend.

“Its not like I have it everyday, Won hyung.” he smirks.

Jungwon stole a glance before shrugging his shoulders off and putting his hands inside his pocket. “I mean we still think that one of the reasons why you don’t want to date is because of her.”

Ni-ki gulped and tried to keep his smirk. “What?” he let out a scoff. Making it seem like what his friend just said is very funny.

“No. I haven’t even seen her, we don’t even know if she’s true or my mind just created her..” he says, letting out his thoughts.

“Exactly.” Jungwon stated and taps his shoulder, “Then come come with me with the double date.” he even gave his friend this smile that he thinks can convince him. He looked pretty confident.

Ni-ki lets out a sigh. He knew how his friend can be persistent at times and even if he spare him today, he will try again some other day. He don’t want him annoying him about this matter again. One date won’t hurt him, right? Besides, he didn’t really told him that he should be in a relationship with that person. They will just go on a date and hang out.

“One date?” he tries to make sure his friend ain’t bating him into something funny.

Jungwon scoffed, “Yes, one date. Unless of course if you end up liking her and stuff.”

Ni-ki rolls his eyes and stood up once he saw their bus approaching. “That’s impossible.” he replied. Jungwon didn’t said anything else then just get on the bus with Ni-ki.

Once settled in, they both started talking about other stuff like video games and basketball. The date long forgotten.

Saturday came and Ni-ki was suddenly called in an emergency basketball practice. He cursed while trying to grab his gym bag and also his jersey. While going down the stairs, he almost missed one and fell. His mom furrowed her brows as she try to check on him. She got bothered by the noise he makes with all this rush.

“Ni-ki? I thought you will go out with Jungwon?” she asks, confused as to why he’s wearing a jersey.

“Oh shit.” he got stoned over his position right after remembering about the date he agreed to go to yesterday. It totally slipped off his mind because of the sudden call for practice.

“Language Nishimura Riki.” his Mom said strictly. He gave her a smile before kissing her forehead then jogged out of the house waving her good-bye.

“Sorry, bye Mom!” he says and continues.

While in a hurry, he fished his phone from his duffle bag and dialled his friend’s number. Jungwon picks up after two rings.

“Hey, where are you? I’m on my way to the meeting place right now.”

Ni-ki gulped, feeling slightly guilty for cancelling at the last minute. It’s not like he planned to ditch this date. It just happened that they were called in an unexpected practice because their coach will be gone the next day so he couldn’t train them. He moved the practice today.

“About that...” he started and stood over the waiting shed to wait for the bus.

“I can’t make it today, hyung. I’m sorry. We were called in for basketball practice.”

“What? I thought that's tomorrow?” his tone sound confused.

“Yes. But coached ask for us today since he’ll be going somewhere tomorrow.”

“Ah, is he going to the seminar too? I heard our school sends some of the teachers for it.” he mentions. He’s part of the student body, so it isn’t surprise anymore that he knows about this things.

“Probably.” Ni-ki sighs and silently cheered as he saw the bus driving close. He gets on right after it stopped in front of him. He clicked his card and sat down at one of the vacant seats.

“I’m really sorry, hyung. I didn’t mean to cancel on this.” he felt really bad. Not because he wanted to go, but he hates it whenever he couldn’t keep his word.

“That’s fine. I understand. I will just tell my girlfriend and her friend about it.” he seemed okay with it. Jungwon knows Ni-ki and he will never make an excuse just to get away on something.

Ni-ki glanced outside the window with blank thoughts. For some reasons, he felt something on his chest because he won’t go on that date. Its a little weird because he’s not really into it. He shrugged it off and focused back on talking to his hyung.

“Tell them I’m sorry too.”

Jungwon assured him that he will let them know which somehow made him felt relieved. He doesn’t want to look like a jerk who just ditch dates. That’s an asshole move. He ended the call with his friend and just spaced out the whole ride towards the school.

On the other hand, you let out a small groan when your friend dragged you towards somewhere. You can’t help but to imagine how good it would’ve been if you just stayed in your house today. Your books are probably waiting for you right now, but instead you are here with your friend. Going to a double date with his boyfriend’s friend.

She always brags about how good-looking his boyfriend is and that his circle of friends are all eye candy. She said none of them are ugly that she finds hard to believe. Well, due to being a book worm and a sucker for love stories, you kind of sets the standard high. Boys in your school find it hard to impress you, and that’s why you can’t seem to see yourself to date.

“I should be just in my room, reading my book.” you mumbled while she continues dragging you.

“No! I won’t let you be miserable today.” she says sounding so determined to make a change in your life.

You rolled your eyes and just let her do what she wants. When you arrived near the place she told you, you looked bored. As you roam your eyes around, you can see a lot of couple around. It seems like its a hot place to date nowadays. Your friend roams her eyes around, probably looking for her boyfriend.

You’ve seen his picture already. But this will be the first time for you to meet him in person and hangs out with him. Usually he just picks your friend at school and stuff. You can say he is pretty attractive. Even some students from your school knows him. Seems like he really is famous. Your friend is very beautiful as well so you can’t really blame him for falling for her.

“Baby!” she screams and even waved her hand crazily. You scoffed and slightly find it funny how she’s like this towards him.

She started dragging her towards somewhere once again. When you looked at the guy she hugged, he is tall, neat, have this pretty eyes and all. Just like how she usually describes him. But he ain’t your ideal type. His visual is too soft for you. You’re more on a mysterious vibes.

“Where’s your friend Ni-ki?” she asks and even tried to look for someone.

Ni-ki? Is that suppose to be the guy she was talking about? No offense but his name sounds like a girl’s name. You sighs and tried to stop yourself from overthinking before you spoil the mood.

Jungwon smiled apologetically and just by that you already figured out what he was about to say next.

“He had an emergency so he couldn’t make it today.” he sounded so sorry.

“What? But y/n is here...” she sounded a bit disappointed. She’s really excited to have you meet his friend, but now its not going to happen because he didn’t come.

A part of you are happy, because now you can escape from here. But a part of you is also pissed because you just wasted your time coming here. Three or four chapters are already finished if you didn’t come.

“It’s fine, (friend’s name).” you gently grab her arm and smiled at the two of them. She pouted at you, feeling bad that she dragged you all the way here for nothing.

When you looked at Jungwon, he's staring at you. He seemed drowned with his own thoughts, but when you met his eyes he then composed himself. You can see how his cheeks tinted red after getting caught staring.

“I’m sorry, y/n. My friend also said sorry. He didn’t really expect that he couldn’t make it today.”

You quickly smiled and assured him that it was alright. He’s not at fault and there’s no reason for you to be upset over him.

“It’s totally fine. You guys enjoy your date. I’ll go stop by at a bookstore.” you waved at him and gave your friend a hug.

“I’m sorry, y/n. If you want you can come with us.” she says pouting.

“No, spend quality time with each other. I’ll be good, don’t worry.” and you tapped her shoulder.

You glanced at Jungwon and you saw him staring at you again. “Keep her safe.” he nodded and reached for your friend’s hand. Honestly, you aren’t worried at all because you are sure that he will take care of her.

She waves cutely before you finally walked away. You suddenly felt annoyed once again, but comforts yourself that you can go stop by at one of the bookstores you wanted to check out.

Suddenly, the thought of that boys name popped out of your mind.

‘Ni-ki...’

You scoffed and tried to shove the thought of it away.

“Waah, you’re painting again?” Ni-ki glanced over his friend when he suddenly appeared at the rooftop where he usually spends his free time. Jungwon have this amused look over his face before plopping himself down beside him.

Ni-ki nodded his head and resumes to what he was doing. He did mention his fondness over sketching and drawing people’s portrait. He just finds it interesting how he can put it into arts. He draws landscapes too, but he’s more on sketching people. For him, he enjoys it because he can notice how different one individual can be.

Out of all the portraits he had drawn, the portrait of the girl in his dreams is his favorite. Funny, because he never seen her before yet her portrait is what he likes the most.

He’s actually pretty sad about it because its been weeks ever since he saw her in his dreams. It doesn’t occur to often, but also not this long. A part of him is worried that she won’t show up anymore and that he’ll slowly forget about what she looks like.

“I can’t wait for later.” Jungwon says with a big smile over his lips, eyes glued at his phone screen.

Ni-ki scoffed and teared his gaze away from his friend. He perfectly knew what’s behind those big smiles of him.

“I’m actually surprised you’re not the one who transferred to her school. You’re the simp in the relationship.” he commented that made him snap his head at his direction. A frown was present over his face that made Ni-ki chuckle.

“No I’m not.” he denied.

“Yeah, and pigs fly.” he says before resuming on scribbling through his sketchbook.

He had practice before class so he went to school very early. He’s actually just got off from practice and he went straight here after taking a bath. His hair is even slightly damp.

“Oh, by the way.” Jungwon catches his attention once again. “Did I mention that her friend transferred with her?”

Ni-ki furrowed his brows. “What friend?” he asks, acting curious before he slowly went back on sketching.

Jungwon sighs, “The one you ditched last month, dude!” he exclaimed, finding it unbelievable how he already forgot abour ‘that friend’.

Ni-ki’s hand halts from moving and he was stoned at his position. For some reasons, he got a weird feeling about it. He felt his chest tightens and stomach churns. He couldn’t explain what it is, but he just shrugged it off thinking that maybe its just because he was too tired of practice.

After a couple of minutes, the bell rang and so both of them went down to their class. The hallway was packed with students trying to hurry themselves towards their respective rooms. Jungwon and Ni-ki arrived at class just in time. They sat down at their chairs and soon enough, their homeroom teacher arrived.

Ni-ki glanced over his friend while he pulls out his notebook and scoffed when he saw how excited he looked.

“Dude, your lips will rip any minute now. Cut it out.” he teased because he was smiling crazy.

Jungwon ignored him and he just shakes his head side by side. His eyes darted towards the front as their teacher started to orient them about the newcomers. He wasn’t surprised about ir anymore because his friend spoiled the news to him already. His gaze dropped down to the notebook and he flip the pages over the back of it. He grabbed his pencil and started sketching.

He can hear all the commotion inside the classroom, but he ignored them when he’s slowly getting drowned with his own world. The face of that girl popped up inside his mind. It was so random but he was used to it. Maybe, Ni-ki is missing her in his dreams already.

“Okay, please come in. Don’t be shy.” you heard the teacher says while you and your friend pushes each other who will go first.

She was left with no choice but to go first because you are too shy. When you both entered you can hear some of the students reaction. This is totally nerve wracking for you. You usually feel anxious around a new environment. When you roam your eyes around, you can see all of them looking at the two of you. It made you feel nervous.

One student tho, caught your attention. Unlike all of them, his focus is at whatever he was doing. For that moment, the teacher talking beside you suddenly became muffled. The boy just have this aura that pulled you to stare at him. You can’t help but to feel your stomach turning. These scenes are pretty familiar for you. As someone who loves reading books, you had imagined experiencing moments like this. To actually have it now is amusing for you.

“Ms. y/n?” you snapped back to reality and your stare got teared from the said boy. You looked over the homeroom teacher and they are staring at her.

You blushed, feeling embarrassed for spacing out. “U-Uhm,” you cleared your throat because you felt it slightly drying. “I’m Y/n L/n.”

They welcomed you warmly and after the teacher gave you few reminders, she started assigning you to your respective seats.

“And y/n, please sit down beside Mr. Nishimura.” she says and you roamed your eyes around to see who she’s referring to.

“Nishimura, raise your hand.” she instructed and your chest almost fell when you saw the boy from a while ago raising his hand. He was still busy with what he was scribbling so he didn’t turn his head to look at you.

The teacher just sighs out and asked you to take your seat. You thanked her and you slowly made your way. The boy still kept his attention to his notebook. When you pass by Jungwon, he gave you a wave and so you waved at him as well.

After settling down beside him, he still didn’t spared you any glance. You pursed your lips into a pout and suddenly, you felt like being friendly. He seemed very quiet and you planned to have a good school year.

“Hello, I’m y/n! I hope you take good care of me.” you said excitedly the moment you sat down beside this quiet kid. You noticed him not paying attention when you introduced yourself and so you did him a favor and repeat it for him.

Ni-ki lifts his gaze and was ready to accept your hand but he was stunned when he saw the exact girl he drew a portrait of. The one in his dreams.

“Hyung! I can’t believe you!” Ni-ki grabbed his hair out of frustration while leaning over the railings.

His friends are all watching him. Some are staring at him in a weird way and some are just smirking. He couldn’t pay attention to them teasing him because he have a much better thing to discuss.

Jungwon silently munches over his food and looked at Ni-ki. “I didn’t know it was her, okay? Maybe that’s why I found her familiar when I first saw her.” he says trying to defend himself.

“Wait, wait. So you’ve known the girl Ni-ki’s delulu about and you didn’t remember her?” Jay tries to summarize everything.

Jungwon frowned, “It’s not like I know her, hyung! I've met her once. The day when I set Ni-ki up a date with her.”

Ni-ki groaned and feel more frustrated. He couldn’t believe that he just missed that opportunity. The fact that he met the girl he was sketching for months and that you suddenly appeared out of nowhere is still unbelievable for him. Its like he’s laying in clouds right now.

Heeseung snorted, “The one you ditched because you have practice?” he asks Ni-ki and the boy just nodded his head. He and Jake laughed even more, giving each other's shoulders tugs.

“Ugh! What am I going to do? She seems upset when she heard my name. She didn’t talk to me after that too!” Ni-ki stated that earned more chuckles from his hyungs. They were clearly enjoying teasing the youngest. They’ve never seen him this stressed over something like this.

“Well, you’re already a bad shot that’s for sure.” Sunghoon says with a smirk.

Ni-ki stayed silent as his mind slowly and stared blankly. He looked pretty funny for his friends. Sunoo sighed and rolled his eyes while the others kept on teasing Ni-ki.

“What are your plans now, Ni-ki?” he asks. Out of all of them, he’s the one who seems pretty determined to help him first rather than laughing at his misery. They said real friends do that often. Sunoo’s real with Ni-ki, he just left that job to their other friends. He felt bad for him, he really is bothered about it.

“What do you mean?” the younger one looked clueless.

Sunoo rolled his eyes again.

“We all know how much you’re into her. Now, we may not understand how did it happened that the girl you are sketching which you never seen before, just happen to really exist, but what do you plan to do?” he stated.

Ni-ki is just listening carefully to him.

“She’s a new meat and you know what happens whenever there’s a new face at the campus.” Sunoo smirked. The boys got his point right away.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure she’ll be the talk of town for a while.”Jay.

Ni-ki furrowed his brows lightly and realized that they were right. That’s what usually happened. Now, he got more things to worry about.

“What about Jungwon hyung's girl? She’s new too.” he stated.

That made Jungwon furrow his brows. “They all know she’s very much taken so nobody would dare to even try.”

“Honestly, all I can think of doing is to make up to her since I ditched her and made myself look like a total jerk.” his tone sounded so stressed.

“That’s a good idea.” Jake stated, he finally managed to say something after laughing at his younger friend.

“Although I couldn’t seem to think what’s your fault since Jungwon already said that you are called in an emergency practice.” Sunghoon.

Ni-ki shrugs his shoulders off and throw his head back, staring at the clouds above them. They looked so peaceful and somehow ease his frustration. He couldn’t think of anything but you. He’s still amused at what just happened. He can’t believe that you actually exist. There’s no definite explanation to any of this. At the back of his mind, he do wish you are true. But now that he had come face to face to you, he can’t help but to have mixed emotions.

“I should’ve went there and told her myself that I was called in.”

“You were running late already that time, man.” Heeseung.

“Then be it.” the firmness of his tone just made them realized that he is sincerely sorry of what happened.

“What? Nishimura Riki? Will have himself late for basketball practice just so he can tell a girl that he’s called in?” Sunghoon's smirk are wide and wildly teasing. He let out a big sigh.

“Waah, is that really you? Basketball dude. We’re talking about basketball here.” he added.

Ni-ki rolled his eyes and his ears are starting to get red. His friends are well aware of how fond he is over to the girl in his sketches, now it just shows how much he really is into her. And he even just saw her today. Even him think its a little crazy.

On the other hand, you are thinking of Ni-ki as much as he’s thinking of you. His face truly is ethereal. The visual can pass as someone stripped out from one of the books you have read. His proportions are perfect as well, tall and long legged. His aura is slightly mysterious as well, although you still find it odd how he reacted when he looked at you a while ago.

Maybe because he knew he stood you up before. You scoffed lightly. You aren’t really mad about him and you know he isn’t at fault. But you can’t help but to feel a bit of disappointed, because that’s the first time you actually tried to go on a date with someone. You thought that fate already made a move on not making you two meet that time. Maybe that’s already a sign.

“He’s good looking, isn’t he? I told you!” she’s been talking about this one for 15 minutes already.

You can’t help but to roll your eyes. Ni-ki is indeed very good looking, but of course you won’t say that. She will surely tease you so much and you don’t need it for today.

“Do you like him?” she sounded like she’s expecting so much from your answer. Her eyes sparkles in excitement.

You stared at her in disbelief, “Do you actually think that I will like someone just because they’re good looking? Books don’t raised me to be like that.”

Instead of showing a disappointed expression, her smiled grew bigger and started pointing at you like she caught you or something.

“So you do think he is good looking!”

You got stunned by what she said. It was too late to realize what you have said and you can’t take it back or else you will look defensive.

“Whatever.” You just looked down your lunch and started to silently eat it. She started to tease you, but you chose to ignore her.

When you both returned to class, you felt so nervous of seeing him again. You actually don’t understand why, but you just did. Some of your classmates greeted you and you smiled at them, a little shy. Your eyes darted at your seat and the chair beside it is vacant.

You walked over and you even saw Jungwon rushing his way to his girlfriend. You sat down and your eyes took a short glance at Ni-ki’s seat. For an unknown reason, you felt a little sad. You shrugged it off and just grabbed your textbook for the next class.

“Hi y/n!” your eyes darted over to the guy who approached your table. He’s one of your classmates and also part of Ni-ki’s circle. Jungwon introduced the two of you a while ago to his friends, so you know.

You flash him a small smile and your eyes follows his hand as he put a banana milk on your desk. You stared at it a bit, confused then you eyed him.

“I’m Sunoo and that’s from Ni-ki! He asked me to give it to you since they’re called in practice.” he said and your eyes darted back at the banana milk.

The class then started to go seat at their chairs when the teacher for that subject arrived.

“Nice meeting you, bye!” he bid and quickly went to go sit down.

You didn’t even manage to say something to him. While the teacher starts his discussion, your eyes are still glued back to the drink on your desk. You slowly grabbed it and checked the note sticked to it.

‘Hope you enjoy this! :) — Ni-ki’

Your attention was called by your teacher. She asked you and your friend to introduce yourselves because you are new. Then she welcomed you both with a warm smile. After that, she asked you to take a seat so she can start the lesson already.

“Kindly turn your book to page 378.”

As you grab your textbook and start to turn its page, your eyes darted at the drink once again. You scoffed and a ghost smile appeared over your lips before you tried to concentrate to the lesson.

Dismissal came faster than you expected and Ni-ki didn’t showed up in class anymore that whole afternoon. You heard that they’re preparing for the big game and that Ni-ki is actually one of the star players. He really is important in the team. Somehow, you now really understand why he needs to ditch that day.

“Hello,” your heart almost fell when you saw Ni-ki standing right beside you. He’s wearing a plain black shirt and sweats while his duffel bag hangs over his shoulders. His hair looked a little damp, you assume he just finished practice.

You tried to keep your cool and glanced back at your locker. “Hi.” you shortly replied. It made him smile a little.

“Did you receive the banana milk?” he asks and leaned over the lockers. He glanced over the students passing by that greets him.

“Yes. What’s it for?”

He smiles, “I just want to give you one.”

You stared at him for a while before you resumed on arranging your things.

“If this is still about that day, you know you don’t have to give me one.”

He sighs then put his hands inside his pockets. He looked so attractive. Its so crazy to even think of it that way, but its just how it is. You don’t even understand how someone can look this good in just wearing plain black shirt and sweats.

“I know, I just want to.”

You kept his stares at you for a while before you nod your head and glance away. After closing your locker you start walking towards your friend. She’s smiling when she glanced at you and her eyes shifted at the person behind you. That’s when you realized Ni-ki followed you. Your heart races, but you still tried to keep your cool.

“I’ll g-go first. See you guys tomorrow.” you said and gave her a hug. She nods and waved at you telling you to stay safe.

While you’re walking out of the school, you looked over your shoulder because you can still feel someone following you. He smiled innocently and pulled his hand out of his pocket to wave.

“Hi.”

“Are you following me?” you tilt your head over to the side.

“Yes.”

“Why? Do you need anything?”

He pursed his lips, trying to suppress a smile. “Nah, I just want to walk you home. Can I do that?”

You blushed and quickly glanced away like as if you can get answer from somewhere. He kept his stares at you and Ni-ki can’t help but to admire how adorable you look.

“Uhm, I take a bus ride home.”

He nods, “Then I’ll wait for your bus with you. Is that all right?”

Your stomach turns while staring at his innocent looking eyes. The way that he kept asking for permission does something in your heart. How can he looked so intimidating, but be super soft? It’s crazy. You gulped and left with no choice but to let him do it.

He grins and slowly reach for your things so he can help you. That action definitely caught you off-guard, while he looks cool with it. It was almost like he’s very used to doing such things. Is he just really a gentlemen or a playboy? You can’t decide.

You walk beside him, slightly trying your best to keep up. When he noticed, he chuckled softly and stopped so he can wait for you. With a pout, you shoot him glares. “You walk so fast.” you mumble.

He let out another chuckle, “I’m sorry. Let’s go?”

You nodded your head and you both walked towards where your bus usually stops. Ni-ki was the one initiating the conversation which you find very nice because you are shy and you have no idea how to start it. Surprisingly, he isn’t that boring and also not that overwhelming for you. He’s actually very fun to talk to. You cannot believe you actually said it. That he’s fun to talk to.

When you saw the bus driving close, you glanced at him and awkwardly smiled.

“U-Uh, thank you for waiting with me.”

He nodded and gently passes you your bag. “You’re welcome. Get home safe.” and he waved his hand.

You nodded and quickly went to ride the bus. After settling down, you looked over Ni-ki who's still standing where you left him. He glanced at you then smiled when you two met eyes. You signalled him to go and he mouthed something like ‘After your bus left’ and even pointed at the bus.

When the bus started to go, he waved one last time. As it drove away, your mind was left with him. You don’t understand. This was the first time you met Ni-ki and his first impression was even not good for you, then why does it seem like its something else? You can’t point what really is it. All you know is that he made you feel things nobody else does before.

A week has already passed and Ni-ki continued on joining you while you wait for your bus at dismissal. Sometimes he eat lunch with you and your friend, together with their group of friends. They’re all cool and funny. Its obvious how they get along pretty well.

“Here,” your eyes darted over to Ni-ki when he pulls out something from his pocket.

“What..?” he handed you this bookmark that left you a little speechless. It was a sketch of you. The one when you both are studying at the library.

You glanced at him with amused eyes, “Did you draw this?”

He smiled and nodded, “Yes. I told you I do sketches.”

You are still amazed at how good he is so you couldn’t really say anything right away. Your eyes dropped at the pretty bookmare once again and you stared at it. He’s very good, very talented.

“I didn’t know you are this good.”

He chuckles, “Thank you.”

You glanced back at him and smiled, “Thank you for this. I will use this.”

He smirked happily, feeling his heart jumped after knowing you enjoyed and appreciated his small gift for you.

“You better.” he joked that made you chuckle.

As you spend more time with him, the more you get to know Ni-ki. He’s not just amazing, he’s very ideal for you. He’s funny, playful, caring and so much more. You can’t believe you’re actually getting interested over somebody. Fictional characters usually makes you blush, but he’s a real person. He’s real and making your stomach go crazy because of his actions.

“Hi beautiful.” your head snaps over to your side when someone sat down.

A smile quickly made its way over your lips when you saw who it is. It’s Ni-ki and he’s wearing a plain white t-shiry, paired by a black slacks. His hair still a bit damp while he put his duffel bag down at floor. He pulled out a banana milk from it and put it on your table.

“Good morning, how’s practice?” you gently asked and even before you can stop yourself, your hand reached over his hair and softly brush it away from his eyes.

Ni-ki gulped and felt his heart thumping by the affection. You pursed your lips and instantly got shy when your eyes met. You glanced away and pulled your hand away from his hair. He smirks and bite his lower lip.

“It was good. Coach is being a little rough with us tho, because the competition is next month.” he says and you nodded.

“Good luck with your games.” you tried hard to maintain an eye contact even if you can feel your whole face heating up.

“You’ll watch, right?”

Your eyes roamed over his handsome face. They looked so soft, almost hypnotizing you into agreeing to watch his games. You caught your lower lip between your teeth and again, you stretch your hand to brush his hair off.

“Yeah, I’ll watch.” and his stares soften more, if that’s possible. He looked so good. Ni-ki looked so handsome right in front of you. You can’t explain the feeling that you are having right now. It’s uncomfy, how your stomach churns but if he was the reason of it, you’ll want to experience it over and over again.

“Good.” he says and kept the eye contact before gently grabbing your hand to slightly intertwin your hands.

He pulled it closer to his face and placed a small kiss over your hand, “You look so beautiful.” he mumbled.

You gasped lightly and glanced away. He chuckled lightly then he helped you opening the banana milk. Soon enough, your classmates arrived and your day continued. The days passes by too quickly and you just grew closer with Ni-ki.

Another week passed by after that. You mostly spent it with your friend and Ni-ki. He’s usually around you, accompanying you. Some even said that you two are starting to get inseparable. Of course your friend couldn’t stop teasing you about it. She wants you and Ni-ki to be together so bad. Before you get annoyed by her constantly talking about it, but now the idea doesn’t seem to be bad for you. Its just, Ni-ki isn’t saying anything about it. You don’t know if he likes you the way you like him.

“Ni-ki! Valo later?” a smile appeared across your face when you heard a voice from somewhere says that. Soon, you can feel a figure approaching close to you and a hand gently reaching for your bag.

“I don’t know. I’m busy later.” Ni-ki responded. You heard his friend complained about something that he don't join them anymore and somehow you felt guilty, because you clearly know what keeps him ‘busy’.

A hand rests over the small of your back, asking for attention. You turn your head and smiled at him.

“Hi. How’s practice?”

“Good. Was the food good?” he asks curious, his hand now caressing your back gently.

“Yes. Thank your Mom for me.” he gave you lunch a while ago and he said that his Mom cooked it for you.

He nods and smiled then waits patiently until you can go. After a couple of minutes, both of you are off to go at your bus stop. It’s Saturday tomorrow, so you don’t really know what to do. Maybe you’ll just read some books or go out to look for more books.

“What are you up to tomorrow?”

Your head snaps at his direction while the two of you walks side by side. “Nothing. Maybe read some books.” and you even shrug your shoulders off.

“Do you want to go with me?” he glanced away while his ears turns red. He’s incredibly cute so you can’t help but to smile.

“Go with you? Where?”

“Double date.” his eyes dropped over his hands before he slowly raised to look at you.

“Are you asking me out?” your lips almost trembled because of the idea. It excites you.

“Yes.”

You pursed your lips and jokingly squinted your eyes at him, “Do you promise not to ditch me again?”

He chuckles, “I promise.” and even raised his left hand. Your smile fell and you shoot him glares.

“Its suppose to be your right hand!” and you swat his arm. He laughs and fixed it, “Oh my bad, I’m left handed.” he joked.

“So is that a yes?” and he stretch his hand to brush some of your hair off of your face. The slight touch of his skin to yours makes you blush right away.

“Yes.” and you even nodded.

This time, you're the one who reach for his face to pinch his nose lightly.

“All right.” he smiled and held your hand to intertwin your hands.

“Let’s call later?” he asks that made you pout. Your eyes looked over your holding hands. Ni-ki noticed that its a bit cold so he took your hands and put it inside his pocket.

“You should join your friends on playing valo. We’ve been facetiming each other every night.”

He shakes his head, “Nah, I’m not in the mood to play anyway.”

“They’ll start to be suspicious.”

He shrugged his shoulders off, “They know I’m talking to you.”

Your eyes grew a bit big and you blushed just by thinking his friends are aware of it. Ni-ki smirked.

“You’re so beautiful.” he mumbled and just in time, your bus arrived.

Your mind is still occupied even after you ride your bus and it left. His actions and his words all leads to one conclusion, but you still keep yourself from assuming things.

The next day, you woke up early to prepare. You don’t understand, but you are so excited to see Ni-ki. Not that you don’t see him at school, its just different to hang out on weekends.

When you arrived the place where you are suppose to meet the first time, your brows slightly furrowed. All you can see is Jungwon and your friend. No Ni-ki can be seen.

“Where’s Ni-ki? Is he late?” you asked right away.

“Huh? No! He’s...” your friend roamed her eyes around. “right there!” she added.

You looked over your shoulder and saw him walking closer while holding a cup of coffee. He's smiling so big and so you did too, but your eyes trailed down to what he's wearing. It's his jersey.

“You have practice?” you asked, confused.

He nods his head, “I’ll take you with me.”

Your eyes grew big, “To your practice?”

He nodded again, finding you adorable.

“B-But are you even allowed to take me?” you are worried, but you want so bad to go. You’ve never been in their practice.

“Yes. Then after that, we’ll go check some bookstores.” he says excitedly.

“Bookstores?”

He pulled out a piece of paper that shows a list of bookstores around. You pursed your lips into a pout, completely moved over what he did. You hugged him and he was caught off-guard.

“Thank you!”

He broke into a soft smile and dropped a kiss at your forehead, “Anything for you.”

You both bid good-bye to your friend and Jungwon before you walk hand in hand towards the bus stop. Ni-ki assists you to ride and ask you to take a sit while he beep his card to pay for the two of you.

While on the way to school, you enjoy the coffee he ordered for you. He enjoys watching you at the same time. You offered him a sip, but he declined. Soon enough, you both arrived the school. You can barely see people inside, just some maintenance people and some school personels.

You two went straight to the gym. You can already hear the sound of shoes and basketball echoing inside. He gently guided you inside and you started feeling shy when you felt them eyeing you. Once they seen who it was, they started teasing Ni-ki. He can’t help but smile while he guides you at the benches. He sets his bag down beside you and ask if you’re all right. You nodded, despite the blushing cheeks.

“You can watch or read your books.” you nodded and he started jogging towards the court after he took off his plain t-shirt.

You don’t know much about basketball, but surprisingly you enjoyed watching him play. He’s very attentive and you can really tell how he pour everything to things he like doing. He’s full of passion over it.

A loud honk errupted all over the gym, signalling that the practice is now over. Their coach blew the whistle then asked them over. They all approached him and you think he started telling them about the things he noticed. After a couple of reminders, they let them go.

“I’ll just take a quick shower.” he said and you nodded your head before he goes and left you.

While waiting for him, you noticed that a group of players stormed inside. Base on their uniform, they seem like the volleyball team. You didn’t mind them and just busy yourself with your phone.

A pair of shoes caught your attention when it enters your line of sight.

“Hi!” a guy wearing a jersey with a number ‘04’ smiled in front of you. He have this clean haircut and a pretty set of teeth.

“U-Uhm, hello.” you awkwardly greeted.

“Why are you here? Practice? Or waiting for someone who had practice?”

“Waiting for someone.” you answered right away.

He nodded his head while pursing his lips, “Who?”

“Me.” both of you turn your head over to the side.

Ni-ki’s walking closer while having both of his hands inside his pocket, duffle bag hangs over his shoulder and his hair a bit damp. His eyes looked so serious while staring straight to the guy who approached you.

“Nishimura, huh?” he sounds a bit amused.

Your view of him got covered when Ni-ki stood in front of you. He tilt his head, “What do you want?” he asked him straightly.

“What is this? Are you finally over with your dream girl?” his tone taunting him. Your brows furrowed at what he said, confused and curious at the same time as to what he was talking about.

“Shut up.” Ni-ki took advance, but you are quick to grab him by his arm. He glanced at you and his eyes soften.

“Let’s just go.” you plead lightly.

He clenched his jaw hard before he glanced back at the guy. His friends approached closer as well so you somehow you felt at ease.

Thankfully, none of them engaged into a much more trouble and decided to just go leave each other. Ni-ki bid good bye to his hyungs before gently grabbing your hand to take you away. Your mind is still occupied about what that guy said a while ago. The one with Ni-ki’s dream girl. What was that? A part of you felt curious and a part of you doesn’t want to ask about it. You’re afraid to know what his answer would be.

When you arrived at the bus stop, he draws in a strained sigh. He looked a little frustrated.

“I’m sorry that you have to see that.” he apologized, probably referring to him almost getting caught in fight.

You pursed your lips, trying to get rid of that thought and focus on what he is saying right now. “It's f-fine.” was all you can respond.

You wanted to say more, so he wouldn’t caught on you overthinking and stuff, but none came out from your mouth. Your mind couldn’t process anything. Are you that comfortable with Ni-ki that you’ll just let him see through you?

He pursed his lips and sighed once again. You watch him do that and look a bit nervous. He’s obviously holding back on telling you something. It made you nervous as well, what it may be.

“About what he said a while ago,” he started that caught your whole attention. Your thoughts instantly pushed at the back of your mind and the noises around suddenly muffled.

He gulped and his hand plays through your hand that he was holding. Ni-ki’s very nervous to how you will react about this. He knew better than to keep this and make you overthink.

“Promise me first that you won’t find it weird.” he stared straight to your eyes, hopeful.

You nodded your head unconsciously.

“This may sound crazy, but I’ve seen you in my dreams before.” he says and kept his stares at you.

You blinked, confused. Totally confused. You almost think that you’ve heard it wrong or he’s trying to pull a prank on you. But his serious face and the fear in his eyes says otherwise. He’s completely serious, leaving you in wonder of what he was talking about.

“O-Okay..?” you tried to say something that better than it, but you failed.

Ni-ki sighed and lets go of your hand, embarrassed. “You think I’m weird.” he mumbled.

A smile crossed your lips and you quickly took a hold of his hand, now holding it. “No, I don't!” he looked at you and you try hard to suppress a smile.

“You’re laughing.”

That caused a chuckle to escape from your lips, “It’s because you’re cute!” you try to pull him again because he’s trying to turn his back so you wouldn’t see his blushing face.

“Cute? Stop kidding me, y/n.” he says and glanced away, cheeks tinted red and so does his ears.

Soon, your bus arrived so you hold your conversation first. Both of you went inside and sat down at a vacant chairs. He was still avoiding your eyes and you’re trying to catch them.

“So, you dreamt of me?” you tried opening the topic again. He groaned, embarrassed still.

“If you’ll just going to make fun—”

“No! I’m really curious about it. I promise, I’m not making fun of you.” and you tried to look as serious as you can. He sighed and nodded his head.

“How do I look like in your dreams? Do I look just like this?” you asked, curious.

He stared at you, his embarrassment now long forgotten. His eyes stared over your eyes, down to your nose, your cupid's bow and your lips. He carefully scanned each and every one of your features, admiring them.

“You looked more beautiful in person. My drawings can’t do justice in that face of yours.” he said in a very sincere and serious tone.

This time, you’re the one to get shy because of his compliment. He always tell you that you’re pretty, but this time its a little more intimate. You can’t help but to blush a bit more than normal.

Ni-ki took your silence as an opportunity and gently held your hand. Your eyes dropped over them for a while before you glanced back to his eyes.

“I don’t want you to think that I liked you only because you look like the girl in my dreams. I admit, that was one of the reason why I got interested, but you as a person is what made me like you.”

“You l-like me?” you are totally caught off guard.

He smirked then chuckled, “Isn’t it obvious?” he then leaned over to give your cheeks a light kiss. “I like you very much.”

“When are you going to show me your drawings?” you asked him one afternoon. You’re at the rooftop, hanging out since its your vacant hour. He decided to take you here with him. He says its his most favorite spot in school and he’s sharing it with you because you’re his most favorite person.

“Probably soon, baby.” he glanced at you and smiled when he saw your pout before leaning in to give you a kiss at your cheeks.

“But I want to see it.”

“Soon.” he gave your cheeks a light tap before he continues to draw again. This time, you sighed and just let it slide. You don’t want to force him even if you’re already dying out of curiosity.

Its already been two weeks ever since you knew about these drawings and Ni-ki’s confession. You haven’t told him yet that you like him as well, you’re waiting for a perfect time.

You focused on reading once again. You read one sentence. Read it again. Again. And again. You put your book down when you realized you couldn’t understand anything. Ni-ki on the other hand looked too hooked over his drawings. A smile forms your lips just by watching him too focused. He looked so ethereal. How can he call you pretty all the time when he’s the one looking like this?

While you’re spacing out, you had come up with a bright idea to confess toda with Ni-ki. Of course, you don’t want it to be just plain. So you came up with a plan to take Ni-ki to your special place.

“Do you want to go with me later?”

He lift his gaze from his sketchbook towards you, “Where are you taking me?” he even gave you this funny face, like as if he’s scared and that you’re planning something horrible to him.

You rolles your eyes and leaned in to place a peck over his cheeks, “Don’t be dramatic. I’ll tell you where later.” you stood up and flattened your skirt, Ni-ki helped on fixing it because it strides up while you’re sitting.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“Going to buy something and look for (friend’s name). You want something?”

He shakes his head, “Do you want me to come with you?”

You told him you’re good and he just nodded his head. Ni-ki have no clue that you are planning to confess to him. You are too excited when you told your friend about your plan and she was as excited as you. She thinks the two of you are perfect for each other.

“Bye, y/n!” she waves and smiles meaningfully at you.

Ni-ki nods at her way and to his hyung while putting his arms around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. You are waiting for the bus because you told him you will take him somewhere. He even teases you that you are planning something to him which you just respond with an eye roll.

“So where are we going?” he asks for nth time when you rode the bus.

“Can you just stop asking and wait?” you spat at him that made him chuckle.

“All right. I can’t help but to feel excited, this is the first time you asked me out on a date.”

You gave him a teasing smile, “Who said this is a date?”

His smile fell, “Okay, I’m going down at the next stop.”

You chuckled and grabbed his arm tighter, “I’m kidding! You’re such a baby.”

He smirked and leaned his cheek at you, asking for a kiss. You rolled your eyes and gave in, giving him a peck before you two slowly talk about something.

Arriving at your stop, Ni-ki furrowed his brows when you took him at a memorial park. He didn’t ask anything and just followed behind silently. He held your hand tighter when he noticed how your eyes flashes sadness and longing.

You glanced at his direction after you felt him tugging your hand. The worry over his eyes touches your heart. “Let’s go.” and you started pulling him towards the grave of one of the most important person in your life. Your Dad.

“Hi Dad!” you smiled and waved before you crouched down to take out some leaves all over his gravestone. Ni-ki didn’t waste any time and quickly helped you. A warm smile spread across your face.

“Hello, Sir. I’m Nishimura Riki.” he introduced himself and even bowed.

Your eyes got teary just by seeing him paying respect. You draws in a big sigh then glanced at your Dad’s grave.

“Remember when I cried here, Dad? Because I feel like nobody will take care of me and love me. Well, I am back.” you smiled as your eyes heats up and form tears. “But this time I’m with Ni-ki.” you looked over him and he’s staring at you with that worried and affectionate eyes of his.

You laid your hand and he hold your hand tightly before placing a sweet kiss. “He takes care of me, Dad.”

Ni-ki leaned in and kissed your cheeks this time before turning to your Dad��s grave. “You don’t have to worry about her too much, Sir. I will make sure she’s okay. I will take care and love her with all of me.”

Your eyes grew a bit big and you stared at him in awe. He smiled and raised his hand to wipe your tears away.

“I love you.” he said sincerely that made you teary even more.

“I love you too, Ni-ki.” this time, it was his turn to be surprised.

He cupped your face, “Say it again.”

You chuckled, “I love you.”

“I love you more.” and he lean to give you a peck over your lips. He pulled away after a couple of kisses then he rests his forehead at yours.

“Do you think your Dad will be mad that I kissed you?” that made you chuckle so you pull away a bit to look at his eyes.

“I guess so.” you joked and this time, you leaned in to give him a kiss. Ni-ki closed his eyes and even followed your lips for more.

“That’s her. She kissed me.” and he even pointed at you like a kid.

You rolled your eyes and you rest your head over his shoulder. The two of you stayed like that for a while. After that, you pulled Ni-ki to the place near the memorial park, its like a cliff where you can see the whole city lights below.

You walked over the railings and you let the breeze blew over your hair while you stare blankly at the pretty view. On the other hand, Ni-ki was stunned. He was stoned at his position while he stare at you. This scene is very familiar to him.

You glanced over him as the air blow over your hair and Ni-ki’s heart thumped faster. It was the scene in his dreams. Now, he was certain that it was really you and he was destined to meet you.

He smiled, a tear left his eye before he caged you in a tight embrace. He enjoys his passion and the art he was doing, but you made him fell deeper to it. You are his favorite art piece and now, his favorite person.

main master-list

greek myth master-list

[naminethewriter]

Monstrously Simple Days at College

Chapter Six: Entirely Scientific Interest

Masterpost | First | Previous | Ao3

Story Summary: Humans and Monsters live together in harmony and that means they all get to go to college together. Roman, Remus, Janus, Virgil, Logan and Patton are big group of friends that may be a bit chaotic with all the different monster cultures they hail from. College itself is hard too, but with them all supporting each other, it can’t be that bad, can it?

Content Warnings: Remus starts a discussion about genitalia, comparing the differences between their monster species, it slips in some innuendos but there is no sexual content

~~*~~

Cultural Exchange is a course every single student at the college is required to take. Be they human or monster, there are no exceptions. The goal of the course is as it says in the name: to learn about the cultures of different people. The humans may only be one species, but they are so widespread that their cultures differ greatly even over relatively small distances, while there are many different species of monsters that do have some cultural differences even within their specific species but not as much variety as humans as a whole. So, there is a lot for both sides to learn.

With as many students as there are, there are several classes going on at once and thankfully for them, Roman, Remus, Logan, Janus, Virgil and Patton were all assigned to the same one. There is one big group project that everyone has to complete and that is to research one culture not represented in the group decided by drawing lots.

They got assigned sirens this time and everyone was happy with that selection. Merfolk in general tend to keep to themselves, but sirens even more so. Unlike what the legends usually say, they use their singing as a defense mechanism. With the continued intermingling of species however, an effort has been made to learn more about merfolk and in turn sirens, so there is some research for the group to fall back on.

Especially Logan and Janus are eager to learn, with the former being simply fascinated by any new knowledge and the latter because his entire nature directs him to gather as much information as possible.

Right now, Roman, Virgil, Janus, Logan and Remus are waiting for Patton in the room they have booked to plan their project. Patton has texted them his apologies for running late but offered to bring them coffee, so they had texted him their orders.

Roman and Virgil are passing the time on their phones, while Janus stares boredly off into space. Logan however is trying to get their partner to stop drawing crude pictures on the whiteboard.

“Remus, this is an inappropriate place for you to draw penises,” he sighs.

“Why’s that?” Remus asks, a smirk on its lips saying they know full well why.

“This is a classroom, meus, not your sketchbook.”

“Why does that matter?! Penises have their place in a classroom.”

Logan raises one of their eyebrows. “How so?”

“Simple anatomy, of course! And they’re different for all of us!” She begins a new drawing next to the penis he already drew. “Look, human cocks have different heads than us dragons! We’re more spear-like and they’re harder, too. Plus there’s some scales along ours.”

“Fascinating,” Logan murmurs as they closely study Remus’ drawings, apparently now fully convinced of their scientific merit.

“Aaaand, ours don’t just hang lose like we’re just begging for them to get damaged. We have sheaths.”

“I was aware of that. In fact, most monster species have them. It’s an interesting similarity between such a variety of biologies.”

“Witches are the same as humans, right?”

“Remus, do you have to ask your partner about their genitals when I’m in the same room?” Roman complains, gagging over her phone.

“It’s simple anatomy, my dear,” Janus chimes in, grinning like Cheshire cat. “Their interest is purely scientific. Weren’t you listening?” Roman gives him a blank look but doesn’t feel like commenting further, so instead she taps on Virgil’s shoulder to show them a meme she just found. Virgil looks over and pulls out on of their earbuds to talk to her about it, the two of them dissolving into their own little world.

Logan ignores their interruption and keeps their attention on Remus. “Indeed. Physically we are the same as humans, but we differ in our spiritual makeup. Though I could alter my form however I please with the right spells.”

“Oh, kinda like Janny then, right? Since you can just shapeshift at will?” Remus turns directly to Janus for that second part who’s studying his nails with disinterest now that the subject of his teasing is preoccupied.

“In a way. My form right now is not my default, and I can have pretty much any parts I want.”

“Truly fascinating,” Logan says as they lean closer, watchful eyes studying Janus’ form. “I was aware of this being a chosen form but not to what extent.”

“Well, it’s not like I can do whatever I want,” Janus clarifies, fully turning towards them. “I can’t change my hair color or grow my limbs longer. But since we sphynxes don’t really have a sex as most others, I’m not as restricted there.”

“But most sphynxes are perceived to be women, right?” Logan wonders, tilting his head as he tries to recall whatever information he has read about them so far.

“Most of my kind would choose ‘woman’ as the label for them before ‘man’, yes. But few actually care. I am pretty much an outlier there.”

“You’re so lucky you don’t have to worry about STDs and pregnancy shit,” Remus sighs. “Interspecies protection is such a hassle to keep track of.”

“What do you mean, he doesn’t have to worry about such things?” Logan asks, their brow furrowed.

“Well, you know how we don’t really know how sphynxes reproduce, right? They keep it this big secret for only them to know.” Remus waits for Logan to nod before continuing its explanation. “Since they do it in that mysterious way we don’t know about, they are completely incompatible with our reproduction systems, so they can’t get pregnant, can’t get anyone else pregnant and don’t even contract the diseases that correlate to genitals.”

“My form is simply an imitation on the most basic level,” Janus adds, grinning at Logan’s stumped expression. “On a genetic level, I am completely different from you. We don’t have the same cells at all. So I can’t get sick with most of the common diseases or really transfer them either.”

“I will need to have an in-depth discussion with you on this subject sometime,” Logan insists, their eyes practically glowing with curiosity.

“Earn it,” Janus says simply. They are all used to the sphynx’s challenges, so Logan’s face simply morphs from curious to determined and he nods.

“I will.”

Remus meanwhile grew bored of their conversation and hones in on his brother’s other partner.

“Hey, Virgy! What about yours?”

“What about my what?” Virgil asks, not having paid much attention since they were focused on Roman.

“Your penis!” Remus calls delighted, hoping to get a fun reaction. Behind Virgil, Roman pulls a face but doesn’t try to interject again.

Virgil pauses for a moment, staring at Remus who simply stares back.

“Why do you think I have one?”

They actually manage to dumbfound Remus with that one as it takes it a second to respond.

“You don’t?”

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. How would you know, you’ve never seen me naked.”

“You offering?” Remus grins, having recovered quickly but Virgil simply shows them the finger. “Boo, you’re no fun.”

“Stop trying to get at my partners’ private parts, Remus!” Roman groans. “Can we change the topic, please?”

“Just don’t engage, darling, you’re only going to rile her up more,” Janus purrs, hopping off of the table he’s been lounging on. He walks over to his partners and leans closer to Roman, grinning. “Instead, let’s talk about when you’re going to taste my dust again.”

Roman slips her phone back into her pocket to fully focus on her boyfriend immediately.

“Oh, please, you won last time only because I wasn’t feeling well then.”

“Keep telling yourself that, dear. Maybe you’ll believe it eventually,” Janus teases, his wings shuddering behind him in anticipation of another flying race already. Roman’s wings similarly shift behind her, though she is careful with the left practically leaning on Virgil, who looks at them, annoyed.

“Not this again,” they groan. “Just leave me out of it, please.”

“But we need a referee, sweetheart!” Janus pouts dramatically and not at all sincerely. “You can’t just leave us hanging!”

“Oh please,” Virgil scoffs, pushing Janus away from them when he tries to lean closer to them with his puppy eyes. Janus is rooming with Patton, he’s learned a lot about looking like a kicked puppy, but Virgil wouldn’t be swayed. “You don’t listen to me anyway and 9 out of 10 times you need photographic evidence to see who won. I am utterly unnecessary.”

“How dare!” Roman gasps, taking Virgil’s phone out of their hand to grab it instead and hold it close. “How could my wonderful knight ever think they’re unnecessary! You are most integral, no matter what! Even if your presence is simple moral support, you’re doing your part!”

Virgil’s face turns slightly purple and they pull their hand back, mumbling something incoherent under their breath. They look over to Remus and Logan, hoping they weren’t paying attention and thankfully they weren’t as they were now discussing what looked like a drawing of an anatomically correct heart.

“You could also just join the race. Maybe your speed has increased since the last time,” Janus teases and Virgil’s head snaps back to him, the purple tint on their cheeks becoming stronger.

“Oh, shut up,” they grumble.

“Stop teasing them, Janus,” Roman chides lightly, but her grin shows that she’s enjoying teasing their partner just as much. “Their bat form is just not made for racing.”

“It would definitely win an adorableness contest though.”

“Oh, for sure.”

“Shut up, both of you!” Virgil whines, hiding in the collar of their cloak.

“Uhhhh, what are we teasing the emo about?” Remus asks as it bounds over, grinning delightedly.

“Remus,” Logan sighs but doesn’t otherwise interfere.

“You don’t get to tease, that’s partner privilege,” Roman says, sticking her tongue out at her brother who returns the gesture.

“We were talking about racing actually, Remus. Want to join sometime?” Janus offers and Remus’ eyes brighten immediately.

“Fuck yeah!”

“Nooo, you’re just going to cheat!”

“Am not!”

“So are!”

“I guess we do need you to referee after all, darling,” Janus purrs at Virgil with a sly smile as the twins continue to bicker and Logan tries fruitlessly to get them to stop.

Thankfully for them, that’s when the door opens and Patton finally tumbles in.

“Sorry, kiddos!” he huffs, placing the palette of coffee orders on a table. “The coffee shop was super full and the barista looked on the verge of tears so I offered to help her out for a few minutes until the line was under control. But I got a nice discount on the drinks and a bagel as a thank you!”

“Thank you for buying us coffee, Patton,” Logan says as he grabs the cup marked for him, as well as Remus’. The others also say their thanks as the drinks get distributed and they all enjoy a few sips.

“Oh yeah, Pat! I have a question!” Remus announces suddenly.

“Sure, kiddo, shoot!”

“Is your dick furry?”

“Oh, for the love of gold, Remus! Shut up!”

[thedoover-if]

THE EX ROUTE IS GOING TO KILL ME, WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO US😭😭

IM SORRY😭 to be fair id never forgive cheating but in games i usually always let it slide so i really wanted to have a ro where it feels very vulnerable to not only move on but also allow oneself to fall in love AGAIN... i think itll be a very interesting dynamic to explore (and i love drama LOL love when authors rip my heart to shreds and then stomp on the pieces too)

fyi youll be able to be hesitant, fearful or whatever OR you can cheat with them, not caring for their current partner and be like rory from gilmore girls where she's like "dean was mine first" (iykyk!!!!)

added a little snippet of a potential scene ive got planned with MC on 'the ex' ro route. call it a little taster LOL (under the cut)

(fyi its from the pov of an MC who still involuntarily feels something for the ex)

“don’t do that,” you spit, gaze slowly travelling down your ex-spouse’s frame. they’re seated on the opposite side of the living room, on the same exact sofa they used to occupy – be it during game nights, movie nights, or simply weekends spent quietly enjoying each other’s company. it felt like the perfect fit. they were the unique key to your lock. the gentle notes on your sometimes out of pitch days… until the music abruptly came to a halt, never to be played again. and ever since that day, three years ago, your life has been muted – dulled even. “do what?” they tilt their face up, and for a moment you’re transferred back in time. but you snap yourself out of it just as quickly; you refuse to go down that path again. although you’re stood a few metres away, you’re able to make out a shapely outline – it's you – on the otherwise empty page of the sketchbook propped on their lap. “you’re drawing me – I don’t want you to draw me.” “why can’t I? you look beautiful.” the stupidly crooked smile creeping upon their features is like a stab to the heart, and those last three words shove the knife straight through your body. just like that, your lungs implode – you’re in too deep. a tsunami of emotions rips open every old wound you nurtured close so carefully over the past months. the hours spent in therapy, flushed down the drain by a sweet compliment. soured by the wrong person. “because that’s what you did when you were with them. when I see you doing this, it makes me think about every night you lied.” your throat grows tight, your vision blurs, and yet you continue, “every night you spent with [redacted] while I was right here… waiting.” for seemingly the first time, you notice sun rays peeking through your beige curtains. it’s almost like the sun has sensed the devastation ongoing in the pit of your stomach, and so with each passing second of your skin soaking up the warm orange beams, the grey clouds inside your head clear more and more. it takes one large breath to relax the tightness of your vocal cords, before you’re able to force a sound out. “you really hurt me [redacted]…” as soon as a look of regret takes over [redacted]’s otherwise painfully gorgeous face, a small flame of hope lights up in your body – one you didn’t grant permission. it’s soothing… and familiar, yet you starve that spark and let it die. “you drawing me like that – it hurts because you know I’ll like it… and that’s not fair, [redacted]” you whisper, before standing tall, a surge of determination coursing through your veins, “I’m not going to let you do this to me again.”

[prettyiwa]

I do not authorize the translation or reposting of my work.

(previous) Relationship: Miyuki Kazuya x F!Reader Rating: SFW Content Tags: POV Miyuki Kazuya, Childhood Best Friends to Lovers, Soulmates (if you squint), Brief Mention of Grief, Adolescent Teasing, Light Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hints of Jealousy, One (1) Instance of Profanity (guys, it's me.), Concerned Miyukis (Toku makes an appearance), the Author Has Unrealistic Expectations About Seating on Public Transit, Reference to Kazuya's Name Etymology Summary: What are best friends for if not dragging into playing catch or forcing to model for your art? Word Count: 3,100

A/N: Let me know if you'd like to be tagged for future updates. I cannot promise a timeline/schedule for when they'll be published, but the option's there if you want it.

@tyga-lily, @no1frogfan, @bajiissofine (since you'll be reading the first in a bit)

He forgets how old both of you were, but it was around the time you were learning how to ride a bike. It was you who went first, terrified and unable to find your words. Absolutely petrified. Maybe your nerves carried over but he remembers feeling antsy, too. All he really knows is, you started calming down when he ran alongside the bike—as fast as he could, anyway. He shouted at you and you heard him clearly, despite high emotions and adrenaline.

I’m right beside you.

When it was his turn, you said the same thing.

Age 13 (Almost 14) | August 23

With the exception of you sitting on the benches next to his bag, Kazuya’s alone on the practice grounds. The upperclassmen left a while ago, uninterested in bettering themselves beyond regular practice, and the players in his year left not too long after. Adults still hover at the top of the hill, chatting with one another before they’ll eventually head home, taking the remaining teammates with them, but he’s not counting on them. They aren’t gonna help him keep practicing, so he’s not worried about them. It makes things difficult, but not impossible.

You’re here, so it’s definitely not impossible.

Kazuya approaches you, calling your name, unable to stop his grin from growing. You look up from your sketchbook with a smile of your own, but it drops the moment he tosses the ball into the air. By the time he’s caught it, your smile has turned into a frown and your nose is back in your book.

“C’mon. Just ten more minutes. Play with me for ten minutes.”

“I don’t want to play with you for ten more minutes because it’s never just ten minutes.”

“Okay… what do you want to do, then? Can’t be as fun as playing baseball.” He knows what you’d rather be doing, you art nerd, but he’ll ask anyway.

“I’d rather be drawing.”

“Ha! I knew it, art nerd!”

Your brows scrunch together and he can almost hear you call him baseball geek before his coach calls out to you both, interrupting whatever you were gonna say.

“Hey! Are you kids coming along? It won’t be light out for much longer.”

That catches your attention, making you jump to your feet to address him. Offering a slight bow, you call out, “We’ll be okay to travel alone.” Kazuya’s smirk grows again, knowing you’d only say that if you planned on helping him anyway. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t push himself too hard. Thank you!”

Coach seems satisfied, but Namikawa’s dad isn’t.

“What about your mothers? Won’t they worry?”

Even though it’s supposed to be hot, late summer, it feels cold. Kazuya looks at you and notices the way you freeze up. Coach leans over and Kazuya knows what he’s saying, even without hearing it. Your shared reality for the last six years, but it bothers you a whole lot more than it bothers him.

Your grip around your sketchbook tightens and his smile is gone when he shouts back, “We’re fine. My dad knows where we are. You guys shouldn't wait for us.”

“Kazuya, you’re being kinda rude,” you mutter, turning to face him. He doesn’t like the way your smile’s disappeared.

“I don’t care about that.”

Coach doesn’t either, it looks like, because he bids you both good evening, reminding Kazuya that practice starts later tomorrow.

You return to your spot on the bench and he stands there a bit longer, wondering why people have to make things into something they’re not. What would it have mattered what your guys’ moms think? It doesn’t since they don’t. Glancing your way, he sees that you’re still frowning and he remembers it’s always been a little harder on you, especially since your dad won’t do anything to help, but there’s not a whole lot he can do about that.

Tossing the ball into the air, he catches it, again and again, higher and higher each time.

“Stop moving so much.”

He catches the ball once more, looking over at you, watching him from just atop your sketchbook. Again.

“I can’t stop moving,” he says, tossing the ball up, up, up. “I’m practicing.”

“You don’t even have to practice right now. You did that for three hours already. It’s just you.”

You’re still moping, so he decides to goad you, just a bit. “This’ll go faster if you pick up the ball and help.”

Glaring at him, you scoff. “How could that possibly help?”

“If I get used to your crappy and wild pitches, I’ll be able to catch anything.”

That does it. His smile returns in full when you close your sketchbook and almost slam it down beside you, looking like you want to fight.

“I’m going to end you, baseball geek.”

He can’t contain his laughter, not when your pride prevents you from taking any slight lying down. “Practice with me and then you can sketch all you want.”

“Alright. Fine. Jackass.”

He laughs again as you start to warm up your shoulder, but your scowl only deepens. He knows that once you get going, you’ll actually enjoy playing with him—getting you to start is always the hard part. He doesn’t understand why, especially since it didn’t use to be like this. You used to enjoy playing with him and do it willingly. But things change, he supposes. Like what Akari said yesterday (though he’s pretty sure she only said it to annoy Kazuya). Her comment festers and he tries to remember how you reacted and it’s enough for him to laugh again.

“So vulgar! How do you expect to make other friends or find a boyfriend with a mouth like that?!”

For a couple of minutes you don’t say anything, focusing on warming up while shooting him a withering glare once or twice. You raise your hand to ask for the ball, catching it without flinching or looking away and it makes him excited.

“I make friends fine.” There’s a crawling under his skin when you say that, a light itch that doesn’t really go anywhere. He opens and closes his mitt, hoping you’ll throw your first pitch and he can forget about it. “No one would even want me to be their girlfriend so long as you’re around.”

Or not. You could say that and the itching could get worse and it could feel like something heavy’s twisting his stomach. The dropping in his chest reminds him of those dreams he sometimes has where he’s falling.

He shouldn’t have asked.

You throw your first pitch with more control than you usually exhibit. He doesn’t have a retort or a compliment to offer and he thinks he can hear Akari laughing at him. “So what? You want me to stop hanging around as much?”

You catch the ball he throws your way and he can tell that, at the very least, you aren’t upset at the question about your mom anymore. He sees it in your eyes as you wind up—you don’t even have to say it. He hears you clearly simply by being the person to catch your pitches. Harder than you usually do and with better aim than you usually have. Maybe his comments went too far this time.

Waiting until you have the ball again, you answer before you throw. “No. I’d rather be friends with you than have some boyfriend.”

It’s like you’re spitting the word, like it’s the worst insult he could’ve thrown your way, but he doesn’t care. That twisting stops and the itching does, too. The way the ball nestles into his mitt tells him you’re still mad, but it’s hard to focus on that because his heart stops completely, turning him cold before burning him up. Heat spreads across his face and he feels dumbfounded until you call out to him, expecting the ball.

Throughout the rest of your practice, you don’t say much more, letting your pitches speak for you. That’s fine—your words won’t stop replaying in his ears anyway. All in all, he shouldn’t push you. You’re not an actual pitcher, despite the promise you show and the way the girl’s team would probably love to have you. It’s getting dark but he likes this.

He likes playing like this with you. No matter how much of a fuss you make, you always end up having fun, too. He likes that he can understand you perfectly when you throw the ball his way. It reminds him of when things were a little bit easier. The natural light is running out and you complain that you’re getting hungry, meaning he can’t keep this up much longer.

The distance between the field and the bus stop seems shorter than usual, filled with him trying to get you to admit you had fun, no different from any other time you two do this. He gets nothing but non-answers and he knows you’re still annoyed with him, so it’s no surprise when you pull out your sketchbook the moment you two are seated on the bus.

At first, you don’t mind when he leans on you, looking over your shoulder as you touch up what you had been working on earlier. Most of the pages are filled with him, but he spots his teammates there as well. The bus continues on its route and gradually empties as it always does around this spot at this time of night and you push him away.

“Hey, what’s that for?”

“Shut it. I want to draw you. You said I could.”

He sighs, giving up whatever fight he planned on giving. It’s not the worst thing ever and he kinda likes the attention you give him, especially since it means you won’t be angry with him for as long. As you try to steady the pages, you end up lowering your sketchbook and he gets caught on the fact that you’re using the purple pencil again. You always seem to use it when you draw him, but he can see Namikawa and his coach in orange and red at the bottom of the page, just beneath your hand.

“You always draw me in purple, but you draw Namikawa in orange.”

“Okay?”

You don’t stop sketching, only looking up for reference. He knows that look—like you’re not only seeing him, but seeing through him. Sometimes he hates that look, but he imagines it can’t feel that much different when you sit at his games and practices.

“Why?”

“Why…? Why do I draw you using purple?” Your brows scrunch together and your tongue peeks out as you try to get the lines just right.

“Yeah. Why not orange or red?”

“Because you’re not.”

“I’m not what?”

“You’re not orange or red. You’re purple.” Spoken like the truth. Something known, like the depth of the Mariana Trench being over 11,000 meters or that the sun will always set and that he’ll seek out baseball when it rises again or that you’ll call his name and he’ll come running. Kazuya doesn’t quite understand how you’ve made this your truth.

As if you can feel his confusion, you look up, properly. Your face relaxes and you tilt your head back before saying, “You’ve always been purple. Does it really bother you?”

Again, you say it like it’s a fact.

But he considers your question and comes to the conclusion that it doesn’t bother him. Not really. “I guess not.”

Nodding before returning to the page, you take a moment before speaking again. “Kazuya, I don’t remember asking since we were kids.”

“Asking what?”

“What’s your favorite color?”

“Oh.”

What a silly question, but you’re an artist, so it makes sense that you’d ask him something like that. While he thinks, wondering whether he even has a favorite color, you grab his chin and move back into position.

“Uh, I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it.”

“What about orange?”

It’s a nice color. Reminds him of summer and how hot it gets and how much fun he has. It reminds him of you a little bit. “I like it. It’s warm.”

“It is. It’s connected to sunshine and happiness.”

“No kidding? What about red?” He likes that, too, but it’s everywhere. Not that it’s a bad thing, but there has to be a reason for that.

You hum, tilting your head to the side before answering. “Protection and strength, I think.”

“What about purple?”

Why do you think he’s always been purple?

“Well… it was hard to get, for dye and paint and stuff, so only royalty and people at the top had access to it—”

He laughs and you pull him into position again. “What, so you think I’m some kind of royal?”

It’s your turn to laugh, and it’s the infectious kind that drags him in, too. Your pencil pauses for a moment and you look at him. “No, you idiot. Maybe it’s because of your name or because you’re jersey number two on the field. I don’t know. I mean, I can’t think of anyone who’s all that better at catching than you.”

There’s a catcher that comes to mind, but he can’t be bothered to think of him when you give a compliment like that. Even if you tell him you don’t know a thing about baseball (which is an absolute lie) and you tell him that your opinion on the sport shouldn’t matter, it does. You continue your thought and he’s unable to put away his cheeky smile.

“I read somewhere that purple sometimes means strength and drive. I don’t know. That all seems like you.”

“I suppose so.” You return his smile before gently closing your sketchbook, denying him the opportunity to see how much progress you’ve made. The bus comes to a stop and he follows you off it, happy when you take a moment to wait for him instead of just going ahead. “So… what’s your favorite color?”

You glance in his direction before taking a step in the direction of home. “Purple.”

“Oh, so you draw me purple because it’s your favorite color and I’m your favorite person.”

“No!” He snickers at your reaction, at the playful way you push his shoulder, glad to have pushed the right button at least once today. “Purple’s my favorite color because I’m always drawing you and you’ve always been purple.”

His words die on his tongue and he can’t tell why. He wants to respond (maybe tease you some more) but he can’t find any words. A smirk forms on your lips, happy that he’s being quiet. The two of you walk in silence for a couple minutes and it’s not until you’re a block away from home do you turn to him with that smile that means you’re up to no good.

“Y’know… Tanaka-sensei was complaining that sometimes purple can be really difficult to print. Maybe that’s why you’re purple. You’re just difficult.”

“Seriously?”

Your laughter echoes down the street before you skip in front of him, stopping in front of his house as he catches up.

“Hey, don’t you wanna stay and eat? I don’t think your dad’ll have anything at home.”

“Nah, that’s why I have to get home. I might need to make something.” You say that, but you glance toward the lights that are still on in the factory.

“You’re going to end up poisoning you both. Just stay and eat with us. It won’t take too long.”

“I shouldn’t.” Even though it looks like you want to.

He can try once more—

“How else are you supposed to finish your drawing?”

A smile appears on your face, nice and wide and one he only sees when you’re really happy with him. “Seriously? You’d sit still for me?”

“Yeah!” If it gets you some proper food tonight, yeah.

You bite your bottom lip, chewing on it while you think. “Could you do that tomorrow? I gotta make sure he’s good.”

That feeling in his chest gets smaller and his smile feels heavier, but he still makes it come. “Yeah, I’ll do it tomorrow.”

The light inside the factory turns off and you both turn as the metal doors shut, bringing Dad and Kusaga outside. After locking the doors, Dad catches sight of you both, walking forward after wishing Kusaga a good night.

“You two are out late. Did Kazuya keep you at practice again?”

“Nope! He was helping me with my art today.”

Dad gives him a look that tells him he knows better, but he simply asks you, “Can I take a look?”

Flipping through the pages, you land on the ones of today, bringing it to him. “This is what I was able to do while he was practicing, but this is what he helped me with after.”

Dad takes a moment to look through your sketches, the same ones Kazuya peeked at earlier. You never let him see how far you got with the sketch from the bus and it bothers him a little that Dad gets to see it first. But you’re trying to save him from another lecture about keeping you out too late, so he’ll leave it alone.

“You’ve improved quite a bit.”

“Thank you! I’ve been working at it as hard as Kazuya’s been working on baseball, I think. I can’t let him be the only one with talent here.” Dad laughs but that doesn’t stop your smile from starting to slip away. “I should start heading home. Dad’s waiting for me.”

His dad looks at him briefly before turning to you. Part of him hopes he’ll invite you to stay for dinner because you suck at telling parents no, but a larger part of him knows that Dad wouldn’t do that.

“You good to travel alone? Kazuya and I could walk you.”

“No, it’s okay. Thank you for offering!”

“Alright. Tell your dad I said hi.”

You wave to them both as you continue heading down the street, turning away without much of a smile. Dad turns to him again but, before he can say anything, Kazuya speaks up.

“Can I walk her home anyway?” He thinks about it for a moment, glancing the way you’re going, and Kazuya adds, “It’s just around the corner.”

That seems to do the trick and Dad extends his hand, gesturing to Kazuya’s bag. “That’ll be fine. I’ll get started on dinner.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

Kazuya doesn’t give him any time to respond, hurrying after you like you had called. Even if you didn’t call his name, he’s sure he heard it anyway.

Promises We Exchanged Fic Page | Daiya no Ace Masterlist | Next

[kiwi2229]

Beauty in sadness

(James Potter / Regulus Black | 777 words)

For @jegulus-microfic prompt: inspire

Regulus is sitting at the library in a big chair in a corner. It’s a perfect spot because right next to him is a big stained glass window that throws colourful reflections across the notebook in his lap. He spends hours here studying or just reading. But today he is not doing any of it. He is waiting for James to finish studying for his N.E.W.T.s with his friends. Regulus could be also revising for his exams, but true to be told he is perfectly ready. He always is. So instead of wasting time on reading articles he already read through he is watching the group by the table.

A year before he wouldn’t spare them a glance. Well except James, he always had a soft spot for him. And his brother, but that’s a totally different story. But the rest of them? Nah, he never cared. But now he spends a lot of time with them and they are not as bad as he thought they would be.

James is gesturing towards the book and passionately argues about something with Marlene. Regulus looks down again, where his hand is moving across the page. He is now sketching the stack of James’ books. The notebook is full of little sketches like this. Mostly of James but also of Regulus’ friends, he loves to draw Pandoras’ hair or different parts of the castle. Between the sketches are scattered different quotes or poems he wrote.

He sits there for another hour before the group finally calls it night and agrees to meet for further studying tomorrow. It’s getting pretty late, and James will probably be tired but maybe they can still go for a little walk before the curfew. He starts to pack all of his stuff so they can leave as soon as possible, but when James approaches him he just squeezes next to him and settles in the chair.

“Hi.” He breaths out wrapping himself around Regulus.

“Hello. So, are you smart already?” Regulus chuckles at the incoherent grumble as a response from James. Regulus closes his eyes and leans more into him letting the warmth of this boy wrap itself around him.

“Can I?” James whispers after a while into the silence. Regulus cracks one eye open to see what James is asking. The boy is holding his sketchbook. James knows he draws sometimes though he never showed him his work. But it’s nothing special so why not. He nods carefully watching James go through the notebook.

“These are amazing love. I never knew you draw this much.” James says without looking up.

Regulus hesitates for a moment before he says his admission. “You inspire me.” James gives him a smug grin. There is no point in denying there are significantly more drawings of James than other things.

James keeps flicking through the notebook before he speaks again, but this time it’s more careful. “What are these poems?”

“Some of them are quotes from books, most of them I wrote,” Regulus explains.

James is looking at him now. “Did I also inspire the ones you write?”

“Some of them, yes. Also, my friends or this place.” Regulus gestures around.

“But they are sad.” Regulus shrugs. He wouldn’t call them sad. More melancholic? He never saw it as a problem. It’s just part of who he is. “I guess so.”

“Do I make you sad?” James asks and tightens his arms around Regulus.

“Of course not. Why would you ask that?”

“Well, the poems are sad, and you said I inspire you so…”

“Oh, Jamie…” Regulus breathes out. Pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. James truly looks worried. “it’s not a bad thing.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It goes together. Happiness and sadness. Love and fear. They can’t exist without each other. I write because I care. And because I care it’s melancholic or sad.” James still does not look convinced, and Regulus is not sure if he can express it in a way that makes sense. “You can love something so much that it hurts. It can be so beautiful that it’s almost too much to look at it. But you never look away. You bare the pain as it’s evidence of the feeling. There is nothing more devastating than apathy. You never feel sad about insignificant things. No, it’s only the important stuff that awakens these emotions inside us. There is beauty in sadness, because of how deep it runs.”

He gives James a soft kiss on his lips. It’s just a brush of a touch. James doesn’t even have a chance to react. “You are important to me. That’s why the poems are sad.”