#everyone can be a bit too intense and it’s made by a guy who is ultimately just having fun | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

roanofarcc · 2 months ago

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IS IT CASUAL NOW?

pairing. scott miller (twisters) x fem!reader

summary. what happened between you and scott was supposed to be strictly casual, but when you feelings got too involved, you decided to call it quits. But storms and close calls have a way to bringing out true feelings.

warnings. allusions to smut but no actual smut, suggestive language, a curse or two, injuries, reader gets hurt, medical descriptions. scott is a little bit of an asshole & a sweetheart (he’s complicated, okay?). idk how I feel about this but I’ve been writing it for what felt like forever & I needed to post it so it stops haunting me.

word count. 3.9k || masterlist

Feelings were messy; they always got in the way of things. You weren’t sure when yours changed or why, but they surely were leading you quickly toward disaster. It was supposed to be a casual thing, a no-strings-attached kind of thing. ‘Sleeping with the enemy’ wasn’t supposed to be anything more than meaningless sex in shitty motels after both of your storm-chasing teams went to sleep. And maybe that was a bit dramatic, but the Wranglers had a flare for dramatics and a hatred for Storm Par. You were caught in the mess you made, unsure of what to do.

Scott was not the kind of man who wanted a serious relationship. He had a bad attitude and was one-track-minded. But he was just as lonely as you were, and that had quickly become a recipe for a delicious disaster. You two found yourself entangled in a strictly sex-only relationship, unknown to your two teams, enjoyed in the sanctity of midwestern motels. And for a while, the thrill of something so casual with no real stakes was exciting.

You’d only ever had real relationships, partners you took home to meet your parents, and who bought you dinner. Scott was new territory. He was an asshole, but there was a certain charm that kept you coming back when he called you beautiful while fumbling for the zipper of your jeans or pressing soft kisses to your neck.

Things between you two were good, but at some point, you couldn’t separate sex from feelings. It started to mean something to you. You tried to ignore it, burying it down deep in your gut, but that only worked for so long.

Scott never stayed long; he didn’t want anyone to catch him sneaking out of your room. But you hardly ever got the chance to catch your breath before he was searching for his clothes strewn across the floor. You rolled your lips into your mouth, chest still rising and falling heavily, and grabbed your t-shirt from where it had been tossed onto the nightstand.

“Are you guys following the storms up to Arkansas tomorrow?” he asked, falling back into himself the same way he always did. It was like the moment he stood from the bed, he snapped back into himself, stiff and work focused.

He was a hard man to understand. You supposed you weren’t really supposed to understand him, that was the nature of your relationship. The less you knew about someone, the easier it was to not care. But you cared too much about everything and everyone.

“Uh, yeah,” you replied, toying the itchy motel blanket between your fingers. Anxiety twisted in your gut like a storm, bringing unruly waves that flooded your chest and made it tight. “Scott?”

He hummed in response, tugging on his shoes, not looking at you. It was a band-aid you needed to rip off, but you knew the nasty wound underneath it. You were scoffing it; you couldn’t keep it up.

“I, um, I don’t know if I can do this anymore.” You held your breath after the words fell from your lips. You didn’t want to say it; you didn’t want to mean it, but if you spent another evening with Scott you’d be done for. Feelings for him ached inside your chest, but you had to snuff them out before they grew any more intense and left you heartbroken in the wake. Being heartbroken for someone who didn’t care much for you beyond sleeping together sounded like a nightmare. You wanted to get ahead of it; no hard feelings.

He paused, standing up right as he put on his second shoe and furrowed his brows. “Do what?” he said, confused.

You winced. “This,” you said, pointing between the two of you. “Us.”

“Why?” Scott lingered by the door, crossing his arms over his chest. He wasn’t a man of many words, curt and to the point you had learned.

You sighed, casting your gaze onto your lap. You felt small and a little embarrassed that you couldn’t separate sex from feelings. Scott seemed to do it so easily, but they were too intertwined for you. “What we have is good,” you started. “But I think I need something more…real, I guess.”

“This isn’t real enough for you?” he asked with a raise of his brows.

“You don’t want a relationship, right?”

“Right,” he answered, quickly.

“But I do.”

Scott was quiet for a moment, his face swarming with emotions you couldn’t pinpoint before they vanished and fell back into his usual, stoic expression. “With me?”

You smiled sadly, shaking your head even though it felt wrong, even though you were lying, a little. You knew the idea of you and Scott in a real relationship was purely fictional, completely intangible. You were probably the last person on Earth he’d want to date if he ever found himself able to look past his work. But you were soft-hearted and couldn’t help but think about it, even if it was ridiculous.

“If we keep this up, maybe,” you tried to joke but it fell flat. “But no, I just meant in general. I don’t think I’m really cut out for this.”

He pursed his lips, looking for a moment like he wanted to say something but decided against it and, instead, nodded slowly. “If that’s what you want.” Scott turned and grabbed the door handle, hesitating before he opened it. You tried to say goodbye, but he slipped out quickly, leaving the words lost in the quietness of your motel room.

You sighed, falling back against your pillow and bringing your hands up to your face in frustration. You knew you had done the right thing, and it would have hurt even worse if you waited, but it still sucked. You weren’t cut out for casual.

“Why are you so mopey?” Kate asked, sliding onto the bar stool beside you at the little dinner. You volunteered to grab everyone dinner while they worked on the truck before tomorrow’s storms. Kate followed you, picking up on the sulky attitude you had been trying to hide all day.

You sighed, tapping the countertop and avoiding her eyes. “It’s nothin’,” you said, trying to add a hint of cheeriness to your tone but it fell flat.

“If I tell you something, you promise not to get mad at me?” Confused, you glanced over at her. Kate was too sweet for anyone to be mad at her, you were sure of that. Besides, if anyone got mad at Kate, you were sure Tyler would wreak havoc. “Last night, I left my room to grab my phone charger from the truck and I kind of saw…” she looked over her shoulder at the diner’s company before lowering her voice into a whisper. “Scott leaving your room. That’s not why you’re mopey, is it?”

Your groan answered her. “No one was supposed to find out.”

She frowned. “I won’t tell, promise.”

“It doesn’t really matter anymore, I guess.” You shouldn’t have been sad; you were the one who called it off, but it left a little crater in your chest, a stupid feeling. Scott wasn’t someone you brought home to your parents or who would buy you flowers out of the blue. He was a one-night stand kind of guy; he made snarky comments and called you and your team hillbillies. You should have felt good about your decision, but you just couldn’t.

“We’re not seeing each other anymore,” you said.

“Why? Did he do something stupid? Because I’ll kick his ass.”

You smiled at her offer, tempted to take her up on it for your own sake, but it was unreasonable. “I called it off.”

“Oh,” she said, patting you gently on the shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t know why I’m upset about it.” You wished you could just cross it out of your head, said and done, and wipe your hands clean of it. He was just a guy, but he was stuck on you. “We were just sleeping together; that was it. But…but I’m pathetic.”

Kate shook her head. “You’re not pathetic; don’t talk like that. Do you…like him?” She nearly winced when she said it, like it was a painful idea even for her to swallow. Scott wasn’t some supervillain, but he was a sore spot for her best friend, Javi. The two had started Storm Par together until their butting heads finally cracked. Javi left Storm Par and joined the Wranglers along with Kate, and Scott had to pivot to fill the gap Javi left.

“I was starting too, that’s why I called it off.”

Kate hummed in understanding just as the waitress placed your bags of food on the counter. She helped you gather the takeout with a smile and said, “Well, we’ll just have to find you someone new. Tyler wanted to take everyone out to this bar he and team always stop at during the season. Between all of us, we’ll find you someone even better than Mr. Storm Par.”

That didn’t sound so bad.

Oh, but it was. You’re not sure what happened, but it seemed like every decent, single person was taken or nowhere near Arkansas. Instead, the bar was filled with couples, oddballs, and creeps. You sipped on your drink and sank down in the booth, feeling defeated.

Kate joined you with a huff. “Sorry this turned out to be a total failure,” she said. “I don’t know what happened to all of the hot, decent, single people.” From across the booth, Tyler made a noise as he swallowed his beer and put his hands out in an ‘excuse me?’ manner. Kate smiled and shook her head. “For her,” she said, pointing to you.

Tyler nodded in understanding. “Ah, I didn’t know you were looking.”

You cleared your throat. “It’s, uh, a new endeavor.” Because you’d been so preoccupied with sleeping with Scott for the last couple of months, you hadn’t even thought about seeking someone else out, a real relationship. To your friends, you were simply content in your singleness, but that wasn’t the truth whatsoever.

“Well, I don’t think you’re gonna find anyone here,” Boone said, scanning the bar. The front door opened and in poured more people. His face twisted. “Unless you wanna shack up with one of Storm Par,” he laughed and his friends around the table echoed it, aside from Kate and yourself. Instead, your eyes widened as you turned your head to follow Boone’s gaze. Into the bar walked Storm Par, still dressed in their uniforms and looking out of place. Your staring caught Scott’s eye. He held your gaze for a moment, same stoic expression until he blinked and turned his attention onto the bar as they approached it.

On the other side of Kate, Javi hummed. “Hey, maybe they’re loosening up a bit. I don’t remember the last time Scott willing walked into a bar,” he said.

You laughed fakely along with your friends while Kate comfortingly squeezed your hand under the table.

You sat and drank with the Wranglers for a while, sneaking subtle glances at Scott every now and then, only to find his attention glued to the shelves of liquor behind the bar or one of his teammates. It wasn’t until the smell of smoke and the taste of beer became a little overwhelming did you slide out of the booth and excused yourself to grab some air outside.

The nighttime air filled your lungs the second you stepped outside. You leaned against the brick exterior of the bar, gazing out into the quiet street. People passed in and out of the bar, some laughing alongside their friends, others grumbling under their whiskey-tainted breath. You hardly paid them mind, until you felt someone’s eyes on you. For a moment, a slight worry plagued you, until you turned your head and found a familiar face approaching you.

“Hey,” you greeted Scott with a tight-lipped smile.

He looked a little uncomfortable, his hair disheveled and uniform wrinkled from the rowdy company of the bar. He let out a breath before he said, “Hi," and joined you against the building. He left a wide gap like you were a little more than strangers but less than anything else.

“I’m surprised to see you guys here.”

Scott sighed, somewhere between disgruntled and mocking amusement. “Wasn’t my idea. It’s ruining my reputation as a stick in the mud.”

You laughed despite yourself, and he met your gaze. “Oh, somebody’s got jokes now?”

He half smiled, fixing his gaze out on the street. “I’m full of surprises.” A quiet moment passed between you two. In the fresh spring air, there was still a tension that tugged on you. It felt odd, being so close to him without either hurling jabs back and forth in the company of your teammates or kissing him while your hands roamed.

Scott cleared his throat. “You’re sure about, uh, you know, ending this?” The way he asked sounded casual like you weren’t sharing something intimate.

You nodded until you realized he wasn’t looking at you. “Yeah,” you answered.

He peeled himself off of the brick wall and turned toward you. A rock settled in your gut; that was why he came outside, to make sure you didn’t have a change of heart. You didn’t know why, exactly, that irritated you. Maybe a stupidly hopeful part of you thought maybe he had changed his mind and was looking for something less casual and more real. But he wasn’t.

Then he just left, heading back inside and leaving you to blow air from your cheeks.

The storm had blown in with a vengeance. The town was supposed to be a pit stop on your team’s and other storm chasers' way toward bigger storms developing further east, but it became the hub of a sneaky but violent front. You stumbled out of the truck and into the powerful winds that nearly knocked you up against the door you struggled to shut.

The Wranglers looked for cover, helping some unprepared stragglers along into the nearby buildings. You made a move to follow them, but you hesitated when you saw one of Storm Par’s trucks parked alongside a sidewalk a little way down the road. One of the newest members rushed in your direction, towards the shelter, but the other person beside the truck didn’t. Scott stood there with his phone at his ear, struggling against the wind to be heard.

You sucked in a breath before turning around, bee-lining for the building you saw the rest of the Wrangler rush into. But once you reached the doors, pulling them open for a group of people to run inside, you felt the storm grow stronger, the rain running sideways in the wind that was determined to blow over everything in its path. You weren’t sure what exactly compelled you to spare another look over your shoulder at Scott’s truck, but there was a tug on your gut that you couldn’t ignore. And when you did, your heart dropped violently.

Scott was on the ground, pressed between the sidewalk and a mess of debris. Though it was difficult to see clearly through the rain, you were close enough to notice him struggle as the tornado loomed closer.

It was out of instinct that you abandoned the safety of the shelter and hurried across the road. Storm chasing had created a bad habit of putting others first in dangerous weather, a need to be helpful in the wake of a disaster.

You dodged flying debris as you crossed the distance and arrived to find Scott trying to shove a large metal ladder that must’ve come flying off the top of someone’s van. He looked a little dazed, rain in his eyes and hands cut up from where he probably tried to block the blow that came in too quickly.

You quickly grabbed a rung and started to pull before he groaned in pain. “Shit!” he hissed, blinking away the water from his eyes to clear up his vision enough to notice you. “W-What are you doing?” he yelled above the howl of the wind.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” you said quickly, pulling harder despite your slippery hands. The ladder was heavy, and the conditions only made it ten times harder to get it to budge, but between the two of you, you managed to shove it off of Scott. He rolled onto his side, face contorted in pain as he placed a hand on his ribs where the ladder had been pressed against. “Come on, we’ve gotta go!” You pulled him up by the arm, ignoring his groans of protest.

The second he was standing upright, he stared at you with wide eyes and chest heaving. Your attention fell onto the sky and storm. Not thinking about much other than getting the hell out of the storm’s way, you grabbed Scott by the hand and pulled him toward the building. You moved quickly, despite whatever injuries he possessed, and were almost there when something hurled through the air. Before you could react, duck out of the way, or even attempt to avoid it, the object sliced across your forehead.

Pain bloomed across your skin, stopping you in your tracks. You brought your hand up to your forehead. For a moment, you thought it was just rain that coated your skin, but when you pulled your hand back, it was red-coated.

Scott tugged on your hand, his face twisted in a mix of emotions you were too dazed to read. He pulled you the rest of the way to the building. The world was a blur, a mix of colors that blood seeped into, staining your vision and making panic stretch uncomfortably inside your chest. People were gathered near the back wall, far from the windows. Scott pulled you down, his hand pressed firmly against your forehead.

Glass exploded as the windows shattered. Everyone gasped and pressed themselves impossibly close to the back wall. The pain in your head battled your increasing panic, making it hard to breathe.

Scott noticed, using his free hand to grip your shoulder. “It’s all right,” he said, voice unsteady. “You’re all right.” But you did feel like it. The world grew blurrier by the minute. You felt your eyes flutter against your will. The cut across your head must’ve been deep. Little black dots spotted your vision, despite your attempt to fight it. Your head dropped, falling into Scott. He kept his hand pressed against your cut and used his other to wrap around you, his own breath panicked as you fell unconscious.

The lights were too bright when you woke up, groggy and disoriented. With a disgruntled hum, you lulled your head side to side as your eyes fluttered open.

“Oh, thank goodness,” a voice filled your ears, light and relived. You blinked and Kate stood hovering over you with a small smile on her lips.

“You gave us a heart attack,” Tyler said.

“Sorry,” you managed to say, despite the dryness in your throat. “Everyone okay?”

Kate nodded, patting the top of your hand. “The team’s all right; you were the only one who took a hit.” You wanted to ask about Scott, but Kate must’ve read your mind because she added, “Storm Par was all right too.”

“Yeah, I think you short-circuited Mr. Robot. I’ve never seen Scott so bend out of shape after you passed out,” Tyler said, making your gut twist oddly. “He said you saved his ass.”

You tried to sit up, but pain rippled throughout your head, causing you to wince and sink back down. Kate shot Tyler a look as if to say ‘stop talking’ and he listened. “You got a couple of stitches and a concussion. But the doctor said you should be back to feeling like yourself in a week or so.”

With a sigh, you replied, “Great.”

A soft knock sounded from the door. Tyler opened it and looked surprised as it swung open to reveal Scott. He looked surprised himself like he wasn’t sure he should be there. Nevertheless, he cleared his throat and offered Tyler a look that was different than his usual scowl.

“What’d you want?” Tyler asked, but Kate quickly rushed to his side and placed a hand on his shoulder, telling him to stand down.

“Ty, we should go find the doctor.” She turned her head back to you for confirmation that you were okay with Scott visiting, and you nodded.

Tyler looked confused. “What-” Kate started to drag him out of the room, side-stepping Scott before she gently nudged him inside. She and Tyler disappeared into the hall, leaving you with Scott. He pulled his hand out from behind his back to reveal a small bouquet of flowers.

“Hi,” you greeted, offering him a small smile.

He returned it and moved to your bedside. “Hi,” he said. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been hit in the head,” you answered honestly. There was a light throbbing behind your eyes, dulled by the medication the doctor must’ve given you while you were out. “But it’s not too bad. How are you?”

“Besides a couple bruises, not in too bad of shape.” Scott pressed his lips together in a thin line, hesitating for a moment. “Mostly just been worried…about you.”

A warmness filled your chest, and you were too groggy to fight it off. He was worried about you, which you should have brushed off; you had passed out on him, so it wasn’t a crazy idea. But it felt big.

“I’m okay.” You didn’t know what else you were supposed to say.

He placed the bouquet of flowers on the little table beside the bed. “These are for you.”

“They’re pretty. Thank you.”

For a moment, there was a still tension that pulled between you, like it was waiting for someone to make a tug. You felt your better judgment slip, replaced by the urge to say something you’d probably regret, but Scott beat you to it.

“Uh, I-I know this is bad timing but if I don’t say something now, I probably won’t,” he started, much to your surprise and confusion. “I know you said you wanted to call this thing,” he pointed between the two of you. “Off. But I don’t.”

You sighed, “But-”

“I know,” he cut you off. “You want something real. A relationship. And I don’t. Or…I thought I didn’t. But the more I’ve been thinking about it, I like being with you. I don’t want to…not be with you. I want to be with you more, actually, not just us sleeping together. If you still want something real, then so do I.”

You blinked, stunned by his sudden confession. The heat spread from your chest, up your neck, and to your face. “Really?”

“Really,” he said, his lips quirking upwards in a smile that made the fluorescent lights look dim. “If I hadn’t screwed it up too much already.”

With a quick shake of your head, you returned his grin, and his body shifted in relief. “I like being with you too.”

“When you’re feeling better, let me take you on a real date, somewhere a hell of a lot nicer than those motels.” His hand ghosted over yours and you quickly intertwined your fingers with his before you pulled him down to your level.

“You are full of surprises, huh?” you joked, your cheeks hurting from smiling.

He shrugged. “I told ‘ya.”

#twisters #twisters 2024 #scott miller #scott miller x reader #scott miller x you #scott twisters #scott twisters x reader #scott twisters x you #twisters fanfic #tyler owens #kate carter #javi twisters #boone twisters

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some-bunniii · 9 months ago

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My Charming Red Savior [2]

・❥ Two odd visitors and a mugging. Can’t you stay out of trouble?

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |

x: he’s back!! a little longer this time, 8k words. enjoy!

That evening after meeting Alastor, you sat at your friend’s dining table, your mind racing.

Your finger aimlessly twisted that gold ring he had magically placed on your digit, as you explained what happened. The creep harassing you, Alastor swooping in to save you. All of it laid out for your friend to digest. Which she wasn’t taking it very well.

“I mean, I'm glad that demon helped you out of that, but you should have gotten away as soon as possible! Haven’t you heard what he’s done, what kind of deals people have made with him?”

You sighed, feeling a bit frustrated with your friend's skepticism. "Look, I get it, you're worried. But Alastor isn't what everyone makes him out to be. He helped me when I needed it most. Besides, who are we to judge someone solely based on rumors?"

Your friend leaned forward, her eyes fixed on the ring adorning your finger. "What about that? What if it's some sort of trap he set for you?"

You instinctively pulled your hand back, a protective gesture. "Don't be ridiculous. Alastor wouldn't do something like that. He's... different."

"Different? More like dangerous," she countered, reaching out to grab your hand. "Come on, let me see that ring. We can take it to someone to see if it’s been magically altered."

Dangerous? He saved you from someone dangerous! Yes, he was a demon. A sinner, who probably did some bad things, and most likely continues to do bad things. Except, for the fact he didn’t leave you, a defenseless nobody, to be taken off and.. you couldn’t even think about it.

You jerked your hand away from her hand, the ring glinting in the lamplight. "There’s nothing wrong with the ring, you’re just being paranoid. It’s.. comforting, actually."

Your friend sighed, frustration evident in her voice. "I just don't want to see you get hurt. Please, at least consider what I'm saying."

You softened, realizing she was only looking out for you. "I appreciate your concern, I really do. But I’m not a child, I can make my own decisions."

Your friend relented after a moment, sinking back into her chair. She nodded slowly, agreeing with your statement.

At that moment, your friend’s husband had entered the room. A large pot of steaming foodstuff in his oven-mitt protected hands as he walked.

“I hope you guys are hungry!” He said cheerfully, the tension in the room easing with his upbeat demeanor. You quite liked him, he had some good jokes and cared about those around him.

You smile gratefully, welcoming the distraction from the intense conversation. “Absolutely starving,” you reply, grateful for the opportunity to shift the focus to something more light-hearted.

Your friend’s husband sets the pot on the table, filling the room with the delightful aroma of home-cooked food. “Well, dig in!” he encourages, serving everyone generous portions.

As you take a bite, the flavors dance on your palate, and your eyes light up as you eat.

“What is this?” You turn to her husband, who looked up from his bowl, face stuffed with food.

“Crawfish Étouffée! A popular dish from New Orleans, back on Earth. Do you like it?”

You nodded vigorously. Is this what Jambalaya tastes like? If so, you really needed to try it. Maybe, you’d see Alastor again, and he could give you that recipe he had mentioned?

As your thoughts drifted back to the red demon, your finger began to twist the ring around your digit once more. Why did it bring you such comfort? You had no idea.

Sometimes, if you put your hand to your face, you could smell faint traces of his scent, that you had first memorized when you walked side by side with him. It smelled like an old cologne, something that you couldn’t quite recognize from your days. Maybe, it was back when he was alive?

Lemony, hay-like and grassy. A whiff of licorice. Something peppery too? You couldn’t quite place it. But every deep inhale sent you into a lull. A trance, almost.

Your finger still mindlessly caressed the golden band a while later, during the early hours of the morning. You had been sweeping the front doors to the formalwear store you worked at, tidying up before it would be opened for customers.

It wasn’t until you heard the sound of someone clearing their throat, did you get pulled back into reality.

“Pardon me, miss. Are you guys open?”

Turning around to address the voice, you find no one. It wasn’t until you looked down did you see the demon man. He resembled that of an imp. Dark red skin with thin, striped horns that peaked out of the top of his head.

He wore a white turtleneck, with long white hair that curled around his chin. His eyes were unreadable, hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. They were Ray-Burn glasses. You could immediately tell from the bridge, which were curved to resemble a half-circle rather than an oval.

You also knew how high-end that brand was, and it wasn’t easy getting a pair either. The wait for those was no joke. And, this style was from their newest collection, which meant that he had to be of some importance to get one so soon.

His posture also struck you as odd, especially for an imp. He stood tall, shoulders back, head held high. Despite being a part of one of the lowest social classes in Hell, the demon regarded everyone and everything around him with an air of confidence and assertiveness.

It was also odd that he was wearing sunglasses so early in the morning, there wasn’t really much light to need protection from. Maybe he had some bat genetics in him?

You smiled at him, but shook your head. “I’m sorry, sir. We’re closed right now. You’ll have to come back later.”

The imp visibility deflated at your words, a frown etched on his face. You could see his eyes through the shades just enough to show them flicking down the streets.

“Oh, okay. That’s fine, I guess. Thanks, I'll just.. have to figure something else out.”

He backed away, as he scanned the nearby stores again. He muttered to himself, too quiet for you to hear, but his tone sounded scolding. As if he was berating himself. The demon bit his lip, as if he was contemplating something.

A pang of sympathy hit you, as you watched him become more anguished. It seemed like he really needed whatever was inside, and you didn’t have a reason to deny him business other than to follow the official hours of operation.

Placing the broom against the brick wall, you pulled out a set of keys. The demon turned slightly as he heard its jingle, and you met his shaded gaze.

“There isn’t really anything else I need to do before opening though, so I suppose it’s not a big issue letting you inside.”

The imp perked, a smile blooming on his lips at your words. You bent to turn the lock with a click. Pulling the door handle, you pulled it behind you, allowing the demon to follow you inside.

“That is so kind of you! Truly, you don’t get to meet many kind and considerate people in this place.”

Well, it was Hell. Being friendly to strangers was not a common occurrence. You just weren’t one of the, well, bad ones. Sure, you had some flaws, you weren’t a resident for no reason. But, you prided yourself in having a reasonable moral code.

“Don’t worry, I know what I need. I’ll be quick!” The imp promised, as he passed through the entryway. The large room was dark, besides the morning light casting through the windows.

You flicked on the lights, and the overhead lamps lit the interior of the store. There were mannequins lining the dark-blue walls, styled in different tuxedos and dress shirts. Next to them were rows of shelves, each specific to a type of garment. There were dress pants, vests, shoes, and smaller accessories like ties and belts.

As you walked behind the black-granite countertop, the imp had hurried over to a mannequin facing out of a glass display. He reached down near its feet, a small shelf lifted from the floor. A pile of red suits was neatly tucked next to the display.

Gingerly, he lifted to the top piece, examining it thoroughly. After a few moments, he brought it closer to his chest, before turning to you. Your hands tapped against the display of the digital cash register, readying it for service.

You looked up just as he placed the garment on the counter, your eyes scanning the suit. Strange, he was still wearing those shades. You simply smiled at him, before pulling the item closer to you. Carefully, you unfolded it, examining its form.

It was a beautiful red tuxedo, with golden lapels. Dark-red buttons, with white cuffs. It was a women’s suit, which was rare for you to see, since the store mostly marketed towards men.

“What a wonderful piece!” You exclaimed, your tone dripping with customer-satisfying professionalism. “Getting this for a special someone?”

The imp nodded. “For my daughter. She runs a hotel a few blocks away, up the hill. The Hazbin Hotel, if you've heard of it? She needed a new suit, and this was the perfect fit.”

The hotel that was supposed to help sinners with redemption? You’ve heard bits and pieces, mostly when you watched that disastrous interview with Katie Killjoy. You couldn’t recall who ran it, though.

“A little, but you sure do have an eye for style!” You nodded, grabbing the small tag from the sleeve to input the information into the register.

“Well, it was my sweetheart who picked it out first,” the imp gushed, “I can’t take all the credit, I'm not good at these sorts of things, anyway.”

“Do they have a background in fashion?”

“No, they’re an artist,” the demon beamed, his voice growing softer as he spoke of his lover, “I can promise, you’ve never seen a real painting until you’ve seen theirs. If it were my way, I'd fill every billboard with them, instead of those.. repulsive pornography ads they have downtown.”

The imp held a look of pride and admiration as he spoke, obviously having full confidence in his claim. You pulled up the item on your screen, and read him the price. It was not a cheap suit, but the demon had no reaction to the total and simply pulled out his wallet.

“Is business running smoothly at the hotel? Do you guys get a lot of guests?”

The imp contemplated for a moment, before pulling out a large sum of money, placing it gently on the counter. You reached for it, before licking your finger and counting through the bills.

“Not entirely. It just opened recently, and, with the demons it caters to? Hah, there’s not many around here with the mindset of redemption. But, I'm going to be helping her out, supporting her with the work.”

What a nice father, helping his daughter out like that. If only someone like that had helped you when you were younger, maybe you would be stu-

“Especially when it comes to keeping an eye on some of the.. colorful characters she calls staff. Like that Radio Demon.” As the imp spoke, you could hear the disdain in his tone, as he uttered that name. Your head shot up from the bills in your hand at his words.

Radio demon? Alastor? Alastor was working at the Hazbin Hotel?

“As in, the tall red guy with deer antlers? Carries a staff around with a microphone on it?” You questioned him, excitement lacing your voice.

“Yes. Do you know him? Word of advice, stay away from that demon. He’s nothing but a self-serving, pompous show-off.”

That couldn’t be true, could it?

Quickly, you placed the bills into the cash register, pulling out change to hand to the imp. As he took the money in your hand, you found it right to defend Alastor.

“He helped me out of a tough spot awhile ago, practically saved my life, actually.”

The demon regarded you for a moment, eyebrows raised as he took in your words. He didn’t argue, seemingly trying to leave as fast as possible. Back to the hotel presumably. “Hmph. Well, just be careful, you never know with demons like him.”

You were about to wish him farewell and turn away, before his hand lifted once more. Looking down, he held another stack of money in his hands, you could faintly read ‘100’ on one of the bills alone.

“For your kindness,” the demon stated simply, giving you a wink, “I enjoyed our short chat, there’s not many people down here I'm interested in talking to. Go treat yourself.”

Your eyes widened at his words. How did he have so much money he could just.. give it away?! You almost wanted to reject his offering. But, money was money, so you took them from his grip.

“I-I don’t know what to say, but thank you! This is very generous of you.”

He only shrugged, sending you a charming smile. “I am indeed a very generous person. Just don’t spend it on drugs, or anything like that.”

As you handed him the small pink bag, his shaded gaze landed on the ring on your finger, and he leaned in just an inch to get a closer look.

“Boy, that is a fine piece of jewelry you’ve got there! Very nice, was it from a lover? It really makes a statement! Just curious.. do you by any chance know where you got it from?”

You tilted your head, wondering why he wanted to know, was he planning on getting one himself? You just shook your head, you couldn’t really tell him it magically poofed onto your finger by the same demon he held negative feelings for.

He nodded, muttering something like ‘that’s fine’, before pivoting away from you towards the door.

“Adios!” He called, a hand in the air in farewell as he strolled to the exit. The bell above the door jingled as it closed behind him, and you saw him step near the curb, away from your view.

Suddenly, a flash of gold illuminated the small window on the door. Crossing the room, you peeked out the large display window. There was no one on the street, even when you cranked your head to both sides of the street. It’s like he just.. vanished. Strange.

You flipped the large sign on the window from ‘Closed’ to ‘Open’ before returning behind the counter. Your fingers still holding the money he gave you, your mind elsewhere as you waited for the day to begin.

Your thoughts were still on that encounter when the assistant manager walked up to you a few hours later. He was a rather short, plump man with small horns protruding from his head. His skin was a pale blue, his figure resembling that of an ox. Alan was his name.

You weren’t very fond of him, he always threw flirtatious comments and jokes at you. Always insisting to join you behind the counter, or lean right over your shoulder when you worked. He reminded you too much of that creep from the streets, which made you uncomfortable.

What was up with you always attracting the questionable suitors? Maybe your friend at the cafe was right, you weren’t going to find ‘The One,’ you’d just have to settle for less.

Alan would always try and pry into your personal life, asking if you had a lover, or kids. You’d simply change the conversation as smoothly as possible. If you told him we’re single, he’d no doubt try and court you. Which made you nervous, he didn’t seem like someone who could take a rejection.

You weren’t able to say, ‘why yes, I have a hubby of my own!’ because you never had proof. Without a ring, and the rest of your co-workers aware of your singlehood, you knew lying to him would have consequences.

Not to mention, he was your boss. He had power, and unless you wanted to end up homeless on the street, you had to keep a friendly facade with him.

Luckily, he wasn’t around much. Except today your manager had meetings out of town, and he was the substitute. So, for now, you were stuck with him.

“Hey, you still know how to use that sewing machine in the back, right?” He asked you after you had finished assisting a customer near the large display window.

You nodded, curious about his question. In truth, being a tailor sounded much better than working for customer service. You had spent late nights slowly practicing the craft, on that ancient sewing machine in your basement. Maybe, you’d use that money the imp gave you to buy a new one.

“Well, Darlene just called in, which means I got no one as my seamstress. We’ve got a few pieces in need of mending, you think you can handle that?”

“Oh, sure! I can do that, no problem.”

It was then you heard the bell above the front entrance jingle slightly and the creak as the door opened, which caused you to turn sharply to greet the newcomer. Except.. there was no one there.

That was strange. There were other customers milling about, but you were standing in a position that made it impossible to miss anyone exiting the building.

“Must be having strong winds or something.” Alan remarked, and you turned back to him. As you moved, you noticed the corner next to the doorway was more shaded than usual. As if a large black shadow had taken residence there. Perhaps an overhead light went out? You’d have to check on that later.

“Anyway, I wanted to ask you something,” Alan started, a flirtatious smile on his lips as he lowered his voice, “I’ve got VIP access to a new club that just opened a few blocks down. I was thinking you and I could get some drinks and have a little fun, whatcha say?”

You groaned internally. Not this again. How were you going to say no this time?

“Well, I mean, um- you see the thing is…”

Your eyes went down to the ring on your digit, that little A shimmering in the light. Maybe, you could use this.

“… I’m already taken!” You exclaim, your hand shooting up to give Alan a front row seat at the prize on your person.

“You are?” He asked incredulously.

“Mhm!” You nod your head vigorously. “As you can see, this is my wedding ring. I eloped not too long ago, hence why it’s not common knowledge.”

Hopefully, he would buy your lie.

Alan stood there, his eyes flicking from you to the ring. Was he going to try and fight your claim? It seemed like he wanted to. Before you even gave him the chance to, you whipped towards the door being the counter to start mending.

You had only used the machine in the back a handful of times, but you were trying to become more familiar with it. Nodding, you quickly slipped into the back room. The hum of the old sewing machine greeted you like an old friend as you fired it up and began to mend the pieces in need of repair.

The rhythmic clacking of the needle against fabric filled the air as you lost yourself in the task at hand, the radio beside you playing soft old-timey melodies in the background. You continued this calm pace for a few hours, thankful to be away from Alan and the bustling state of the store.

Until a familiar static-laced voice broke through the music.

“Hello, sir! My, what a hellish morning it is!”

Your foot instantly moved off the pedal nestled under the table, the vibrations from the machine ceasing as it stilled. You strained your ears, is that who you thought it was?

“Oh, why hello there! How can I assist you today?” You heard the loud, boisterous voice of Alan as he welcomed the newcomer. Quickly, you left your seat, and peaked through the small crack in the doorway.

Your breath quickened as your eyes landed on the tall, red demon. Alastor. How did he get in here? You didn’t hear the loud bell jingle at his entrance.

He sported his usual red coat, with his staff resting lazily in his grip as he stood before the demon. He had a large smile on his face, but his eyes spoke differently. He looked absolutely bored, disinterested in the man before him and his surroundings.

“I’m simply here to adjust some wear-and-tear on my suit,” he remarked, “as you can see, my sleeve has taken quite the nasty wound.”

He lifted up his arm, displaying a tiny piece of missing fabric from the cuff. It was a clean slice, as if someone had taken a knife and barely nicked it. Nasty wasn’t exactly how you’d describe it, more like itty bitty.

“If I may..” Alan leaned in slightly, reaching out to inspect the tear.

Alastor only pulled his arm back, rejecting the gesture with a subtle yet firm movement.

“I prefer to handle my own attire, thank you,” Alastor stated, his voice carrying a hint of disdain as he withdrew his sleeve from Alan’s reach. His smile widened further, as he stared at the demon.

Your boss recoiled slightly, taken aback by Alastor’s abrupt refusal. “Oh, of course. My apologies,” he stammered, attempting to regain her composure, “but not to worry, sir! We’ve got fabrics that match and a seamstress to do the work. Let me go grab her for you, I'll be right back!”

You saw Alan turn in your direction, and you backed away from the door. Your heart raced as you realized you were going to actually be face to face with Alastor again. How would he react to your presence?

You shot into your seat, spinning around towards the machine. You stepped on the pedal, and the machine hummed to life once more. The door opened, and Alan poked his head in.

“Hey, there’s a customer who needs some assistance. Get out here.”

His head disappeared from view, leaving you alone once more. Exhaling a large breath to ease your nerves, you rose from your seat. Quickly, you walked over to the door and gripped the handle tightly. Another deep breath, and you pulled it open gingerly before taking a step outside.

Your boss was back beside Alastor, who towered over the man. As you slowly entered the room, Alastor’s eyes moved to you. They lit up with interest, the smile seeming to shrink slightly. The crooked edges on his smile softened too, appearing more genuine as he regarded you.

“Ah, there you are, my dear! I was hoping to find you here.” Alastor called to you. He stepped right past Alan, completely ignoring his presence as he strode up to you.

As he closed the distance, you became awfully aware of how fast your heart was beating inside your chest. That smell of lemons and licorice hit your nose as he stood before you, and it eased your nerves as you took a quick inhale of breath.

He turned, allowing Alan to see both of your faces as he slowly reached out to take your hand. His thumb gently grazed against the gold band and it spun slightly. Your breath hitched at his touch.

“It is so nice to be able to visit my dear wife at her place of work,” Alastor started, his gaze shooting to Alan as he spoke, “and, to meet her lovely coworkers! A pleasure indeed.”

Did he hear you telling Alan about your ring? He couldn’t have, but there seemed to be no other reason for him to bring up the whole marriage farce.

Alastor turned back to you, finger still softly caressing your hand as he turned his attention to his sleeve.

“It appears I’ve gotten into another miscommunication with an overly confident adversary, similar to what I spoke to you about before. Would you care to assist me, my love?”

Your eyes momentarily snapped to Alan, who had turned a paler shade as he watched Alastor’s actions. Now, he was finally seeing who your ‘husband’ was. It appeared to be quite a shocker for the demon.

Your gaze flicked back to Alastor, who stood next to you. That grin of his hiding whatever emotions he was feeling as he slowly released your grip, indicating for you to lead him away.

“Thank you for coming to visit, Alastor. I can stitch that up for you, you’ll just need to let me take it for a bit.” You smiled at him, doing your best to play the part with professionality. What, were you supposed to just start calling him pet names like ‘honey’ and ‘babe’?

“I think I'd prefer keeping it on.” Alastor said curtly, adjusting his collar.

He wanted to still be wearing it while you fixed it? That meant you couldn’t use the sewing machine, without risking injury to him.

“… I suppose you can just follow me, then.” You replied, turning away as you beckoned him towards the back room.

Alan didn’t follow the two of you, maybe Alastor’s comments threw him off. You hoped they did, you had enough of that guy for one day.

You opened the dark gray door, pulling it wide so Alastor could follow behind. The back room was a cozy nook from the busy establishment, half of it transformed into a makeshift tailoring nook. A small step stool nestled among tall mirrors allowed a multi-angle look for customers getting a fitting.

Rolls of fabric lined orderly shelves nearby, accompanied by an array of sewing essentials. In the corner, a small table and chair housed the ancient sewing machine. You walked forward, before realizing

“Oh, i’m sorry, I don’t have another chair. Let me go get one!” You pivoted to go find a spare, but Alastor only lifted his hand in a sweeping motion, brushing off your attempt.

“Not to worry, my dear! I’ve got it under control.”

He reached a hand forward, gripping the air like he was grabbing the top of the backrest of a chair. He tugged at the air, and a plume of green smoke wafted from his fingertips as he pulled a wooden chair from the smoke.

You stared, mesmerized as he dragged it next to your seat. He gingerly lowered himself, and plopped into the chair. That had to be powerful magic, for him to be able to produce such an object easily from thin air. Just like he did with the seasoning.

Quickly, you gathered the necessary essentials to begin fixing his garment. A couple of needles, some dark red thread, and multiple fabrics that you seemed the closest to his suit’s color.

While you collected the items in a small bin, Alastor sat comfortably behind you. His nails clicking against his cane rhythmically as the music from the radio filled the room.

He hummed softly along to the melody, obviously familiar with the tune playing. You had heard it before, a classic rendition of ‘Once In A While’ by Lennie Hayton. It was a softer tune, and an orchestral piece that allowed you to drift into a comfortable lull.

As you carried the bin back to your seat, you nestled in beside him. There was a small distance between the two of you, your knees a few inches from grazing each other.

“May I?” You asked, holding out your hand to take his sleeve. You thought Alastor was going to react negatively to the gesture, like he did with Alan. Instead, he carefully reached out his arm, allowing you to pull his sleeve down to the surface of the table.

You tried very hard not to touch his skin, as you adjusted the tear on his cuff to face you. Grabbing a few pieces of fabric, you began to hold them next to his sleeve, attempting to find the perfect match.

“So, what happened this time? Surely, not that snake demon from before.” You spoke, trying to spark conversation with your ‘husband’.

“Ha, I’m glad you do remember our last conversation! I was worried you'd forgotten as the days went by.” Alastor started, sinking deeper into his seat. He placed his cane against the table,

‘Of course, I'd remember,’ you thought, ‘I can’t get you out of my head, no matter how I try.’

“I had found myself in a rather lively discussion with a particularly vexing imp. Tiny thing, but full of mischief and malice. Managed to get itself tangled in my grip during our little altercation.” He chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “I must say, it put up quite the fight for something no larger than a rat. But fear not, I emerged victorious, albeit with a few battle scars.”

Alastor gestured towards the tear on his sleeve, his eyes sparkling with amusement. You smiled at his words, a small chuckle coming from your throat as you pulled another piece of fabric to his cuff.

Finally, you found the color that matched his attire, and you carefully began cutting a large piece from the roll.

“I’m going to have to hand sew your tear, is that okay?”

“Of course, my dear! Just try not to poke me, hm?”

You nodded with a smile, before plucking the small needle from the table.

With nimble fingers, you carefully align the edges of the fabric, pinching them together to ensure a snug fit. Holding the needle firmly between your thumb and forefinger, you begin to weave the thread in and out with practiced precision, creating neat, tiny stitches along the seam.

“I have been meaning to ask, how did the seasoning I gave you fare?” Alastor spoke, his eyes filled with intrigue as he waited for your response.

“Oh! It was fantastic!” You beamed, your mouth watering slightly as you recalled the wonderful dinner from that night. “They made Crawfish Étouffée, and it was very delicious.”

“Ah! Yes, that dish was a staple back in New Orleans, when I was alive. Folks would gather all over to get a taste of my mother’s own twist on the delicacy. She was quite the cook, and her skill never faltered.”

As you listened, you realized his voice softened quite more when he spoke of his mother. That static in his tone seemed to disperse as he mentioned her, and you caught a glimpse of his true voice behind that radio overlay.

“Well, now that I've gotten a glimpse into such an art. I really am interested in trying your Jambalaya.” You spoke genuinely, your fingers still delicately lacing the thread across his sleeve.

“I am pleased to hear that,” Alastor hummed, “I’ll have to bring you a sample the next time I'm in the area.”

Silence filled the room, other than the music that wafted from the radio’s speaker. You continued to adjust and stitch together his sleeve, very close to finishing the mending work.

Even though there were no words spoken between the two of you, the silence was not awkward at all. The two of you simply sat comfortably in each other's presence.

Behind you, the slight crack in the door allowed you to hear the loud voice of Alan, as he spoke to another customer. Alastor’s ears twitched slightly as he heard the demon speaking, his body tensing momentarily.

“Has that wretch been bothering you often?” Alastor spoke after a moment, the static in his voice growing thicker as he spoke of Alan. His claws slightly dug into the table, a faint trail embedded in the wood.

“Well, he doesn't treat me like that succubus did. But, he does not drop the subject of us becoming romantically involved. It gets.. uncomfortable, I guess.”

You sighed as the words slipped from your tongue, a frown forming on your lips as you thought of his many attempts to swoon you. Alastor’s head tilted at your words, that smile cracked even wider as you continued to carefully slip the needle through the fabric.

“Would you like me to ĐɆVØɄⱤ Ⱨł₴ ₴ØɄⱠ?”

You jerked your head up at his words, surprise etched on your face as you turned to him. His voice had changed, the last bit of his sentence distorting into pure static, and you almost didn’t catch his words.

The room crackled with energy, causing your hair to practically stand on end. It was chilling, and you shivered subconsciously at the feeling. The room seemed to darken as Alastor stared at you, his pupils shrinking to resemble radio dials.

“Excuse me?” You questioned, your tone never faltering from its original octane. Which surprised you, since this powerful demon was looking at you with such murderous intent.

‘It’s not you he wants to murder.’ the voice in your head whispered. Which made your heart flutter, was Alastor wanting to kill for you? That was.. unconventionally sweet.

Is that what he did to the succubus the other night when you weren’t looking?

“If the little oaf can’t keep his words to himself, then there is no place for him to continue to sour your mood.” Alastor explained, his eyes taking their original form slowly as he spoke, and the distortion in his tone subsided.

The shadow festering around you slowly shrank away from your seat, illuminating the room once more. That cold feeling that gripped at your shoulders vanished.

It wasn’t necessarily a bad feeling that left you, even if it smelled of darkness and destruction. It felt almost.. comforting to you. Like the shadow was pulling you into a protective hug, the chill cooling your heated skin into a soothing embrace.

You only shook your head, “He doesn’t need to die for something like that. And, he’s my boss. Without him, the store wouldn’t run as well.”

Alastor only huffed, leaning back into his seat. His claws left the table, and were instead enclosed into a fist, as he rested his chin atop of it.

“At least the poor bloke ceased in his courting when he realized another had already taken that place.” He shrugged, his eyes glancing down to the gold ring on your hand.

You halted, the needle hanging in the air mid-stitch. How did he know about you and Alan’s conversation? More importantly, what were his feelings about you still wearing the piece of jewelry?

“Oh, right. Yes, I’m sorry for still wearing it, I know it was just for that moment and it was stupid for me to think I could keep it-”

“Nonsense! Do not fret, my dear.” Alastor interjected, brushing off your worry. “Think of it as a small gift to rectify the situation you were forced into that night.”

A gift? He wanted you to keep the ring?

“You could even go as far as to perceive it as a good luck charm, ha-ha. Trouble seems to never escape you, and if this ring can even give you an ounce of protection, why not keep it on to ensure nothing like that night happens again?”

You smiled at him, your eyebrows raised as you listened to his words. A tiny ring, protecting you? You doubted it.

“Well, thank you, Alastor. It is really nice to know someone cares in that way.”

Alastor hummed softly in response, his toothy grin softening into a lipped smile as he turned his attention back to the music playing softly.

The thread tightened snuggly between the two fabrics as you finished the final stitch, your other hand reaching to the small scissors next to you. Carefully, you snipped the thread as close to the sleeve as possible, and you leaned back to take a look at your work.

It looked perfect, like the garment had never taken a hit in the first place. Alastor pulled his arm back slightly, turning it over to inspect it thoughtfully.

“I must say, you have such talent with a needle and thread! When you told me you worked as a door girl, I never expected knowledge of tailoring to be in your resume as well!”

Your cheeks heated as his compliment, and you began to slowly stand from the seat. For a moment, you wished there was something else wrong with his coat that you could fit. If only to keep him here a little longer.

What a selfish thought. You silently reprimanded yourself for such thinking, Alastor had no doubt better things to do than sit here and chit chat with a powerless nobody like you.

Alastor also left his chair, and he adjusted his collar. He gripped his cane, straightening his posture as he turned to you.

“It seems every time we’re together, our conversations are never dull. Thank you for assisting me, I’d love to continue our talks but it appears I have other business to attend to.”

“Back at the hotel?” You asked, as you walked with him to the doorway.

Alastor stopped in his tracks, his eyes widened slightly at your words. He tilted his head at you. “Forgive me, my dear, but I do not remember telling you such a thing. Where did you hear that from?”

Fuck. He never had told you about his place of work, and you writhed slightly under his stare as you tried to come up with an explanation.

“Oh, it’s just an imp had come in this morning, buying a tuxedo for his daughter. He said she ran the Hazbin Hotel. He also said you worked at the hotel too.”

‘And he doesn’t seem to like you.’ you added silently.

Alastor’s grip around his cane tightened, and his smile widened as he thought for a moment. A small chuckle escaped his lips, it sounded dark.

“Are you sure it was an imp, my dear?” He asked slowly.

You nodded, recalling the conversation. “Yes, short with white hair and red skin. Sunglasses too, weirdly. He was quite nice, actually. He gave me some money for helping him, nobody has ever done that for me.”

“Ha! What a kind soul he must be. Did he say anything else to you, by chance?”

You shook your head, “no, not really.”

“A surprise, really. That imp has a knack for using his charm to bend others to his whim. I'm sure that gesture of his was nothing more than to sweep you off your feet for his antics. I’d keep your distance from demons like him, if I were you.”

Was Alastor.. jealous? He couldn't be. But, it seemed like the feelings between the two were mutual with the way he spoke with disdain.

The imp seemed like he had someone he cared deeply for, anyway. You were sure his gesture wasn’t anything more than kindness. Although, you didn’t think Alastor would believe you if you told him.

“But, as you previously mentioned, yes,” Alastor changed the conversation, for his sake it seemed, “I do reside at the hotel in exchange for my services. Redeeming sinners is no easy feat, it needs special hands to mold such a dream into reality.”

“Well, I'm sure you’re doing a great job.” You spoke, doing your best to voice your support for him.

Alastor smiled at you, before nodding in agreement. He pulled the door open, and stepped through the doorway. You followed him, stopping at the threshold as he turned back to you.

He lowered himself slightly, a small curtsy in your direction. As he lifted himself, he leaned closer to you.

“Until we meet again, my wife.” He spoke loudly, most likely for the others in the vicinity to hear. His voice was like honey to your ears as that faint hiss of static dispersed from his tone when his lips settled on wife.

You really did like his voice, and hopefully, you’d hear what it really sounded like more often. His eyes settled on you for a moment longer, as if he wanted to say more. He didn’t, instead turning towards the register across the room.

Leaning against the doorway, you watched Alastor stroll to the cash register. Alan stood behind the counter, and he seemed to shrink slightly under the taller demon’s gaze.

The sharp edges of Alastor’s smile returned as he watched the demon quickly ready the digital display for check-out. His pupils dilating slightly, eyes narrowed as he waited.

You had watched him leave the store, watched him stroll down the street without a glance at anyone else. That mild boredom taking over his features, like it had when he had first arrived.

For the rest of your shift, as you sewed buttons back into place or trimmed stray threads that stuck out of garments, your thoughts continued to stray to events earlier in the day. To that imp, to the ring on your finger, to Alastor and those fluffy little ears on his head.

You were still deep in thought when you clocked out, your feet carrying you out the door as your path led you to the bus stop a few blocks down.

It was a small blue sign, with the symbol of a bus engraved into it. There was no one around, the empty streets quiet as you plopped onto the bench to wait.

Your hands reached into your bag, pulling out your phone from its pocket. You scrolled through your notifications, before clicking on a message from one of your friends.

You were so deep into the screen in front of you, that you didn’t hear the quiet footsteps approach the bench. You didn’t see the knife pointed directly at your face, or the masked man who’s gaze traveled down your form.

“Hey, you!” A voice coated with malice addressed you.

Your head shot up, and you reeled back at the large knife right in front of your nose. Your heartbeat quickened as you scrambled off the bench, the man only keeping pace with you as you backed away.

“You seem like a nice young lady, and I’d hate to ruin that pretty face of yours. Just give me everything you’ve got, and we can go our separate ways.”

“I don’t really have anything for you to take!” You said breathlessly, your hands shaking as you pulled miniscule items from your bag. He only ripped the entire thing from your grip, throwing it behind him.

“What about money? Hand everything over, sweet cheeks.”

You grimaced, before pulling the stack of bills the imp had given you from your person. He ripped them from your grip, before stuffing the money down his pocket.

“That’s all I have, I promise! Please let me go.” You begged, your back hitting the wall of an abandoned building behind you.

You prayed for someone to come to your rescue. Alastor graced your mind, that he’d swoop in to save you once more to save you. He was right, trouble never seemed to leave you.

This time, you’d let him tear this guy apart.

“What about jewelry, huh? I see that ring on your finger, it must cost quite a pretty penny.” The thug sleazed.

Instinctively, you brought your hand to your chest, trying to shield the band from his stare. The demon only closed the distance between the two of you, his mask grazing against your chin as he abruptly yanked you forward.

“Don't fight me, you bitch! Just give it to me, don’t make this difficult.”

His rough hand encircled around your wrist. It was harsh against your skin, and you winced in pain.

“Let go of me! I’ve already given you enough, just leave me alone!” You screamed, hoping someone would come to your aid.

He raked his hand down your finger, the ring slowly moving down your digit as he tried to dislodge it.

It was a snug fit against your skin, and it took him a few moments for him to begin pulling it off your finger. Tears pricked at your eyes as adrenaline pumped through your veins, but you dared not to move with the knife slightly pressing into your side.

Another tug, and the ring grazed over your nail as it was pulled harshly. It wasn’t able to make it past before something strange happened.

The ring ignited in a green flame, and the thug’s hand shot away as he yelled in pain. It licked at the tip of your finger, but you felt no heat from its touch.

You barely had time to blink, or scream before the ring exploded. It burst into a large cloud of green smoke that engulfed your figure. Shielding you from your surroundings. Energy crackled in the air, paired with a chill that made your breath visible as you gasped.

It felt like someone had reached out and gripped at the collar of your top, and you felt a much gentler tug and you were pulled backwards.

The smoke seemed to vanish, and you were drenched into darkness. You felt your feet lift off the ground, as if you were floating.

The problem, you had no idea where you were. Your heart felt like it was going to burst as you squeezed your eyes shut. It felt like hours went by, but in truth, it was only a matter of a few seconds that darkness surrounded you.

Just as quickly as it started, it ended, and your closed eyelids were hit with a ray of light. There were voices surrounding you as your feet touched on solid ground, the floor softer this time, like carpet.

The chatter stopped abruptly as you settled in place, and for a moment you felt like curling into a ball and hiding from whatever scene you had been thrusted into.

“Ah, there you are!” A familiar voice exclaimed next to you, static dripping from their words. “I was wondering how long it would be until you showed up!”

Wait a second, was that Alastor speaking? Was he responsible for whatever the hell just happened?

Your eyes slowly opened, revealing a large room covered in dark red wallpaper that cracked with age. Gold framed the edges, and lights mounted on the walls illuminated a few paintings that filled the empty space.

It looked like a lobby. Couches nestled in a corner around a small box tv. Next to that was a small bar, bottles of liquor stacked on shelves behind the counter.

Your eyes trailed away, before they landed on a small group of demons in front of you. Your breath quickened in fear, as you quickly scanned over their figures.

There was a woman in a red tuxedo, her mouth slightly parted in surprise. Long platinum-blonde hair tied into a neat ponytail as it traveled down her back. Beside her, a tall snake held a hand to his chest as he leaned back slightly, as if he was more afraid of you than you were of him.

There were a few others too, but your mind was racing so fast you weren’t able to get a settle on their frames before you eyes were bouncing around for an exit.

It wasn’t until you felt someone’s arm snake around your elbow did you whip your head to the side, Alastor’s large smile greeting you as he laced his arm with yours in comfort, no doubt noticing the way your knees were about to buckle.

“Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, my dear!” He exclaimed, as if your arrival was expected and totally-not-strange whatsoever. His eyes were soft, doing his best to calm you with his familiar presence. You opened your mouth to speak, even though you weren’t sure exactly what to say.

“Who the fuck is that?” The fuzzy, pink spider demon piped up from the shocked onlookers. A pair of hands on his hips as he regarded you with confusion.

Your lips upturned into a faint smile, and you lifted your hand for a half-hearted wave.

“Um, hi..?”

I hope you enjoyed part 2! Sorry for that cliff hanger 😭 i hate doing that but had to end it somewhere haha

and.. hold up yall…

for real?! i did not expect this my first month on this app, nor at all really 😍 what started as “just this one luci one-shot..” became so much more!

Thank you all for the support and love you’ve given me, lowkey itching to buy a computer just for writing (yes, all my fics have been written with sore thumbs haha)

HUGE thanks to @spoiled-slutt for being my beta reader and helping me brainstorm ideas for this part! They’ve been an amazing help, and you should definitely check out their works if they interest you! <3

have a great day, my swans! 🦢

—

taglist:

@the-tortured-poet @anonymousewrites @coleisyn @froggybich @chewbrry @watchinthestarz @mechanicalmari @luxmessorem @plapperlapapp @wonderlife974 @kottenox @cherry-cola-100 @the-shark-named-sharon @rae-pottah @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @corpsebridenightamare @pweewee @nijiru @ourfinalisation @anuttellaa @nonetheartist @bunnypeew @cryptidghostgirl @hxzbinwrites

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hellaverse #alastor

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disneyprincemuke · 10 months ago

Text

who the hell is rocky? * fem!driver

who the hell does sebastian keep calling 'rocky'?

pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, max verstappen x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver

notes: here ok now she has a nICKNAME OK IT'S ROCKY IT'S ROCKY OK BECAUSE SHE LIKES ROCKY ROAD ICE CREAM NOW

(series masterlist)

she presses her lips together, turning the knob and peeking in. “seb,” she whispers into the room. “are you in here?”

sebastian raises an eyebrow, tilting his head. “yeah, why?”

“great, so i wouldn’t feel as bad sneaking in here.” she pushes the door open and quickly shuts the door behind her. she beams at him, shoving her hands into her jacket. “hi!”

he looks up at her, head still hung low from the papers he was looking at. “what do you want?”

“oh, we’re playing hide and seek with jack and laura,” she grins, walking over to the empty seat at the his table. she sits down and tucks her legs under her body. “and oscar, logan, mick… liam… i’m not in the mood to be found so soon.”

“so you’re hiding here? in my office?” sebastian raises an eyebrow, looking back down at his papers. “isn’t that cheating?”

“they didn’t specify where i couldn’t hide.” she puts her palms down against his table with a small grin. she extends her neck a little bit. “what are you doing?”

he flips the papers towards his body, shielding its contents away from her. “i’m looking at data. you’re not a cheater — go play hide and seek properly.”

she shrugs nonchalantly. “i’m the oldest child. of course, i bend the rules to make sure i win.”

“really? oscar and logan let you do that growing up while they were around?”

“no, they put a stop to that when i turned 14,” she presses her lips together and rolls her eyes, shaking her head. “but they can’t erase that trait when i spent my whole life polishing it.”

sebastian blinks. “seriously?”

“yeah,” she nods excitedly. “how do you think i got this scar above my brow?”

“from falling down.”

“no, ciara and i fought cause i changed the rules at the last second so that i’d win and then she attacked me.” she lets a moment pass when sebastian finally lifts his head to stare at her. “we were playing uno — it’s a very intense game.”

he furrows his eyebrows. “get out of my office, rocky!”

sebastian approaches the two hunched over in the corner. “have you guys seen rocky?”

logan lifts his head. “rocky? who the hell is that?”

“hey, what are you guys doing?” they turn around, seeing the younger driver with an ice cream pint in her hand with mick trailing behind her.

“i told you to stop eating ice cream, god damn it!” sebastian screams, hands darting forward to grab the pint from her.

“hey, it’s the lactose intolerant one!” she shrieks, running to hide behind mick. the pint pokes out of the side towards logan. “want some?”

logan nods, taking the pint from her. “yeah, sure.”

“wait,” oscar speaks up, waving his arms in the air. “seriously, who is rocky?”

“this dumb ass,” sebastian scoffs, gesturing at the girl now eating her ice cream again. “all she ever eats is rocky road! hence, rocky! breakfast is rocky road, lunch is rocky road—”

“dinner is rocky road,” she mocks, stabbing her spoon into her pint. “it’s okay that i’m eating this because mick got me the no milk version!”

“that doesn’t even make sense! chocolate has milk in it! so does ice cream! do you know what ice cream is made out of?”

mick sighs. “she wouldn’t stop bugging me for ice cream, okay?”

logan laughs, throwing his head back. he clasps his hands together, “tomorrow we’ll teach you how to say ‘no’ to rocky. it took us a long time to figure it out too.”

“really? that’s just what everyone is gonna call me now?” she tilts her head, shoving a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. “we spend our whole lives without giving me a nickname and seb just comes along and calls me ‘rocky’ and everyone is just gonna ride along with that?”

“yeah, you can say that,” oscar nods with a smile. “it’s fitting, anyway. you would die for rocky road ice cream… right?”

“fair argument.”

“max,” oscar whispers. “have you seen rocky?”

max raises an eyebrow, pausing his conversation with charles. he tilts his head. “yeah, she’s in my garage.”

oscar throws his head back, blinking blankly at the older driver. “what would rocky be doing in your garage?”

“what do you mean? she’s part of my team,” max trails off in confusion, lips pursed in confusion. he glances at charles next to him, who simply shrugs and looks at oscar as well.

“no, she’s not. what business would she have being in your garage?” oscar raises an eyebrow. “unless you guys are scouting her for the future?”

“what? we’ve had rocky on the team for months.”

“she wouldn’t do that. she doesn’t like red bull.”

“red bull literally created her.”

“no they didn’t.”

charles furrows his eyebrows, looking between both of them. “see, i don’t think you guys are talking about the same thing.”

max points at oscar. “what are you talking about?”

“who are you talking about?”

“my race car? her name is rocky.”

oscar’s frustration slowly washes away as realisation dawns over him. he’d completely forgotten that max named his car. he laughs slightly. “right! sorry, mate. i was talking about (y/n),” he explains. “rocky.”

max raises an eyebrow. “who passed the bill to call her that?”

“seb.”

“oh, seb is good with nicknames!” charles beams, patting oscar’s shoulder. he presses his lips together. “why rocky though? that doesn’t really…”

“she eats a lot of rocky road ice cream,” oscar smiles. “therefore, the nickname.”

max frowns. “she’s got the same name as my car… that’s not… that will be confusing.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @leilanixx @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @cashtons-wife @sadg3 @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts @darleneslane @inejismywife @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @love4lando

#logan sargeant x reader #sebastian vettel x reader #max verstappen x reader #mick schumacher x reader #oscar piastri x reader #fem!driver #female driver #f1 fem!driver #f1 female driver #vettel reincarnate #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke vr #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #f1 grid x reader

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syrupfog · 4 months ago

Text

Luffy grew up with two brothers who, at first, hated him and kicked the shit out of him. Then, eventually, loved him and who expressed that love through kicking the shit out of him.

Luffy's grown up with a low level of violence as love his whole life.

His crew is the same, from very early on. Nami will beat on anyone (or at least any of the boys), and Zoro's been known to land a punch to the back of his head at every dumb remark he makes.

And Sanji... his kicks are INTENSE.

Luffy's lucky he's made of rubber.

and he laughs it all off-- because it's FUNNY. He knows his crew loves him, they're his CREW. He knows his brothers loved him, they're his BROTHERS. Luffy has always known violence as a form of love, although notably he rarely reflects that methodology onto others.

When Luffy meets Law the first time, Law watches as Luffy punches a Celestial Dragon in the face. That violence is, obviously, NOT a form of love.

When Luffy meets Law the second time, it's when Law is saving his life, doing impossible levels of knitting him back together.

Luffy doesn't remember a lot of that bit, or the bit right after, on Amazon Lily, when the grief is at its strongest.

But then, two years later, he sees Law again on Punk Hazard, and they form an alliance, and Luffy declares that Law is a good guy.

No one else agrees.

But when has Luffy ever cared about other peoples' opinions? Now certainly isn't the time to start. Law gave all those pirates new legs. He saved Luffy. He's good.

and then Law is travelling with them, aboard the Sunny.

And he's mean and grouchy and short tempered and, again, everyone is wary of him.

Luffy's not, of course, because that's just how Law is, but he's confused.

Because no matter how many times Law snaps or yells or threatens to slice people apart, he's never violent. He doesn't throw punches or kick or draw his sword.

Which does make Luffy wonder if he's done something wrong, that Law doesn't feel like he can be free with Luffy, to go after him when he says something stupid. Everyone else does, is it because he's the captain? But Law's captain too, and they're in an alliance, they're equal.

But he doesn't say anything on it-- and even in Dressrosa, when Law tries to tell him the alliance is over, Luffy knows he wouldn't attack him even if he could. And it's confusing. He couldn't count the amount of times Ace landed a punch on him just for waking him up wrong.

After all that is said and done, and they land on Zou, and Luffy meets the Heart Pirates in all their glory, all twenty of them, he doesn't know if he gets more confused or less.

The Heart Pirates LOVE their captain (as they should, Traffy is great!) and clearly would do anything for him, starting with those dorky poses they strike. And they yell at him for abandoning them, but they don't get violent with Law, and doesn't get violent with them. He sort of just... lets them yell at him and then talks over them.

It's weird.

This isn't a thought that keeps Luffy up at night so much as it's a thought that he returns to whenever he looks at Law, reclining as his crew tries to get him to talk about what happened, or whenever Luffy's getting literally kicked out of the kitchen by Sanji.

It's a fact that Luffy puzzles on even in Wano, as Law is passively letting Luffy ruin every plan and then announcing that he planned FOR Luffy to ruin every plan.

He doesn't hit Luffy for ruining his plan. He doesn't even elbow him in the side.

Before Luffy had seen Law with his own crew on Zou, he had thought that maybe Law didn't really like him. But after seeing Law interacting with his crew, he started to reevaluate. Law loves his crew, and although he threatens to use his Room on them (and maybe sometimes he does), that's not a violent thing. They can pop back together like Kin'emon did.

But Luffy wonders-- what does it mean to be close with someone without feeling the freedom to get physical with them?

He wonders this and doesn't have an answer, because that's never been his world.

And of course, what Luffy doesn't know, is that Law grew up with that violence. Had those formative years with Doflamingo, where he was taught to fight and lived with a family who was just as violent as Luffy's own. He was full of hatred and happily took it out on people.

And the only difference was Cora-- who at first was just as violent, to be fair, throwing him out a window and all that.

But Cora who saw him as someone that could be saved, who sacrificed everything from his mission to his life, to give Law freedom of a different kind— the freedom of gentleness. The freedom that comes from being able to live for yourself. The freedom that comes from being loved enough that the one who loves you gave it all up for you.

He gave Law everything he had, and he held him tight and told him it would all be okay.

And it wasn't, because Cora's gone, but Law took that love and internalized it, and from the very start the first thing he does is save Bepo from being hurt.

He gathers a crew little by little and does so by giving them second chances like he was given, and gives them safety— including physical safety. Because separating himself from Doflamingo and that hatred means also separating himself from that senseless violence that comes from growing up in organized crime.

Law's crew respects him because, despite his prickly exterior, he's stoically kind.He's using his fruit to help and to heal-- even when he gives those pirate hearts to the marines, did he kill them? Debatable.

Law has worked hard to excise that violence from his life, and Luffy can see that even when no one else on his crew seems to notice.

And Luffy doesn't know why-- doesn't understand it-- but god it makes him smile wide when he sees Law snap at someone and knows that he can trust that Law won't hurt.

It's like having a wild animal, capable of destruction, lay lazily at your feet.

Luffy wants that. It's an addicting feeling, to feel safe in that way.

He loves his crew and he loves his brothers and he's made of rubber-- they couldn't hurt him, wouldn't hurt him.

But the secret gentle kindness of Law is addicting.

#lulaw #lawlu #one piece #my writing #this uh really popped off on twitter and i got a little scared honestly #anyway tumblr is safer i like tumblr more

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harstyle · 10 months ago

Text

pretty

Summary: Your good friend Harry Styles might just be the hottest, most gentleman-liest guy you‘ve ever laid eyes on, so it really is a shame that you‘re not his type. featuring lotsss of pining, insecurities on both sides and a hefty crying sesh (it‘s all a bit pathetic and cheesy really😭)

Pairing: uni-student!y/n + uni-student!harry

Word Count: 6.2k

—

“You’re beautiful, y’know that?”

He was impossibly close, nose mere inches away from hers, and held this expression that could easily make her cry if only she looked at it long enough. Y/N couldn’t handle the pressure of the moment, his intense eyes on hers. It was something out of a romance movie.

And she was left so speechless that all she could say to him was: “uh, t-thanks. Thanks. You too.” It wasn‘t like she disagreed with him, but the sheer intensity, the closeness with which he delivered his compliment made her weak at the knees.

He smiled at her like he’d known she would cower away and brushed some stray hairs away from her eyes. “James doesn’t deserve you. You know that, right?”

In full transparency, Y/N had forgotten all about James. She’d forgotten the reason for her tears the moment Harry had shown up at her flat to give her that long hug she’d been needing.

The only reason James had stumbled into her life at all was Harry anyway. Call it a distraction, a means to numb the jealousy she felt whenever she saw Harry out with another girl.

“I get it, though. I should’ve known he’d be that way, people warned me before going out with him. That he only takes out cheerleaders. Should’ve known he did it for a laugh.”

Harry was similar to James in that regard— he had a type and everyone knew it. Y/N didn’t fall under his category of ‘girls to date’. She often wondered why she always went for guys who would never even look in her direction— a bit of self hatred, maybe. A will to punish herself.

“Hey, stop that. You’re beautiful. Don’t find excuses for his behavior.”

“I’m not, I just… I should’ve seen it coming, is all.”

“No, what we’re not going to do is blame ourselves for other people’s mistakes. James fucked up. He did. And that’s it. You move on, you come back stronger and show him he didn’t leave even a tiny scratch.”

“You’re right. Of course.”

He smiled, “do you feel better?”

“A bit,” Y/N nodded with a sturdy exhale, “thanks for being there for me always. I really appreciate it.”

“What are best friend for, ey?”

It never felt less unnerving to hear those words coming out of his mouth. And really, she knew that realistically they were nothing more, but sometimes, especially late at night when no one was around and all of her uni stress had been shoved into a closet for the day, Y/N let herself believe it was real. That he liked her back. She needed to get a grip and open her eyes to the cold harsh truth; that a friend was all she would ever be in his eyes.

She swallowed a lump in her throat and averted her eyes towards her interlinked fingers. “Yeah.”

“You okay?”

Y/N had long mastered the art of feigning a smile, so it came easily for her to flash her teeth at Harry in this moment.

“Course. Let’s make some dinner, I’m hungry.”

—

“Hey, it’s Y/N right?”

Y/N had seen this girl around before. She remembered because every time she would pass by on campus, Y/N had to admire her beauty; how her makeup always seemed effortless and her clothes complimented her perfect figure in just the right way, how her hair was always in a wave that Y/N could never perfectly recreate and her walk never droopy or tired, perfected by an angelic touch.

Y/N didn’t know this girl, but she’d always wanted to be like her.

“Yeah, hi.” Despite the inherent intimidation, Y/N smiled at her, “can I help you?”

Y/N felt ugly standing in front of her. She’d had to rush out of bed this morning for her analysis class, forgotten mascara and her staple lip balm. She looked monstrously unwell.

“My name’s Iris, I was wondering… god, this is a bit embarrassing, but you’re good friends with Harry, right?”

Y/N saw where this was going off of the jump. It happened way too often for her not to.

And her heart broke just a little more then, because so far, it’d been random girls she’d known stood no chance with Harry. But Iris was just perfectly crafted for him, cookie cutter pretty and impressively confident. She had everything Y/N was still hastily working on.

“Uh, yeah.”

“I was wondering if you could give him my number? I saw him at the party last night and we chatted for a bit, but I forgot to write it down for him.”

Y/N had been at that party too, she just hadn’t seen that. Harry had barely even left her side. Must’ve been when she‘d gone to the bathroom.

“Oh, sure.”

“Great! Thank you so much.”

Iris handed her a little post it with her digits written along with a lovely note about having had a fun time.

Y/N walked to her 8am analysis class with a crucial feeling of hatred for the world and everything in it bubbling in her chest.

—

“Hi, babe.” Harry pressed a kiss to Y/N’s cheek like it was normal before finding his reserved seat next to her, surprising both her and their friends. If Kacy was all too shocked, though, she didn‘t show it, simply widening her grin in response to Harry‘s presence. “Hi, guys.”

“You finally showed up!” Kacy exclaimed, drawing the attention on him with her loud voice. Harry was so busy that he could be hard to track down, which made him an easy target for the occasional jab. In all fairness, he’d seen Y/N almost every day, just not his other friends— and in full honesty, that had been enough for him.

“Yeah, sorry, finals week.”

“Y/N found the time,” Sebastian chimed in, tone laced with a tinge of earnestness, although Y/N and Harry could tell he was only teasing.

Harry retorted fairly quickly, “cause she has no other social life.”

At Harry’s words Y/N turned her head at him, mouth dropping open in genuine offense. She couldn’t do anything other than laugh, but really she should’ve hit him for saying that. “So you’re a whore and a backstabber!”

Harry cackled, that beautiful laugh escaping his mouth and blessing her ears, pulling her into his side and hugging around her frame. “I’m only joking!”

“Whatever. I’m not speaking to you the rest of the night.”

“Sure. You try that and we’ll see how that works out for you, babe.”

Everyone but them saw what their future could look like if they both stopped being stubborn and admitted their feelings for one another. Even sitting here, Kacy could see the way Y/N’s lips molded into a smile at Harry’s touch and the way he beamed whenever she played into his antics. Their bond was effortless in the way many couples wished theirs to be— it looked so easy for them to mesh together. Their friends knew they could be happy together and it frustrated them to see no progress being done.

By the end of the night, Y/N and Harry were blubbering drunk messes leaving the bar together. Y/N had taken it upon herself to call the uber back to his for the night.

“God, that was sooo fun,” Harry slurred out, “shame they’re closing soon.”

“You should come more often, we do this every week!”

Both Y/N and Harry were all smiles, looking at each other with excitement radiating from their bodies. It’d been long since they’d really let go.

“I’m so happy you’re here with me, you know that?”

Her heart rate plummeted.

Sometimes Harry said things drunk that wouldn’t pass as ‘normal’ when sober. He was close, grinning at her like a puppy in love and spoke with such confidence that Y/N was sure he couldn’t have not meant it.

“I’m happy you’re here, too, H.”

“No, like seriously though. You’re the best person I know.”

Heat rushed to Y/N’s cheeks. He was really testing her waters here.

“Oi, shut it. What do you want from me? Why’re you buttering me up?”

Harry shrugged, “nothin’. You really are. Just accept the compliment.”

“Fine,” Y/N smiled in a bashful manner, “thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.”

Y/N stared at her boots, grinning to herself. Comfortable silence went on for a few short minutes, just the sound of the wind wafting by and quiet, calm breathing. Occasionally a car they looked up to to check it wasn’t their ride.

It was such a nice atmosphere.

Y/N was sure nothing could ruin this night for her. She was so happy, so careless in the way uni had long prohibited her from being. She wanted to exist in her little snug bubble forever, a place to hide from the real world with the person she admired most. She‘d sacrifice anything if she could keep this feeling for a bit longer.

And then, as if the universe disagreed with Y/N‘s pursuit of happiness, a needle set out to burst her bubble.

That needle was Harry, and outside of the bubble, it was cold.

“Can I kiss you?”

The ground beneath her shattered at his words.

Was he… serious?

Because this was her dream. If he‘d been serious, then her dreams had come true in exactly the worst way.

Y/N had wanted a kiss from Harry since they’d become friends all those years ago, but not like this. Not drunk. Not on some stupid impulse. Not when they would wake up and realize it had been a mistake in a few hours. If she’d been willing to risk their relationship because of one shortlived kiss, she would’ve done it a long time ago.

He couldn’t do this to her! He couldn’t do this because to her, this wasn’t just fun. It wasn’t a cute little memory to look back on. Oh remember when we got drunk and kissed? Wasn’t that so funny? No, to her this was more. It was her whole livelihood, the cruxes which her heart depended on. It sounded so ridiculous, but that was what love had done with her.

So although it hurt more than anything she’d ever had to do, Y/N shook her head. Her head barely moved, like her brain was plotting against it as well as her heart, but it did shake just enough to give him an inkling.

“Don’t think that’s a good idea.”

He was quiet for a few seconds (although she could feel his eyes burning a hole into her) before eventually retorting with a weakened, “why not?”.

“You’re drunk.”

“Been wanting to for a long time, Y/N.”

“Harry,” she stressed, voice quivering. Her next words came out in a whisper, “shut up.”

This time, he surrendered.

They waited for their uber in complete silence and when it came for them to sleep, Harry chose to stay on the couch instead of sharing the bed with her. Although Y/N was excruciatingly tired, she couldn’t for the life of her close her eyes.

She’d fucked up so badly.

—

Y/N felt slightly out of place as she slid into Harry’s kitchen in the morning. She looked at him already sat at the breakfast table with an array of pastries waiting.

“Hey.”

Harry nodded, “hi, help yourself. Went to the bakery on my run.”

“Thanks,” she murmured quietly, almost to herself. She was too scared to look at him.

“I don’t want it to be awkward between us, so I’ll just cut to the chase: I’m sorry about last night. I know I was drunk and weird and it won’t happen again. You were right.”

Y/N’s eyebrows shot up just slightly, the sheer surprise evident on her features. He was really bringing it up now!

“… right about…?”

“Bout it not being a good idea. I’ve never… I was really out of it, you know? Wouldn’t have asked you otherwise.”

Wow. Yes, obviously it would’ve been a mistake, Y/N knew that more than anyone. But his apology did more damage than good. It was like a knife was being pushed through her chest, agonizingly slow as to make it more painful. Harry had confirmed exactly how uninterested he was in trying anything more with her and it just about devastated her. And yes, in all fairness, it was unjust because she’d been the one to reject him last night but a tiny sliver of hope that he would reach out his arms and say ‘I still feel the same, I still want to kiss you!’ had still possessed her delusional mind all night.

“Oh, that. Yeah.”

Harry tried to catch her eyes, “so are we cool?”

“We’re cool.”

Y/N was barely floating now. She didn’t want to eat, didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to exist.

It hurt too much to exist sometimes.

“Y/N?”

She snapped out of it. “Hm? yeah?”

“You okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. You just reminded me of this girl I met yesterday, Iris,“ her shaking hand slid into her pocket to find the little note she‘d kept stored and handed it to him without making eye contact. Her body was on fire.

“Oh.”

“She wanted me to give you her number, said something about a party where you lot met.”

Y/N watched as realization dawned on him, probably a fleeting memory of Iris now soberly imprinted on his mind. She could imagine all the ways in which he thought about somebody like Iris, somebody who would be so perfect for him.

“Right. Thank you.”

“No problem. I should probably head out to mine and get a few uni things done before I get too lazy.”

Unprompted, Harry ignored her statement. She had a feeling he didn’t even want to hear her. “I didn’t want to text her. Completely forgot about her, actually.”

Y/N couldn’t find the answer as to why.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I didn’t… I don’t really like her like that.”

“Really? Iris was under the impression that… I mean, maybe she’s mistaken, but she told me about your little hangout sesh and it seemed nice, you know?” Harry’s eyes held something a little different— confusion, curiosity and a bit of sadness. It drove Y/N crazy deciphering him. “And Iris seems exactly like the type of girl you’d like.”

Then his eyebrows drew together, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

Y/N shrugged, body sinking and slowly becoming one with the chair, “just… pretty, is all.”

“A lot of girls are pretty, Y/N, doesn’t mean I automatically wanna date them when I talk to them once.”

“Yeah, but… Iris is your kind of pretty. She’s confident and I’m sure she’s funny.”

“My kind of pretty? What are you implying?”

“Nothing! Jesus, Harry, I just think Iris would be a good fit for you. She’s your type, is all.”

Harry scoffed like he took offense to Y/N’s reply, “and I’m sure you know exactly what my type is, huh? Cause I’m so surface level that I’m only into the same girl, yeah? What, blonde and tall?”

“Harry, that’s not—“

“Then what do you mean to say by that?”

“I just—“

“You’re boxing me together with that dickhead James!”

“No, Harry, I’m not— and if you would just listen to me, you’d understand that!” Y/N finally broke, raising her voice by a few notches so Harry would hear her over his loud accusations. “I’m not implying to you, by thinking you might be into her, that you’re surface level. I’m just saying, Iris seems like she would be your type because in the past, you’ve gone for girls like her. That isn’t bad, okay? I’m not criticizing, just pointing out. You’re into pretty girls.”

“Prettiness is subjective, Y/N, and what you’re doing right now is putting me in a box. What does that even mean, pretty girls? Clearly you’re implying I only date girls that are conventionally attractive because that’s my definition of pretty.”

“So what if it is? I didn’t say it’s anything bad,” Y/N leaned back in the chair, volume lowering as if she couldn’t argue with that statement. “Everybody’s allowed a type.”

“It’s just… you’re using the word type in a derogatory way.”

“How the fuck am I using the word type in a derogatory way?”

“Sounds like you’re saying I’m some dickhead who only goes off of looks. Only goes for tall blonde girls cause they’re tall blonde girls and not because they’re nice people.”

“When did I say that?!” Y/N was bewildered by this. She hadn’t meant anything bad by it! “I have a type too, you know that! And that’s okay!”

“Oh yeah fucking tell me about your type, Y/N, go on.”

“What is your problem?”

“My problem is that you were just crying about James only dating cheerleaders a week ago and now you’re here putting the same thing on me!” Y/N breathed out in distress, finding less ways of deescalating the situation. “Be honest, then, what do you really think of me?”

“What are you even… I love you, H, I’m your best friend, I would never dream of insulting you. I was just saying that you seem to have a type, which there is nothing with!”

“So then what does pretty mean?”

“Just… pretty, okay? Don’t read too much into it.”

“No, I want to hear it. Describe pretty to me.” The word pretty had been spoken out so many times in such vain, that its meaning had became trivial at best.

“I don’t know, H, Girls like Jess, Angelina, Diana, Elle… which, if you were to write out their characteristics; they’re all blonde, tall, skinny girls. I’m not saying that you go off of looks, but I do think you have preferences, and that’s fine. That’s healthy, even.”

Then he scoffed again, but significantly quieter this time around. “Right, you brought the fucking receipts to the table, didn’t you? Do you usually think so lowly of me everywhere you go?”

It hurt to have this distance between her and Harry. They’d always gotten along so well before, so why did this have to become what it had? It had all come out of nowhere and Y/N didn’t have the strength or the energy to lose the one thing she constantly depended on to be okay.

“I don’t… Harry, I don’t think lowly of you. I just thought that you might like Iris.”

“I’m sure you did then.”

“Harry,” she sighed, “please, I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

“I didn’t, got it perfectly clear. So one question though, am I allowed to like brunettes? Or is that too daring?”

“Harry, stop. Why are you being such a dickhead?”

“I’m being a dickhead?”

“Yes, you are.”

“At least I have history with girls for you to come to that conclusion yourself, right? Maybe when you find the courage to actually talk to a guy I’ll be able to find out what your kind of pretty is.”

And it wasn’t meant to be a jab, surely, at least not a terribly painful one, but it hit Y/N stronger than she would have liked. Who was he, making fun of her dating life? This wasn’t the Harry who reassured her after every pathetic bad date, who convinced her that it would be okay if she didn’t find her man straight away as long as she was happy. She’d loved Harry for a year now and there was something so liberating in exploring unknown territory, in partaking in the so called ‘chase’ (maybe somewhat masochistic, liking the torment of the unknown) but that feeling came to a full stop now that it had become clear that Harry didn’t love her back. Before, it had been speculation— now, it was real. And although she’d expected pain, this was cold blooded torture.

Harry didn’t look regretful, but that was because he had no idea what his words actually meant for her. Sometimes she wondered how the people she loved most could hurt her so much as to kick her down to the ground and repeatedly stomp on her lifeless body.

Without a word, Y/N stiffened her shoulders in an attempt to seem stronger and stood up from the table with a low intake of breath.

“Y/N.”

“Fuck you, Harry,” she muttered quietly but defiantly as she slipped on her shoes and opened the door out.

She didn’t have anywhere to go, but she knew anywhere else would suffice better than here.

—

Y/N wasn’t even surprised when she saw Harry and Iris arriving at the party together with the biggest smiles on their faces. Kacy turned to her and widened her eyes, motioning to the couple by the door with a questioning stare. Y/N simply shrugged.

She’d been hurting by herself, cramped away in her flat with a bottle of wine and three boxes of tissues and hoping for a little break when Kacy had asked her out tonight— but here he was, ready to ruin her minute of relief.

“She gave him her number through me last week… guess he finally called her.” Y/N explained, lowering her voice. “We haven’t talked since that morning after the bar.”

Kacy’s eyes widened again, because the last time Y/N had spent so much time away from Harry had been Christmas— and even then, they’d called each other every day.

“Why?”

Y/N simply shook her head, unwilling to elaborate. All Kacy could do was pull her into a tight hug and ask her what she wanted to do next.

“I just…” Y/N’s breaths shook, “I’m so tired, Kace.”

And although Y/N had never brought up the topic of Harry, Kacy knew exactly what she was referring to and her heart broke for her friend.

“Let’s go to one of the bedrooms.”

Y/N gave a stuffy nod and followed as Kacy lead the way upstairs.

Once they sat down, Y/N began to open her mouth. Her arms hugged around her own frame and tears were building in her eyes.

“Talk to me, Y/N. What happened?”

“He… I don’t know, Kace, he just got so mad at me. I was giving him Iris’ number and he said that he didn’t like her. I told him he should probably call her because I think she’d be good for him— I think I said ‘she’s your type’ or something like that, which is a normal thing to say! And then he went ballistic on me.” Y/N sniffed her nose, “I was just trying to be nice. He started accusing me of finding him surface level even though I implied no such thing.“

“Oh, honey,” it was through Kacy’s pitiful expression that Y/N noticed the ugly tears cascading down her swollen cheeks. “I don’t wanna make you feel worse, babe, but that doesn’t sound like Harry. Maybe you worded something wrong? Or he just heard you wrong?”

“No, I tried multiple times to clear it up, but he kept the attitude.”

“What did he say?”

“Well, I said that he likes pretty girls and he said what do you mean pretty girls? and so I described what I thought his type was, which is tall blondes, you know? And I even said that having preferences is healthy and that I don’t mind but he thought I was boxing him in. But don’t you agree? Isn’t that his type?” Kacy took too long to answer, making Y/N grow insecure, “Come on, he only dates tall blondes!”

“That’s not even true, Y/N. What about Vanessa?”

She rolled her eyes, “fine, one tall redhead.”

“It’s not that, it’s just… I think he was offended because he thought you were calling him some kind of jerk who only goes off of looks.”

“But he’s… he’s great, Kace, really, and I love him, but he does always date attractive supermodel type girls. I mean, good for him, but you know? And I don’t at all think I’m ugly, I think I’m pretty, but not his kind of pretty.”

“Okay, but… okay, what were you talking about before the whole Iris thing?”

“It’s a long story,” Y/N groaned, head falling into her hands, “when we were drunk he asked me if he could kiss me. I said no.”

“What?! Why would you say no?”

“Because we were drunk! And then the next morning he said I was right, that it would’ve been a mistake and we would’ve regretted it.”

Kacy’s mouth was kind of wide open, “and then you brought up Iris?”

“Yes, because I needed a change of topic.”

“But right after that he said he didn’t like Iris.”

“Yes.”

“And then you accused him of being surface level and he got mad?”

“Kacy, I literally didn’t! I—“ Y/N stopped defending herself because she knew she couldn’t cheat her way out of it. “Yes, maybe, okay? So what?”

“So he totally loves you.”

At that point Y/N started laughing— a genuine laugh made its way out of her mouth and she started shaking her head. Her laugh simmered down to a little chuckle and then she got tears in her eyes again. It was taxing to have feelings sometimes.

“Right, sure. Hope you stretched before you took that fucking reach! He said right before that he’d never have asked if he was sober.”

“He was saving face because you refused to kiss him.”

“Kacy, no,” she sighed, “don’t feed me that bullshit. You’re going to give me hope and I can’t take any more of that, okay?”

“He got mad you think he only likes blondes because he loves you and you don’t even see it,” Kacy elaborated even further, which bothered Y/N on so many levels.

“I can’t, Kace,” Y/N cried, covering her eyes with her palms and letting the tears flow out, “I’m so fucking tired of feeling unwanted and like I’m not enough. Like whatever I do, there’s still some other girl who gets his attention. I can’t go on loving him and being his second girl every day. He goes on bad sex dates and comes home to me, goes to parties where he does body shots off of other girls, and then cuddles me in bed. I just can’t do it. One day he’ll get married and expect me to be his best man and that’s way more than I can take.”

“Look, I understand, but all you need to do is talk to him.”

“I can’t!”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to lose him.”

“Isn’t it better to lose him now than to feel like this every day and lose him in a few years when you’ve physically broken yourself down over it? Isn’t it better to know? I know you won’t lose him because I see the way he looks at you and I see how he treats you. And he’d be stupid not to like you back. But if I‘m wrong, wouldn‘t it still be better to know?“

“No. I can do without knowing. If he knows and he doesn’t feel the same it’ll be weird and I can’t lose him. I can’t, Kace, he’s the only thing holding me together. Look at me, I’m such a fucking mess.”

“Y/N, eyes up,” Kacy ordered, taking ahold of Y/N’s forearm and forcing her to look at her, “you’re allowed little moments of weakness. Love does crazy things sometimes. You need to tell him or you’ll regret it the rest of your life.”

Y/N’s eyes stung hard.

The door opened in that moment, forcing the sound of the music into the otherwise quiet room with a force. Both girls looked up to find Harry by the door, his eyebrows drawn together in concern at the sight of his teary eyed best friend. It didn’t matter what they were going through, their bond was strong enough for him to know something was seriously wrong.

“Are you okay?”

It was then that Kacy took her cue to leave, to Y/N’s dismay, and stood up from the chair to let Harry take her place. She closed the door behind her to give the two of them privacy.

“Y/N, you okay?”

“Yeah,” she tried to smile, though due to the tears it was clear as day that she was perpetually telling him lies whenever he asked her that question. “I’m okay.”

“Hey, come on,” he whispered into the quiet, inching closer to trap her chin between his fingers, “tell me what’s wrong. Did some asshole hurt you?”

“Yeah,” she nodded with a small sniffle. The asshole is you. “I’m just… having boy trouble. It’s okay. You should go back to the party.”

“Fuck the party. Who hurt you? Do you want me to go beat him up? Did he touch you?” He’d started raking over her body to check for bruises, a tick in his jaw.

“No! God, no, I’ll get over it.” I couldn’t ever get over you. “Isn’t Iris waiting for you? I saw you arrive together.”

“Oh,” his features hardened for a split second. Y/N blinked and it was gone. “No, we ran into each other outside and talked for a bit. She asked me out, so… I think I’m going to go.”

It was like he was testing her, staring into her eyes to capture the exact moment she crumbled. But she didn’t. She held her head high and gave a subtle nod. “Sounds good.”

He sighed. It was quiet and could almost be classified as a simple exhale, but she knew it wasn’t.

“So who’s the guy?”

Sometimes he could be so oblivious that Y/N wondered how he’d made it so far in life. Surely he was only playing the part, right?

“Doesn’t matter,” Y/N shrugged. She was starting to cry again. “He’s insignificant.” You could never be insignificant to me.

“Should I talk to him?”

Yeah, that would be good. “No, no, it’s fine. I’ll just… get over him.”

“Well I don’t like seeing you hurt, baby,” he tilted his head, cupping over her jaw and brushing over her skin delicately. The room was dimly lit to make it all the more romantic, but Y/N couldn’t fully be immersed in it. “No guy is worth your tears. You’re beautiful and brave and so so funny. I’m so lucky to have you in my life, Y/N. You’re the most perfect girl there ever was and if he can’t see that, then he doesn’t deserve you.”

He couldn’t do this to her. He couldn’t speak of her the way she always wished he would speak of her, but not mean it. It showed her what he was capable of— loving her, paying her attention the right way. She was left shattered.

“See, you say that, but you…” Y/N broke down in tears, “but nobody ever means it.”

He tilted her head up so he could stare deeply into her eyes and utter his next words in full honesty, “I mean it. I promise you, Y/N, I mean what I said with everything I have in my body. I mean it every time I say it when I’m drunk and I mean it when I’m sober. I mean it when you’ve just woken up and I mean it when we’re studying together at night. I mean it and I will always mean it.”

Instead of making her happy, his words made her cry even more.

“Harry,” she cried, bending her neck forward so the top of her head rested on his chin, “it hurts so much.”

“Come on, baby, it’s not worth it.” Then he started kissing the crown of her head, moving down to her temple and rubbing circles into her shoulders. “It’s not worth it.”

But he was worth it. He clouded her vision and made her feel lightheaded. He had the power to make her cry and the power to make her so unbelievably happy that she couldn’t imagine having ever been unhappy. He made her wonder how she could’ve lived such a mediocre, painful life before he’d entered it— that was the kind of power he possessed.

Y/N didn’t have to think twice about kissing him, she just did. She looked up at Harry and inched closer to rest her lips on his, and it caused emotions in her body she didn’t even know were possible. Harry seemed surprised but he caught on fairly quickly, letting her take the lead in the kiss until it’d been a few seconds and he felt her deepening it.

He pulled away, eyes finally opening.

She was startled. “Sorry, did I hurt you?”

He shook his head gently, letting a reassuring smile sit on his lips, “no, but I’m worried about you. I don’t think it’s a good idea to do this when you’re crying over another guy, you know? I don’t want to be your numbing medication.”

“You’re… not,” her eyebrows drew together.

“You didn’t want to kiss me last week. It’s seeming like an ‘I miss another guy so I’ll hook up with you to numb the pain’ situation and I just… I don’t want either of us to regret it.”

He was trying to be nice— and he was, really was, but the sinking feeling in Y/N’s stomach worsened.

“That’s because we were drunk last week.”

“You’re hurting over another person, Y/N.”

“He’s not important, I just want to kiss you. I want to mess around with you. Okay? Because I want to, not because I’m into some other dickhead.”

Harry seemed to have trouble believing her, “I can’t.”

“Okay, whatever. It’s fine.” Y/N stood up from her chair, creating some distance between her and Harry and started walking away from him. He held onto her hand though, preventing her from moving too far.

“Y/N, come on.”

“No, genuinely, I don’t want to coerce you into having sex with me, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

She was being honest. She didn’t want Harry to feel like she was using him under false pretenses.

But having him think that was still better than confessing.

“I didn’t think you were coercing me into doing anything, Y/N, I just don’t want you to regret it.”

“Yeah,” tears built in her eyes again and she bit her lip to hold them in, “you’re a really good guy, Harry.”

When he stood up to offer her comfort, she immediately took a step back and held her hand in front of her in an effort to force him away. “Please don’t.”

“Y/N…” He looked pained and thoroughly confused at her cold behavior. Harry knew she tended to close off whenever she felt bad about herself, but that had applied mostly to other people. Harry, on the other hand, had always been successful in finding a way to pull back her in.

“No, I’m embarrassed. Jesus, I’m such a mess! I was talking about this with Kacy, I‘m just… I‘m all over the place.”

“You’re not a mess. You’re hurting, that’s normal.”

“I just asked you to fuck me, that’s… who the fuck does that? Since when am I like this?”

“Since you’ve been hurt,” he countered, “love makes you do weird things. God knows I get a bit crazy too when I’m in love.”

“No you don’t,” she said to him, voice hoarse and uncomfortable, “you’re fucking Mr. Perfect. Everyone loves you and you’re hot and you’ve got the brilliant mind. You can’t do anything wrong.”

“Everyone doesn’t love me,” he replied with a leveled tone, “if everyone loved me, I’d be with the girl of my dreams right now. But I’m not, so… not everyone.”

“Can’t fucking imagine that,�� Y/N muttered, wiping under her eyes. “You probably just communicate badly and she doesn’t know you love her.”

“Same with you.”

Y/N’s heart squeezed painfully in her chest.

“He’s way out of my league.”

“Who is this guy anyway? You’re gonna hype him up to me and not even let me know who it is?”

“He’s, uh…” Y/N walked further away from him and sat down at the edge of the bed, covering her face with her hands, “he’s from uni. Tall, dark brown hair, green eyes, sometimes glasses. He’s really nice but dates girls who are the complete opposite of me. And I just… whenever I look in the mirror, I’m reminded of just how… unattractive I am compared to them— and don’t get me wrong, I’m fine with me but they’re just better. I can’t keep up with it. And god, I feel so pathetic talking about myself like this but he’s just… he‘s so perfect and I love him and I don’t want to lose him. He makes me doubt myself sometimes, you know?“

At the latest he must’ve known now. Y/N could hear his brain professing that information, double and triple checking all possibilities until it dawned on him that she was talking about him.

He cleared his throat, stepping closer. “So he’s… where do you know him from again?”

A short pause before committing to the method, “we met at the fresher’s party three years ago.”

“And you see each other a lot, I assume.”

Y/N was still not looking at him, head buried in her hands.

“We… yeah. We hang out every day. He’s mad at me right now though.”

“So you… you love me.”

She didn’t answer, but she didn’t need to. She’d given up, left it all to fate; if he would turn her away and never talk to her again or ask to continue being friends. It all became obsolete.

“I’m sorry,” she muffled into the palms of her hands.

“D’you wanna hear about the girl I’m in love with? Have been in love with for a year now?” Y/N wanted to shake her head, but she didn’t, so he continued. “She’s from uni too, spends about three nights a week at my flat even though hers is bigger. She can be really distant, but when she gives you attention it’s like the whole world healed. She’s so sweet and considerate and brings me little gifts sometimes and even though she’s damn near perfect, she gets really insecure about things, especially when it comes to her looks and stupid dicks.” Y/N had started looking up at his words, spotting Harry closer to her but not sharing any of her own emotions. He was taking the piss, wasn‘t he? “Locks herself away in her room until she feels ready to leave the flat. She’s selfless, gives me other girls’ numbers even though she’s in love with me— even makes me go on dates even though I’m sure it hurts her feelings whenever I do.”

“You love me?” she sniffled, “I’m not joking about this.”

“I love you, Y/N. I do. S’why I got so mad last week, wanted you to realize that I’m more than some shallow asshole. Didn’t know you felt the same, though.”

“How could you not? I literally get so weird around you these days.”

“Thought it was just stress or something,” he cupped her cheek, thumbing away some tears, “I’m sorry you cried about me, should’ve just said it like a normal person. Just didn’t want to ruin us.”

“Me neither.”

“I’m going to kiss you, okay?”

This kiss was a thousand times better than the last one. Y/N felt giddy as his lips ghosted over hers, as he pulled her up from her seat and sat back down to have her climb over his lap. She breathed into his mouth, ground against his crotch like she was a horny 16 year old girl being touched for the first time. There was no heavy feeling weighing down on her chest, she could just be free of concerns.

After a few minutes of making out, Y/N laughed. She damn near cackled into his mouth and when he questioned her with a confused stare and a cute laugh of his own, she shook her head.

“Remind me to thank Kacy later.”

—

disclaimer: this is NOT meant to offend anyone based on their looks— it‘s just a depiction of a girl feeling insecure because she thinks the guy she loves doesn’t see her the way she wants him to. The description i used of his ‘type’ and the inevitable perception of what Y/N looks like in this story was completely random and is completely up to you. I hope it doesn’t come across as anything other than that!

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles

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sweetinsaniiity · 4 months ago

Text

My Life For Hire

► 𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 - frat boy!san x college!Y/N ◄ ► 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜/𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 - switched bodies!, plot with smut, cursing, betrayal, enemies-to-lovers, semi-funny, San is an !ass, but so are you, bickering while having sex, love-making, sweet sex (no rough fucking this time, ya nasty people), blowjob, name-saying kink, permission-asking, creampie, no protection (do NOT do this!)◄ ► 𝚃𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 - MDNI, mentions of extreme violence, childhood abuse, body disfigurement (via burn marks), fighting scene ◄ ► 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 - 18.1K (+ bonus scene!) ◄ ► 𝚂𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 - Choi San was a man you harbor great loathing for. He betrayed you out of nowhere, and it cost you your whole life. You were ready to hate him for the rest of your life, until both of you were forced to work together after switching bodies, and then San claims he never betrayed you. How long will you pretend to be each other until you two get caught? ◄ ► 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜 - Hello again <3 I wanted to publish this sooner but I wasn't feeling well so I had to take a bit of a break. This is definitely not my best work since this genre isn't my strongest suit. This is a work of fiction and is not meant to represent Ateez in real life. Join the taglist here. Title from A Day To Remember ◄

"So is anyone attending that party at the frat boys' dorms?"

I took a deep breath through my nose, hoping that the gesture would calm me down and not let my frustrations get the best of me.

Hyolyn, a close friend of mine, latches on my arm. "Our Y/N works a little too hard," she pouted. "You should come with us."

"You know I can't," I sighed. "It's not that I don't want to either, my finals are around the corner and I can't slack off."

Of course I wanted to go, just like the other normal people my age, and in college, no less. I wasn't the studious type nor was I someone who cared too much if my grades tanked, but I do want to graduate at least.

The cafeteria wasn't the ideal place for me to glance at my notes every now and then, but hey, the sooner I finish this, the sooner my life gets a bit easier and smooth sailing after.

"Ugh, can't they keep it down?" another friend of mine, Seolhyun, grumbled. She was the pretty but nerdy type, it made her charming. "I'm trying to study here, Professor Byun will literally fail me..."

I took an apprehensive glance at the far corner of the college cafeteria, and I couldn't help but be annoyed as well, and soon it became even rowdier when this particular group strolls in and creates more noise pollution.

"You fuckers be ready for the party tonight!"

"Beer pong anyone?"

"Everyone better attend and be ready to fuck things up!”

They were Ateez, a bunch of immature frat boys that took pride in annoying the living daylights out of everybody they encountered. They were loud, boisterous, and rambunctious.

I tried to get back at my sad excuse of a lunch - by that, I meant soggy veggies, gamey meat, cold soup, go figure - and my boring class notes, but the hairs at the back of my neck stood up. That's how I knew someone was watching me.

And I was right, someone was, or rather, someone was murdering me with their eyes.

Choi San.

He was seated at the far corner of the cafeteria along with the rest of cronies, leaned back a little comfortably on his chair with his arms crossed, and glaring at me with such intensity, and not participating at the rowdiness of Ateez.

"What the hell are you looking at?" I stared angrily.

He seemed to get the message. He shrugged his shoulders and glared harder. "What are you looking at?" he scowled.

I scoffed, the grimace clear on my face. "Can you guys keep it the hell down?" I mouthed at him wryly.

I gripped my pen so tight in my hand I'm surprised it didn't snap off. Oh, how I wanted to rip that menacing smirk off of his face. "What are you going to do about it?"

I stared at the way he licked his bottom lip then poked his cheek with the same tongue. He narrowed his eyes at me, waiting for the comeback that I always delivered to him, but not today, Satan. He looked at me with so much contempt, I was forced to look away.

"Guys, I have to go," I packed my stuff hurriedly in my satchel with a tight smile. I heard my friends complain under their breaths, I can't tell them but that the reason is that, mainly, I was avoiding San.

He was still staring at me with that nasty smirk he's always had. I had to resist the urge to march over to him and gouge his eyes out with a spoon.

Staring became our only form of communication for a couple of years now. It was a contest between us, and winning came with a reward - the satisfaction of seeing one of us falter.

San tilted his head curiously as he watched me pack my things. His eyes were unblinking, they were harsh enough to see directly right through me. Perhaps it was the way he looked at me that gave his intentions away.

I wasn't going to give in to him. I sneered at him, unwavering as I slowly walked towards the cafeteria's exit.

I grimaced when I realized I had to pass him in order to do so. Curse him, I thought bitterly. I'm fine, I just have to ignore him---

"Oh, oh, oh no," I panicked when I accidentally tripped on something and began falling straight to the ground face down.

This was it, the end of my social life, and the end of my reputation.

"Careful. You don’t want to fall on your face, do you?"

This was my nightmare personified - tripping and falling directly in San's arms. I sighed deeply, forcing myself to look at him as he held my waist a little too tight for my liking.

"Unhand me, you swine," I hissed, grabbing onto his arm and pushing it away.

San clicked his tongue mockingly. "I help and this is what I get in return? You wound me." He leaned close to my ear and whispered something soft enough for only the both of us to hear. "I get it. You've always acted like you have a stick up your ass."

I scoffed blaringly loud enough to catch pretty much everybody's attention. It was embarrassing, but my anger towards San prevailed.

"I'm sorry, were you dropped on your head as an infant?" I snapped. "Or were you just born stupid?"

Ohhs and a couple of laughs were heard across the cafeteria. His friends stared at us in amusement. San had a devilish grin on his face, but I knew him. The way his eyes glinted with something dangerous - he was angry.

"This isn't over," he growled lowly.

With that, I turned away from and left not only the cafeteria, but the university in general to head back to my dormitory. San always bought out the demon in me, and I was exhausted.

In the end, I decided to go to that party, even though one of his frat buddies, either Wooyoung or Mingi, hosted it. Needless to say, Hyolyn and Seolhyun were over the moon. I decided to get ready the moment the sun went down.

"You fool," I muttered, staring at the picture frame I always had on my table. I paused from getting ready and stared at it for a while.

It was San and me, grinning widely at the camera without a care around us. One glance and it was like we were in high school again, before all the dumb decisions and before we both drifted apart.

It's been four years since then and I will never get over the loss.

The party was unfortunately a blast. As much as I disliked San and his cronies, they sure knew how to throw a good one. The mingling bodies made it a little difficult for me to move around.

"Having fun?!" a boy in my class, Haechan, raised his voice so I could hear him from the loud music.

"Sort of!" I laughed loudly.

I was loosening up, maybe it was the alcohol, but nonetheless I moved my body to the rhythm of the songs that played in the background, chugging my beer from time to time. It was honestly fun, I haven't really gone much because I really did try to concentrate on my studies.

Suddenly, someone hastily grabbed my beer cup and sloshed it on the floor. "Hey!" I shouted.

I was being dragged roughly across the room, through the sea of drunk people and vomit, outside the house the party was. I groaned when I was harshly shoved against the wall.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

I laughed contemptuously at San's pissed off face. "What?" I scorned. "I can't attend parties anytime I want now?"

San looked royally pissed. He had always been the intimidating bastard, and he'd always hated the disrespect I gave him.

"You?" San sneered. "You hate parties. Did you come here to embarrass me further? Haven't you had enough?"

My heart suddenly hurt as I stared at San's disdain, and I mourned the loss of my best friend all over again. We were everything to each other, until we just weren't.

San's eyes softened, and they mirrored the same loss I mourned for. It was always like this.

My eyes flashed with anger, I glared at him and showed him how mad I was. "Get off your high horse, Choi San. I'm not the same person I was years ago."

Something cold crossed over his face; touched the corners of his eyes and glossed over them like sharp winter frost. He let out a snort, but chose not to reply. He behaved like always until it made me crack.

I was angry and frustrated that he ruined my mood, and I was getting back at him for this. “Your group of bastards irritate me, you know?"

San laughed and shook his head. “Bastards like us are born out of passion, aren’t we? We are everywhere,” he jeered.

I smirked. He always hated it when I talked shit about Ateez. “I can’t say I particularly hate your little group—“

“No? How tolerant of you.”

“—-just you, San.”

San stares at me. “You hate me that much, Y/N?"

No, I thought, I hate them from stealing you away from me and you for going along with them.

“Yes.”

His brows shot up with the revelation and I stared at him with my heart racing. I haven't been this close to him in years. I scrutinized him - he was the most handsome in my eyes, but now more so that he'd matured. One thing that never changed was he always dyed a section of his hair blonde.

I hated that piece of hair. It always garnered him the attention he never deserved.

A searing smile curled at his lips and he chuckled in amusement. "I suppose the feeling is mutual," he smirked. "You feel tough because of your boy toy, what's his name? Jaemin?"

"That's none of your business," I gritted my teeth. I was pissed, Jaemin has been nothing but good to me.

He sneered at my annoyed stance. "Are you fucking him?"

"No!" I denied faster than I'd like. I rapidly shook my head at his accusation. Embarrassed, I tried to avert my eyes from him.

San chuckled lowly. "Go home," he said, but it sounded like a threat.

"Careful now," I chuckled without humour. "People are going to think we like each other if you keep cornering me like this."

Sans arched a brow at my defiance. He clenched his jaw, the irritation slowly getting to him. "Why?" he sneered. His fingers mockingly brushed against my arm. "You like playing hard to get?"

"Ugh! You are insufferable!"

"And you are a feisty little bitch," he snapped.

"Are you fucking serious?" I cursed, moving slightly to try and get away from his presence. "You're the absolute worst, I swear to God."

"I wish I gave a fuck," he sighed with a mocking laugh.

I was about to retort something dumb, something so stupid he'll have no choice but to let me go, when the loud cracking of the thunder interrupted us. It amplified the rain that accompanied me and San's childish argument.

Taking the chance, I pushed him off and tried to storm off in the rain to my car. I wasn't in the mood to party anymore. "Let me go," I said firmly when San stopped me by holding onto my arm.

"Don't be a kid," he rolled his eyes. "As much as I'd like to see you drenched and suffering, wait the rain out for a little, then you can fuck off."

I angrily shook my arms off of his grip. "Talk to the wall," I hissed.

"I'm serious, it's slippery out there," he nagged, following me when I began to walk off, but hesitating when the rain hit him. "Come on now, Y/N."

I flipped him off. I noticed his eyes grow dark, I recoiled a bit, but chose to go on. The rain was strong, but I managed to walk off, and then the inevitable slipping that San had warned me about came in time when I accidentally stepped on mushy grass.

I screamed, flailing my arms stupidly like it would break the fall, and break it did. Except that the real reason was because a pair of arms had broken my fall.

I stared at San's wet form holding me. "Are you okay--" he began speaking, but he too, had fallen victim to the slippery slope we were in.

I cursed as we both tumbled along and San let out this guttural groan when I fell directly on top of him. I didn't register it at first, but I felt something very soft land on my face...

"Mmph!" I whimpered. To be specific, something on my lips.

San and I looked at each other wide eyed, not moving as we were too shocked to do so when we realized that our lips had met.

Then came that dizzying sensation I had never, ever felt before in my entire life when San pulled away in daze. Before I could even register the fact that San and I basically kissed, albeit by accident, I started to lose consciousness.

"You're so disgusting you literally make me sick with a single kiss,"San slurred, his eyes slowly fluttering close like mine as he held onto me tightly.

I buried myself in San's arms, scared and confused to what was suddenly to the both of us. Did someone spike the drinks?

"Likewise," was the last thing I blurted out before both him and I slumped on the ground as the world started disappearing from both of us and fainting.

There was nothing, for a moment, at least.

And then it came, in the darkness, that wonderful dream I loved dreaming about. I dreamt about it so much that I subconsciously knew I was dreaming.

The vibrant, hectic space was bursting into life. To my right, the espresso machine sputtered slowly, its sounds resonating through the air, every now and then pausing to gasp some air whilst liquid gold flowed down to be served into a cup.

"A cappuccino for you, my lady," San teased as he gave me my cup and then sat opposite to me. "And a latte for me."

It was a beautiful summer bloom, with the busy college applications looming over us. I'm surprised that San and I even had time to hang out.

"Are you really coming with me?" I frowned. "You don't have to, Sannie. I can always visit you overseas, you know that."

San clicked his tongue. "That won't be necessary," he smiled, that cute dimple he had popping out from his cheeks. "I already rejected the offer, we'll be in the same college."

Guilt crept its way into my heart at San's excited stance, and of course, he takes notice. He grabs my hand and massages it gently.

"I'm serious, Y/N, it's okay. I'd rather be with you than be alone somewhere else," he said. "I...don't think I can live without you there."

I bit my lip apprehensively. "I don't want you to give up your dreams because of me," I whispered.

He shook his head. "I'm not," he assured. "What's the point of achieving them if I'm without you?"

"What am I going to do with you, Sannie?" I giggled.

I'd loved him the most when he did the thing - dancing - he was most absolutely passionate about. It was when his eyes twinkle despite the absence of emotion on his face. They were alive in the lights, burning with the motivation to succeed as if he has been through so much and more.

And when he glances at me the same way, it was when I felt loved the most.

I woke up in a cold sweat, my breathing laboured and intensive. Fresh tears started to well up in the corners of my eyes at that dream, for it was the last time I would ever call San my best friend.

Or rather, the love of my life.

I laughed bitterly to myself. That ship sailed a long, long time ago. At this point, I was in love with the memory of how he used to be - the sweetest, kindest man. Now he's just a cocky douchebag.

I sat up on the bed, and it was when I realized that I was in an unfamiliar room. I looked around, my heart beating a little too fast for my liking, and my head pounding really, really bad.

Odd, I thought. I'm not a lightweight, this can't be a hangover.

I panicked when I heard the bedroom door jiggle and a voice rang from the outside. "San, are you awake?"

I screamed bloody murder when the door opened and tried to cover myself up. I cannot be seen dead or alive within a ten mile radius with San. "Ahh!"

"Ahhh!" the other person screamed as well.

"Ahhh!" I screamed back.

"Ahh! Why the fuck are you screaming, San?! God, my ears are busted..."

San? I gritted my teeth in annoyance under the blankets. Why wasn't he saying anything? I swear if I get my hands on him I will wring his neck.

"San? Are you okay?"

I paled when I felt the blanket suddenly pried from me. All the excuses and scenarios in my mind on how to excuse myself and maybe bribe this man into not telling anyone I was in San's bedroom.

But nothing. The person that took the blanket away from me was none other than Jung Wooyoung, San's closest friend. The familiarity in his eyes when he looked at me was creeping me out a bit. Or maybe he was just used to San having women over. The thought left a bitter taste in my mouth.

"Get up, man. It's almost 10, I saved you some food earlier," Wooyoung spoke, looking at me expectantly. When I didn't reply, he frowned and touched my forehead. "You okay? You look sick."

I recoiled from his touch, and his frown turned deeper. "A-Are you talking to me?" I asked, squeaking pathetically when I realized that my voice wasn't my voice.

It was deep, rich, and it sounded a whole like San's.

Wooyoung cackled loudly. "Are you still drunk?" he jokingly hits my shoulders. "Unless there's another San in the room, then yeah, I'm talking to you."

An oncoming panic attack makes my heart beat erratically, the fear automatically bombarding my brain. The intense worry was overriding the rational part of my brain, not that there was anything rational about this.

I slapped myself hard, hoping to wake from this nightmare that I was in, but nothing. Wooyoung stares at me like I grew two heads. "Yeah, you're definitely still drunk," he mumbled.

When Wooyoung left the room, I got out of the bed so quickly that the blood rushed to my head fast and rendered me dizzy, but I didn't care. I ran to the big mirror at the corner of the room and stared at myself - or San.

"No, there is no goddamn way, this cannot be real," I muttered to myself, the mania and craze scattering my thoughts and making it impossible for me to think. "Oh my God, what the hell did I do wrong to deserve this?!"

Broad frame, toned arms and chest, almond-shaped eyes, white-stripped bangs, this was San. I brought my hand to touch my face, it was smooth, something I knew my skin wasn't. When I waved my hand dumbly in front of the mirror, I yelped when San's reflection looked back at me and did the exact same thing.

But wait, if I now San, where is the real San?

"I'll be right back!" I screamed at nobody in particular, trying very hard to appear normal when I rushed downstairs, tripping on a few steps, with a newfound vigor. The blush on my cheeks were still evident when I changed into San's clothes with my eyes closed.

It was hard because I would sweat when I'd accidentally touch what technically was his skin, but I can't just panic and mope around doing nothing. I have to find my own body.

"Ya! Don't slam the damn door!" I heard someone scream when I hurriedly ran out of the Alpha Tau Zeta frat house. It was probably Park Seonghwa. Rumour has it that he was a neat and clean freak.

I stumbled like a fool as I speed walked my way towards my own dorm house where hopefully San with my body was in. I cursed under my breath when I tripped again, barely catching myself. Curse San and how big he is!

How did this happen though? Was magic a real thing in this life all along? It didn't make sense, what kind of sick God was playing with our fates like this?

With no time to lose, I opted to jog and I was pleasantly surprised when I realized how easy it was to jog right now. But it wasn't me, San's body was the one with the insane stamina and strength to do so.

When I reached my dorm all the way to the end of the campus, I wasn't even panting or sweating. As I tried to make my way inside, the friendly security guard stopped me from walking further. It was something I appreciated living here, the safe security, but now I'm a little annoyed about it.

"Your name and who are you visiting?" the guard asked.

I cleared my throat apprehensively. "Y/N, ah, m-my name is Choi San and I'm visiting L/N Y/N."

It unnerved me to hear myself - San - talk and it was even more unnerving not to say my own name and use San's right now.

"Nope," the guard shook his head. "Miss Y/N did not put your name as a legal visitor for her."

It took a lot in me not to snort loudly in contempt. Of course I would never put San's name down. I never wanted to see his face near me ever again when I started living here.

I was about to appeal and try to sneak away, when I saw a familiar form by the doorway. My eyes widened when I saw myself seething and shaking with anger. Is that what I look like when I glare at San? I suppose no wonder he hates me.

"You," I hissed. I cringed when San stared back at me, maybe my face and body, but those eyes belong to San. It's definitely him in my body.

I marched over to him, ignoring the protests of the guard and dragged him into my room in a hurry, not caring if we both looked weird.

"Can you not treat me like a ragdoll? You're hurting me!" San barked, but not doing anything but following. It was weird hearing my own voice talk to me like this.

"Ah," I uttered sarcastically. "Now you know what I feel like when I tell you."

San glares at me and I had this urge to just submit, but I carry on. "Don't be a pussy, San."

It was true. San had a habit of grabbing onto my arm when he wanted something, especially now that his only goal in life was to drive me to my grave.

While me and San - or more like, San and me - were having the death march towards my room, the uncomfortable stares of the people we passed were undeniable. Everybody knew San and I hated each other, it wasn't necessarily a secret, so seeing us together was such a treat.

I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes. Sometimes I forget how shallow people can get. Is this the fame that San got everyday? Every stare was a mixture of confusion, awe, and lust.

"You can't just go out like this!" I screamed at a confused San when I closed the door behind me.

"Like what?" he asked. God, it felt weird to hear myself like that.

"That!" I incredulously said, hastily pointing at the nightgown San currently had on me. "You're basically naked, I'm basically naked!"

San rolled his eyes, plopping on my bed with a heaviness that annoyed me. "I tried putting on a bra," he mumbled, his ears red with embarrassment. "Don't look at me like that, I swear I did! How the hell do you women live with that thing? I couldn't breathe!"

I stared at him wide-eyed, a sudden thought infiltrating my mind and making me extremely nervous. "Did you, uhm," I stammered ridiculously. San lifted a brow to stare at me. "Did you look?"

He was confused at first, but when the realization dawned on him, his face reddened too. "No!" San boomed, clearly flustered at the accusation. I deadpanned at him. It was so fascinating.

"Contrary to your popular belief, I'm not like that," he scoffed, staring straight into me. "And you know it. I could say the same to you, though."

It was my turn to scoff at his ludicrousness. "Please," I sneered. "The little worm between your legs isn't even worth snooping at."

San crossed his arms with a dirty smirk on his face. "I suppose that's how I know you didn't look."

"Wha--oh," I faltered when I realized what he was talking about. He cackled when I threw a pillow at him. "You're disgusting," I spat.

Everything dawns on me all once now that we've talked a little and are in the comfort of my own room. Thank the Gods I insisted on having my own back then, or this would've been more of a nightmare than it already was.

We didn't say a word to each for a moment, lost in the discernment that we had actually really been switched - that this wasn't a joke and something had happened between us that we had no idea about.

I swallowed the lump that began to form in my throat. What if this was permanent? This could potentially destroy my life, and as much as I am upset with San, I don't wish to ruin his life, either.

I gasped softly when I felt my hand being massaged softly. "Calm down," San murmured. "We'll figure it out."

What was supposed to be relaxing, turned out to be nauseating for me. It's been so long and he still remembers what calms me down.

"This place is surprisingly nice," he said, looking around my room. "Who's paying the rent?"

"I am," I shrugged.

His grip on my hand tightens ever so slightly. "Your mom doesn't?" San asked in contempt.

I looked at him through his narrowed eyes. I can tell that there was no malicious intent behind the question, rather, he was sad. My chest pangs, it had that angst we both had when we were younger.

"As if," I scoffed weakly. "You know how it is, San..."

His eyes switched gears from contempt to cold anger that wasn't necessarily directed towards me. "Mark my words," he snarled. "One day, I will scrap that stepfather of yours, I swear to God, I'm going to--"

"You will do no such thing," I hissed angrily. "And how? Look at us, we're not in our real bodies right now! I don't know if it isn't obvious enough, but I'm not exactly the strongest bunch out there."

"That's not true," San dismisses.

"You don't get it do you? I'm so frustrated and I want to pound my hands on the floor like a toddler!"

"I get it, Y/N--"

"And it had to be you of all people! God, it's so easy to be cruel with you right now but I'm not like you---"

"Can you just shut your trap for once and let me think of what's happening?" San snapped, letting my hand go roughly.

In my panic, a stupid idea pops in my head. "It was the kiss wasn't it?" I blurted out. I grabbed his (my) shoulders frantically. "We can just kiss again and it will undo itself!"

His eyes widened comically when I leaned down and crashed my lips against his. When nothing happens, I kiss him over and over again, until he pushes me off of him.

"What the hell are you doing?!" San squeaked. It dawned on me what I had just done and I blush hard. The only time I got to kiss San was when I did it myself from his body. What a sad way to live.

"You act like I wanted to do that," I fretted, trying to change the topic. My brain exploded when I saw him lick his lips slowly and his throat bob up when he swallowed. "That's your brain thinking for you, really? N-Not that you ever used it," I stammered.

"It's called being rational," he sighed. "Something you're not."

"Wow, look who's talking," I scoffed. "Spoken like a true asshole, you don't even know what's going on."

"You really are a cunt, aren't you?" San insulted. "Can you just please listen to me for once?"

"Last time I did that, I was abandoned."

San paused, a flash of regret flashing through his eyes. He knew that I saw, but he made no effort to hide it, so he does what he does best - deflect blame.

"Ah, yes. You say that as if you were the first one to feel it, Y/N. What other insights have you bought me today?"

"I wonder if you're the worst person I've ever met. I hardly recall, but horrid people really do stand out, do they?" I rolled my eyes.

San sighed deeply, clearly frustrated. "Look," he began rubbing my temples. "We're going nowhere here, how about we research for now?"

He pointed at my bed where my laptop was. "We can use that for now. Do you have class today?"

This was how it was between him and I. We'd be fighting like cats and dogs then we'd work together temporarily to solve a problem. "No," I shook my head as I sat on my bed to grab the laptop. "I'm off for four days. Professor Lee is sick."

"Okay, good. We have the same professor," he sat beside me. My heart lurched when I felt the bed dip with the weight. "You want to use that or list information?"

"Paper," I mumbled, handing him the device. "You've always been better at technology."

It was the truth. He hummed in response, typing up stuff I barely even knew to begin with. "What was the last thing you remember last night?"

That was a good question. "I-I don't remember," I trailed off. "How did we both get home?"

"I was awake enough but not for long. I don't remember who took me, but I know Mingi took you home with what's her name, Saeyeon?"

"Seolhyun," I corrected. I felt my throat constricting with the newfound information.

What San really meant was, 'I fought to be awake until I saw you safe.’

"I'm surprised your bunch didn't leave me stranded out there," I scoffed.

To my surprise, San smiled lightly. "They're not what you think," he said. It left a bad taste in my mouth, but I suppose I respected the love he held for them.

And then we were silent. We brainstormed and tried to research every little thing about our case. It was genuinely frustrating and disheartening, most of the things we found ranged from the supernatural to just pure fallacy.

Our case was purely unique. That or nobody who has experienced it documented it for the world to see. I don't blame them, I wouldn't believe anyone unless I was certain it was fiction.

"What's up?" I asked San, who kept staring at me while I wrote every detail he told me to. Maybe all the anxiety and nervousness I held was because of the way his eyes held me a prisoner.

"Nothing," he shrugged. "It's just that we haven't been in the same room for a long, long time."

I held his stare with a curious look in my eyes. He was right, I hadn't even thought of that. "What exactly are you thinking?"

"That I'm glad it was you," he answered with raw honesty. "This situation isn't ideal for the both of us, but I'm less terrified because it's you."

A puzzle piece of my heart once fell down, because it knew it never belonged there anymore. San left, he didn't belong with me anymore. It struck a nerve, what he just said, because I felt the exact same way - it was either him or nothing.

I nodded, holding my breath because if I didn't, I would say something I will regret. "Did you find anything?"

The small smile on his lips faded, but he nodded despite his feelings. It broke my heart to downgrade my expectations of him. "No," he cleared his throat. "Move in the frat house for the time being with me."

I raised a brow at his suggestion, but on the inside, my heart wanted to leap out my chest and onto San's hand. "Why?"

"I can't stay here, your roommates will notice," he explained. "And you can't stay alone in the frat house. They might look and act like idiots, but they're the furthest from it. They will know."

As much as I hated to admit it, San was right. "Where am I going to stay though?" I frowned.

"In my room. You sleep on the bed, I'll take the floor. We have extra futons," he shrugged nonchalantly.

I agreed immediately. I packed whatever essentials I need and some clothes enough to last me a while, because something is telling me that we're going to be like this for a while.

I left a note for Hyolyn and Seolhyun, saying that I'm going to stay with a friend for now because they're in trouble. Hopefully they don't sense that it's San.

"Don't get any ideas though," I mumbled when we both reached the front door of his frat house. "We're not friends."

He smirked as he rang the doorbell. "Wow. What's got you questioning our friendship?"

"I'm not questioning our friendship, San. I'm denying its existence."

San was about to retort something stupid, when the door suddenly opened. I had to stop myself from drooling at the sight in front of us. It was Kang Yeosang.

"Sannie?" a shirtless Yeosang appeared from the doorway. I knew he was handsome, but goddamn. "Why are you ringing the doorbell?"

I felt a sharp jab to my side, it was San elbowing me. "Uh, h-hi, can I s-stay here with him--her!" I stammered pathetically.

Yeosang stared at me like I was crazy. "You live here, San."

Fuck.

Before I could incriminate myself further, San grabbed my arm and began pushing past an even more confused Yeosang. I heard him - me - curse under his breath when we reached the living room.

Everyone was in there, I mean literally every single one of them, Ateez, were just lounging. They all turned to us with a mixture of shock and bewilderment. I get it, though. Me and San being together in one room without fighting was a miracle in itself.

"Don't ask!" San shouted as he dragged me into his room. It must have been because all they see is a tiny woman dragging a bigger man.

When he closed the door behind us, he laid it all out on me. "Seriously, Y/N?" he hissed. "Yeosang got you panting like a bitch in heat?"

"What can I say?" I taunted him. "I appreciate a hunk when I see one."

"You're lucky it wasn't Jongho," he seethed as he arranged the extra futon he was referring to on the floor. "Jongho would've literally chewed you out on the spot for acting weird."

I didn't bother replying. How was I supposed to tell him that he has been the only guy I've seen shirtless before?

We decided that tomorrow is another day, hopefully back in our respective bodies, and we can discuss tomorrow about our next move. For now, we will sleep.

It was comfortable, at least for me, I was in San's bed wrapped up in his scent. I shamelessly inhaled his pillow deeply, God, I've always loved his scent even before and especially now. I sighed, not being able to sleep despite being comfortable. He's matured now, both in looks and the way he acts.

After an hour or so of just thinking, sleep crept up to me, until it didn't.

"Y/N?"

My mind didn't register what I was hearing until San repeated my name over and over again. I got up and saw him already sitting down on the bed. "San? What's up?" I asked groggily.

"Can you help me? I-I'm scared," he stuttered, shaking his leg a bit. I guess some things don't change, San always does that when nervous.

I turned the lampshade he had on so I could take a better look at him. He was pale and genuinely scared. My heart started to hammer against my chest and I grabbed his hand out of reflex.

"Sannie?" I gently asked. "Tell me what's wrong."

"I-I think I'm dying," he professed. "M-My stomach h-hurts bad..."

Well, that woke me up completely. "Come again?" I blinked repeatedly at him.

With shaking hands, he pointed at the floor and at first I didn't see it, but when my eyes focused, I saw what appeared to be droplets of blood.

"Sannie," I called out. "Stand up for me, I need to look at something."

He did as asked and I sighed. As expected, the crotch area of his pajamas had blood on them. For the first time in a while, I felt bad for him.

"I'm sorry," I apologized genuinely. "I didn't know I'd be having my period so soon."

San's face drops in realization and relief when he hears that it was only technically 'his' period and he wasn't bleeding randomly to death. "Seriously, though?" I teased. "You had a sister and a mother, how could you not know?"

"You had me and male friends but you technically didn't know how it felt peeing from a dick," he snapped.

"Touché," I chortled. I stood up from the bed and put a soiled shirt of mine on the bed and guided him to lay down on it. "I'm gonna go back to my dorm to get some pads for you," I mumbled.

"No need," he groaned. "Ask the first person you see downstairs. We have them on stash somewhere for people who visit."

I raised a brow at that. "You got so many bitches come over, you have feminine products on standby?"

San narrowed his eyes on me. "I told you," he gritted his teeth. "We're not like that. Hurry up, please. I think I'm going to throw up."

I laughed on the way out of his room. I want to leave him to suffer honestly, but unfortunately, I'm not like that. It was satisfying enough for a man to experience how difficult periods are for women.

I went back to the living room since it was the only place I knew for now, and I wasn't surprised to see it empty except for one man - Jeong Yunho.

The senior law student sensed my presence and turned to look at me in surprise. "You're still awake?" he asked with a smile.

"I could say the same to you," I laughed nervously, hoping to appear normal by joking around. As far as he knows, I'm San. "D-Do you know where the pads are?"

I was expecting him to be disgusted and make a nasty joke about it, after all, most men are, but no. He nodded with a hum. To be fair, Yunho was well known on campus to be a gentleman, but still.

"We're out of them," he sighed. My heart dropped low in my stomach when he said it, but then he continued. "I'll see if I have some in my room. Come with me."

"In your room?" I asked flabbergasted as I followed him.

"Yeah. Yeni usually leaves hers here in case of an accident," he mumbled, rummaging through his unsurprisingly organized room. "I'm assuming Y/N had hers?"

I nodded slowly. Yunho acknowledged me with another hum. "You can ask Seonghwa for the stain remover. Check the balcony."

My mouth dropped in surprise. Yunho is talking about periods like it's the most normal thing in the world! While it is, frat boys are the last people on Earth to be totally fine with it!

"Here," Yunho handed me a couple of pads. "Goodluck, man."

When Yunho left, I was still frozen on the spot. On campus, Ateez were the typical party boys that ruled and were worshiped by everyone. There were many who disliked them, including me, but have I misunderstood them?

We'll see. Maybe it's only Yunho. I traversed through the whole house, careful not to be too loud since it was past midnight, and the balcony wasn't actually too difficult to find. I blushed when I saw a serious looking Seonghwa only wearing a tank top while he was buried in a mountain of books.

"Yunho?" I heard him ask without looking in my direction.

I was extremely nervous at this point. What if I say something and he'll catch on and figure out that I'm not San?

"N-No, it's me," I whispered. God, pretending to be San was a lot harder than it seemed.

He pauses from reading and looks up at me. I gulped when his sharp eyes hit me. From a distance, even on campus, Park Seonghwa had always looked intimidating to me, and right now, I wanted to bury myself in the ground with his scrutiny.

"San," he drawled with a small smirk. He glances at the pads on my hand. "You need the stain remover."

I nodded, not daring to say a word. It was unsettling, the way he looked at me as if he could see right through me. "Well?" Seonghwa asked in a tense voice.

"W-What?" I stammered.

"You bring the girl that hates your guts without me and Hongjoong's permission, you don't have anything to say about that?"

I bit my lip apprehensively. I'm going to strangle San the minute I get the hell out of here. "I-I'm sorry," was all I could say.

He sighed deeply. "I'm sure you have your reasons," he mused. "I don't mind her, I quite admire her spirit. She doesn't conform to the status quo and doesn't worship us mindlessly for no reason."

I didn't know if I should be even more terrified now or flustered with the compliment. "However," he continued. "Hongjoong is different. He's a little upset you're not standing up for yourself when she badmouths you. You're lucky he's at his internship abroad."

"It's not like you don't know I hate her as well," I blurted out before I could stop myself, but it was too late. I won't be scrutinized here when San hates me more.

"You do?" Seonghwa was puzzled. "But I thought," he sighed. "Whatever, you'll figure it out. Run along, stain remover is in your bathroom. I cleaned it earlier. I'll buy some ice cream for her. Did you get the warm compress?"

I was flabbergasted. "What?"

Seonghwa rolled his eyes. "For her cramps, you half wit. No wonder she hates you."

I thought nothing could shock me anymore than Yunho's kind attitude, but Seonghwa cleaning the bathroom? And he's pretty nonchalant about periods too! How in the world are they so normal about this? Of course I knew what warm compresses are!

And these are exactly what I told San when I came back to the room. Telling him that they ran out of pads was embarrassing, and apparently the pads I got were for when Yunho's cousin comes over, and the interaction with Seonghwa.

"Are you scared of Hongjoong?" San asked. He looked too amused for my liking.

"I'm more scared of Seonghwa, to be honest," I shrugged. "Put this blindfold on, I'm going to undress you."

San blinked at me, but did so anyway. It felt damn weird technically dressing myself. We got into the shower and San surprisingly wasn't making lewd comments, but I can see the blush rising up on his cheeks. It was my body, so I knew how it functioned.

"Seonghwa looks intimidating because of the way he carries himself," San said as I took my pajamas off of him. "I remember being more terrified of Hongjoong when I first met him. His tongue is sharp---can you be careful? It's ticklish."

"You know I'm ticklish," I mumbled. "Sharp how?"

"In a sense that he doesn't have to stick a knife in your chest to kill you," he chuckled. "How long do I have to wear these?"

"I'll let you know if we have to change it," I replied with my own blush. It felt so damn weird changing San, but technically it was my body I'm putting clothes on. But still, maybe I should just let San see my body?

I shook my head apprehensively, my face getting redder and redder because of how ludicrous my own thoughts were. No way I'd let him see even if it was hard.

"This feels so fucking weird," he whined as he kept adjusting himself. "It feels like I'm wearing a diaper!"

For the first time since we had switched bodies, I couldn't help but laugh out loud at his claim. San looks at me weirdly before laughing out loud as well. My heart didn't hurt this time, rather, I felt it healing.

"Usually, I'm a tampon person," I wiped an imaginary tear from my eyes. "But I don't think you will appreciate something inside you."

San's cheeks look like tomatoes at this point. "Yeah, you're right," he mumbled. "Thanks for the compress, it feels better."

I glanced at him shifting uncomfortably on the floor, tossing and turning to find the perfect sleeping position, but to no avail.

I sighed. "San," I called out. He took a peek at me. "Sleep here for now," I said, patting the side of the bed softly. His eyes widen into saucers. "Please."

He stayed unmoving, contemplating whether I was being serious or not. I don't blame him, this is the gentlest we've both been to each other since four years ago. When I scooted to make some space, he had resolved and decided to lay down next to me.

"Thanks," he groaned in pain after. "So this is what you guys go through every month?"

"Mhhm," I mumbled. "I'll help you."

"Why?" he smirked. "We're not friends, right?"

I pretended to be asleep so I could avoid him. I hope he can't hear how loud my heart is beating right now. He gave up and fell asleep himself. I can feel his body heat next to me, searing hotly. We used to sleep in one bed when we were younger, so what makes this one any different? I had no idea.

Soon enough, I didn't have to pretend to sleep. Then, I had another dream...

I winced in pain when San dabbed an alcohol-soaked cotton ball on my lips. "Please, Sannie, it really hurts," I cried.

"Shh, just bear with it okay? I don't want it to get infected," he hushed, his brows furrowed in concentration mixed with a little bit of displeasure.

"A-Are you mad?" I squeaked.

"No. Stay still."

"But you look mad."

He sighed, his hand caressing my cheek. I lean into it, hissing in pain once more. I forgot I had a bruise there as well. He cursed under his breath.

"I'm not mad," he confessed, his fingers lightly tracing the bruises, both old and new, across my face and neck. "At least not at you."

I gasped lightly when planting a small kiss at my forehead, his lips lingering on my skin longer than it should. "I'm so sorry, Sannie."

"Stop," he warned. "I never want to hear that from you." He plants another kiss on my bruised cheek. Suddenly, the pain wasn't there anymore. "I'm going to kill them, Y/N, I swear I'm going to," he growled.

I held his hand and gripped on it. Tears started falling from my cheeks and his eyes softened. "I-I'm fine, please don't," I begged. "He's just stressed, that's all--"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, enough of that bullshit!" San roared loudly, slamming his hands on the table. I whimpered loudly at the sound. "He's supposed to be your father, Y/N, and look at what he's doing to you!"

"I know, San, please," I wept.

"You have to report this, Y/N, I don't want to see you in a morgue one day," he pleaded. "If your mom had still been alive..."

His voice cracked towards the end. I pulled him towards me in a reassuring hug and we cried together as good friends did. "Live with me, Y/N, I'll take care of you," he implored in a way that broke my heart into little pieces.

And just like before, I have to tell him that I can't. "My stepfather will find me," I sobbed. "I can't let him hurt you."

That night I slept in San's room, on his bed while we talked all night about our dreams, with all the love and appreciation I never got with my own family.

The bloody period, figuratively and literally, was over and me and San took a break from all the fighting because even though I laughed at his pain, I did feel bad. My cramps often left me unable to walk sometimes.

I have to say, it wasn't all that bad. I have found utmost joy in opening jars that I wouldn't usually normally have in my real body. I can also reach higher places now and experience my feet touching the floor whenever I'm sitting down. In turn, I had to laugh at San's experience. He's so used to being big and strong and he's experiencing the opposite of mine.

"Can you stop pouting and act normal?" San hissed at me. "You're going to ruin my reputation like that—stop fiddling with it!"

"I'll just replace it with something else," I protested with an edge to my voice. "Seriously, it looks stupid."

San glared at me while fixing his jeans, my jeans, on him. "It's just an earring," he rolled his eyes dramatically. "I wear what you tell me, you don't see me complaining, do you?"

I sighed, annoyed. "Fine."

"Why? I can't do fashion?" he raised a brow at me.

We set out to leave my dorm this time. We've perfected our routine somewhat, by nighttime we go to the frat house, but by dawn we leave to go to mine before everyone wakes up. It was flawless because my roommates barely stay, the last thing I want is for people to think me and San live together. At least on my end. Surprisingly, Ateez has been very hush-hush about it.

"You tell me," I scoffed as we both walked towards campus. "I take it's the same reason you always dye your bangs blonde."

San paused from walking, stiffening as he stared on the floor with a faraway look in his eyes. I frown, looking back at him. He was already staring at me seriously. "Meaning?"

I shrugged nonchalantly. "What else?" He waits expectantly. "Come on, you know why. Do you not hear and see the other girls flocking and moaning your name repeatedly when they see you?"

He narrowed his eyes. "So basically, what you mean is I do it to pick up some pussy."

I was taken aback by his vulgarity. "Is there any other reason?"

"I don't know, have you ever seen me entertain a girl?"

I stop and all is quiet, hardly even a breeze around us. I bit my lip, deep in thought. He was right, there were obviously playboys but San's name was never involved in it.

He smirked, and I had to stop myself from cringing. Did I look that dumb when I did it? "So tell me," I dismissed.

"Let's just keep the peace, shall we?"

Taking a deep breath, we walked in the common area, the hallways, and the moment we did, people started talking. It was a horrible symphony I've heard over and over, but never before towards me. What would you do if fire and ice started acting as if they went well with one another?

"I didn't take you to be a philanthropist," I muttered, deflecting the whispers and the stares. The stares I got as San was good, but the stares that San got as me were the opposite, and he was taking it well.

"Well, we didn't necessarily get along that well, didn't we?" San smirked. "We still don't. Anyway, let's summarize what we researched so far before we get in class."

"Nil, zilch, nada, zip. Nothing except that it might be a curse," I sighed.

"Do you believe in that?" San frowned.

"It's a bit too late not to," I laughed sarcastically. "We're not in our respective bodies."

"Right. Do you remember what happened that day?"

"It was raining, we were fighting, then accidentally kissed, then boom."

San stared at me, amused at the blush on - his - my cheeks. "We kissed again," he smirked. "Never really undid it, so that's out."

"This was a bad idea, we can't talk here," I shuddered at the stares directed towards us.

Suddenly his phone rings, and he frowns when he sees the caller ID. "It's Mingi," he sighed. "Pick it up."

I took the phone reluctantly. "What should I say?"

"Just go with whatever. He just looks rough but, Mingi's harmless," he assured. "Oh, and call him Mangi."

I raised a brow. I can't imagine the daunting Song Mingi being called by a cute nickname. "H-Hello? Mangi?"

"Oh, Sannie!" I was surprised how deep Mingi's voice was on the phone. "It's game night tonight before Thanksgiving, you in?"

"Yes?" I squawked out when San stomped on my foot. This brat!

"You sound unsure?" Mingi chuckled on the other end. "Figures. You've been with her lately. Finally, you learned how to have some balls. How is she anyway? Haven't seen her since that night."

I raised a brow. I decided to ignore that, it must be fraternity lingo. "G-Good, a little frazzled, but good."

"Good to hear. Well, tell her we all wish her good luck at the finals. I'll see you."

"Wait--oh damn," I trailed off when Mingi hung up. "What do we do?"

San took his phone back and patted my shoulders hard. I glared at him. "What else? You go," he smirked. "I have an exam to take, do I?"

I pushed his hand away from me. Here we go again. "Choi San, I've been studying my ass off for the very exam you're going to take for me," I hissed. "If you fail, I swear to God I will sell my soul to Satan just so I could live longer than you and shit on your grave when you die."

He cackled very loudly. "Oh my, that was a good one," he grinned. "Easy peasy, I'll take care of it."

"San, I'm being serious, please."

"I am too," he retorted, clearly offended. "You think I can't handle it? My major is harder and you know it."

"Biology and Economics are two very, very different things," I rolled my eyes. "You think this is peanuts?"

"Yeah, what did you major in? Stupidity?" San chuckles sardonically. I was about to slap his arm but then I stopped when I remembered that for now, I'm not a woman - that meant I would be a man hitting a woman. San seemed to realize it as well and smirked dirtily in my direction.

"I'll definitely fail you---"

"San!"

"Go to the frat house," he shrugged. "And pack your things after."

"Why? You're kicking me out?" I sarcastically asked.

"No," he scoffed. "Thanksgiving at my parents. You up?"

I paused, my features softening. I haven't seen his parents in years, the only people who actually cared for my well being and helped me when I needed it the most. I was forever grateful to them.

"Which car?" I asked.

His face lit up and I had to smile a little. "You wanna drive?" San smiled back.

The smile I was holding back showed itself at the question. I nodded enthusiastically. San remembered. When we were younger, driving was the only thing that relieved my stress when my stepfather abused me.

"What the hell are you looking at?" he hissed when I zeroed in on someone I saw walking from behind him. "Hurry before Mingi calls again!"

"Hold on, my senior is approaching, please act normal," I glared at him. "Or I will skin you alive."

“Ha! I’d like to see you try,” he rolled his eyes. “Seriously? You’re going to give us out!”

And just like that, we were back at our old ways of bickering. A really good friend of mine, Jeno, approached me with the cheeriest smile on his face while San and I just walked aimlessly around the campus.

"That's him? Seriously?" San snapped. "Wasn't that the guy who had been crushing on you since freshman year?"

"How the hell did you know about that?" I stared at him accusingly.

"Word travels fast," he shrugged, clearly annoyed. Then, he had this devilish grin on his face.

"Don't you dare, Choi San, don't you fucking dare---"

"Hey, Y/N!" Jeno finally jogged to both of us, panting a bit to catch his breath. He turns to me and nods slightly. "San."

"I'm sorry, what's your name?" San asked Jeno with that innocent look I used a lot on him.

My eyes widened and the world stopped for a moment. "Uhm, don't you remember me?" Jeno laughed nervously. "It's Jeno?"

"Nah, I could have sworn it was something dumber than that," San grinned mockingly.

Both Jeno and I gasped in shock at San's antics. I grabbed him before he could incriminate the both of us further. "Ah," I interrupted. " I hate to cut this short, but wow, I forgot we had to hurry and leave, haha."

"Yeah, you do that," Jeno trailed off in a daze.

I dragged San rather harshly, not caring if the people around us thought that I was manhandling a poor woman, yeah, my ass!

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" I screamed at him. "You can't just act like that when you don't like someone?"

San looked at me mockingly. "What, you like him, is that it?"

"Are you for real?!" I gritted my teeth. "Why are you dead set on ruining my life? Ugh!"

"I don't have an ax to grind with you though," he grinned.

"No, San. You just want to bury it in my back!"

I walked off and he followed me while he laughed his ass off. God, we were such a ticking time bomb together. Soon enough he was able to catch up to me, and before we knew it we were pretty much at the frat house at this point. We kept bickering and bickering, our taunts borderline offensive at this point.

True to his word, Mingi did call back just like San predicted. "This isn't over!" I glared at him.

With that, I put all my trust in San and went running to the frat house. I collected all the nerves I had stood strong in front of the door.

Truth be told, my heart was pounding extremely fast. Even though they seemed kind so far, that was when I - technically San - was here. Now it was just going to be "just the boys".

"Hey, there he is! The man of the hour," Mingi beamed, ushering me inside where food and drinks lay all over the living room.

"What's all of this?" I murmured, sitting beside the only person I knew so far - Wooyoung, since he would pester San - me - a lot, and for absolutely no reason, Yunho.

"You've been acting weird since you passed out that night," Yeosang shrugged. Cold sweat dripping from my scalp, did they know? I laughed nervously.

"What the hell is going on?" Yunho started. "Seriously San, are you okay?"

"Y-Yes, why do you ask?" I stammered, my heart beating a thousand miles per hour. The room felt small, like it was closing in on me.

"Something's wrong with you," Yunho narrowed his eyes. "It's like you're not you, for some reason."

I was nauseous at the remark, and I have never ever felt the urge to throw up like I was feeling right now. Were we and San that bad in acting?

"You don't talk to me anymore either," Wooyoung frowned. It was the most serious I've ever seen him. "Is it her?"

My chest felt like it might explode from all the questions getting thrown at me. It clicked all of a sudden - did they plan this "game" night just to pry? Did they know?

"Listen," Seonghwa sighed, reaching over to pat me on the shoulders. "Let's solve this before Hongjoong comes back. Tell us, San, do you have a problem?"

"No, I don't I swear!" I remarked a little too enthusiastically than I wanted to.

"Relax, we're not mad at you," Seonghwa frowned. "Mingi, tell everyone what you noticed."

The deep-voiced, criminal justice senior student cleared his throat. "The fact that you and Y/N come back late at night when you think no one is awake?" Mingi smirked. "Or is it when both of you leave at dawn when you think nobody is awake?"

This is where me and San fucked up. Of course everyone would notice, Mingi was the son of a renowned detective, Yunho was a law student, Seonghwa took sociology, Yeosang and Wooyoung were just damn observant. Jongho, I don't interact with that much.

"Is college getting too hard on you? Affecting your mental health?" Wooyoung thoughtfully asked.

Yeosang shook his head in amusement. "It's alright, we know you're pussy whipped."

I blush in embarrassment. San? With me? Impossible.

"I mean I get it," Wooyoung cackled with that annoyingly loud screech of his. "She's the talk of the campus right now."

My brain shut off immediately. Me? My eyes slowly widened with the thought of San doing something that will embarrass the living hell out of me. "W-What? Why?"

"Oh, you haven't heard?" Yunho raised a brow. "Your girl did a little too well on her finals. Who said it, Woo?"

"Changbin," Wooyoung chimed in. "He supervised the presentation and written exams." He teasingly wiggled his brows. "Said it reminded him of how you talk, it's like you guys switched bodies for a day or something."

I froze at that comment, my face twitching in an attempt to stop myself from falling apart at the moment.

I looked around and sighed in relief, it was just a joke. That was a close call. I’m literally sweating out of my pores. I tried to distract myself by listening to their banter, and soon enough, everyone forgot about me.

Except for one person.

Choi Jongho kept zeroing on me with an expression I couldn't pinpoint. I knew that he's aware that I noticed, yet he didn't look away. It was like he was dissecting me alive with his eyes and studying the composition of what made me, well, me.

I tried to brush it off, San did mention that Jongho was the atypical maknae - he didn't revel in being the youngest, rather, he would exercise its power and use it against everyone. If he wasn't staring at me like this, I would have found it cute.

"Ya, Mingi, stop clowning around and pass the food," Yunho rolled his eyes.

"Seonghwa is nearer!" Mingi blurted out.

I laughed when the dragon-looking elder raised a brow and everyone was suddenly friendly again to each other.

"Going home for Thanksgiving?" Yeosang asked curiously. I nodded, not wanting to say a word in case I gave myself away. I put food in my mouth so I have an excuse.

As much as I hated to admit it, but I understood why San chose them over me. They were fun to be around, and it was the type of friendship that extended outside college; it was the type you'd have forever.

Suddenly, the door opened and we all turned around to see San - technically it was my body - standing by the doorway. It got silent as everyone stared at him as he slowly went upstairs. I saw the pain in his eyes and I felt awful because he couldn't join in.

"Y/N, don't go."

It was Jongho. "There's plenty of meat for everyone. Come."

My heart swelled. That was technically San in my body, but in extension, it was like Jongho was asking me to join. I felt relieved, they never really talked to "me" like that, just the occasional greeting.

And just like that it was back to normal. I can tell San was happy, meat was his favourite food after all.

I dropped my chopsticks. They clattered on the table and no one seemed to notice. I looked at the meat, and then San, and then Jongho, who was already staring at me with a blank look in his eyes.

My eyes widened when he smiled, genuinely smiled, at me. He mouthed something I quickly understood because San said the same thing to me.

"I'm glad it was you."

I felt like crying when we finally reached San's parents house after a couple of hours driving. Nostalgia hit me hard as I stared at the door, a symbol of hope I had when I was younger.

"Let's take it easy here, okay?" San knocked on the door a couple of times. "I don't want my mom suspecting anything."

"As long as you don't piss me off we're good," I rolled my eyes, fixing my outfit even though I have to pretend to be San anyway.

"I can't help it," he chuckled. "We have to figure out how to survive, I suppose. Plus, it's only 2 days. You got something?"

"Yeah, San. High blood pressure."

San laughed really loud. "I love your comebacks," he drawled. "It turns me on--"

He was interrupted when the door suddenly opened before I could smack San. There stood the person who took care of me the most, smiling with tears of joy in the corner of her eyes.

"Oof!" San exclaimed when his own mom hugged him - me - instead.

"Y/N, my dear, I'm glad San," she glared at me, thinking I was her son. I had to stop the urge to laugh. "Finally bought you home! Oh, it's been so long!"

"L-Long time no see, Mo--Mrs. Choi," he nervously laughed, glancing at me for help. I pretended that the floor was suddenly interesting.

"Come along, both of you, I prepared so much food," she beamed, grabbing both of our hands and leading us inside the house. I loved how she always reached out to me first even after all these years. I knew San didn't mind either.

We exchanged greetings with his father, who also stood by me, and his sister, a friend I had when San was busy. Even the most mundane things felt so normal to me here. Finally, after so long, I was finally home.

When we were seated at the dining table, my soul felt at peace when I sat in my original seat. They cared for me so much, they designated a chair for me. It's a shame San ruined everything.

"So, biology treating you, kiddo?" Mr. Choi smiled at me while he put some meat on my plate. "Eat up, son."

"Wonderful. Graduating this year," I replied. I kept my answers short even though I had so much to tell. It was just how San was.

Mr. Choi put his hand on my shoulders and I couldn't help but smile at it. Granted, he thought it was his son, but still. I'm going to take all that I can get. He mentions how proud he was and I couldn't help but revel in it.

Dinner was pretty fun, the most I've had in years. We just fell into the rhythm, not caring about what will happen to both of us in the future.

"So, Y/N, any news I should know between you and my Sannie?" Mrs. Choi beams, wiggling her eyebrows in a teasing manner.

San continues eating, and I clear my throat. He looks startled and I point my eyes sharply at his mom. "I'm sorry?"

Mrs. Choi giggles like a teenage girl looking for gossip. It was honestly so cute. "Anything going on between you and San?"

San heaved a long sigh. "No, Mom, nothing is," he grumbled silently.

I choked on my food, and everyone's utensils clattered on their plates. This idiot!

He noticed everyone looking at him with wide eyes. "W-What?" San cowers a bit at the attention. As if lightning hit him, his own eyes widened and he started to wave around like a fool as he realized what was up. "No, no, wait, it's not--"

Mr. Choi hits my back proudly and I choke more. "That's my boy! Finally, we knew this would happen!"

We couldn't even put a word in, Mrs. Choi was already tearing up and sniffling and hugging San. He gulped when I glared at him hard. Communication by staring does wonders for both of us. "Oh, finally, my babies are together," she sniffled.

And that was how we both ended up in his room together despite protesting that we shouldn't.

"You blithering idiot!" I laid it all on him, and pulled his - my - hair hard. Now I get why people do it.

"Ow!" San screamed furiously. "Stop! You ungrateful bitch that hurts!"

"You slipped, how can you slip?!" I screamed.

He got pissed and reached up to pull my ear down in his direction. I yelped in pain. "That's my mother, how can I not miss?!"

"Your mom thinks we're dating! Are you okay with that?" I pushed him down rather aggressively. He glared at this 'you-dare-use-my-own-strength-on-me' look.

"It's fine. That's where it will end anyway," he shrugged, plopping on his bed lazily.

"No. I'd rather gouge my eyes with a spoon," I scoffed, but on the inside, I was screaming in confusion.

He raised an offended brow up. "Goddamn it, if you think I'm unattractive just fucking say so."

"That's the problem, San. I think you're alarmingly attractive."

A dark look passes through his eyes. It's crazy that even though I was looking at my own eyes, it looked so much like San's instead. Before I could take back what I said, I was pulled harshly towards the bed. I yelped when the bed came in contact and my breath stopped when I saw San hovering over me.

"So, you think I'm hot?" San smirked.

I tried very hard not to look in the eye, focusing on the ceiling as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

"I think you're insane," I laughed nervously.

"You know what?" San whispered. "Maybe this weird shit happening to us wasn't so bad after all."

I completely stopped breathing when he leaned down to my ear, the same ear he pulled earlier. "We would've graduated and never saw each other again."

That was true. All I ever wanted was to move on with my life, and I was prepared to do it without San, even though it would have killed me.

"You betrayed me," I whispered back, my voice cracking with all the emotions I hid from him all these years ago. "You gave me back to that monster. Look."

With a shaky hand, I pulled the dress I made him wear on my body to reveal a badly disfigured shoulder. It was ugly; disgusting. The skin was mangled with burn marks and had darkened in time. Unshed tears started to pool in the corner of my eyes as San's jaw tightens.

"How could you do this to me?" I questioned. It was the same question I asked him four years ago.

He adjusted the dress back on his shoulder and held my hand on his. He put it against his lips and kissed it so tenderly, I barely felt it. "I am so sorry," he sighed. "You will understand one day."

My brows shot up in confusion. This was the first time I was hearing this. "What do you mean?"

"Why don't we sleep for now? We'll talk tomorrow?"

I frowned, angry, and I wanted to be angry, but I was too tired to be angry at him because there was no point in feeling so. I knew he was changing the topic and even if he pretended to be fine, it was the fine details - the ticking of his eyes, the quivering of his lips, the slight breathing pattern change, the dilation of his pupils. He was extremely angry.

I gulped. "San--"

"Please," he pleaded, his voice barely audible from my ears. "Can we pretend for one night that nothing had ever changed between us?"

He wiped one lone tear that escaped from my eye, and for the first time since it had happened, I cursed the Gods for switching us callously. I wanted to feel his arms against mine, his soft breaths hitting my skin as he shielded from every trouble that dared touch me.

But no. I was San for now, and he was me.

The air was tangible, one wrong word and the little bubble we had wrapped ourselves will pop. I laid on the bed with San giving my head little pecks here and there.

"You know," I began. "I never got to thank you for getting me an A++ on my finals."

He chuckled from above me. "They told you before I came back, didn't they?"

I hummed in response, but not saying anything back. Once again it was silent, the only thing we could hear was our breathing. Dare I say it was the most comfortable thing I've ever heard.

"Y/N?" San suddenly asked. When I didn't respond he continued. "What if one day, you find out that everything you knew was a lie?"

I tensed against his hold. I wasn't expecting a question that deep right now. "Is this about why you left me?"

"Answer the question."

"I don't know, Sannie. It depends on the lie," I responded. "I don't even know you anymore."

It was his turn to tense. It was a mirror of his anxiety. He cleared his throat rather loudly. "There's a lot about you that you don't know, Y/N."

"Like what?"

He taps my nose with his finger before they go up and fluff the blonde piece of hair he had. "For one," he smirked. "I don't dye this. I have poliosis. Haneul has one too, she just dyes hers dark."

I was at a loss for words, dumbfounded at the revelation. "What?" I almost screeched. "You never told me this!"

He tucked me inside the blanket, almost lovingly, just like I used to when we were younger. "The world is cruel to people like me who are different, I didn't want you to think I was a freak," he shrugged and I felt my heart breaking into pieces. "I'm so sick of seeing my failures in your eyes."

My chest exploded with a million emotions and it hit me - I still loved him. I was in love with him then, and I am still in love with him now.

"San," I spoke with uncertainty, looking deep into his eyes.

There was so much I wanted to say. Falling in love with him was easy, it was admitting to myself how hard I fell. When he asked what if my life was a lie, he didn't know that I was the one lying to myself. I suppose he never noticed, and I could ask him, but what's the point?

For now, we were here, and I was glad.

"Where are we going?" I asked nervously when San lead to an unfamiliar route from the road we were supposed to take. His hold on my hand loosened and I felt him shaking.

"Just a little bit, we're almost there," he cryptically said.

"I'm so excited," I giggled. "Are you excited?"

"Y-Yeah, I am," he replied. I frowned, maybe he was just as nervous as I was.

We finally ran away, San had finally taken me away from my monster of a stepfather who did nothing but destroy me as a person, but guess what? He will never succeed.

That is, until I saw his red car parked in the far distance, the moonlight shining on it as if it was mocking me.

"San?" I croaked, halting my steps. I knew I wasn't seeing things, that was him. "San!"

I felt him pull into my hand and when I wasn't moving, he forcefully pulled me until we reached that dreaded car. I was a crying mess, especially at the thought of my only friend betraying me.

"San, please, don't do this to me," I begged over and over again, reaching to him pitifully when my stepfather grabbed my hair roughly and pushed me into his car. "San, please!"

He stood there, watching as we drove away. I pounded on the back windows, hoping he would snap out of whatever it was that urged him to do this, but nothing. He just stood there, until he was no more.

"Sit properly, you whore!" I heard my stepfather scream.

"Let me go, you demon, just let me go!" I screamed.

"Shut the fuck up, yeah?" he snarled, taking the cigarette from his dirty mouth and extinguishing it on my exposed shoulder.

Now that I think of it, he was acting extremely odd that day. Even if it had been that long already, I knew he wasn't himself. That was four years ago, surprisingly, the abuse did stop. The broken bones and repetitive bruises had healed over time. That rat knows he can't beat me into submission anymore since I was in college now.

Suddenly, his phone rings and when he glances at the caller ID, he curses loudly. "Fuck," he gulped. "It's Hongjoong."

My heart dropped to my stomach. I've been a squatter in the frat house and I've never interacted with the one and only Kim Hongjoong. "I thought he was overseas?"

"Not anymore, I guess. I'll handle it," he murmured. "Hello?"

“Ah, Y/N. Fancy talking to you.”

We froze, cringing hard. San just mindlessly answered the phone, forgetting that he was in my body with my voice. Hongjoong continued before San replied.

"Dare I say that the owner of this phone is with you since you have it?"

"Yes," San coughed. He quickly covered the phone and turned to me. "See what I mean? He's sharp-tongued," he hissed. "Are you back?"

"Interesting. Listen, I got nothing against you, sweetheart, you'll get your turn soon. Pass the phone to San."

Oh, he was pissed. San blabbers, "But--"

"Now."

San reluctantly passes the phone to me. "H-Hello?" I stammered.

"Choi San, do you take me as stupid?"

My eyes widened, dread filling my body. "N-No, not at all."

"Yeah? You think I didn't know you were sneaking around at night and morning? Come home. We need to talk."

"B-But--"

"I know your schedule. You didn't even say goodbye before Thanksgiving. I'm warning you, San. I'm at the airport and you better be back before I do, or else. Drive safe."

Unfortunately, we had to cut that trip short by a day. It was hard to tell his parents, but the assurance of me and San being "together" seemed to make them happy.

"You have to fix this before it gets too far," I frowned at San while we walked back to the frat house. "I don't want to break your mom's heart."

"I will figure it out," he rolled his eyes.

I snapped. "Which means you'll let it slide and hope they'll forget! You owe me, Choi San, you screwed me over with Lee Jeno too!"

"Oh, for crying out loud, Y/N!" San glared harshly at me. "He just wants to get into your pants!"

There was still one day left of vacation so there was nobody around the campus to hear both of us scream at each other's ear. It wasn't until San stopped talking and walking all together when I realized that something was wrong.

And something was very wrong indeed.

"San," I gasped in total shock.

There, in front of the frat house was the red car that I rode every time I had to go to the nearest clinic from all the abuse and trauma I had to endure during my early years. We can both hear my stepfather arguing loudly with none other than Seonghwa, and he was both looking for me and San.

"For the last time, I don't know where they are!" Seonghwa screamed, the anger and authority rolling off of him even from a distance. "And even if I did, I would never tell you."

My stepfather smirks dirtily. "Watch your mouth, boy, I could knock you out right now," he spat.

"I'd like to see you try--stay in the damn house, Yeosang. Tell Hongjoong to hurry up," Seonghwa rolled his eyes, crossing his arms haughtily at my stepfather.

"Get him the fuck out of here then," Yeosang growled. I was stunned, I have never heard him so angry before.

My stepfather seethes in anger at Seonghwa and Yeosang's insubordination. If there was one thing he hated, it was when someone else had the upper hand.

San protectively puts his body in front of me to protect me, not that it mattered, he was in my body; my weak body.

I held onto San for balance. We weren't supposed to be back today and Seonghwa knew it. "Stay with me, okay?" San whispered. "We're going back in the car, watch your step."

But it was too late. I accidentally stepped on a drying leaf, and its crunching sound as my foot hit it reverberated all over the empty campus grounds. I was shaking at this point, the fight between me and San long forgotten when Seonghwa and Yeosang stared at us in shock from the distance.

"San, I'm scared," I whimpered pathetically.

"I'm going to handle this, okay?" San assured me, but even I could hear the tremble in his voice.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't my lovely daughter?" my wretched stepfather cackled evilly as he started to walk towards us.

Here was the monster that ruined my life, standing in the very place I was expecting him to pop out the least, in the flesh. There was something so profoundly evil about him, he was so rotten to the core that I was surprised he hadn't started decaying from the inside.

"I am no daughter of yours," San seethed, still shielding me from behind. I shook his shoulders hurriedly in panic. I whispered, terrified, that he hated it when I backtalked.

Even after all these years, years I spent on campus because I refused to go home even on vacations, I was still utterly terrified of this man. When Seonghwa tried to approach us, I shook my head vigorously.

"No?" my stepfather smirked. "Being in this dump has taught you to be disobedient, yes?"

I screamed when he aggressively slapped San square in the face, something I knew hurt since I've been the target of that for years. My heart stopped when I completely forgot that San was in my body, and that body was weak.

"Wake up, please, wake up, don't leave me again," I sobbed as my stepfather laughed at my pathetic attempts to wake up San, who was clearly disoriented from the powerful backhanded slap.

"Choi San, was it?"

I flinched when I realized that he was referring to me. "My, you have grown into a fine young man," he cackled like a maniac once more.

He went down to my level to whisper. "You good for nothing bitch," he whispered sadistically. "I thought I told you I'd kill her if I see you with her again?"

What if one day, you find out that everything you knew was a lie?

"You were always like a little tick that sucked the innocence out of my baby girl," he mockingly declared. "Well, not anymore."

He was about to try and carry my body out - San - but I stopped him, courage suddenly filling my lungs. "What the hell do you want from us?" I growled aggressively. "Haven't you taken enough for me?"

He raised a brow at the declaration, and I knew I slipped, but I didn't care. "You gave her to me willingly," he scoffed, red in the face. "Pathetic, one word from me saying I'd be 'better' and you believe it?"

What if one day, you find out that everything you knew was a lie?

"What?" I felt my heart breaking to tiny little pieces once more.

My bastard stepfather laughed mockingly in my face. "This college rubbish has ruined her. I will marry this slut to a business partner of mine to expand," he spat. All the blood rushed to my head when I heard this. "Out of my way, brat!"

In one swoop, my body was in his arms and leapt up to try and grab San out of his grip. Once more, I thank God that San worked out and was strong enough. "You sick, sick, son of a bitch," I seethed, an anger I never let out before.

He faltered for a moment before kicking me on my leg, but he was never going to win. He laughed and temporarily dropped an unconscious San, who was again, in my body still, on the dirty ground.

"I should have killed you a long time ago," he sadistically remarked.

We fought right there and then and for a moment, I had the upper hand. My wounded childhood was the one spurring me on as my fists pounded on him repeatedly as I straddled him. Each punch on his clownish face as he lay on the floor felt like a win.

Until it wasn't. In a twist of events, he had managed to flip me over when I got too emotional and straddled me instead, his sick grin widening as he tried to blow a punch. A burst of adrenaline went through me and I held his fists to stop him from punching, struggling since at the end of the day, this still wasn't my body.

"I'm going to have fun ruining your face, pretty boy," he grinned maniacally, blowing punch after punch and so far, I've been avoiding them.

But that can only last so long. I was slowly getting tired and tired and he did manage to hit me once. Stars flooded my vision and I gave up. He was about to punch me again, his fist up in the air and going down and I just waited for the impact to happen.

It never came.

I could have cried when Hongjoong came just in time and pulled my stepfather, who was extremely shocked, away from me. It happened so fast, my stepfather was now fighting Hongjoong and I took that opportunity to crawl towards my body while whispering San's name.

"Easy there, buddy..."

I felt myself being lifted up and I got nervous at first, until I saw Mingi's face above me as he was trying to lift me up from the floor. He put my arm across his shoulders and we huddled close to San's body.

"Now!" I heard Hongjoong shout and I looked up just in time to see Yunho deliver a punch, himself, and it managed to knock my stepfather out cold on the ground.

"Holy shit," I heard Yunho mutter to himself. Who knew that the gentle giant had it in him?

"Wooyoung, go get her," Hongjoong pointed at San, his voice tight and tense. It was an authority I have never, ever felt on anyone before and it honestly made me a bit more terrified of him than all of the Ateez members combined.

"The rest," he panted tiredly and began to walk inside the house. "The rest, get that motherfucker inside and tie him up on the chair, I don't fucking care which."

It was about time anyway, it started to rain all of a sudden and we all made a big run for it inside before we got soaked.

Once Wooyoung carried my body and laid it down on the couch next to where Mingi had placed me, Hongjoong lay it all out, screaming at the top of his lungs with an anger that could have made the Earth tremble and shake.

"I'm gone for a couple of months and this is what I come home to?" Hongjoong shouted, the sound of it so loud it rendered us speechless. My God, he was terrifying. "Nothing to say?"

"I mean, nothing big," Jongho muttered, "It's just that--"

"I'm hearing excuses, Jongho," Hongjoong sarcastically laughed as he banged his hands on the table. "I don't want to hear it. You're the temporary leader, Jongho, what happened?"

I was surprised. All this time, I thought it was Seonghwa. Jongho sighed deeply. "Well, we can start from the beginning," he shrugged, turning to look at me. "Y/N? Who the hell is that?"

"Yes?" I replied almost instantaneously in a panicked state. "Oh, my stepfather--I mean, I don't know!"

I was met with the most surprised stares and the heaviest of gasps. I covered my mouth quickly with widened eyes when I realized what I just did. Jongho crosses his arms and smirks.

"I told you so," he gloated.

We hear a series of groans and I quickly help San get up and sit up properly on the coach and he was as surprised as I was when he noticed everyone staring.

But most of all, I was terrified of Hongjoong. "Well, I'll be damned," he clicked his tongue. I frowned at his lack of surprise.

San sighs heavily. "You guys know, don't you?"

"Wait, hold on a minute," Wooyoung interrupted, waving his hand around. "So all this time when I've been showing you cat videos, it was you?"

I nodded sheepishly, suddenly uncomfortable with all the stares. I can literally hear everybody's gears turning as they internalized all the events that happened during the last few months.

"This is ridiculous," Seonghwa remarks, narrowing his sharp eyes. "How do we know that this isn't some prank?"

Then it starts. Mingi's cheeks reddened when he realized that he has been shirtless a lot of times with me. Yunho laughed when he remarked that he had been wondering why San had been suddenly interested in gaming with him.

"Wait, wait," Yeosang interrupted the ruckus with a loud laugh. "So, San was the one with the period that time?"

"Shut up," San seethed when everyone burst out laughing like maniacs. He points to me accusingly. "You should have seen her when she had the morning wood."

My cheeks were up in flames when I remember when I felt that painful sensation down there one morning; it was painfully hard, sticky, wet. Everybody laughed for a minute straight when me and San started selling each other out, and we looked at each other out.

As usual, one person wasn't saying anything. "How did you know?" I asked a smirking Jongho.

He hesitates, contemplating if he should tell me. "Because it happened to me, as well," Jongho shrugged. "Though not as long as you guys."

All hell broke loose at that statement and the million question was - who did Jongho switch temporarily with?

He glances at someone in particular, and follows his line of sight. "No way, there is no fucking way," Seonghwa cursed. "You?"

"It was last year," Hongjoong shrugged, sitting on the couch lazily. "Lasted for only three days though, I'm not sure why you guys haven't returned yet."

"I don't believe it," Seonghwa narrows his eyes at me and San, and then Jongho and Hongjoong. "Proof or I’m kicking everyone out."

I shrunk. Of course, I wouldn’t expect anything less from the sociology major.

Jongho has this devilish grin on his face. "Remember last year when we all went to that all paid expense getaway?" he laughed. "Surely, you don't think he..." he jutted his thumb at a seething Hongjoong. "...would plan that in the middle of nowhere?"

Another type of hell broke loose at that, but I was at a loss for words. I had nothing to prove myself for. San and I haven't spent the last few years together. "I...I don't know," I admitted. "I can't prove it."

"I can."

Everyone looked at San expectantly. He had this forlorn face, and I got nervous. Something tells me that I wasn't going to like what I was going to hear. "It's about that asshole over there."

He pointed at my stepfather, who was still knocked out. He was tied tightly on a rickety chair. I saw everyone's face tense when San said it. I stared at him, all the hurt that I had buried within me coming out in waves and I had hoped that San was just making it up. The look on his face confirmed that he was not.

"S-San?" I whispered, the betrayal hitting me for the second time. I looked at each and everyone of them. "You all know something."

I stood up from the couch angrily, everyone's eyes on me as angry tears started falling from my eyes. "You left me that day, gave me up like I was some trash you didn't want!" I shouted at San. "You made me believe that you were finally saving me..."

"Y/N, please calm down, I can explain," San begged, hugging my waists hurriedly. Well, thanks to his own strength, I managed to break away. "Y/N, please..."

Both Wooyoung and Yunho stood up to comfort me by holding my hand and rubbing my back soothingly. I couldn't push them away, they were always nice to me. The others just stared at me with pity in their eyes.

I felt the world slowly crashing down on me. I must look stupid, but nobody had ever asked why it had protected me all these years. "And you!" I angrily pointed at Hongjoong and Jongho. "You knew about me and San's predicament!"

Jongho sighed, his eyes softening. "I'm sorry, I really am," he apologized. "Hongjoong and I have been working on it."

Hongjoong rubbed his temples. "Everyone, to your rooms. Now. Jongho, stay."

Everyone that passed me offered me consoling words, and that they were sorry. It was just me, San, Hongjoong, and Jongho left.

"I offer my apologies to you sincerely," Hongjoong began, facing my body as he spoke. "Although I can't say I'm too pleased with you, I understand your predicament."

"What the hell does that mean?" I scoffed.

Hongjoong raised his brow in amusement. "It's not really a secret that you hate Ateez, my dear, and in turn..." he gestured to San. "Him. Can I tell you a small secret?"

"Go ahead," I frowned.

"We are a peaceful group," he began. "The parties were a front for all the charity we do here."

I was surprised. He gestured at the big mirror at the wall and I stared at it. I gasped when he told me to look harder. It was a two way mirror. "A secret room?" I asked.

Hongjoong nodded. "I didn't want anyone randomly coming in and out of here, it was the best we could do. The feminine products were usually what the party people left behind."

It all made sense in my head - how people just worshiped them wherever we went, some of them with admiration, how San always defended them and how he absolutely hated it when I talked shit about them.

"As for your switch," Hongjoong cleared his throat. "We don't know why or how it happens, and honestly? We never dug deep into it, so unfortunately in that area, I'm afraid we can't help you."

My heart sank at his words. "So, we're going to stay like this forever? How did you guys turn back?"

"Hongjoong and I were arguing last year," Jongho started. "I'll spare you the details, let's just say it almost tore this group apart."

I saw San's brows lift up in surprise. Jongho continued. "I don't remember who, but one of us lowered our pride, and then the next day? Poof." Jongho gestured with his arms. "We were back."

"That's it?" San was spiteful and so was I. "We've pretty much solved our issues and we're still like this. You two never thought to look into it further?"

Hongjoong and Jongho looked at each other. "No," Jongho said. "Something out there that has this immense power and isn't meant to be questioned. You think whatever was out there playing with us will suddenly yield and listen?"

"Are there more of us out there?" San asked dreadfully.

"Yes," Hongjoong confirmed. "It's a secret we'll keep, however. Just like we'll keep yours. I'll talk to the boys. And as for this son of a bitch?"

He glared at my stepfather. "Leave it to me."

This was too personal. I got up and left the house in entirety despite everyone's protests from behind me. I swung the door open forcefully and ran out to the soaking rain aimlessly. It reminded me of that night when San and I switched as I looked up to the sky. There was also thunder looming up.

Where do I even begin? I cried as I walked aimlessly trying to find a way out of the campus. I only realized that the rain was cold because of all the adrenaline rushing out of me quickly and I stride forward, screaming and howling.

"Y/N, wait!"

I turned around and it was San, drenched just like me with the most gut-wrenching expression on his face. Tears free falled from his eyes, like the rain. "Let me explain, I'm begging you, please," he pleaded with all his might.

I slapped him, the sound of it louder than the thundering rain. His lips quiver and I almost gave in right there. "How can I ever trust you?!" I screamed at him.

He kneeled on the gravel, something I know would have bruised my knees, and looked up to me with the most forlorn expression. "Please, don't shut me out," he wailed. "My heart won't be able to take it."

It was just us, rain soaked in the melodramatic scene unfolding right in front of us. "You gave me to him, San!" I sobbed pathetically and tried my best to shove him off of me. "He ruined my life!"

I ripped him off of me and tried to run away, but I stopped when he hugged me from behind and buried his face on my back. His wails broke my heart to a million pieces. He began muttering something that I couldn't understand.

"Speak up before I get angrier!" I shouted. My tongue was a sword I'd sharpened because I was so sick of getting. "There was a time I'd lay down my arms for you, San--"

"He said he would never hurt you anymore if I gave you back to him!" he screamed.

Everything stopped at that moment - there was no wind, no tears, raindrops that fell stopped in time - it was just me and San. "Please, Y/N, please just listen to me--"

"I can't think of anything worse," I scoffed. "You think I believe you?"

"I swear!" San sobbed. "He said he'll kill you and find you if you don't return, Y/N..."

He turns me around and grabs my face in his hands, staring deep into my eyes as more tears fall from my eyes. Everything hit me all at once, the beatings did stop but I thought it was because I went to college and he couldn't touch me.

"I should have been stronger for you that time," San wailed, leaning his forehead against mine. "There was never a day I didn't regret it."

We sobbed in each others arms as we got rained on, shivering like leaves, but we didn't care.

"Why didn't you tell me?" my voice cracked. "Why didn't you tell me?!"

"I don't know, Y/N, I don't know!" he wept, desperately clinging onto me as I tried to get away from him. "I thought I was doing what was best for you..."

The moment I realized that I had misinterpreted his actions, his words, all of him for those years, that moment was when my heart broke even more.

"Do you hate me that much, San?" I bellowed. It was the good kind of breaking; the type that led to healing and new ways onward.

"I don't, but I don't like you like that," he whispered. Sometimes, the loss of words would have said more.

His quivering lips landed on my forehead. "Because I love you," he confessed.

MY heart soared, but I wasn't going to let him in. "You left me, San. You were all I had then you were gone!"

"You loved me?"

"That's all you heard?" I scoffed.

"What about now?" San asked hopefully. "Do you still love me?"

I laid all the truth out. "I don't know," I admitted. It was still raining at this point. "When you left, I had decided back then that our futures were different, even though we grew apart, and you know what I hate?"

I laughed sarcastically, tears falling from my eyes again, and I probably looked crazy. "I still held you above others. I still loved you even though I had nothing, no safety, no rights, no place to go, and no one to call to get me out of the hell I was placed onto."

San grabbed my chin and tilted it upwards. "No," he whispered. "You never stopped loving me, please don't say you loved me."

We have always been like this, I realized - a ticking time bomb. It was worse now, especially now that we were older and the way San was looking at me, I knew that we were destined to explode.

"I can't let you go," he said, holding me closer. "I'm never going to let you go. I will always hate myself for letting our love die."

He held gaze, and it could have burned me with how intense it was. He was bitter, those eyes held loneliness. "I know forgiveness is not your strong suit," he whispered.

"San," I cried.

"There was a point where I wouldn't know what to say if I had you," he chuckled remorsefully. "Forgive me."

I guess these were our final days separated and I can say without a doubt, nothing ended the way I thought it would. Both of us leaned together and our lips finally met and it felt right, as if our souls had been intertwined a long time ago.

And then we felt it - that hot, familiar, searing pain that passed through us, only this time, we didn't pass out.

When I opened my eyes, I was looking through San's uncertain ones this time. The real San. I looked down at my body and lifted the small hands I knew I had instead of San's big and rugged ones.

"Oh my God!" I screamed ecstatically, jumping up and down happily. "We're back, San, we're back!"

"Thunder and forgiveness," San laughed sweetly. "Who would have thought?"

"I'm freezing though," I giggled, finally letting go of all the pain and suffering. "My dorm?"

San smirks mischievously, and I screamed joyfully when he lifted me up in his arms and started running hurriedly out of the rain. We missed being in our bodies so much that we reached my dorm in record time with San kicking the door down so harshly that it might have been broken, but we didn't care.

We kissed each other as we hurriedly took our clothes off, not breaking our lips. This is what I wanted, I craved for him - his scent, his warmth, and just him as a person.

I giggled when San bit my lips, each gentle bite giving pleasurable zings of electricity straight down there. I clenched my legs together as San pinned me by the wall, holding my arms up as he grabbed my hands and pinned them as well.

We broke the kiss to take a big gulp of air and the longest, deepest stare followed. "I love you," San whispered, this time giving me the slowest, sweetest kisses against my lips. "I love you so much."

Tears flowed from my eyes and through my tears I whispered back. "I love you too. Now fuck me before I go insane."

His eyes widen and he throws his head back and laughs out loud, his cute dimples showing on his cheeks. "Hold on," he laughed. "I've had your body for months yet this is the first time I've seen it. Let me admire it, please?"

I blushed, embarrassed by the way he says it. He laughs at my predicament. "San, come on..."

"As my princess commands," he smirked, leaning down on my ear. "I'm going to make you scream."

"San," I moaned softly when his hands slid down and gently squeezed my naked ass.

"Oh, I know you already feel good," he groaned. "Are you sure you want this?"

I nodded and he sighed. "Tell me now," he said softly. "I'm not going to be able to hold back."

I gave him a shy smile, and went on my tippy toes to give him a small peck on the lips as my hand reached between his legs and began pumping his already hard cock back and forth slowly, teasing him and relishing the small grunts he was making.

"You like that?" I asked him softly.

"Mhhm," he groaned deeply. The way his face contorted into pleasure was sending me. "Keep going..."

I continued playing with his length - which by the way, definitely wasn't a little worm. He was above average; not too big, but definitely not small either. It was perfect and I loved it regardless. I couldn't hold back a shudder as I felt him buck his hips sensually over and over again on my hand.

He was confused when I suddenly stopped, his eyes glossing over something dark when I kneeled down until my face was eye level with his cock.

"Baby," he croaked when I looked up at him. "You don't have to."

"But I want to," I smiled impishly at him. His self-control was tethering almost close to the edge when I leaned forward and pressed my lips onto the tip of his cock.

"Oh, fuck," his deep growl resounded as he reached out and ran his fingers through my hair as I bobbed up and down his shaft, my cheeks hollowing as I tried hard to let my tongue slide underneath. I groaned against him when I felt him twitching inside my mouth.

The only thing sounding in the room right now was soft, sensual noises along with my gagging and San's grunts as I went faster, and faster. That is, until San pulled out all of a sudden. He groaned when he saw a trail of precum dripping from my mouth onto the floor.

"As much as I loved you sucking my soul through my cock," San laughed, pulling me up and pulling me close to him. I moaned softly when his eyes turned dark and predatory. "Can I fuck you?"

He didn't even let me finish, he began kissing me once more, this time, it was driven by lust instead of sweet surrender. His hands weren't idle either, he slid them up my tits and I moaned against his mouth as he squeezed them. He was gentle, yet persistent.

The kiss lingered for a moment when we both backed up until I landed over my soft bed with San going on top of me. Suddenly, anxiety hit me when his eyes started roaming around my body.

"Don't do that," I whispered, covering my body with the blanket. "I'm broken and bruised, not exactly sexy, isn't it?"

He smirked softly when I nervously laughed. It was true; all the permanent scars that never left my body and marked me in ways that will forever haunt me. I didn't want him to be turned off.

"What did I tell you?" he asked softly, his hand reaching out and lovingly tucking a strand of my hair behind my ears.

My heart thudded against my ribcage as I curiously looked at him. He placed a sweet, chaste kiss on my forehead before he spoke out. "I told you I loved you, didn't I?" San smiled fondly. "That means I love all of you."

"Since when?"

He pretended to think about it, thoughtfully putting a hand to his chin. I laughed and jokingly clicked my tongue at him. I guess this was what love was; the way he was able to ebb away all my discomfort and assure me, make me believe, that I was fine. I loved him so much, it hurt.

"I don't know," he admitted. "One day, I just got mad whenever I imagined you slipping away from me." He kissed me again. "Angry whenever I'd think of someone claiming these." He kissed me once more. "Bitter whenever I'd think of someone else having you instead of me."

"Is that why you talked to Jeno like that earlier?" I rolled my eyes playfully and swatted him across the chest.

He rolled his eyes and nipped my lips almost painfully. "I would appreciate it if you didn't bring another man's name while I'm about to fuck you."

"So do it," I blurted out. "Fuck me."

He narrowed his eyes on me, long gone was his self-control. "You asked for this," San growled.

He gripped his stiff cock in between my already spread legs. I raised my ass to meet my wet hole against it, desperately moaning his name out. "Hurry up," I whined helplessly.

San looked me in the eyes as I felt him stroking and positioning himself along my throbbing cunt. He slid agonizingly slow inside of me, inch by inch, never breaking eye contact with me, until he completely bottomed out. We both moaned out at the delicious feeling of each other.

He would tease me with soft thrusts as I dug my nails on his back. "I knew you'd feel good," he exhaled sharply. "Fuck."

I unconsciously squeezed him and all his self control left him. He began thrusting slowly at first, and then picking up the pace when we both found our rhythm, little moans of pleasure escape us as we fucked each other.

"San, please!" I screamed, feeling every inch of him against my walls. My desperate moans made him rock against me faster, and harder.

"Louder, baby," he growled as he pistoned in and out of me. He leaned forward down my neck, biting and sucking on the soft flesh, its sound combined with the obscene slapping of skin against each other nearly undid me.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," San's low moans reached my ears and his tongue tickled it as well, even nibling on it and sending an unexpected burst of pleasure through me.

I bucked my hips up to meet his fastening thrusts. "Sannie, oh, just like that--"

I screamed when he slammed roughly down on me. "Say that again," he growled against my neck, the demand of it sending pleasurable tears in my eyes.

"W-What?" I managed to ask in between his invasion.

"Call me that again," he grabbed my hips and pulled me tight against him. "I'm begging you, baby, I need it."

"Sannie!" It came effortlessly anyway as I shook beneath his strong body and wrapped my legs around his waist.

"Again," he grunted, pounding into me as our passions rose higher and higher.

"Ah, Sannie, please," I cried out, thrusting my hips hard to meet his as I felt a familiar tingling sensation down my core and soft bursts of whimpers came out of me as he ground against me.

"Again, Y/N, again, fuck..."

"Sannie!"

This wasn't fucking - as cheesy as it may sound, we both knew that it was the both of us giving each other the love we couldn't for all these years. It was such an intimate experience and connection, even though we were going roughly at the same time.

"Again!"

I'm not usually one for domination and submission, but with him, I'll do anything. I know he won't hurt me.

San leans up a bit and he groans as he watches his cock go in and out of me. "God, you're so wet, babygirl," he smirked at my fucked out face. "I didn't even need to finger you..."

"Can you just keep fucking?" I snapped.

He laughed like the little demon he was, it turned me on so much, and he thrusted harder. "You really can't help acting like an ass even though I'm inside you, huh?"

I grinned. "It's not going to change."

San began going in and out faster and faster, his thrusts building in speed and power. I gaped, screams of pleasure filled the room, as San's throaty rumble of pleasure gave way as his thrusts became sloppier. I knew he was close.

"I'm going to cum inside you, oh fuck, can I cum inside you?" San's moans were getting more and more high-pitched.

"Please!" I begged, digging my nails on his back.

He hammered himself into me, each thrust a jolt of burning heat as my own orgasm started to approach, and when San felt it, he began doing so more relentlessly. "S-San--"

It was a toe-curling orgasm, one I haven't felt before. San growled in my ear, saying my own over and over like a prayer, as I felt him shake, then wail, and then gasp. I moaned when I felt ropes of warm cum spurt into me over and over, again and again.

His thrusts subsided and he pulled me into a tired and tender kiss, our lips lazily against each other, and then we laughed hard at what just happened. Something tells me we were going to be alright.

𝙱𝙾𝙽𝚄𝚂 𝚂��𝙴𝙽𝙴:

It turns out we didn't need to correct San's parents, after all. Imagine how pleased Mrs. Choi was when we told her we were making it official.

"Ready to go, babe?" San lovingly asked as he fixed the collar of his dress shirt. When he struggled to put on his tie, he sheepishly smiled at me.

"Need help, tough guy?" I smirked, standing up from the couch and making my way to San. "Kiss me first."

He didn't waste any time and gave me a kiss that rivaled every poet's work and it spoke volumes about the passion we shared.

We broke off and laughed at all the complaints and protests we received from the entire group. Ah, I suppose I'm part of their little group now and we were currently in the frat house.

"Ugh, Lord Almighty, you two are disgusting," Seonghwa rolled his eyes, clearly disturbed. "Decency is not a concept known to both of you, is it?"

He walked over to me and San and pulled him away from me. "I'll fix it," he referred to the tie. "Before you two start dry humping."

"Rude," I glared jokingly.

"Kind of miss when you two hated each other," Mingi grimaced, plopping next to a snickering Yunho, who said. "Right, there would be none of..." He pointed at me and San accusingly. "...that."

"Jealous of the lack of love in your lives?" San questioned. Mingi and Yunho looked at each other and blushed. "Or not."

Suddenly, a glass of delicious looking smoothie was shoved in my face. It was Wooyoung, who was giving me a pointed look. "What's this?" I frowned, inspecting it.

"Breakfast shake," he shrugged. He patted my back. "No time to eat before you guys go. Good luck, hmm?"

"Thank you," I grinned. "You were an unexpected friend."

"Unless the smoothie gives you diarrhea," Yeosang chimed in. I laughed when Wooyoung turned red and he was about to shout when we all heard Hongjoong yell from outside the house.

"Oi, loverboy! Get in the car before me and Jongho drive off and you'll be walking!"

"Alright," Yeosang pulls me into a small hug. "Goodluck, okay?"

"Give us good news, okay?" Seonghwa smiled tightly while he ushered us out to Hongjoong's car.

I giggled like a schoolgirl when San opened the door for me and I sat beside Jongho in the back, who rolled his eyes dramatically at us while making gagging sounds.

It was hilarious how me and San, hopeless romantics, got stuck with Hongjoong and Jongho, the non-hopeless romantics.

"Nervous?" Jongho asked me while Hongjoong and San walked through what to do when we got to our destination.

I unconsciously touched the marred, disfigured cigarette burn on my shoulder, and it didn't escape Jongho's attention. "Don't," he pursed his lips tightly. "Don't let him win."

San and I decided one day that everyone needed to know everything from the beginning - how San and I were childhood friends, my abusive stepfather after my mother died, San being threatened by him, all of it. The night that I cried in San's arms was also the night that I gained seven more friends.

"I know, I won't let you guys down," I assured. "Thank you for doing this, both of you, you didn't have to."

Hongjoong looked at me through the rear mirror with concern. "You didn't see what we all saw that day," he tensely said. "I was driving home excited to see everyone, and what did I see?"

He paused to collect his thoughts. "A big man beating San to death and an unconscious girl on the ground while the rest tried to scramble outside. Do you have any idea how I felt when Jongho told me your bodies were switched?"

"Being witnesses to the trial is what we want, believe me," Jongho said.

Tears started forming in my eyes. My stepfather ruined everything for me - my life and my childhood specifically. I lost a lot of time with San and I'm so mad that I lost out on these wonderful people. Better late than never, I suppose, at least we're here now.

Sooner or later, me and San were holding hands outside of the courthouse. I didn't want to do it, but Wooyoung and Yeosang were the ones that convinced me the most that I should press charges against my stepfather. San also decided to press charges for blackmail. Mingi called his brother to arrest him, and Yunho's father was kind enough to represent me as my lawyer.

"Like what you see?" San smirked when he noticed me ogling at him. He smiled at me mischievously. "Maybe we can...do some stuff when we get home."

I playfully slapped his arm. "Pervert," I rolled my eyes. "You do look good though, I love your hair like this."

"You do? The blonde isn't jarring?" San asked, obviously anxious about it the natural blonde piece of hair

"Nah," I fixed his hair a bit for him and he revels in it. He loves getting his hair touched, at least by me. "Maybe we could dye the blonde like a teal blue for a change if you want."

"Sounds good, babe," he agreed. We giggled a bit before we had to become serious again.

We both stared at the daunting courthouse in front of us. "It's anticlimactic, huh?" San kissed my hand lovingly. "The ending, at least."

"It's better this way, I guess," I shrugged.

When we switched bodies back, we pretty much never talked about it ever again, just like Hongjoong and Jongho never did.

"How so?" San wondered.

I smiled at him and pulled him close to me so I could give him a tight hug. "Those days we spent apart were hard for me," I whispered. "But we grew separately and now we're better together because of it."

San held my face tenderly in his hands and stared deeply into my eyes. "Having you back means the world to me," he spoke. "Just do me a favour this time, okay?"

I looked at him expectantly. "Stay," he smiled. "Please stay with me, promise me."

"So as long as you don't leave me again," I answered with a bittersweet smile on my face. "Let's do this."

I loop my arm on his and he seemed pleased. "Let's," he laughed, then leaning so we could share one more sweet kiss before we faced the world together.

In his kiss are years I know we'll spend together and the sweetness of the love we'll share as days go by. In his kiss, I am home.

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drowning-in-paragraphs · 17 days ago

Note

hii! could you write a fic where you and kids are at the club with friends and some guy is bothering you and jude steps in being all protective🤭

maybe some of the other boys like trent can be there too helping the reader out!

a/n: there you go! I didn't know what you meant by kids and I think I wrote something different, but I hope you like it! (I don't know why, but I really enjoyed writing this story)

SAVIOR

jude bellingham x reader

warnings: a creepy man who makes unwanted touching and may contain some mistakes.

summary: A fun night out with friends takes an unsettling turn when a drunk man repeatedly tries to approach you. But don't worry—Jude and your friends step in to ensure you're safe and sound.

The neon lights of the club pulsed rhythmically, casting a wash of color over the buzzing crowd. You were tucked into a plush VIP booth with the England squad, or at least part of, celebrating after a week of intense matches. The night had been perfect so far—filled with laughter, dancing, and a few too many drinks passed around. The music was loud, but the familiar rhythm had everyone swaying, lost in the moment.

You glanced around the table, a smile tugging at your lips as you watched your friends enjoying themselves. Jude Bellingham was seated across from you, his signature playful grin never far from his face as he bantered with Trent Alexander-Arnold, who was lounging next to him with his drink in hand. Next to you, Bukayo Saka was trying to pull Tolami Benson, his girlfriend, onto the dance floor, but she was having none of it, shaking her head and laughing at his enthusiasm.

You had been friends with these guys for what felt like forever. You met them through Trent, whom you had known since you were little. They always made you feel like part of the crew—especially Jude. There had always been something a little different with him, though neither of you had ever talked about it. There was an unspoken closeness between you two, a connection that felt deeper than friendship, though it remained undefined. Tonight was no different; his gaze would occasionally flicker to you through the crowd, and whenever it did, your heart would skip just a bit faster.

“Come on, dance with me!” Bukayo was still pleading with Tolami, tugging at her arm while she shot you a look of mock desperation.

“Help me out here,” Tolami leaned into you, her dark eyes sparkling with amusement. “Can you tell him he needs to stop embarrassing himself?”

You chuckled, leaning back in the booth, your drink cool in your hand. “You might as well give in. Your man’s relentless.”

“No chance,” Tolami replied, shaking her head firmly, but her grin betrayed her affection for Saka. She finally relented and stood, leading him onto the dance floor as he grinned triumphantly and you laughed loudly over the music.

Everything was perfect, and the night was exactly what you needed—a break from life’s stresses, surrounded by people who made you feel at home.

You leaned forward, your elbow resting on the sleek table as you took another sip of your drink, enjoying the fizzy, sweet burn on your tongue. Trent was next to you, casually talking, but your focus kept slipping, drifting to Jude seated across from you. Every now and then, his knee would brush against yours under the table, just enough to make you wonder if it was on purpose. Each time, he’d flash you that familiar grin, the one that always seemed to say more than his words ever did.

That beautiful grin softened, and he raised his glass in your direction, a silent toast, though the meaning felt deeper. You smiled back, a little more knowingly this time, wondering if he felt the same unspoken bond that lingered between the two of you. Trent interrupted your thoughts, nudging Jude’s arm, clearly telling some joke that you couldn't hear over the music but that made Jude throw his head back in laughter.

However, the looks you gave the Real Madrid player, made Trent aware of the tension, because after a while, his eyes flicked between the two of you, amusement tugging at his lips. He smirked, raising his drink. “You know, I think I’ll hit the dance floor—gotta show these amateurs how it’s done.”

He winked, pushing himself off the booth, giving you a knowing look before heading toward the thrumming mass of bodies. You laughed, watching him go, but the air between you and Jude immediately shifted once Trent was gone.

Jude leaned in slightly, his shoulder brushing against yours, his voice a little lower than before. “Tolami is going to hate us when she sees herself in the middle of Trents and Bukayos dance moves. Maybe we should go…”

You smirked, rolling your eyes at him. “Maybe we should later. Can’t a girl have a peaceful night?”

Jude chuckled, his arm resting casually along the back of the booth, fingers brushing the side of your shoulder. The simple contact sent a jolt of electricity through you, and you couldn’t help but glance at him. His eyes locked onto yours, lingering for a second too long. There was that look again—the one that made your heart race, the one that always hinted at more than either of you ever said.

“Peaceful?” Jude leaned in, his voice smooth and low, the kind that sent shivers down your spine. “You? I don’t believe it.”

You laughed softly, raising a brow at him. “Perhaps you’re just not paying attention.”

“Oh, I’m paying attention,” he said with a smirk, his hand subtly grazing your arm, playful but enough to send a ripple of excitement through you.

But your good mood faltered when you felt it again. That strange sense of being watched, of someone’s gaze—not Jude’s—looking at you. You glanced over your shoulder, and there he was—the same guy who had tried to approach you earlier in the night. He was standing by the bar now, staring at you. You had brushed him off twice already, but it seemed like he wasn’t getting the hint.

“Earth to Y/N…?” Jude brought you back to the conversation, his breath warm against your cheek.

You laughed, but the way the man stared made you feel unsettled. Without missing a beat, you forced a smile to hide your discomfort. “You were right, let’s dance,” you said suddenly, standing up and grabbing his hand.

Jude’s brows raised, surprised but pleased as he followed you onto the crowded dance floor, his grip tightening slightly as if sensing your shift in mood. You didn’t look back toward the bar, instead focusing on the music, the flashing lights, and Jude, who was now right in front of you, close enough to chase away any lingering unease.

The music pulsed through the dance floor, a heavy beat vibrating in your chest as you and Jude found a rhythm together. His hands rested on your waist, fingers lightly pressing into the fabric of your dress, guiding you closer with each step. You could feel his breath against your neck, his movements smooth, matching yours effortlessly. Every subtle touch, every brush of his hand sent warmth rippling through you, and you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips as you let yourself get lost in the moment.

Around you, Bukayo was spinning Tolami in a playful circle, both of them laughing as Trent danced nearby, his usual smooth moves showing off. It was a perfect, carefree moment shared with your friends, yet your earlier unease still nagged at the back of your mind.

As Jude leaned in to whisper something teasing, his lips dangerously close to your ear, your eyes caught movement near the bar.

The man’s presence unsettled you, and his persistent attention kept your nerves on high alert. You tried to brush it off, focusing on enjoying yourself and ignoring him. But each time you glanced away, there he was—eyes locked on you. His gaze followed your every move, every part of your body, a silent weight that sent chills racing down your spine, the kind that only faded after another sip of your overly sweet drink.

Rolling your eyes, you turned back to your friends, trying to shake off the unease creeping up your spine. Maybe he’d finally give up and move on, you hoped. But even as you laughed along with the others, you couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling that he was still there, hovering just out of sight.

Trying not to draw attention, you leaned over to Tolami when she passed by you, her hand brushing yours as you quickly whispered, “That guy from earlier—he’s still watching me.”

Tolami’s smile faltered slightly as she shot a glance toward the bar, immediately spotting him. Her expression tightened, protective and concerned.

“Want me to deal with that git?”

You smiled at her fierce loyalty, even though part of you felt bad for involving her. “Nah, I think he’ll get bored eventually.”

Tolami didn’t look convinced, but she nodded, squeezing your hand reassuringly before returning to Bukayo. You took a deep breath, trying to shake off the feeling. Jude’s hand slid around your waist again, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin, pulling your focus back to him. He didn’t seem to have noticed what was happening.

As the night carried on, you found it harder to stay focused on the music and laughter around you. Your gaze kept darting toward the bar, each time hoping the man had moved on, but he hadn’t. He was still there, staring, an unsettling smile playing on his lips that disappeared when he took another sip of his drink. Despite your efforts to shake off the discomfort, the weight of his deep eyes made it impossible to fully enjoy the moment.

Jude’s strong arm remained securely around your waist as you danced, his touch gentle, comforting. Yet, he seemed to sense something was off, his eyes flicking to your face, a crease forming between his brows. Without saying a word, he glanced toward Trent, tilting his head slightly in your direction. Trent caught the gesture, raising an eyebrow as if to say, what’s up?

Jude mouthed, “She’s off,” while giving a subtle nod toward you.

Trent’s eyes narrowed with concern as he looked between the two of you, clearly picking up on Jude’s silent observation. He didn’t say anything, but his lips pressed into a thin line, like he was filing away the information for later.

The persistent feeling of being watched gnawed at you, and despite the music thumping in your ears, that man’s smile kept cutting through the sound. It was unnerving, and even though Jude’s presence was reassuring, it wasn’t enough to push the discomfort away.

After a while, Trent, Jude, and Bukayo decided they had enough of the dance floor, pulling away to head back to the plush VIP booth. Jude shot you a glance as if silently asking if you were okay to stay, but you gave him a nod and a forced smile, not wanting to ruin the vibe for anyone else.

“Come on, Tolami, let’s stay a bit longer,” you said lightly, holding onto her hand. She smiled and agreed, both of you swaying to the beat as the boys returned to the reserved area. It was nice to have a moment with her, and for a second, you managed to relax.

But the moment was short-lived.

The man saw his chance. With the boys no longer close by, he pushed off from the bar and began walking toward you. His eyes never left yours, that unsettling smile still fixed on his face. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end as he approached, weaving through the crowd with a clear, unwelcome intent.

The man moved closer, his steps slow and deliberate as he navigated the crowded dance floor. Your heart raced, your body instinctively tensing as he approached. Tolami was by your side, but you felt exposed without the group nearby. You exchanged a quick, uneasy glance with her, and her smile immediately faltered as she caught sight of the guy coming toward you.

Before you could react, he was standing right in front of you, much closer than he had any right to be. His presence was invasive, and the smell of alcohol clung to his breath as he leaned in, brushing against your shoulder. His hand grazed your arm, sending a wave of disgust through you.

“I told you earlier,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady despite the nerves twisting in your stomach. “I don’t want a drink. I don’t want anything from you.”

He ignored your words, a sleazy grin spreading across his face. “Come on, don’t be like that. Just one dance,” he slurred, his hand lingering on your arm as he moved closer, his body pressing against yours.

Tolami stepped in quickly, trying to push him away. “She said no, git. Get lost,” she demanded, her tone firm but her smaller frame struggling against his weight. The guy didn’t budge, his attention entirely focused on you, his hand gripping your waist now, tighter than you wanted.

“Get off me,” you said, panic rising in your voice as you tried to pull away, but his grip only tightened. Tolami tried again, pushing harder against him, but he swatted her arm away with a dismissive laugh.

Fear surged in your chest as you looked around for help, the crowd oblivious to what was happening. It felt like everything slowed down in that moment—until you caught a glimpse of someone moving quickly through the mass of people.

Jude.

At first, he was calm, trying not to make a scene, his presence almost casual as he slid between you and the man, his signature grin in place, though there was a dangerous edge to his voice. He took the guy´s hand out of your waist before he said, “Mate, she’s not interested. No need to ruin a good night.”

The man glared at Jude, clearly not willing to give up, his smile turning into an annoyed grin. “Relax, dude. We’re just having a little fun. Why don’t you go find a girl for yourself? This one’s already taken.”

He grabbed your arm again, and squeezed possessively, making you whimper.

And that’s when Jude’s demeanor shifted entirely.

His polite tone dropped, replaced by something cold and unyielding. His eyes hardened, his jaw clenched as he took a step closer, his voice low and dangerous. “Let go of her. Now.”

For a moment, the man hesitated, sensing the change in Jude’s energy. But when he still didn’t back down, Jude’s temper flared. “I’m not gonna say it again, you fucking idiot. Let. Her. Go.”

By then, Bukayo and Trent had noticed the situation, quickly making their way over. Bukayo’s face was tight with anger, and Trent didn’t bother hiding his irritation either. They flanked Jude, their presence a clear warning. Tolami moved beside you, standing protectively in front as Jude glared down the man who still hadn’t released you.

The guy’s eyes flicked between the group, realizing he was outnumbered and had no chance of winning this. His grip on your arm finally loosened, and he took a step back, muttering something under his breath. Jude didn’t take his eyes off him.

"Walk away," Trent said, his voice cold. "Now."

The man faltered, his cocky demeanor faded as he looked around, clearly second-guessing his decision to push his luck.

But Jude had already ran out of patience. He stepped closer, his eyes locked on the man, and when he spoke again, his voice was dangerous. “I’m not going to ask again. Get the fuck out of here, or we’ll make you.”

That did it.

The man’s bravado crumbled under the combined weight of their stares, and he finally took a step back, muttering something under his breath as he retreated into the crowd. You watched as he disappeared into the sea of people, the tension in your chest finally easing.

Jude turned to you immediately, his expression softening as he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You alright?” he asked, his voice gentle now, the anger from moments ago completely gone.

You nodded, though your heart was still racing. “Yeah… thanks. I didn’t think he’d actually… you know.”

Jude’s hand slid down to your back, pulling you into a reassuring side hug and kissed your temple. “I’ve got you.”

Tolami gave you a tight smile, clearly relieved the situation hadn’t escalated further. “That guy was a total creep. You alright?”

“Yes, now I am, thank you guys,” you said, though the lingering unease hadn’t quite left. You glanced around the group, grateful for their support. Bukayo gave you a small nod, his arms crossed but his expression soft, and Trent offered a light pat on your back, his usual teasing grin reappearing as the tension faded.

“Guess that’s one way to end the night,” Trent joked, though his eyes still held concern.

Jude kept you close as the group slowly made their way back to the VIP booth, his arm still around you as if he wasn’t willing to let go just yet. The warmth of his presence, the security of having him there, chased away the last traces of fear.

As you settled back into the booth, Jude leaned in, his voice soft and only for you. “Next time, just say the word, and I’ll deal with it sooner.”

You smiled up at him, your heart swelling with gratitude. “I know. Thanks, Jude. Really.”

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham comfort #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham imagines #jude bellingham angst #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x you #jude victor willliam bellingham #hey jude #jb5 #jude victor william bellingham #rma #rmcf #bellingham #bellingham x reader

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mrsbarnesblog · 1 year ago

Text

I trust you

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Summary: when Bucky comes back from a mission with a knife wound there is only one person who can convince him to get help.

Words count: 3.5k

Warnings: angst and fluff, injury, wounds, low self-esteem, bucky has trust issues and needs a hug, touch starved bucky,

Author’s note: ugh just let me hold my baby and kiss his cute sad face omggg... anyways, idk why I rarely write angsty things, I really wanna do something new, so if you have any ideas let me know! 💘

It was almost eight o'clock in the evening when FRIDAY reported that the guys' quinjet should arrive at the compound within an hour.

Steve, Sam, and Bucky went on another mission to destroy HYDRA almost two weeks ago. As usual, none of you could get any news from them because they couldn't risk giving away their whereabouts.

It was foolish to assume that you weren't worried about them. Especially for one person. Bucky.

You and the former Winter Soldier met about six months ago when Steve and Sam first brought him to the tower. Steve was really worried about his old best friend, so before bringing Bucky to the tower, he talked with the team and asked all of you to give Bucky space.

Of course, you knew who he was from the day Steve found out that Bucky was alive. You have seen hundreds of reports and photographs on TV and on the Internet about The Winter Soldier, a ruthless killer who was always invisible but too damn good at his missions. He is the man who was turned into a weapon against his will.

When Steve introduced him, the whole team just nodded and shared awkward smiles, and Bucky himself kept his eyes on the ground. The whole situation was too intense, and no one, not even the funny and sarcastic Tony Stark, knew what to do or say. You actually thought that it might be rude to just stand there and look at him, as if he was a wild animal. Looking at this shy and uncomfortable-looking man before you, you knew that the smallest thing you could get him was to show that he was welcomed in this tower and that everyone was on his side. So, pushing away your own shyness and nerves, you stepped forward, holding out your right hand.

"Hi, my name is Y/N. It's nice to meet you. I hope you’ll feel comfortable around here." You offered your warmest and most sincere smile, trying not to show nervousness.

Bucky slowly raised his head, genuinely surprised that anyone else had actually spoken to him besides Steve. It's nice to meet you. When had he heard those words for the last time?

Your eyes met, and you could have sworn all the air was out of your lungs. His eyes were even more beautiful than in those rare, high-quality photographs. He looked truly beautiful, with long hair and blue eyes, even though you could see that he was tired—physically and even more emotionally. You stood for what seemed like an eternity, looking at each other's faces, until Bucky got a little nudge from Steve on the arm.

Only then did his gaze move to your still outstretched arm. He hesitated a bit, unsure if he wanted to be touched or feel someone’s warm skin. It’s been too long since another person wanted to touch him without causing any harm. Even Steve gave him minimal physical contact. Always through the gloves or thick jacket, and Bucky didn’t know the true reason for this—whether it was because Steve cared about his feelings or he just didn't want to do that. But then Bucky looked at you again, and he already knew that you would be his death.

You were so beautiful. Probably the most attractive person he has ever seen. It was still morning, and he assumed that you planned to have a day for yourself because you had no makeup, your hair was a little bit messy, and you looked really comfy in a big sweater and a pair of black leggings. Oh, and he definitely noticed your cute, fluffy pink socks. Your eyes were full of friendliness and comfort, so it made him want to trust you. Your lips curled into a warm smile, and he had no doubt that you wanted to make him feel comfortable on the team.

Bucky lifted the corners of his lips slightly, meeting your eyes again, and held out his right hand to you, still feeling awkward. Especially when the whole team around you watches your interaction too closely.

"Hi."

When the Quinjet landed on the territory, you couldn't calm your pounding heart. Natasha, who was standing a couple of steps away from you, of course, noticed your condition but didn’t say anything and just sent you a reassuring smile. She knew you'd calm down when Bucky was by your side.

Sam got out first. He looked tired, had a couple of scratches and bruises, but was generally fine.

"Sam! God, I'm glad you're okay." You said, running closer to him. "How is Bucky? And Steve? Are they okay?" Your worried eyes ran across his face, trying to find answers, but he only pursed his lips and lowered his eyes to the ground.

"Steve’s fine, and Bucky, um... I think you should see it yourself. And I think you need to have a serious talk with this idiot because he doesn't listen to us." Your brows furrowed, but before you could ask anything else, footsteps and stifled moans were heard behind Sam.

It felt like your heart stopped as soon as you saw him. Blood flowed from his temple and lip, and an already darkening bruise adorned his right cheekbone. Your eyes rushed down, trying to find all the damage, and then you saw it. Bucky kept his right hand on his left side. His entire palm was scarlet red as the blood passed through his thick suit and soaked through his fingers. Your mouth opened involuntarily, and your eyes instantly filled with tears.

Of course, this was not his first mission, but he always returned almost without any injuries or with something that quickly healed because of his supersoldier serum. It has never been so bad.

Before you knew it, you were already standing next to him. Tears flowed freely down your face, and you raised your hands up, wanting to touch him, but they froze in the air.

"Bucky…" You sobbed, looking straight into his eyes.

"Hello, doll" He smiled reassuringly at you, but you saw how he pressed his teeth together to ease the pain. He didn’t want to scare you.

"Bucky, God, wh-what happened? You need to go to the hospital wing. You’re losing a lot of blood!" You gently took his metal hand, but before you could lead him away, he removed it and moved away a little.

"It's all right, doll. Nothing that I can't handle on my own. Trust me, I’ve experienced worse."

"Buck, Y/N is right." You notice Steve for the first time because all your attention has been focused on Bucky since he appeared. "That punk cut you pretty deep; it needs to be stitched up."

"You know, I never go to the hospital wing." He purses his lips awkwardly, looking down.

Of course. Of course you knew it. Everyone in the tower knew that the Winter Soldier didn't like being touched or visiting doctors, and he had never asked for any kind of help. He always limited himself to a short handshake or a pat on the back from his best friend.

But you also knew that Bucky couldn't take off his clothes in front of anyone. Too many scars from bullets, knives, and other things that HYDRA used to torture him He confessed this to you one evening when you were sitting in the dark in the common room after his nightmare.

In those six months, you got close enough to him that he trusted you to sit with him in the stillness of the night and share his fears. But he still avoided touching and, of course, did not want to show his body to anyone. Even you. Especially to you.

You were one of the few good things in his life. Someone who genuinely wanted to spend time with him, who wasn’t afraid of him, and who was always kind and supportive. Bucky didn't want to lose you. And he knew that if you ever saw him with those ugly marks all over his body, you would run away without looking back. Because who would like it?

The hand that took hundreds of lives. The hand that was forever connected to his body left a big reminder that he was, in fact, just an experiment that went too well. He often looked at his shoulder in the mirror with anger and despair, wanting to get rid of this mixture of scars and torn skin. Obviously, when HYDRA put that prosthetic on him, they didn't care much about looks or pain, so they just hooked it on the way they did.

"Bucky, please listen to me." You sobbed, moving closer to him again. "I know you're afraid to go there, but please, you have to do it, otherwise, you'll lose too much blood or just get an infection." You hugged yourself with your hands as your body began to tremble with concern for the person in front of you. "It can leave a big scar." You whispered and saw that Bucky’s jaw clenched again. You didn’t want him to think that there was something wrong with having scars, but you knew that it was emotionally too hard for him to deal with them.

"I'm sorry, doll, but I can't," he pursed his lips, shaking his head, "you know I can't do it."

"Bucky…" you whispered as more tears started flooding your face. You were so focused on Bucky that you didn't even pay attention to your friends, who stood aside and pretended not to eavesdrop on your conversation.

"Don't cry because of me, doll, please, you don't have to cry." Bucky's voice lowered to a whisper as he worked up the courage to use his thumb to wipe a tear from your right cheek with a metal finger.

You took advantage of the opportunity, grabbing his metal wrist and pressing his hand closer against your cheek.

"Please, Bucky. Then let's go to your room. I can help you if you don't want to undress there.

"I don't think it's a good idea either, doll. You don't need to see it."

"James," you focused on his eyes, rubbing small circles with your thumb into his wrist, "it'll be alright, I promise. I'm not afraid of you. I won’t leave. I'll take care of you. Please do it for me."

You were hurt by his gaze. You've seen a thousand thoughts go through that head. Doubt, fear, uncertainty, and pain. He couldn't lose you. Couldn't lose what you had. Even if he wanted so much more, he was content just being around you. He couldn't lose you to a damn ugly piece of metal attached to him.

But you looked at him like your life depended on it. Tears were still running down your cheeks. You were hurt because of him. But you refused to give up and let his self-doubt win this fight. You continued to gently massage his metal wrist as you placed a light kiss on it. And he could no longer resist you.

"Fine."

"It's better if we do this in the bathroom," you said as you closed the door to Bucky's room behind you. You quickly walked past him, going into the bathroom and pulling out the first aid kit you knew was in the bottom drawer. You felt comfortable being a little bit bossy here, and Bucky didn’t mind it.

He quietly followed you, watching you with an unsure face. His blood was still soaking through his arm, but that didn't bother him as much as the fact that he'd have to undress in front of you and that at some point you would touch him.

Once all the necessary things were ready, you turned to face Bucky, already preparing to help him out. But as soon as your hands went up to help him unbuckle his suit, he staggered back, and you froze with your hands in the air. For a few seconds, you silently looked into each other's eyes, then you moved, trying to understand his reaction, and what you saw made your heart ache.

His brows were slightly furrowed, and the corners of his lips were turned down. His eyes always told you everything that he tried to hide, and right now they told you how scared and insecure Bucky actually was.

"I don't think I can do it." Bucky whispered softly, casting his eyes down in shame.

"Hey James, look at me," you said, taking his face in your hands. "I'm your friend, you know? I won't hurt you. I won’t judge you. I won't do anything against your will. But I need to help you because I can see how much pain you're in," you sighed, running your fingers over his cheekbones. "I know it's hard. And I know you're scared or shy, but I'm here for you. None of this scares me, and I'll be as gentle with you as I can, okay? You can tell me if it becomes too much, and I'll stop. I promise." You could see the tears forming in his eyes, and you couldn't help feeling the pain that this beautiful man in front of you had been without care and affection for so long.

Bucky nodded slightly, giving you permission to continue.

"I’ll clean up your wound on the ribs, and then we can take care of your face." You carefully removed your hands from his, now placing them on the clasps of his suit. You opened them one by one, and when you finally got to the last one, you helped Bucky carefully remove that piece of clothing. Next on the way was a stretchy long-sleeve shirt, and by glancing at the wound, you could see that all the tissue around it was completely covered in blood.

"So, now I'm going to carefully lift up the shirt so you can take it off and not bother your wound too much, okay?" you asked, running your eyes over Bucky's face to understand his emotions. He took a deep breath, as if preparing for the worst, but nodded anyway.

You started to slowly lift up his shirt, helping Bucky pull his hands out one by one, and then tossed that no longer needed rag into the bathtub.

"Oh god," you muttered softly, looking at the wound that seemed to be even bigger now.

Bucky thought that you said it about his appearance in general, so he lifted his head up to the ceiling to stop angry tears from falling.

Come on, Buck, we need to sew this up so it doesn't leave a scar. Do you think you can sit on the counter next to the sink?" You looked at Bucky, but you couldn't meet his eyes. You knew that he was at the edge, his body trembled a little bit, but he still listened to you and silently jumped up on the free space near the sink.

"Bucky," you said quietly, trying to be as gentle as you could. "I see you right now, and I’m not going anywhere, you hear me?" You put your hand back on his face, making him meet your eyes. Before you could think, you placed your right hand on his chest, causing his eyes to instantly widen in surprise. His skin was very warm and silky, even though there were a lot of scars from different conditions. You gently moved your hand, showing Bucky that you’re not afraid, that you’re not a threat, and that he can trust you. "You're doing well, it’s okay," you said as you started rubbing soothing circles on his shoulder.

You backed off a little, finally picking up all the necessary things, and began to sanitize and then stitch up the wound. Every time you needed to put your hand on your skin, you felt Bucky instantly tense under your touch, but you tried to send him quiet words of encouragement and praise. Bucky was very quiet, not making a sound even when the needle pierced his skin. His face wasn’t in bad condition, and Super Soldier serum almost healed them, so you decided to only sanitize and clean his skin.

"Well, you did a great job, James. I'm proud of you." About twenty minutes later, you finally tied the bandage and began to put everything back in the drawer, but then felt a touch on your arm.

You looked back at Bucky, only to meet tear-filled eyes.

"No one has ever taken care of me in a long time, Y/N." You stepped closer to Bucky again, unconsciously placing your hands on his shoulders. "I feel ashamed of my body. Of that arm. I didn't want you to see those ugly scars. God, this is so pathetic—"

"Don't say that," you interrupted him. "That's not pathetic. I understand how you feel. That you have so many negative thoughts about yourself. But Bucky… God, I don't know how to properly say it." You paused for a moment, considering the words. "You're one of the most amazing people I know. And even if many people in the tower are scared or intimidated by you, for me, you are the sweetest, most caring, and most generous person. You remember every little thing I say, make me coffee and food when I'm too busy, pretend to like those shitty movies that I make you watch with me. I'm so sorry that so many bad things happened to such a good person that you feel unworthy of good things."

Suddenly, strong arms surrounded you, and you realized that Bucky was hugging you with arms wrapping around your waist. He nuzzled up to your neck, and you could feel light sobs. Gently, you entangled your fingers in his hair, massaging the scalp with calming movements.

"I don't deserve you, doll." Bucky pulled back a little, still keeping his hands on your waist. "I wish I could be normal for you. Be who I was back in the 40s. I would’ve asked you out and given you everything that you deserved. But that person is not here any more, and I'm not worthy of you."

He wanted to ask you out on a date? Your heart stopped as soon as the words left his mouth, and you stared at Bucky in surprise. "Bucky—"

"I know…fuck—I shouldn't have said that. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I'm sorry, doll. I didn't mean to mess anything up between us, I promise. I know you don't feel the same— it's okay, really. Just forget about—"

You didn't let Bucky finish by leaning forward and brushing your lips against his. His flesh automatically tangled in the hair at the back of your neck as the metal one tightened his grip on your waist. For the first few seconds, Bucky was in shock, not kissing you back, but just as you wanted to pull away, his lips began to move, taking over you immediately.

It was the best kiss you ever had. He was gentle yet so passionate. There were a lot of unsaid feelings that Bucky kept to himself for too long. All thoughts seemed to have left your head as the feeling of him filled your whole body.

When there was not enough air, you moved away from each other, touching your foreheads with your eyes closed.

"Fuck" was the first thing he said.

"Yeah," you laughed, finally meeting Bucky's eyes. He looked at you with such adoration that you felt butterflies in your stomach. You just noticed how much skin-to-skin contact you had. "Are you okay with that? Doesn't that make you uncomfortable?" You tilted your head as your hands squeezed his shoulders.

"That's... that's weird. I'm not used to that kind of contact," Bucky said, studying your face. "But I trust you, doll. You are the only person I trust completely." You felt him begin to gently run his hand along your back. "I'd like to ask you out on a date. I mean, if you want to. If not, I totally understand—"

You interrupted him again, leaving a quick kiss on his lips. "I'd like to go on a date with you, James. You know, you’re so cute when you’re shy?"

You've never seen his face so lit up with happiness, with a little bit of pink on his cheeks. Butterflies began to beat in your stomach again, and you realized that it was you who made him feel that way.

"Do you want to go to bed, put on some shitty comedy, and grab some food? I still have to watch over your injury."

"Sounds like a perfect plan, doll." Bucky kissed you on the forehead, interlacing his fingers with you, and led you to his room.

Even if it still required a lot of work, cuddling with Bucky, you knew it was the best place you could be.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james bucky barnes #marvel #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky x y/n

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ezdotjpg · 5 months ago

Note

Hi!!! Sorry if you've been asked this before but is it possible for you to summarize the Bonus Links' personalities? Just asking because I'd like to get a general idea, apologies if this is too much of a pain to answer 😭🫶🏻

hey! luckily I already wrote up character intros a while back that I never posted to tumblr lol, so I'll go ahead and post them now! under the cut since this is mega long lol

Loft

Pronouns: he/him

Game: Skyward Sword

Age: 22

Height: 5’3”

Communication: Mainly speaks, signs occasionally

Personality: World’s Nicest Man Pushed To His Limit. It’s his nature to be light-hearted and easy-going, but ever since the events of Skyward Sword he’s been unable to let the implications of Demise’s curse and Zelda’s connection to Hylia go. He’s usually mild, but he’s got a lot of suppressed anger in him that comes out at inopportune times. He tends towards being optimistic, but has lately been caught in a depressive spiral. As a result of all these conflicting emotions, he hasn’t felt like himself in a while. Before everything, he could have been described as a little bit lazy, but these days a better word would be lethargic. He’s got a mischievous and thrill-seeking streak that often surprises people. He knows he’s powerful, but he’s lost some confidence in the years since his quest. He’s wracked with guilt about the way everything ended.

Slate

Pronouns: tends to use he/him, but really any

Game: Breath of the Wild (ignoring TotK for now)

Age: 21

Height: 5’0”

Communication: Mainly signs, speaks occasionally

Personality: The Reviews Are In: Friendly Guy, Vaguely Off-Putting. He knows he’s not pre-calamity Link, but he’s not exactly sure what he is instead. He’s accepted this about himself, and it grinds his gears that other people refuse to. He’s not sure what to do with all these memories inside him that aren’t his, and that he feels nothing for. He’s become more expressive, but when he’s upset his face goes entirely blank. He has a tendency to be distracted, blunt, intense, impulsive, somewhat abrasive. But he’s not unkind, and can even be outright friendly. He’d offer his help to anyone who asks, and he makes it a point to know everyone in Hyrule. He’s happiest out in nature, and doesn’t mind the solitude. He only ever lies by omission, and otherwise says exactly what he means. There’s something a little otherworldly about him.

Mask

Pronouns: he/him

Game: Ocarina of Time, Majora’s Mask

Age: 15

Height: 5’2½”

Communication: Mainly speaks, signs occasionally

Personality: Local Teen Needs Hug So Bad, Will Bite If You Try. He’s prickly, hot-tempered, moody. He’ll pick verbal battles he probably shouldn’t. Everything is a touchy subject. But he’s developed this behavior as a coping mechanism. He’s kind by nature, and it takes effort to lash out. The person he is with Malon- gentle, more soft-spoken, with a good sense of humor and a love for harmless mischief- is a lot closer to the person he’s comfortable being. He’s a scared kid. He feels out of place, both mature and immature, of this world and not. Sometimes, he gets scrambled between Termina, the Hyrule he’s in now, the Hyrule he left behind, and the Hyrule of the war. He has a lot of resentment for both the gods and the royal family, and all he wants is to be left alone.

Wolf

Pronouns: he/him

Game: Twilight Princess

Age: 23

Height: 5’5”

Communication: Mainly speaks, signs occasionally

Personality: Thank God I’m A Country Boy. He’s a gentle soul, probably the gentlest out of all of them. He likes to be useful, and he has made being the problem solver of Ordon Village part of his identity. He’s a bit of a mother hen and likes to take care of people. Midna was good at bringing out a little bit of attitude and snark in him. He’s got a bad case of Resting Bitch Face, but he’s not an angry person. However, he’s had a hard time adjusting to life back in Ordon. He’s usually even-tempered, but lately he’s been irritable and easier to anger. He feels isolated by his experiences, and has been avoiding most of the villagers, including his loved ones, even though it makes him lonely. Mostly he just doesn’t want to take it out on them, but it’s also about his pride. He enjoys the company of animals far more these days. He wants a quiet life, and has been avoiding Zelda's attempts to make "Hero" a political role for him to fill.

War

Pronouns: he/him

Game: Hyrule Warriors

Age: 25

Height: 5’7”

Communication: Mainly speaks, signs occasionally, had Proxi speak for him at one point during the war

Personality: Link “This Is My Jaeger, I Make The Tactical Decisions” Faron. He comes across as a very charming young man, witty, helpful, pleasant in conversation, well-adjusted. In reality, he is constantly doing complicated political 4D chess in his mind at all times, even when it’s not necessary. Many years of being subject to the whims of the Royal Court and pressure to be a perfect symbol have poisoned him: he’s become calculating, manipulative, superficially polite, two-faced. He has to be the one holding all the cards, considering all the variables, fixing all of the problems, because he can’t trust anyone else. If you were to strip him of all pretense, he'd actually be a dry, resigned person, perpetually annoyed with everyone around him. He values status and reputation, and he wants more power than he has. His appearance is important to him because he knows his pretty face is an asset. He holds deep respect for the gods and the mantle of the hero. He has a strong sense of duty, but one that often leads him to justify terrible actions. The ends justify the means.

Mirror

Pronouns: he/they

Game: A Link Between Worlds, Triforce Heroes

Age: 22

Height: 5’1”

Communication: Mainly speaks, signs occasionally

Personality: Local Link Doing Pretty Well Actually, All Things Considered. He’s just living his life, having a mostly pleasant time. He used to be quiet and reserved when he was younger, but has come out of his shell in a big way. He’s a bit vain, and fond of doing things with a dramatic flair. They like to have an audience, they like to make people laugh, they like to have your attention. Rather than being poisoned by court politics, he thrives in them. He doesn’t pretend to be charming, he just is. They can be on the arrogant side. He’s interested in fashion and art more than fighting these days, but still keeps his skills up to date. He pretends the scar on his face doesn’t bother him, but it does. He’s particularly obsessed with the legend of the hero before him.

Mage

Pronouns: he/him

Game: A Link to the Past, Link’s Awakening, Oracle of Ages, Oracle of Seasons

Age: 32

Height: 5’3”

Communication: Mainly speaks, signs occasionally

Personality: Weird Uncle You Just Stopped Hearing From One Day. He’s a difficult guy to get a read on. He comes off as deeply serious, imposing, no-nonsense. He is actually full of nonsense. The fact that no one can tell what is and isn’t part of the bit is part of the bit. He mostly ignores his own problems by dedicating his life to solving other people’s problems. He wanders from place to place, helping people and becoming a bit of a larger than life folk legend in his own right in the process. He’s leaned into learning magic more than the sword, and has built up quite the arsenal of spells. He doesn’t speak often, and is content to let other Links lead despite being the oldest and the most experienced. He’s difficult to rile and even more difficult to get a straight answer out of.

Spirit

Pronouns: he/him

Game: Spirit Tracks

Age: 16

Height: 4’11”

Communication: Mainly signs, speaks occasionally. He has a stutter when he speaks.

Personality: Wants To Be Anywhere But Here, Preferably On A Train. He’s fully given up swordfighting, and basically just wants to go back to being a Royal Engineer like nothing happened. He has no interest in gaining any kind of attention, authority, or power from the mantle of the hero, and would actually prefer that everyone stop looking at him. He’s quiet, sweet-natured and generally non-confrontational, but he’s not afraid to stand up for himself when pushed. It’s just that it’s easier to let Zelda stand up for him instead. He’s pretty mature and in-tune with his emotions for a 16 year old. Seeing spirits everywhere, he has a lot of private thoughts about grief and death that he doesn’t share with anyone. The gears in his brain are constantly turning, and once he’s stuck on an idea, it’s all he can focus on. He often doesn’t give himself enough credit for how capable he is. Please let him tell you about trains.

Mini

Pronouns: he/him

Game: Minish Cap

Age: 14

Height: 4’3”

Communication: Only signs, mute.

Personality: He’s Just A Little Guy, Only 2 Pixels Tall. Mini doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to do. He’s not very expressive in the face, and it can be hard to tell what he’s thinking or feeling. Mostly, he’s a little rascal. He likes to root around in the garbage and build strange little machines from what he finds. He spends a lot of time hanging out with the Minish, moreso than humans. It’s a little bit of an escapism thing. He hasn’t really processed what it meant to become the hero so young, and is actively trying to avoid doing so. He’s very independent, and simply doesn’t compute attempts to coddle him.

Wake

Pronouns: he/him

Game: Wind Waker, Phantom hourglass

Age: 20

Height: 5’5”

Communication: Mainly speaks, signs occasionally

Personality: Everyone’s Favorite Cousin At The Family Function. He’s a fun person to be around. Friendly, energetic, laid back, good-natured, outgoing. He is always up for a good shenanigan. But he can get serious when he needs to, and often plays the important role of mediator in group dynamics. He’s the glue that holds the team together! He seems to take everything in stride, and presents himself as unbothered by the things that have happened to him. Whether that’s actually true, or he’s just compartmentalized everything too well remains to be seen. He has a strange way of being very open, and yet a closed book at the same time. He’s sentimental, and family is important to him

#hope this helps #and that my summaries aren't too rambly #long post #astronomically so probably #all links #bonus lore #bonuslinksdotjpg

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honeysbeebears · 6 months ago

Text

Sleepover Schemes // BKG

Bakugo Katsuki X Reader

In Japan, saying ‘the moon is beautiful’ is a common way to confess one’s feelings of love

Word count: a lot

Warnings: none other than I did not spell check this lol & bakugo might be a little ooc sorry

“Arent sleepovers against the rules?” You look up curiously at the girls surrounding your desk. Right now the class was on a quick break before heading over to the training session. Mina frantically began shushing you “yes! so don’t go saying it out loud like that girl!” You giggle softly “oops”

Uraraka speaks up “it’ll be fun though, we’ll have snacks, face masks, the works!” You nod, looking up at Momo “you mind if i bring makeup? I think a little makeover sesh would be fun too” Momo beams “of course! that sounds lovely” smiling back at her, you give everyone a thumbs up “im in!” the girls exclaim happy cheers before hushing up again once they realized they made a bit of a scene before going back to giggling quietly amongst themselves

In the distance, kirishima is looking over at the group in wonder “hm, wonder what’s got them all worked up” Kaminari, who is standing right next to him shrugs “eh you know them” Bakugo rolls his eyes, not paying any mind to either group before Sero speaks up

“I heard (L/N) say the word ‘sleepover’ though” with that, bakugo is glancing behind him to look at the three boys. They’re obviously up to no good

Kaminari rubs his hands together as if he’s a villain coming up with some elaborate scheme, which is exactly what he was doing “A sleepover huh?” Kirishima and Sero look at him quizzically “dude don’t tell me you-“ Kaminari quickly cuts him off “want to go spy on them?! You betcha!” He gives the boys a thumbs up, kirishima is looking a bit nervous “I dunno man, isn’t that like an invasion of privacy?” Sero nods in agreement, the yellow headed boy smirks once more at his two friends “you know what girls talk about at sleepovers….?” He says, the scheming tone in his voice evident. Bakugo is listening, not like he has a choice while he waits

“Crushes” with that, the look on Sero and Kirishima’s faces change into that of determination, Kaminari knows he’s got them convinced now. Bakugo once again sighs and rolls his eyes

“Don’t you guys want to know who a babe like (L/N) has the hots for?” He throws his arms around the two, looking at the both of them with conniving eyes. At the mention of your name, bakugo freezes as well, making an unwanted grunt that catches the attention of the three boys standing behind him

“Oh looks like Bakubro is interested as well, it’s because i mentioned (F/N) isn’t it?” He teases, Bakugo whips around in his chair “Shut the hell up dunce face” he shouts, his usual angry tone just slightly angrier at the allegation before turning back around, huffing and crossing his arms “Will you be joining us then? Cmon I know even someone like you can’t help but be curious” Before Bakugo can go off again, he looks over at your smiling face, and then imagines the three, in his words, idiots, messing with you and he sinks lower into his chair

“… Fine”

Kirishima looks down at him in shock “no way dude i totally was not expecting that” Bakugo scoffs, slightly embarrassed “I’m only going so you three ass munchers don’t do anything stupid” Kaminari covers his mouth to stifle a giggle “oh dude you’re so down bad you don’t even know it”

“I’ll blast you all the way to hell!”

The girls watch as Kaminari is running around the room, Bakugo chasing after him. Kaminari using the desks as a divider while kirishima and sero are laughing intensely at the scene

“What’s up with those guys?” Jiro questions, eyebrow raised, you shrug “you can never tell with them anymore” you and the other girls watch, entertained while Uraraka and Mina are cheering Kaminari on as he ‘breaks Bakugo’s ankles’ you giggle and join in

“Go get him Kacchan!” Bakugo looks over at you, angrily shouting back “shut your mouth before i blast your dumb ass all the way to hell!”

—

“Oh cmon (F/N) there’s gotta be someone you’re eyeballing i mean look at you” you quirk an eyebrow towards Mina, who’s been bugging you about this ever since you entered Momo’s room “and what’s that supposed to mean?” Mina starts wildly waving her hands around “i mean you’re like smoking hot girl! I didn’t mean it in a bad way” the other girls sitting around you agree in their own ways

You sigh a little, although you weren’t expecting that particular reason “even if i did like anyone I don’t really think it’d be reciprocated, im kind of a klutz” immediately your friends spring into action, showering you with compliments so much that you start to blush. You cover your face in embarrassment at the affection

“Why would you ever even think that? There’s so many dudes pining over you as we speak” Hagakure points out, she’s currently fixing her face mask that Momo had passed out to everyone

You playfully roll your eyes “oh yeah like who?” Thinking you were able to stump them there.

Jiro, who is sitting next to you, side eyes you, not really sure if you were being serious “dude” you whip your head to look at her in a surprised confusion, before you look at the rest of your friends who appear to share the same sentiment, you look at tsuyu, she’s honest right?

“I can name atleast 5 boys right now” the green haired girl points out. You’re simply flabbergasted “What? Who then” you cross your arms. One by one your friends speak in turn

“That boy from the sports festival, Shinso, seems to be quite interested in you after you almost won” Momo starts

“And that boy from 1B, Kaibara, ever since you helped him out at the sports festival he’s been lingering around to get your attention” Tsuyu adds

“Don’t even get me started on Amajiki-senpai, he literally said you reminded him of the sun and admitted you were one of the only people he felt comfortable around, he blushes so much around you im surprised the constant blood rushes haven’t been getting to him ” Jiro says

Your eyes are darting inbetween all of your beloved friends as they quite seriously list off a surprising amount of people, since when were they so observant? You shove your face back into your hands “ok I get it guys..” embarrassed is an understatement

“Oh! And bakugo too!” Uraraka happily points out, as if this was common knowledge, but for you this was the final nail in the coffin before you begin to practically steam out of how flustered you became “I highly doubt that” you managed to squeak out

You thought you were hearing things but you heard a soft thud somewhere in the room, you chose to ignore it

Momo gently strokes your hair, although she still found the predicament quite amusing

Mina finds this exciting, she begins to ponder and think about all of the interactions you’ve had with Bakugo since the beginning of the year

“Oh my god do you guys remember when…”

—

Evidence #1

Something was smelling quite good in the common area, and as everyone began filing down to prepare for the weekend morning they were met with quite the sight

You were baking cinnamon rolls for everyone, as a part of your weekly ritual of baking or cooking for the class. Bakugo happened to have woken up early, came down and found himself chatting to you as if it was a normal thing for him to do

There you were, happily conversing with Bakugo as you were mixing what appeared to be frosting in a bowl. He wasn’t adorned with any sort of scowl, his eyebrows weren’t furrowed and he was silently watching you while listening to whatever story you were telling him, if they didn’t know any better they would’ve thought it was admiration. Of course, upon seeing the two, the usual suspects surrounded them completely disregarding what they stumbled upon, and bakugo was quick to throw angry insults at them

Mina noted the soft expression on his face before the boys had shown up

—

Evidence #2

“Uhm (F/N), do you and Bakugo normally walk to class together?” Upon entering the classroom and walking to your desk, your friends were gathered into their usual group right next to it, you shrug before answering “yeah, for some reason I’ve been managing to catch him just before we enter the building, weird coincidence but i don’t mind it’s pretty nice company, plus when we were kids we’d walk to school together sometimes” your friends deadpan at the last bit ‘bakugo… nice company?’

They all look over to see bakugo arguing with the other guys about some mundane topic, of course he was the most aggressive, yelling and making the usual scene, they simply looked at his comically scowling face before simultaneously thinking ‘not a chance’

Jiro makes a mental note that when she walked into the building, she saw Kirishima run into Bakugo who was standing at the entrance, asking to walk to class together before Bakugo shuts Kirishima down, saying something akin to “Hell no I’m busy!” Kirishima gives him a puzzled look before seeing Kaminari and telling Bakugo he’d see him later

Could it be..?

—

Evidence #3

“I won’t repeat myself asshat, let go of her now” Everyone in the class froze, staying silent, usually he’d be screaming this sort of demand. he was seriously pissed off beyond belief. His eyes pierced into the boy who had his wrapped his arm around your shoulders, Shindo. You awkwardly smile “Bakugo im sure he doesn’t mean any harm-“ before you can finish your sentence you feel something tug on your wrist, ripping you from the black haired boys grasp. You blink in shock, looking up you see Bakugo’s fiery eyes that speak a thousand words, but he only speaks two. “Get lost” his voice absolutely dripping in venom as he slightly tightened his grip he’d laid on your shoulder

Shindo stares back, his eyes narrowing before he throws on a smile “My bad, bro, hey listen im sorry, let’s do our best out there o-“ he holds his hand out to Bakugo to shake, before Bakugo swaps his hand away, turning the both of you around “your words don’t match that expression on your face, i said get lost”

Everyone slowly began to speak amongst themselves again, Bakugo wordlessly handing you over to Kirishima and Mina before spinning around to wander off somewhere else. You simply watch him go, he really was pissed off, mumbling some obscenities. You almost missed the gentle yet tight squeeze he gave your shoulder when he let go.

—

Final Evidence

“Midoriya, you’ve known those two for awhile right?” Mina asks, everyone is currently training, but a small group is sitting by taking a break. Midoriya looks up after taking a drink of water, his eyes land on the two

“I can’t breathe…” you exhale your words, Kirishima is rubbing your back comfortingly as the training gets to you, Bakugo rolls his eyes “you damn lazy shithead you’re never gonna beat me with that lazy ass attitude of yours” You look up at him and glare before smirking, dramatically falling back on kirishima’s chest with your hand on your forehead “I can’t breathe… there’s no room in Kacchan’s EGO, can we go now?!” and just like that, Bakugo is on your ass as you zoom away with your quirk, screaming about how he’s gonna murder you

Midoriya smiles “yep, honestly i cant really imagine what it’d be like without her, she’s been like a middle ground between the two of us ever since junior high, a voice of reason” he has a gentle smile on his face before it drops in an instant and he cringes remembering that time, a chill going up his spine “honestly I don’t think I would’ve survived junior high without her…” before Mina can question that bit he starts to ramble

“Me and (F/N) are best friends, but her and bakugo have this special connection. She’s able to read him like a book, understand him to a level I just can’t. It’s truly fascinating” he looks at Bakugo’s smiling face as he dangles you upside down off a rock formation, of course it’s mostly his usual angry grin but somewhere under there is a genuine smile as you laugh while telling him to put you down

“I’m sure he feels the same way I do, he just has a funny way of showing it”

Mina makes a mental note of this

—

You’re now laid flat on Momo’s bed, each bit of ‘evidence’ making you blush harder and harder, and they just keep going

“And when we were picking vocals for the festival, he refused to be drums unless you sang also, ribbit”

You shoot up, steaming “okayyy guys please stop” Momo looks at you with a pitiful expression “yeah I think she gets the point girls”

Mina still needs to know though

“Okay fine but can you atleast tell us, if you had to pick, who would you date?!” Shes gripping a pillow to her chest in anticipation. You think to yourself once you regain your composure, deep in thought for a moment before taking a deep breath in.

“Shut up” Kirishima whispers, nudging Kaminari as he can tell the boy is absolutely struggling to keep in his laughter, who can blame him though when Bakugo Katsuki himself is blushing from ear to ear from all the information he’s just learned

Boys like you? That many? And how could they know he liked you? He didn’t even know that. There is absolutely no chance in hell he’d ever consider thinking of you that way the thought of it is absurd

Atleast that’s what he told himself

He was about to tell the both of them to shut up before the sound of your timid voice brings him back to reality

“If.. if I had to… I guess it would be..” everyone, including the invading boys, are sweating in anticipation, Bakugo’s palms are slightly damper than usual

“Bakugo..” you finally muster out, barely audible, the girls cheer and clap at your admittance and the boys look at Bakugo’s absolutely shocked expression, they don’t tease though, not right now in such a compromising place

“But it would never happen” for some reason this statement makes him upset, what’s that supposed to mean?

“We both have the ultimate goal of becoming heroes, and we both can’t afford to become distracted with romance, plus I really don’t think he’d ever see me that way, he sees me as an annoying little kid who’s been sticking around since diapers” you laugh, albeit pitifully, at the end of your sentence, the girls don’t know what to say or how to comfort you, they know you know him better than anyone, so if you say it then it’s probably true

Probably

Mina gives her a big hug “aw im sorry for making you sad” you give her a gentle squeeze back “im not upset, don’t worry about it” she holds your shoulders and smiles before deciding on what you all were gonna do next

“How about we sneak over to 7 eleven, I bet we’re dying for some snacks right now” Uraraka shoots up “yes please!”

And just like that the energy in the room is back to its happy self, you giggling and nodding in agreement

As the group of you all put on your shoes, you ask Momo if you can borrow a hoodie from her closet

The closet, uh oh

The boys are frantically looking at each other, whispering ‘what do we do?!’ over and over, absolutely panicking

Internally, Bakugo is freaking out the most. What would he even do if you find out he heard everything you said? Would things be the same? Not that he cares.

They watch you come over to the closet, bracing, preparing for the worst as you begin to open the door

You softly swing the closet door open, and immediately the sight leaves you frozen in place

In front of you, on the floor of the closet are the boys, and Bakugo, and he’s looking at you with this angrily embarrassed look on his face, cheeks flushed. You blink and feel your cheeks heat up, spinning your head around as Momo asks what’s taking you so long, you look back at the boys, pleading with you with their eyes. You glare at the group of them before shutting the door in their face , telling momo you changed your mind on the hoodie

Relief was an understatement as the door to the dorm shuts and locks, the boys all loosen up as they give out a sigh, sinking to the wall and floor

“I thought we were goners for sure there!” Sero says, still terrified “luckily (F/N) is so cool, if it were anyone else we’d be dead for sure” Kirishima adds

Bakugo feels his phone buzz, he pulls it out to see a message and he freezes

(F/N): you guys better be out of there by the time we come back, I mean it.

He opens the closet door, and gets up “let’s get the fuck out of here, im never doing that shit again you fuckers” this time the boys don’t argue, and they all scurry out of the room, Bakugo says nothing as they go back to their respective rooms, and the boys decide not to push their luck tonight

By the time you return, snacks in hand, you look to the closet before walking over to open it again. ‘Empty. Good’ you thought. Atleast they listened to you, you were ready to rip them a new one if they decided to stick around after you gave them a saving grace

Momo asks what you’re doing, you say you’re admiring her clothes before asking what movie they picked to watch

—

After that, neither you nor bakugo had spoken a word to each other. For over a week the atmosphere in the classroom is thick with tension, Midoriya is the first to point it out to you while you’re hanging out in his dorm

“Uh.. (F/N)?” He looks up from the controller in his hand, the ‘victory player 1’ text on the screen on the TV blinking at him

You come down from your winning grin “yes Izuku?” He fiddles with the buttons before finally asking

“What’s up with you and Kacchan?” You are speechless, he noticed? Of course he noticed he’s Izuku.

You sigh, sinking into his bed, back against the wall it’s connected to “no point in lying to you huh?” Izuku gives a light laugh “after all this time, no” he looks at you expectantly

Putting down the controller you turn your head to look at him

“I think.. im in love with kacchan” hearing you admit it out loud after all this time was surreal, you thought it was something you’d take to the grave.

Izuku is shocked, of course, he never imagined his two childhood friends would catch feelings towards each other. He’s also used to you being the one giving him comfort or reassurance. He’s not very experienced in the romance department as is, so he’s not sure what to say to you about that. But he does know you like the back of his hand. You give him the same reason you give the girls as to why you’re never gonna tell him. You also tell him he heard everything.

“Wow that must’ve been super embarrassing..” he says, you face palm “I know! I can’t bring myself to look at him, and honestly the fact that he won’t look at me says something too..” you say, dejectedly. Izuku puts his hand on your shoulder, giving you a gentle smile “listen, im not the best with romance n all, but from what I know about the two of you, I think it’s best to just talk it out. You two don’t have to date, but maybe it’ll do the both of you good to get some sort of closure..” the look on your face is hard to read, he guesses you’re taking all of this in “id really hate to see you two drift apart over something like this, after everything we’ve all been through together.. plus I think you’d be surprised over what he has to say”

For some reason, you start to tear up, his words really got to you.

You missed bakugo, and you really didn’t want to lose him

“Is it really worth a try?” You mutter, looking down at your hands, Izuku puts his own hand on top of yours, making you look up back at him “it’s better to try than to not try at all”

—

Back in your dorm, you stare at your phone as if it’ll start moving on its own

You angrily sigh, snatching it up before finally writing the text you’ve been thinking about sending

(F/N): Hi

Bakugo: what do you want?

Ouch, for some reason that hurts a little after not talking in so long. You know not to take it too seriously though, you’re just glad he replied so fast

Bakugo is also mentally smacking himself for saying something like that right off the bat

(F/N): I was just wondering…

(F/N): Can we talk?

The boy stares at the message, of course he does, the awkward silence that’s been going on between the two of you has been miserable even if he didn’t want to admit it. He scoffs, finally deciding to reply after a few minutes

Bakugo: Ok

(F/N): okay! you want me to go to yours?

Bakugo: That’s fine

Bakugo: Actually, meet me on the roof in 10

Bakugo throws his phone down. He shoves his face into his pillow, screaming

He had no idea what to expect

Heading up to the rooftop, he’s surprised to find you there waiting for him first. He stands there for a moment, watching your hair flow in the gentle night breeze. You’re holding your knees up to your chest, shivering. You were cold

He scoffs, shrugging off his zip up hoodie

You’re shocked when a soft, warm fabric drapes your shoulders. Looking up, Bakugo is looking away from you “dumbass, you didn’t bring a sweater? if it weren’t for me you’d freeze to death” you giggle, exceedingly happy to finally hear him speak to you again

“Hello to you too” he ignores your greeting, taking a seat next to you to enjoy the view as well

“What’s wrong with you?” He speaks up after an uncomfortable few minutes of silence, you sit up straight “Me?! What’s wrong with you?!” Bakugo’s eyebrows furrowed and he shouts back “there’s nothing wrong with me idiot!” He turns to glare at you but he’s surprised when his eyes are met with your smiling face. He looks away “the hell you smiling for weirdo?” You notice the pink tint on the tip of his ears

“I guess.. I just missed you” now it’s his turn to sit up straight, he feels chills run up his body but he equates it to the coldness of the night

He says nothing at first, before looking back at you. You’re now looking up at the sky, a content look on your face. Your eyes are sparkling, and your skin is glowing. He shakes his head, not wanting to think of anything like that before you break the silence again

“the moon sure is beautiful, hm?”

Damnit. Once again, bakugo is speechless. Did you really say that?

He’s brought back to a moment in grade school

~~~

“I’m gonna confess to the person I love just like that!” You point at the movie the two of you decided to watch, bakugo looks at you in disgust “ew I did not need to know that you freak” you pout “come on wouldn’t it be so sweet?!” He shoves your face away from his as you swoon “whatever just get off me” you pout once again

~~~

He’s brought back to reality by the way you turn to look at him once more. This look in your eyes makes him feel uneasy, unfamiliar, but he can’t look away.

“yeah.. I guess”

Your eyes sparkle, you look back up up to the sky before mustering up the courage

You grab his hand that’s next to yours

He doesn’t do anything, he stays there, still as a rock before you speak up again

“I know you heard what me and the girls said that night” he meets your gaze, and you’re giving him a serious look that almost freaks him out but he lets you continue

“I didn’t want that to change our friendship, but I guess I was too scared that you’d hate me-“

“In what world would I hate you?”

His voice is so soft it makes your heart beat skip, and now it’s your turn to be freaked out about the serious look in his eyes

“Well I- uh. You see-!” You slap yourself, bakugo is taken aback and is about to question you until you finally say what you’ve been wanting to say for years

“Bakugo Katsuki, Im in love with you!”

There it is. That determined look in your eyes that the boy has never gotten sick of, your breathing is heavy and you’re avoiding eye contact at all costs, but you did it. You fucking said it

“I realized it after we stopped talking, I mean how stupid and cliche is that huh? You never know what you have until it’s gone? God what’s wrong with me, I just needed to tell you because it’s better to try you know?! I don’t wanna fuck up what we have, I mean shit it’s been so long you know. God I ruin everything I’m sorry forget I-“

“Stop talking, you sound like that stupid Deku, god you need to stop hanging around him so much”

You freeze up. You peek a glance to bakugo, he’s kept the same serious look on his face

“You didn’t even give me a chance to reply, dumbass”

His grip on your hand tightens, and he intertwines his fingers with yours. You stop breathing

“I don’t know shit about.. love.. or whatever, I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me, I can’t place it but the way you.. god, ugh..” he grits his teeth, his cheeks tainted pink, eyebrows furrowed and clearly angry but embarrassed

“God damn it (F/N) you drive me fucking crazy! It feels fucking stupid to just call it some dumb shit like love, it’s like you’re messing with my head all the time, I don’t fucking understand these.. these.. shit! you-” he meets your gaze, and his own softens

“I just can’t.. lose you, yknow?”

So he feels the same way you do, then. you lean your head on his shoulder, and he doesn’t back away

“You’d never lose me, Katsuki” the use of his first name makes his stomach flip. He wants to stay like this

He wants more moments like this

“We.. we don’t have to rush things, and I won’t force you to share your feelings with me, I think that’s something you should figure out on your own” he scoffs, he doesn’t need to figure shit out

“(F/N)” he says your name matter of factly, you lift your head to look up at him before you feel something soft on your lips

Your eyes go wide, you stiffen up until his hand grazes your cheek gently. As if he was scared you’d break under his touch. You shut your eyes, trying to relax into the kiss

Shakily, you snake your arms around his neck, and he deepens his embrace

Passion, fear, so many emotions and words that could never be said were being spoken through this moment. Everything he’s wanted to say to you, you could feel through the way his lips enveloped your own, the way he gently caressed your back in a comforting manner. All of his feelings, you understood

He’s the one who separates first, you’re left in a daze as he avoids your eyes once more

“That’s all you’re getting out of me, don’t expect more” you giggle, making bakugo look back at you

“Don’t fucking laugh at me you little-“

“Bakugo” he stops, looking at you skeptically, you smile back at him “from now on.. let’s just be us, no more holding back, no more secrets” you tilt your head at him, the gesture makes his own heart skip a beat and his palms are sweatier than usual

“Y-yeah.. whatever I don’t fucking care”

He gives your hand a squeeze “one day, when im number one,..” his red eyes pierce your own “I’ll make you mine, you got that?” You nod, a little flustered at his declaration before gathering up even more courage than before

“What’re you-“ you cut him off with a kiss to the cheek, then a kiss to the forehead, bakugo is getting increasingly more red by each kiss you place on his face and you back away to look at him. he’s got that same scowl on his face that’s a touch softer “the hell was that-“ you cut him off again with a kiss to the lips once more

This time, hes the one who’s frozen in shock, you cup his cheek in your hand, deepening the kiss slightly before you break it. Bakugo almost wants to pull you in for more but all he can give you is a blank expression as you whisper in his ear

“I’m already yours”

He can’t even muster up any words before you’re standing up, pretending like your face isn’t on fire . “Okay! Let’s head inside it’s getting too cold, how about I make us some tea yeah?” He just watches intently as you make your way to the door before following you, wordlessly he grabs your hand as you continue your speech about the different types of teas and what he’d like. You smile when he grabs your hand again, and he smiles when you squeeze his gently

…

“Aw man I lost!” When the door shuts, 4 people emerge from various hiding spots amongst the roof

Mina saunters over to the three boys before holding out her hand “pay up losers” she sings to them, begrudgingly the three place several yen dollars into her hand

You were the one to confess first, after all, looks like her and Kaminari’s sleepover plan worked

~~~

“I’m glad you and kacchan are back to normal, (f/n)” at lunch, about two weeks after the roof incident, you’re sitting with midoriya, you give him a happy look, nodding “yep! better than ever me and him” you can’t stop the blush from forming on your face, you’re saved by a familiar voice

“Oi (F/N)” you look up and grin, he stands there with his scowl. Usually, you’d get up and follow him to eat lunch alone together, but this time you decided otherwise

“Let’s sit here today Katsuki!” You beam at him, he wants to argue with you but he decides it’s not worth it, he groans before pouting as he plops in the seat next to you, you smile “wow, no yelling today bakubro?” Kirishima smirks at bakugo, before Bakugo can retort, Kaminari, unfortunately, starts up again

“You two sure are close nowadays~” Bakugo glares daggers at Kaminari “mind your business you rat” his fist slams the table. under the table, you feel his hand take yours, entwining your fingers “nothings fuckin changed” he mutters. you glance at him, smiling as he begins to eat his food

The conversations moves forward, and throughout Bakugo, or you, have yet to let go of the others hand, like it’s naturally this way as you speak amongst your friends

‘Yeah…’ you think to yourself, stealing glances , admiring his crimson red eyes, his spiky blonde hair, and the way he sends quick retorts back to your other classmates when they annoy him

He glances at you, admiring your infectious laugh, your soft hair, your glowing aura, you

Yeah, nothings changed

End

____

Sorry about spelling mistakes I did not realize this would be this long, I thought of the sleepover thing and thought it would be funny and then boom it spiraled out of control

Hope you enjoyed! This is my first time posting a oneshot here so im kinda nervous pls be nice to me ;-;

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha #mha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugo katuski x reader

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