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featherymalignancy · 4 years

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PART TWO — The Eyes of Texas: A Rowaelin Origin Story 🏐 🍺 ♥️

Long before Cash and Nesta, there was Rowan and Aelin.

Rowan Whitethorn—a Navel academy graduate and recently discharged second lieutenant from the United States Navy—takes a break from studying of the police academy exam in Los Angeles to fly back to his native Hawaii and compete in a twos volleyball tournament with his ex, one of the best sand players on the amateur circuit.

Beyond Remy’s devious machinations to win Rowan back, the biggest impediment to victory is the so-called Ashryver twins, a pair of cousins from Miami with a reputation of their own. Rowan can’t help but admire the gorgeous and sharp-tongued Aelin Galathynius, who’s more than ready to give Remy a run for her money—both on the court and in the race for Rowan’s affection.

This takes place in the same AU-verse as my Nessian story In Vino Veritas, about four years before.

This a two-shot, you can find PART I here.

The Eyes of Texas, PART TWO

By midnight, Rowan knew he was in deep shit.

They’d migrated to another bar by that time, Aelin practically in his lap as they traded stories about college and their friends. Rowan found himself caught between despair and delight as he listened to Aelin speak, unsure if he should be reveling in the attention from a woman of her caliber, or fretting that it couldn’t last.

It wasn’t just that Aelin was beautiful, though he was admittedly so mesmerized by those blue eyes and that dazzling smile that he had to actively avoid staring.

She was funny, too.

And not “when a sexy woman makes a joke you feel oddly compelled to laugh” type of funny, either.

She was fucking hilarious.

She’d had him in stitches earlier with a story about getting the business-end of her grandmother’s chancla after she’d gone to Easter mass with blue teeth from her candy basket, and he’d hardly stopped laughing since.

Rowan had always been a somewhat serious person—even more so after Lyria’s death—but Aelin made him feel...younger. Lighter. And he might have felt guilty for that, except he’d had the oddest sensation throughout the evening that Lyria was there, laughing alongside him.

And—as if gorgeous and hysterical weren’t enough—Aelin was also incredibly bright. Despite the rigors of her volleyball schedule, she was a neuroscience and psychology double major, with plans to attend medical school and become a psychiatrist when she graduated.

It was an answer that Rowan hadn’t expected when he’d asked what she was studying, but somehow it suited her. The ambition, the focus—it explained in part why she was such an incredible athlete. Rowan knew better than anyone that it took more that height and muscles to be a success in the sport, and even among the juggernauts who’d completed in the tournament, Aelin had been in a class of her own.

She’d grown oddly bashful when he’d pressed her about her volleyball career, at which point she admitted she’d held off med school applications to accept a place on the AVP tour.

“They’ve offered you a spot?” Rowan’d asked.

Aelin’s cheeks had gone slightly pink.

“They called after the tournament,” she’d said. “A scout was there to watch me play.”

“Aelin, that’s incredible.”

At this Aelin’s smile had relaxed into something sensuous that had made Rowan’s stomach tighten.

“Couldn’t have done it without, guapo. ”

Now as Ro sat twirling the tail of Aelin’s braid around a tattooed finger, he tried to remind himself that he needed to shut all these bright and shiny feelings down. Aelin had been a danger to the comfortable numbness Rowan had been living in since the moment she stepped onto the sand of that volleyball court. Now, having heard her laugh and flirt and speak Spanish, she’d become lethal.

He told himself that if he was smart, he’d kiss her cheek right now and tell her goodnight. It would probably take him several days to extract her from pleasant place she’d settled under his skin, but he could stop the bleeding now. If he was smart, he most definitely would not sleep with her.

But apparently he wasn’t smart, because when she’d slyly tugged him to his feet and coaxed him into one of the private closets marked “For Staff Only”, he didn’t stop her.

He also didn’t stop her when she kissed him, tongue sliding effortlessly into his mouth and she hands tracked under his shirt.

It was a bad idea to want Aelin Ashryvver-Galathynius the way Ro did, but he found as her hands continued their exploration that he didn’t care. Even if he could only have her for one night, he would make it enough.

“Your body is insane,” Aelin breathed, tracing the ridges of his abs in a way that made him shudder.

He couldn’t help the self-satisfied smirk which tugged at his mouth as he kissed her again.

“You haven’t seen anything yet.”

At this Aelin paused to laugh, eyes sparkling with wicked delight.

“Was that a big dick comment?” She said. “I knew you had it in you, Whitethorn.”

Rowan debated going for the obvious joke about having ‘it’ in her soon before quickly deciding against it. He was tipsy; it didn’t mean he had to be a jackass, too.

“Let’s go, you little troublemaker,” Ro said, reaching for the door which led from the closet to the secluded hallway.

Aelin’s answering grin was staggering in its seductive force. She casually leaned against the door, blocking his exit as she pulled him towards her by the beltloops.

“Why, are you afraid of getting caught?”

He grabbed the hand that was attempting to slip into his pants, pinning it over her head and bowing into her so she could feel how hard he already was.

“No. But the kind of sex I want, you can’t give me here.”

This seemed to stun her into aroused silence, and he reveled in the victory of rendering Aelin Galathynius speechless. However, she recovered quickly, leaning in to nip his lip.

“Fair warning: I’m not easily impressed.”

Her wrists still caught in his grip, he bent to whisper in her ear, grinding a little against her as he did so.

“So you say, but I’m going to guess you’ve only ever been with boys, Aelin. You may not realize it, but I don’t think you have any idea how good sex can actually be.”

Her legs went slightly weak at that, and he slid his knee between her thighs to keep her upright.

“And you’re going to show me?” She asked.

All the things he wanted to do to her flashed in his mind, and Rowan had to fend off a groan as he hardened further. Much more of this and they would end up doing it in this closet.

“I am,” he replied simply.

Aelin’s answering laugh was husky.

“How are you the same guy who didn’t have the cojones to ask for my number this afternoon?”

He recognized the gesture for what it was: an attempt to gain back the upper hand in their continued tug-of-war for dominance.

Turned on by her bravura, he let her, adding with a shrug, “I guess I’m more of a ‘lady in the streets’ type.”

Still, unwilling to cede to her completely he shifted his thigh where it was still nestled between her legs. She moaned a little, moving against him almost involuntarily to get the friction she needed.

Despite the desire for privacy enough to make Aelin scream herself hoarse, Ro found the idea of her rubbing one out on him too hot to resist. Rotating his knee, he pushed up until she was practically riding his thigh.

Aelin’s nails dug into his forearm as the seam of her shorts hit the exact right spot. He increased the pressure, and she moaned again, the sound growing more fractured as he snapped open one her overall straps and squeezed her firm breast over the lace. God, her tits were perfect.

“Stop or I’m going to come,” she said, teeth gritted.

Rowan didn’t bother to fend off a self-satisfied smile.

“You’re this easy to set off, Galathynius?” He laughed softly. “God, the things I’m gonna fucking to do to you.”

“I thought you said we weren’t going to bang here.”

“We aren’t,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t have an orgasm.”

“You seriously want my first one with you to be while I’m fully clothed?”

He glanced up to meet her overcome blue eyes.

“I just want to show you how many different ways I have to make you scream, Aelin.”

Taking a fistful of the denim jumper, he tugged up roughly until the fabric was splitting her. Even though all her clothes he could see what a gorgeous little pussy she had. The realization he’d soon be inside of her made Ro’s cock ache.

“Fuck,” Aelin said, hips canting forward as he used the back-and-forth friction to drag her closer to release. “This is not how I imagined things going when I brought you in here.”

Rowan kissed her neck.

“Better or worse?”

“Better,” she said. “So much better. Mierda .”

Her body tightened then relaxed slightly against him, and were he inside of her, he knew she’d be clenching around him right now.

“You have a gorgeous come face,” he told her honestly.

“I bet you do, too.”

He couldn’t fight a grin.

“Would you like to find out?”

“Yes please. ”

He pressed forward to kiss her again, their tongues tangling as he breathed, “let’s get out of here.”

Needing no further prompting, Aelin reached behind her to twist open the door before slipping out, Rowan behind her.

Taking his hand, she tugged him towards the exit, her phone already out with a map pulled up.

“Where are we headed?” He asked. “I might be able to help.”

Aelin’s answering smile was cryptic.

“It’s not far. The app is saying a 17-minute walk. Hang on.”

With this she dialed a number before bringing the phone to her ear. Whoever she was calling—one of her cousins, Ro suspected—picked up on the second ring, and she began giving orders in rapid Spanish. After a minute she hung up, flashing Ro a simpering smile as she batted her lashes.

“Shall we?”

Rowan couldn’t fight a laugh.

“Did you just kick your cousins out of the room?”

“Suite,” she said with a growing smirk. “But who’s counting?”

“You didn’t have to do that,” he said. “We could have made it work.”

Her gaze heated, burning hot enough that Ro felt his cock stirring again. He watched as her fingers nimbly went to one of the long braids hanging over her shoulder, deftly undoing the plait.

“We don’t need an audience for all the filthy things I want you to do to me.”

He groaned.

“You’re killing me.”

She smiled, working the other braid free and giving her curtain of blonde hair a shake. Christ, he wanted to run his hands though it, then bunch in it his hands while he fucked that pretty little mouth.

She smirked as if she knew what he was thinking, even biting her lip a little in suggestion.

“Something wrong?” She said.

He only laughed.

“Completely the opposite.”

She smiled, tugging him down the street for ten blocks or so before making a left and heading towards a glittering glass building.

The Ritz Carlton.

Rowan let out a low whistle as they entered the marble lobby.

“You keeping secrets, Galathynius?”

She bit her lip.

“My dad is...not poor.”

“Define ‘not poor’.”

“He owns twenty-three luxury hotels in Miami?”

Rowan’s throat felt a bit scratchy.

“You’re a millionaire.”

Her grin was sheepish and slightly guilty.

“Kinda?”

He must have looked confused.

“I mean, yeah, with a b.”

Holy shit, her family were billionaires.

She studied him for a moment when he stopped walking, trying to take it all in. He wasn’t usually one to be embarrassed about money or his upbringing, but she was stupid rich. He suddenly felt out of his depth.

“This is why I didn’t tell you,” she said quietly. “It makes people see me differently.”

At this he glanced up, reading the sadness and loneliness in her eyes.

“It doesn’t change anything,” he found himself saying.

Dating a girl that rich, especially as a cop in Vice Squad—that could be complicated. But that’s not what this was; after tonight, Ro would likely never see her again. Besides, she’d made an effort not to make it a big deal, and hadn’t thrown money around to impress him even when she easily could have. If she could set it aside for the evening, so could he.

Also, he really wanted to fuck her. She was a girl begging for pleasure, and he wanted to be able to show her things she hadn’t experienced even in her wildest fantasies.

Aelin seemed to read the acceptance in his eyes because she tugged him towards the elevator, punching 36 before pushing him against the wall to kiss him. Sliding his hands down her thighs, he hoisted her easily into his arm, crushing her against him.

When the door opened he didn’t bother putting her down, simply breathed against her mouth, “where?”

She gestured to the left and he headed towards the single door at the end of the hall. Producing a key from her back pocket, she slid to her feet before unlocking the door and ushering him inside.

Ro told himself not to gawk as they stepped farther into the palatial space, but it was impossible.

The lavishly-appointed suite was furnished with a living room, full kitchen, bedroom, and formal dining area, floor-to-ceiling window along the far wall looking out onto the Pacific Ocean.

There was a bottle of expensive Cuban rum and several glasses sitting on the marble island, half-smoked Monte Cristo cigars resting in a nearby tray. The Ashryvvers, it seemed, were no strangers to the finer things in life.

“Do you want a drink?” Aelin asked, trailing a hand down his back and observing him as he took in their surroundings.

He turned to her to say yes, but when he caught sight of the heat in her gaze he changed him mind.

“Later,” he said, walking her backwards into the wall closest to the bedroom.

“Thank god,” she said as he threaded a hand through hers to pull her arm above her head. “I don’t think I could bear to wait.”

Rowan chuckled, teeth grazing her ear as he said, “Does that mean you’re going to be a good girl and do as I say?”

Her blue eyes snapped to him, blazing with defiance.

“What makes you think I’m that type of girl?”

“In your everyday life, you like to be in control?”

“Yes.”

Rowan nodded.

“That’s why.”

“I don’t follow.”

“You’re used to responsibility and keeping all the plates spinning, but I bet deep down, you fantasize about being able to let go; you just don’t know how.”

She scoffed, through the sound turned to a breathy exhale as he kissed her neck.

“And what makes you think that I’ll be able to let go with you, a total stranger?”

He pulled back, kissing her softly on the lips.

“Because I am going to make you feel so good and so safe, you won’t have a choice. Do you trust me, Aelin?”

“I have no real reason to,” she hedged. “We just met.”

“But...” he said onto the sensitive skin of her throat.

She paused, muscles in her neck gorgeously taut as he tugged her earlobe with his teeth.

“Díos ayúdame,” she choked out. “Yes, I do.”

“Good girl,” he praised. “Let’s get you naked.”

Throwing the overall strap he’d previously unbuckled over her shoulder, he unsnapped the other. He knelt as he coaxed the whole garment down her hips, pausing to lave her tattoo. He resisted the urge to venture between her legs, enjoying the way she bucked her hips towards the heat of his mouth as it pressed against her low belly.

“Patience,” he said, nipping the sensitive skin.

She settled slightly at that, and Ro ran his hands up her torso with with deliberate slowness, palms skating effortlessly under her lacy bralette and tugging it off in a single, fluid gesture.

He glanced down at her and groaned.

“Fucking Christ.”

Her breasts were flawlessly round and dark enough to suggest she spend a decent amount of time tanning topless, her tight nipples framed by matching diamond studs. He ran a finger over the jewelry, laughing at her shudder of pleasure.

“Are you crazy, Galathynius? You’re a D1 athlete!”

She chuckled.

“I tape them up to play. Why, you don’t like?”

He glanced up to meet her gaze.

“I didn’t say that.”

The truth was they suited her: elegant femininity edged in wildness.

“You approve then.”

He reached down to tease her, brushing a knuckle against her left nipple until it pebbled.

“They’re gorgeous.”

Aelin preened a bit at that.

“Tits this nice deserved a little something extra,” she said with a smirk.

Rowan was inclined to agree.

“These real diamonds, princess?”

“They were a gift from Aedion.”

At this Rowan stiffened, unable to smother the discomfort the idea inspired. Aelin only laughed, catching his face in her hands and kissing him lightly on the lips.

“I’m playing with you, tonto. Obviously he and Galen don’t know about these or they’d hit the roof. Besides,” she said, pert nose wrinkling slightly. “We don’t share things like that with each other. We’re close but...not that close.”

Rowan couldn’t hold back a relieved laugh, which only made Aelin’s grin widen.

“You should have seen the look on your face, though.”

“You’re trouble,” he told her.

“You love it,” she shot back, leaning in so her breasts brushed his chest.

Yeah he fucking did.

Crushing her into another kiss, her massaged her breasts, palms scraping her nipples. When they’d grown hard from his machinations he bent to taste them, loving the feel of her fingers as they wound into his hair and tugged.

“Take off your clothes already,” she said, breathless. “I want to know if your dick is as big as it feels.”

He grabbed her wrist and guided it between his legs.

“See for yourself.”

Deft as a snake, she had a hand down the front of boxer briefs, stroking him twice with a firm grip.

He planted a hand on the wall beside her head, breathing through his nose as he bowed into her wicked touch.

“What are you thinking about?” She asked as she unbuckled his belt and pushed his chinos off his carved waist until they hung low on his hips.

“You.”

“What about me?”

He bent to kiss her deeply again. God, he wasn’t sure he’d ever been this turned on.

“About what you’d look like on your knees with my cock in your mouth.”

She gave a sensuous chuckle.

“Dream on, querido. ”

He only grinned in response.

“No one likes a liar, Galathynius.”

“What reason would I have to ever suck you off?”

“The same reason you’d let me tie you up: you want to know what it’s like to let someone else be in control.”

“I never said I wanted to be tied up,” she said, voice turning to a groan as he pushed her underwear aside to dip two fingers inside of her.

“You didn’t have to,” he said, holding up his fingers so they glistened in the moonlight pouring in from the open balcony doors. “You’re soaked.”

She didn’t respond, merely leaned forward to licked the offending digits clean in a way that told him that not only did she want to suck his dick, she was going to be excellent at it.

He hardened at the thought, even as he forced a calming breath. If this was his only chance with her, he intended to savor every second.

He wanted tears— actual tears—of pleasure from her. He wanted to hear her beg. And not just some breathy “ please, more ” bullshit, either. He wanted to her to plead—for him, for release, for anything and everything he was willing to give her.

He wanted all of it and more, but to have it, he needed to be patient with her. It meant going slow, and sending her off the edge several times before he ever slipped inside of her.

Gently collaring her throat, he pressed a soft kiss to her lips before easing her off the wall and into the waiting bedroom.

“You are so beautiful,” he told her.

She smirked, eyes flashing.

“Bet you say that to all the girls you fuck.”

“I’ve never fucked a woman as beautiful as you.”

It was out before he could stop it, and he had to fend off the the twinge of guilt it produced. Still, he couldn’t regret saying it, because it was true; Aelin was the most beautiful woman he’d ever met.

Aelin, seeming abashed by this declaration, responding by coaxing Rowan’s buttoned shirt open and over his shoulders. Chest to bare chest, her next kiss was soft and drugging.

“You’re...not ugly, either,” she said at last.

“Not ugly?” He repeated with a laugh.

“You’re...” she trailed off as he kissed her neck.

“I’m...?”

“Gorgeous,” she said finally. “But I think you already knew that.”

“Maybe, but it hits different from you.”

Aelin seemed pleased by that, and she rewarded him by dipping her hand into his unbuckled pants again and fisting him.

“I was also right; you’re enormous.”

Grabbing her wrist, he pinned it to the wall and put his hand between her legs instead.

“And I bet you’re tight,” he said, drawing lazy circles with his thumb that had her back arching.

“Are we going to fit?” She teased, but he could hear the concern underneath that she couldn’t quite hide.

The idea that some douchebag had pushed into her before she was totally ready—it made Rowan’s skin prickle in irritation.

He caught her jaw.

“After I’m done playing with you, Aelin, you’re going to be so wet that you’ll feel like my cock was made to fit inside you.”

She moaned.

“If you’re half as good as sex as you are dirty talk, I think this might be the best night of my life.”

Rowan was counting on it. What he hadn’t counted on was the fact it was shaping up to be one of the best nights of his as well. And not just because of the sex, though Rowan couldn’t deal with that right now.

“I bet you taste good too,” he said, grinding against her and living for her answering moan. “Don’t you?”

“I’ve never had any complaints,” she said, and he tried to ignore the twinge of jealousy at the thought of another guy’s mouth on her.

Her pussy was his, at least for tonight. He intended to make sure she never forgot how it felt to have him between her thighs.

Kneeling at her feet, he peeled her thong down her lean legs. He let his eyes drag up slowly, taking his time admiring the muscles in her quads before his gaze settled between her legs.

She was already wet, her thighs glistening with arousal. He imagined what they would look like dripping with his come instead. The idea had masculine satisfaction thrumming through him, even knowing it was a fantasy he couldn’t indulge. He wouldn’t put her in a vulnerable position by not wearing a condom. Pressing a mockingly chaste kiss on her low belly, he rose to his feet.

“Get on the bed,” he said, guiding her hips towards the waiting mattress.

“Get naked first,” she countered, tracing the band of his Adonis belt before tugging him towards her by the waistband of his Calvin Klein boxer briefs.

He didn’t stop her as she skated her hands down the back to squeeze his ass before pushing them off his hips.

His dick was already rock hard, and it pressed between them. She leaned up to kiss him again before sinking down to sit on the bed. The movement bought her eye-level with his erection, and gripping him in a fist, she put her mouth on him.

He swore as she laved his length, cock twitching as she traced a ridge of vein with her tongue. Threading a gentle hand into her hair, he took a step back, coaxing her off the bed and onto her knees. When she looked up at him, blue eyes overcome with want, he had to fight the urge to come right then.

Despite her earlier declarations, Aelin sucked him off like both of their lives depended on it, and Rowan could only hang on and enjoy the ride as her tongue worked miracles on his shaft and her hands found every pleasure point he craved.

He swore again as she massaged his stones before kneading the sensitive swath of skin behind them. As her touch grew more deliberate, he debated telling her she could push inside him before deciding it wasn’t exactly fodder for a one-night stand.

However, when her fingers trailed back to brush the tight ring of muscle, he couldn’t fight a groan.

“Yes?” She asked, keeping her touch light.

“Go ahead,” he said, breathless.

He didn’t think he’d never been so close to losing it as he was the moment she used her own wetness to coat her fingers before carefully teasing two inside of him.

His tattooed hand tightened in her hair, but he forced himself to otherwise remain still, to let her set the pace.

“Fuck, Aelin.”

Crooking her fingers to hit that perfect internal spot, she put her mouth on him again. Between her fingers and her tongue, he only lasted ten more strokes before he came hard .

Holy shit.

Rowan was no stranger to anything they’d just done, but he was fairly sure that was the best blowjob he’d ever had.

“As good as your imagined?” Aelin said with a smirk.

“Better,” Rowan said. “Way better. My turn.”

Picking her up, he tossed her on the bed before grabbing her ankle and dragging her towards him so her legs hung off the edge.

Wasting no time, he broke her legs apart and put his mouth right where he knew she needed him, sucking hard. However, he didn’t stay there for long, ignoring her attempts to manuever his mouth into position as he teased her.

“Rowan,” she choked. “You’re killing me.”

In answer he swirled his tongue around her bundle of nerves before alighting elsewhere.

“Rowan,” Aelin said.

He sucked on her this time, loving how she rocked her hips up to fuck his face. Still, he didn’t linger long enough for her release to find her.

“I’m going to kill—“

He glanced up at her, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the crease of her hip as she watched him.

“Beg me, Aelin,” he told her. “Beg me and I’ll give you an orgasm to make you cry.”

He laced her once, and she bucked.

“I don’t beg,” she said, even as he felt her contract once against his tongue.

The idea was turning her on.

“You haven’t begged before,” he corrected. “It doesn’t mean you won’t for me.”

At this he slid a finger inside of her, finding the right spot and applying pressure.

“Oh god,” she breathed. “More.”

Rowan pulled the finger out in response.

Aelin paused, heaving slightly as she considered before breathing, “Please, Ro.”

“Please what?”

“Please, give me what I want. I’m...begging you.”

Rowan slid two fingers inside of her, grinning.

“Really, this is your begging? Pathetic.”

“Harder.”

“Harder?”

He increased his speed, knowing she was right on the edge of where she needed to be. Still, he didn’t cross that line.

“Fuck,” Aelin said, voice almost a whine. “Rowan, I’m right there—just make me come.”

“If I do, will you beg me for my cock next?”

“I will give you anything you want,” she said. “Just...” she exhaled again. “Please.”

He bowed his head between her legs again, pumping his fingers as he tongued the spot he knew would set her off.

Driven the brink by all his edging, her climax seemed to shudder through her, muscles in her stomach flexing as she contracted against his mouth. He was careful to keep his touch feather-light as the orgasm crested and ebbed, knowing her body was too sensitive to be properly played with yet.

“Oh god,” she breathed, body still trembling slightly. “I don’t think I’ve ever had an orgasm that strong before. What did you do to me, Whitethorn?”

He crawled up to meet her, hands sinking into the mattress on either side of her head before he kissed her.

“Showed you what you’ve been missing, apparently.”

She arched her hips up to meet his, the contact making him harden again.

“Aelin,” he breathed, using both palms to scrape her sweaty hair from her face.

“Kiss me,” she said softly, gaze so sincere he had to close his eyes to avoid being overcome.

He did as she asked, keeping his touch gentle in an effort to to convey what he couldn’t bear to voice out loud: that this was more than just meaningless sex.

“I want you inside of me,” she said.

He rotated his hips against hers, cock brushing against her in a way that made her cry out softly.

“I need to grab a condom,” he said into her ear. “Don’t move.”

“And what if I do?”

He bent to kiss her deeply.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” she breathed.

Rowan smiled, rising from the bed to grab a condom from his wallet before crossing to the window. He deftly unknotted the silk tie which had been used to hold back the curtains and holding it up for her to see.

Aelin expelled a noise of pleasure so finely edged it was almost a whine. Slowly, deliberately, she raised her arms above her head in invitation, eyes hooded as she watched him approach.

Sliding over her, he slipped the length of silk around her wrists before synching it to the headboard.

Aelin tugged I’m experimentation.

“Too tight?”

“No,” she said.

Rowan gently collared her throat as he bent to kiss her.

“Good girl.”

Rowan drew a finger down Aelin’s torso, circling her tight nipples before tracing her navel and venturing between her legs.

“I’m going to have to make this count,” he said, sliding two fingers into her again even as he held up the condom. “I only have one of these.”

“I have some in my suitcase,” she said. “Lucky for you, I think they’re magnums. Dream big, and all that.”

He grinned, making her laugh.

“Never hurts to be prepared,” she said.

“No it most certainly doesn’t,” he agreed, putting his mouth on her again.

She bucked off the bed and he used his hands to keep her hips pinned as she twisted against her restraints.

“If only I had a spreader bar,” he told her. “I would really have you at my mercy.”

“I’m at your mercy now,” she said. “Take me.”

That, Rowan could not resist.

Quickening the pace of his fingers, he concentrated on her clit until she shattered again. Only when she’d settled back on to the bed, legs quaking slightly, did he tear open the wrapper of the condom, sheathing himself with a practiced hand.

“You’re probably going to be extra tight from the orgasms,” he told her. “So I’m going to go slow at first.”

She nodded, and he kissed her again before grabbing his shaft and sliding a few inches into her.

“Tight” had perhaps been an understatement. The pressure of her was mind-numbing, spine-tingling bliss. Still, he forced himself to pause and take in her expression.

Her brows were synched, breath ragged. He bent to kiss the tightened corners of her eyes before brushing his lips to hers.

“Talk to me, gorgeous,” he breathed. “How are you doing?”

“You’re—big,” she said, voice still tense. “I’m just trying to adjust.”

“Relax,” he coached, petting a hand down the tense muscles in her stomach. “Breathe, Aelin.”

At this she let out a shuddering exhale, even mewing a little as he reached down to play with her.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he said, working her with the pad of his thumb. “Let me in.”

With that the some of the tenseness in her body loosened, and she moaned. He pushed in farther, kissing her deeply until she was forced to take another calming exhale.

When he shifted her hips and pulled her the rest of the way onto his shaft, she melted. He couldn’t hold back his groan of pleasure as he sank in effortlessly to the hilt, his stones brushing her soft ass.

“Fuck,” she said. “Why does that feel so good?”

He rose onto his knees, tilting her hips up on the process. She groaned.

“Because I bet no one’s hit this spot with you before,” he said.

Rearing back slightly, he thrust into her with delicious intent.

She bit her lip.

“Yours is deep,” he said.

Her answering laugh was husky.

“Are you trying to suggest you’re the biggest dick I’ve ever had?”

He smirked, unable to deny the smug masculine satisfaction that slithered through him at the thought.

“You said it, not me.”

He pulled back and thrust into her a second time. At this she squirmed a little, eyes firmly shut again.

“Yes, Aelin?” He said, repeating the gesture a third time.

She wiggled, trying to get more friction.

“Yes,” she said. “Oh god, yes.”

With that he increased his pace, loving the obscene sound their bodies made as they came together. Christ, had it ever felt this good?

He rode her hard but tried to maintain a pace that wouldn’t cause her an unpleasant amount of friction. From her moans, he was doing a better than alright job.

Rowan drank her in as she writhed beneath him, her body covered in a glistening sheen of sweat, her small breasts bouncing with the force of his thrusts.

When he reached a hand between her legs to play with her again, she swore, tightening around him.

“I’m so close.”

“Say my name," he said, left hand wrapping around the headboard for better leverage as he drove into her with increased force. “I want to hear you say my name when you come, Aelin.”

She surged forward, tongue tangled with his in a desperate kiss.

"Ro," she breathed. “Rowan.”

Rowan had to fend off a strangled moan at the reverence in her voice.

When he'd made the demand, he'd imagined her screaming it the way other women had, like it was a triumph that needed to be heralded. But hearing it whispered, as if it were a secret meant only for him, had been so much more powerful.

He instantly knew why: because this was so much more than mindless sex.

He felt the exact moment she came apart around him, loving the pressure as she squeezed him in a vice. Deftly he untied her bound hands, allowing her to wrap her arms around his neck as he kissed her.

He couldn’t hold back the pleasured groan which escaped as he found his own climax, hips nestled to hers as he drove in deep a final time.

God, what he wouldn’t give to come inside this girl for real. It was a selfish thought, but one Ro couldn’t immediately shake. He didn’t often think about babies of his own, but something about Aelin Galathynius made him want to have a million.

He shook his head slightly, desperate to rid himself of the notion of having children with a woman he’d just met. He kissed her instead, using the feeling of her lips against him to ground him more fully into reality.

When he felt he’d mastered himself, he pulled back to meet Aelin’s eye, mildly horrified to find that hers were glassy. Despite his earlier declaration about wanting to have her in tears, actually seeing them in her eyes had his heart dropping out of his chest.

“Oh god, you’re crying,” he blurted, quickly pulling out of her and touching her cheek. “Aelin, why are you crying?”

At this she snorted, the sound halfway between a laugh and a sob.

“Because that so intense I almost don’t know what to do with myself,” she admitted. “And when I get overwhelmed I always end up crying.”

He frowned, brushing her petal-soft cheek again.

“Good overwhelmed or bad?”

“Good,” she said. “Definitely good. That was just so—“ she blew out a shaky inhale, another tear slipping from the corner of her eye. “I came so hard I think my brain just stalled for a second.”

He couldn’t help but grin, even as he gently brushed the moisture from her cheek.

“I don’t think I’ve ever broken someone’s brain before,” he said. “Should I take that as a compliment?”

She laughed, the sound easier this time.

“Don’t be annoying,” she said. “You know how good you are.”

“What can I say? You inspire greatness in me, Galathynius.”

He bent to gently kiss her, his finger drawing a an ever-tightening circle around one erect nipple. Her back arched slightly at his featherlight touch, goosebumps breaking out across her small breasts.

“You are so gorgeously responsive,” he told her, bending to tug the opposite nipple with his teeth. “It’s like your whole body is a hot spot. It makes it impossible to stop touching you. I could seriously play with you all night.”

“It’s not usually like this,” Aelin admitted after a beat, threading her hand into his hair. When she spoke again, her tone was softer, more candid. “Most the time I’m too in my head, and it makes it hard to get turned on enough to let go.”

“What made tonight different?” Rowan asked, brushing the hair out her face.

He was fairly sure he already knew, but he needed to hear her say it, to take ownership of the feeling.

“I feel safe with you,” she said. “I don’t know why—you’re basically still a stranger—but I do.”

Rowan smiled, kissing her more deeply this time.

“I told you that you’d let go for me,” he breathed against her lips. “How did it feel, gorgeous?”

“Incredible,” she said, shifting her hips in search of friction as he settled more fully on top of her again. “I didn’t want it to end.”

Deftly, Rowan peeled off the condom and threw it into the trash.

“Who said it had to?” He asked grabbing her hips and rotating so he was on his back, Aelin nestled in his lap. “That was just round one.”

In response, She reached for his shaft to begin getting him hard, but he caught her wrist instead.

“It’s a marathon, Galathynius, not sprint,” he said, flipping her hand in his so he could kiss her palm. “And your body’s not ready for me to be inside you again yet.”

Aelin seemed a bit flustered at that, which left Rowan feeling torn. On the one hand, he hating thinking he’d embarrassed her or made her uncomfortable. On the other, the idea that he has the ability to make swaggering, sensuous Aelin Ashryvver-Galathynius bashful filled him with deep-seated satisfaction.

Seeming to read the intention in his gaze, she bent to kiss him, whispering, “you don’t have to.”

He pushed her back gently so he could look into her face.

“Don’t have to what?”

“Go down on me again. I know most guys don’t like to do it again once they’ve—“

“That’s amateur hour,” Rowan said, tone sharper than he’d meant it to be. “Whichever pin-headed prick told you that is a loser.”

She laughed, relaxing a little. At seeing this, Rowan settled more fully on his back, hands braced on her hips.

“Come here,” he said, voice rough with desire.

He was rewarded with a pretty blush.

“I’ve never...done it like that,” she admitted.

He smirked.

“Then I’m about to give you an important lesson in pleasure. Come here.”

Rising onto her knees, Aelin rose over Rowan until she was mere inches from his face.

“I feel like I’m going to suffocate you!” She said with a sheepish laugh.

“Then I’ll die the luckiest man on earth,” he said, gripping her ass. “Hold onto the headboard.”

She did, and he lifted his head just enough that the tip of his tongue brushed the most sensitive part of her.

Her whole body tightened in pleasure.

“Do that again,” she said, sounding more her confident self now.

“No,” he told her. “This position is about you being in control. I don’t give you pleasure; you take it.”

When she still didn’t move, he added, “this should be no problem for an imperious little thing like you.”

He knew goading her would do the trick, and after a moment she relaxed her hips, body sinking down to meet his waiting mouth. He couldn’t stifle a groan as she rocked her hips against him in experimentation. Seeing Aelin in is position, vulnerable but in control, was hotter than her could have possibly imagined.

Rowan flicked his tongue against her and she swore.

“That feels good,” she breathed, rocking forward against his mouth again. “Really good.”

His hands on the back of her thighs, he urged her hips forward, grazing her with his teeth before sucking hard.

This proved to be her unleashing.

Using the headboard for leverage, she began swishing her lips in a rhythmic motion, panting softly through her teeth as she worked herself up to climax.

He kneaded the soft flesh of her backside while she rocked against him, trying not to imagine what it would be like to slide his cock into her tight little ass. He had no idea if she was into that sort of thing nor any desire to pressure her into finding out, but the way she rocked back into his hands—as if urging them to explore—was enough to make him curious.

Hands on her waist, he tilted her pelvis towards him slightly, waiting to see how she’d react. In response she scooted higher on his body, her knees practically touching to the headboard. In this new position, there was no part of her he couldn’t access, and when she leaned forward, the invitation was clear.

Using his hands to open her legs more fully for him, he brushed his mouth against an intimate spot that—judging by her deep moan—no one had even touched before. When he repeated the gesture and she didn’t tense or pull away, he split legs even wider and circled the tight ring of muscle at the back with his tongue.

“Fuck,” she said, voice devolving into a string of slurred Spanish. “Rowan.”

Rowan worked her in broader strokes, his free hand coming up to play with her clit. When he slipped a finger inside of her he could tell she was getting close. Not wanting to claim the victory of her orgasm with only his fingers, he pulled her hips down so his tongue could replace his hand.

Far bolder now that she’d been when they’d started, Aelin followed his lead. Her fingers twined in his hair as she rocked against him hard, and Rowan was happy enough to sit back and watch as she took her pleasure like he’d instructed.

Between the rimjob and the edging, Aelin’s orgasm—when it hit—seemed to last a blissful eternity. She was trembling slightly as she collapsed beside him, eyes still closed.

“That was the hottest thing I think I’ve ever seen,” he said.

He gently cupped between her legs, careful not to apply too much pressure when she was still so sensitive.

“You’re telling me that?” she said with a laugh. “I’ve done it that to other people, obviously, but I’ve never let anyone—“ she broke off with another laugh. “Apparently I’ve been missing out.”

Rowan smirked, if only to hide the twinging realization that after tonight, it would someone else making her feel good, not him.

“I hope I didn’t set an impossible standard,” he said dryly.

“Maybe not yet,” she said, eyes blazing with want. “But you’re well in your way, and the night is still young.”

She let her azure gaze snake down his body with exaggerated slowness. By the time it reached his cock, he was granite-hard.

“Where are the rest of the condoms?” he asked.

If he wasn’t inside of her in the next minute, he might actually lose his mind.

“Bathroom,” she said, rising to her feet. “I’ll be right back.”

Rowan didn’t have time for that. He rose from the bed to follow her into the lavish en-suite. Normally he might of gawked a little at the opulence—the marble countertops, the sunken tub—but his entire focus was on Aelin. The best he could do was shift the lens to the things in her periphery. Everything else was a blur.

She was just straightening—foil packet in hand—as he entered, and he didn’t even give her a chance speak before her grabbed her around the waist, spinning her so his chest was pressed into her back.

Taking the condom, he ripped open the package and slid it on with one hand while his other moved between her legs to ensure she was ready for him.

“How do you feel?” He asked. “Do you need me to—“

“Whitethorn, if I was any wetter I’d be Nile. Get inside me already.”

It was all the permission Rowan needed. Hand on her back, he coaxed her to bend, using his legs to push hers wider as he did. She yelped softly as her bare breasts made contact with the cold marble, and he ran a hand over the curve of her hip to settle her before sliding to the hilt in single stroke.

It felt better, even, than it had the first time. She clenched around the intrusion of him even as she moaned, and he only managed to wait a beat before grabbing her hips and setting a blistering pace.

He glanced in the mirror and their gazes caught in the reflection, her desire molten.

Wanting more, he coaxed her up until her torso lifted from the counter.

Yes, he thought with greedy satisfaction. This.

This was what he wanted. Her firm tits bouncing with each hard thrust, her hips rocking back and forth, and her eyes squeezed shut in pleasure.

Gently collaring her throat with his hand, he whispered in her ear.

“Touch yourself for me.”

She did, canting her hips forward for increased friction as she moaned.

As she increased the speed with her hand, Rowan increased his, fucking her hard through her orgasm as she tightened around him.

She collapsed against the counter as he pulled her hips flush to his for one final thrust before coming undone.

She wobbled when he stepped back to pull off the condom, and he deftly caught her around the waist before she melted to the floor like a newborn fawn.

“Easy,” he said, coaxing her into his arms.

She laid her head on his shoulder.

“I think your dick has mystical powers,” she said. “Because that was insane.”

Rowan chuckled, carrying her to the bed and laying her down.

“There’s a Harry Potter joke in there somewhere,” he said, brushing some hair off her sweaty cheek as her eyelids drooped. “I’m just too lazy to find it.”

“Harry Potter references,” she said, already half-asleep. “Are you trying to make me fall in love with you?”

She was out before he could even respond, but he did anyway, lips to her temple as he whispered, “I wish I could.”

Ro woke up at sunrise the next morning, Aelin still fast asleep beside him. Not quite in his arms, but still close enough that he could feel her warmth. Christ, she smelled incredible. Like lemon and coconut.

He propped his head on a chin, admiring the way the dawn light set her skin and hair to glowing. She looked like a fallen star.

Rowan’s heart ached a bit as he studied her, trying to memorize every detail, knowing that their time together was quickly running out. Originally, he’d only planned to stay the night, promising himself that as soon as the dark was gone, he would be, too.

In the light of day, he knew it wasn’t going to be that easy. Perhaps it was only asking for more trouble, but Rowan wanted to stay at least for the morning.

He could bring her coffee from that shop Cash loved; if Ro remembered correctly, it wasn’t far from here. He could go get it while she was still sleeping, and make her breakfast when she woke up.

He wouldn’t stay all day, he promised himself, just long enough that she knew she wasn’t some meaningless screw he’d fucked and then chucked. Surely she deserved that much, at least.

Unable to resist, he ran a hand down the silky mane of her hair, slightly tangled from their numerous romps the night before, before rising from the bed as quietly and creeping towards the bedroom door. He found his boxers briefs and shorts easily enough. He just needed to find his—

“Leaving so soon?”

He turned to find Aelin sitting up in the bed, that signature smirk painted on her pouty mouth. She hadn’t bothered to pull up the sheet to cover herself, and her breasts were fully visible, the studs in them winking in the crepuscular light pouring in from the window.

“Only to get some coffee,” he said, loving the way the tension which had limned her muscles disappeared. She’d been displeased with the idea of him leaving, even if she hadn’t wanted to show it.

Her next smile was far easier.

“I have coffee here,” she said.

“Not like this you don’t,” he said with a grin. “There is no coffee on earth better than the beans for the Kona Mountains.”

Her expression grew feline.

“You dare say such things to a Cuban?” She said. “If Galen were here, he’d have you tarred and feathered.”

Rowan recalled the coffee he’d had on a trip to Havana during the short period travel when from the US to Cuba had been permitted. She wasn’t wrong; it had been fucking delicious. Still, he wasn’t going to give up that easy.

“That’s more like espresso; not the same as having a full mug with you while you watch the sun rise.”

“The sun’s already risen,” Aelin said with a smile. “And coffee should be strong and decadent, and that’s what a cortadito is. You can keep your vat of hot bean water; a little is all you need. Just enough to whet the appetite.”

Rowan couldn’t help but grin.

“Awfully set in your ways for a person who’s so young.”

“I’m only five years younger than you,” Aelin pointed out. “And I didn’t hear any complaints from you last night.”

“That’s because I have none,” Rowan admitted. “You’re—“

He broke off, not wanting to embarass himself with verbose declarations now that they were both stone sober.

“I’m—“ Aelin prompted, standing from the bed. She was still naked as they day she was born, and it was an effort not to admire her.

“You know what you are,” Rowan said.

“I do,” Aelin agreed, slinking forward and draping her arms over Rowan’s shoulders. “But it hits different coming from you.”

It was the same thing he’d told her the night before, and he decided to indulge her the way she had him.

“You’re perfect,” he said, his hand slipping around her bare waist to tug her into him.

He kissed her softly, and he could feel her answering smile against his lips.

“Yes, I am,” she said, and he couldn’t help it.

He laughed, lifting her off her feet and heading towards the bed with her still in his arms. When he was close enough he tossed her onto the wrinkled nest of sheets and pillows before crawling over her.

“What am I going to do with you, Galathynius?”

She laughed as he playfully nuzzled her neck.

“Feed me? I’m starving after your thorough ravishing last night.”

“I think I can do that,” he said, bending to kiss her.

Still, he couldn’t bring himself to get up right away. Instead he rolled onto his side so he was facing her, trying not to preen as she traced a whorl of his tattoo.

“We never talked about these last night,” she said, her featherlight touch making goosebumps appear on his skin. “They’re...Hawaiian?”

“Māori,” Rowan said. “I grew up on Maui, but my family is originally from farming town near Auckland.”

Aelin’s eyes glittered with interest.

“Have you even been there?”

“To New Zealand?” Rowan shrugged. “We used to go every few years while my grandparents were still alive. At the time it seemed boring. Now I’m glad we got the opportunity.”

Aelin nodded, still tracing his tattoos. She’d moved from his shoulder to his chest, fingers trailing closer and closer to his heart. To—

“And this one?” Aelin said. “It doesn’t look Māori.”

Rowan’s throat ached a bit as she ran the tips of her fingers over the letters at the very center of the massive design, directly above his heart.

Λυρία

“It’s Greek,” he explained.

She glanced up at him, gaze full of emotion as she said quietly, “It looks like a name.”

He nodded, throat growing tight.

“Lyria.”

Aelin didn’t push for clarification, but after a beat Rowan found himself speaking anyway.

“She’s my—she was my—“

When he broke off, Aelin only nodded.

“What happened?”

“Non-Hodgkins lymphoma. It was stage four by the time they caught it. She was gone within six months of her diagnosis.”

Aelin reached up to gently cup Rowan’s cheek.

“I’m so sorry, Rowan.”

He’d had people apologize to him a thousand times for Lyria’s untimely death, but something in Aelin’s tone was different. It was sympathetic but also...understanding, somehow.

“Have you ever lost someone you thought would be in your life forever?”

Aelin considered this before flipping her wrist and extending it. There, inked in neat script, were three small letters Rowan hadn’t noticed before.

S-a-m

“We were high school sweethearts and went to UT together,” she explained. “My sophomore year we lived in an apartment together in West Campus, but we’d started to talk about moving after there had been a series of unsolved rapes in the neighborhood. We were on the first floor and Sam was worried about me being there when he was on the road for baseball season. The night I finally agreed we could start looking for another place, there was a break-in.”

She paused, brows furrowed as she continued to study the tattoo.

“The guy had a gun, and told Sam that if he cooperated it would be over quickly and neither of us would get hurt. But Sam refused, and he fought the guy off while I called the cops. He got shot while they were struggling with the gun, and by the time the paramedics got there it was too late.”

“Aelin, I...” Rowan paused, not wanting to saying the wrong thing. “That must have been awful. I’m so sorry.”

Aelin nodded, rubbing the tattoo with her thumb.

“Me too,” she said. “I miss him a lot.”

That, Rowan certainly understood. There wasn’t a day that went by that Rowan didn’t miss Lyria.

“Did they ever catch the perp?”

“Yeah, the guy’s gloves came off in the struggle and he ended up leaving prints. Cairn Macgory. Turned out he was a law student, top honors, no criminal record. The only reason they had his fingerprints was because of his application to take the bar. He was going to be a family law attorney. He already had a job lined up after school.”

“I hope he rots in hell,” Rowan said honestly, hating the haunted look that had crept into Aelin’s eyes.

“He’s honestly just lucky the cops got to him first,” she said. “My dad was ready to have him black-bagged back to Cuba and cut into little pieces.”

“I’m sort of sorry he didn’t,” Rowan admitted, and this—unexpectedly—made Aelin laugh.

“Aren’t you a cop? I thought you’d be all gung-ho for law and order.”

“Even cops can want revenge.”

Some of Aelin’s mirth faded at this, and she looked up to study him. It was an odd feeling to be so exposed, but Rowan found he didn’t mind it coming from Aelin. After a moment she relented, leaning over to rest her head on his shoulder.

“Sorry, that was sort of heavy for a one-night stand.”

Rowan strung an arm around her sturdy shoulders as he ignored the twinge in his gut.

A one-night stand.

He’d never stayed the morning with his previous one-night stands, and he’d certainly never told any of them about Lyria, so how could that be what this was?

Before he could damn the consequences and ask Aelin about it, she slipped from his embrace, grinning at him over a shoulder.

“Can I make you a cortadito, or have I scared you off?”

He grabbed her hand to pull her back.

“I’ll have coffee,” he told her rising onto his knees and she sank back onto the bed half-way. “And after that I’ll take you to breakfast.”

“You’re friends won’t be missing you?

Rowan traced her hipbones with this thumbs, everything he’d done to her the previous evening flooding back.

“They’re adults,” he said breezily, leaning forward to kiss the soft skin between her breasts. “They’ll be fine.”

Aelin drove a hand into his hair, her grip light and playful.

“You phones been blowing up for 20 minutes,” she pointed out.

“That’s just Cash being nosy.”

“He’s not dating anyone?”

“Not that I know of,” Rowan admitted setting back onto the bed and tugging her casually into his lap. “But Cash has always been full of secrets; it’s part of his charm.”

“What about the other two?” She asked. “The gorgeous one and the grouch.”

“Fenrys is more a serial dater,” Rowan said. “Mostly because his taste in men is garbage. He always falls for the haole fuckboys then cries when they turn out to be assholes.”

“Haole?” Aelin said.

“Non-Polynesians, technically,” Rowan explained. “But most of the time Hawaiians just use it to mean—“

“Gringos,” Aelin said, grinning. “They do love to make trouble, don’t they?”

Rowan had to laugh at this.

“Fen would certainly say so.”

Aelin nodded, laughing as well.

“So that just leaves—”

“Lorcan,” Rowan said. “His bark is worse than his bite.”

“Aedion said he played him in Volleyfest last year in Miami. Why didn’t y’all compete in the men’s division together?”

Rowan rubbed the back of his neck.

“It’s...complicated.”

“I assume this has to do with your ex?”

“She invited me to play in with her. Lor wasn’t even supposed to be here this weekend. He decided to surprise me last minute.”

“So there is a gooey center underneath the scowl!” Aelin said.

“To be honest, I think Lor is probably the most sensitive and caring of all four of us. He just—isn’t good at emoting. He’s also a fastidious believer in ‘boys night’, though I think that’s just because he’s not good at chatting women up.”

“Bet he wasn’t too thrilled with me last night then, huh?”

“He’ll get over it. And he still pulls like crazy, even with his terrible flirting. Usually women take one look at him and decide they don’t even care if he can talk at all.”

Aelin laughed.

“I figured as much,” she said, rising from the bed again. “I have a lot of follow-up questions, but I need a shower before we go. Care to join me?”

She was already halfway to the open bathroom door when Rowan found his feet again, and wasting no time, he quickly swept her up in his arms and carried her the rest of the way.

After they spent forty-fives minutes fooling around in the shower and another hour having sex against nearly every available surface in the suite, breakfast—inevitably—turned to lunch.

After lunch, they’d joined a pick-up “king of the beach” doubles tournament some of the previous day’s competitors had set up. They’d made such a good team that it was nearly evening by the time they lost a match and were finally bumped off the champion court.

Starving from the exertion, they’d gone back to the suite to shower before leaving again to go to dinner. Dinner had turned into cocktails on the beach, which had turned into beers drinks at Bar 35 then tequila shots at Smith & Kings. The evening that followed was a blur of pleasure, as was the following morning, which they spend in bed together, naked and sweaty.

At every turn Rowan told himself he needed to leave, need to start distancing himself from Aelin so he could start trying to forget her. However, he’d known from the start that it had been a fools errand.

There was no forgetting a girl like Aelin Ashryvver-Galathynius. Her vivacity, her humor, her raw sexual charisma—Rowan had never met anyone like her, and he doubted he ever would again.

So how the fuck was he supposed to just let her go? It was a thought that plagued him all the way to the airport on the afternoon Aelin was due to fly back to the mainland. He’d agreed to accompany her for a last drink before her flight departed, wanting to wring every last second he could out of the weekend.

It was—he knew—only delaying the inevitable by continually putting off their goodbyes, but Ro couldn’t help it. Aelin was like the sun—vibrant and essential—and Rowan had found himself in her orbit.

Harsh realities aside, it was a painfully lovely place to be.

Ro definitely felt a shift in the vibe as he paid their tab and they headed towards the security gate. Things had gone from easy and playful to quiet and subdued, Aelin’s usual flair dimming as she continually adjusted the bag on her shoulder.

Rowan searched and searched for the words he would say to her when they were finally forced to part. They’d never even exchanged numbers; perhaps he could ask for hers and offer to call her if he was ever in Austin?

It seems so stilted and formal after everything they’d shared this weekend. He’d been inside of her, for Christ’s sake. In fact, they’d had so much sex that they’d had to buy more condoms. And she’d fallen asleep in his arms last night, and stayed there until they’d woken up this morning. That was worth more than some vague promise to “look her up” if he even came to Texas.

Still, Ro was burning daylight and he knew it. The security gate was visible now, and though they’d both seemed to slow their pace in an effort to delay the inevitable, it was approaching just the same. Finally they reached the short queue where agents were checking boarding passes and travelers were taking off their shoes and belts.

Aelin was busy on her phone as they slowed to a stop, almost as if she were avoiding looking at him.

“My cousins are already at the gate,” she said by way of explanation. “They said boarding is starting in twenty minutes.”

Rowan glanced at the security line then his watch.

“You’ve got time; things seem to be moving pretty fast.”

Aelin looked over at the line as well. Finally she dragged her azure eyes back to him, the sheer force of her gaze enough to stun him stupid. She paused, as if waiting for him to speak. He had nothing, though.

“Well,” she said finally, a small, tense smile playing around her lips. “I would offer to shake your hand and say ‘it was nice to meet you’, but given the fact we’ve seen each other naked, I think I’ll spare us both the indignity.”

Rowan forced a laugh, even as a pit began forming in his stomach. Shit, should he give her a hug, offer to give her—

“Goodbye, Rowan,” she said, leaning up to brush a kiss just to the right of his mouth. “It’s been—“ she clearly her throat, glancing away for a second. “I had an amazing weekend.”

“Congratulations again,” he found himself saying. “For making the AVP tour. You deserve it.”

Jesus Fucking Christ, was that really the best he could do? Maybe Fen was right, and he was destined to die alone.

Aelin’s grin didn’t quite meet her eyes.

“Like I said, I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Happy to help,” he forced out. “Have a safe flight, Aelin.”

She smiled, the solemnity in her eyes now limning her face as well.

“I put my number in your phone,” she said, beginning to walk backwards towards the TSA podium. “Call me if you’re ever in Austin.”

With that she turned, and Rowan’s heart was suddenly in his throat, beating two hundred times a minute.

His mind whirred with all the reasons he had to simply let her leave—she still in college, they lived thousands of miles apart, he was a cop in Vice Squad and she was a fucking billionaire—a perceived conflict of interest even if it wasn’t a real one. There was no way it could ever work. It was hopeless, fraught with problems, doomed to fail—

He could hear his pulse pounding in his ears as he continued to spiral, thoughts growing so jumbled that he could hardly make sense of them anymore. Then a single, cogent thread emerged through the cacaphony and chaos, spooling him back to sanity.

A voice.

“Anóitos,” it teased, the tone soft and airy. “What are you doing? Don’t just stand there!”

Fuck , he missed that voice.

It had been three years since he’d lost Lyria. Three years since he’d heard her laugh, or sing, or speak Greek.

Three long, terrible years since he’d heard her speak at all.

But even after all this time, her voice was crystal clear in his head. He often felt it was her absence—more than her memory—that he’d been left with when she’d died. In that moment, though, it almost felt as if Lyria were standing beside him.

“Go, Ro. I’ll be here.”

Rowan felt a warmth tingle through him, and as he blinked back to reality, Lyria’s voice seemed to fade. But where he’d been buzzing with doubt a moment before, Rowan felt himself suddenly brimming with clarity.

If there was anything he’d learned from Lyria’s sickness, it was that life was simply too short to waste.

Lyria had died with her would-be engagement ring still in tucked away in Ro’s dresser drawer. He hated himself for the cowardice, but when she got sick he couldn’t bring herself to ask her to marry him. He’d wanted to believe that if he put off giving her the ring it might somehow serve as a talisman to keep her from leaving him. It hadn’t though, and instead she’d died never getting to be his wife.

It was a mistake he couldn’t afford to make a second time. It was improbable that he and Aelin would get married, but he felt he owed them both the opportunity to find out.

His mind was made up; fuck, he was really doing this.

“Aelin!”

She turned, watching with bemusement as he jogged toward her.

“What—“ she began, but he cut her off.

“I don’t want this to be over,” he blurted.

Aelin sagged a bit, a genuine smile splitting her face.

“Oh thank God,” she said.

Setting down her bag, she started towards him and they met halfway. Rowan cradled her face in his hands and he bent to kiss her. She fisted the fabric of his T-shirt at the hips as the kiss intensified.

“So what does this mean?” Aelin said, slightly breathless as she pulled away. “I’ve never done this before.”

Rare for her to admit she wasn’t perfect at something.

“We’ll have to figure it out as we go,” Rowan said. “My detective’s exam is in two weeks, and then I get a week off. I can come to Austin then?”

She nodded.

“Are we...” Aelin paused, biting her lip. “I mean, do you want to be...”

“Be what?”

“Exclusive?”

“Yes!”

It was out before he could stop it, so he quickly amended, “but only if you—“

“Yes,” she said, smile easier now. “I want that.”

“And are we...using labels?”

She smirked.

“Three days in and you’re already trying to wife me up?”

Now it was Rowan’s turn to flush.

“Okay, no labels—“

“I didn’t say that,” Aelin said quickly. “I just don’t want to jinx a good thing by moving too fast. What if you get back to LA and realize you accidentally got a girlfriend you don’t want? You did drink a lot of tequila this weekend.”

“Never,” he said gently, taking her cheeks in his hands. “Doubt that I want you, Aelin Ashryvver-Galathynius. And I’m fine to wait, if that’s what you want.”

“But...”

He felt his lips tugging again.

“But it’s doesn’t feel soon, not to me.”

“So....labels?” she said.

“Labels,” he agreed.

She grinned, kissing him again.

“In that case, your girlfriend has to go or she’s going to miss her flight and turn into your live-in girlfriend.”

“Honestly, your boyfriend wouldn’t mind.”

Aelin scrunched her nose, even as she laughed a bit.

“We agree the third person thing is creepy, right?”

“Yes, thank you God,” Rowan said, laughing with her.

“Dame un beso,” Aelin said, grabbing the collar of his shirt in an effort to tug his lips closer to hers. “Or I really am going to miss this flight.”

Knowing his time was short, Rowan made the kiss count, teasing Aelin with his lips and tongue until she was slightly breathless.

“See you in three weeks,” he said, pulling away.

He set the bag Aelin had abandoned on her shoulder and kissed her quickly again.

“And text me when you get on the plane so I know you’ve made it.”

She grinned, kissing him a final time before jogging off towards security once again.

“Oh and just fair warning,” she said, spinning on a heel to grin at him as she joined the short line. “My cousins are not going to like this. Might want to sleep with one eye open for a while.”

“You tell me this now?”

“Te veo pronto, querido,” she said in response, kissing her hand in farewell before showing the TSA agent her boarding pass and disappearing into the concourse.

He waited several minutes before pulling out his phone to text her. As he did, his phone chirped to signal an incoming text.

Did I mention I also stole your number and put it in my phone? 😈 💋

Troublemaker, he wrote back. Did you make it?

Yes. Wish you were here to join the Mile High Club with me.

Before Rowan could even formulate a response to that, his phone chimed again, this time from a number he didn’t know.

This is Aedion Ashryvver, it said. Treat her right or I’ll break both your kneecaps.

His phone went off a third time, the new text also from an unknown number.

Not just your kneecaps, either.

Galen Ashryvver, if Ro had to guess.

Ignoring Aelin’s cousins, he replied to her instead, saying simply, Seems like good news travels fast

The grey ellipsis pulsed for a moment as Aelin typed.

Aedion said it was their price for letting us stay in the suite alone all weekend. Taking off now. Talk to you soon ✌️ ✈️

Then it was worth it, Rowan sent back. Have a safe flight. Call me when you get stateside.

Aelin sent back a heart, and Rowan had to fight down an annoyingly girlish fluttering in his stomach as he dialed a new number and put the phone to his ear.

It only rang twice before the line clicked.

“He lives!” Cash said in greeting. “Welcome back from the island of puss—“

“Very funny,” Rowan interjected. “Where are you?”

“Hideaway. Where are you, honeymoon chapel in Vegas?”

Rowan rolled his eyes.

“Ha-ha.”

Cash scoffed.

“Ha-ha, that’s all I get? You’ve been gone for two days, brother! I want details.”

“I’ll tell you everything when I get there.”

“Just give me a quick teaser: do you have a girlfriend now?”

Rowan growled, making Cash laugh.

“I told you!” He said to someone on his end, presumably Lor or Fen.

“You’re seriously dating her?” Lor demanded a second later. “Like full-blown ‘exclusively-fucking, using-labels’ dating her?”

“Full-blown.”

“I KNEW IT!” Cash called, just as Lor growled, “fuck me, man.”

“You owe me a drink,” Lorcan told Rowan. “I just lost 200 bucks because of you.”

“I’ll buy you a shot of house tequila,” Rowan said, unable to keep in a smile. “Final offer.”

“Hurry up,” was Lorcan’s only response. “Before Kahukore explodes from the anticipation.”

“Getting my popcorn as we speak!” Cash called from the background, and with that Rowan hung up.

A short Uber ride later, Rowan strolled into the Hideaway Inn, his friends wolf-whistling as he approached.

Cash was on his feet first, grabbing Rowan by the shoulders an inspecting him head-to-toe.

“What are you doing?” Rowan said, playfully pushing out of Cash’s grip.

“Just taking you in,” Cash said with a disarming smile. “It feels like it’s been an age since we last saw you!”

Rowan rolled his eyes, and Fen added, “Pretty dark circles you’ve got there, lover boy. Galathynius keep you up all night?”

“I am not answering that,” Rowan said. “Or any questions about what she’s like in bed.”

“Why?” Cash cooed. “Because she’s your girlfriend?”

“You’re both clowns,” Rowan said.

“You’re the one dating a teenager,” Lor said. “So who’s the clown now?”

“She’s 21,” Rowan said. “And green isn’t a good color on your, Salvaterre, so just relax.”

Lorcan smirked.

“Jealous? Of you dating a Amazonian she-devil? I don’t think so.”

“That is exactly what a jealous person would say,” Fen pointed out. “Chin up, Lor, your time will come.”

Lorcan only snarled in response.

“What do we think Salvaterre’s eventual lady love going to be like?” Cash chimed in. “Betting line’s officially open, gents.”

“Tiny,” Rowan and Fen both said at the same time.

“Fifty bucks says he ends up marrying a girl under 5’4,” Fen added.

“Grow up,” Lor said with an eye roll, though Ro had known him long enough to tell he wasn’t actually bothered by the conversation.

“Make me,” Fen said.

Lor jerked his head the pool table in the back corner.

“I beat you, you owe me fifty bucks and you shut your cakehole.”

“And if I win?” Fen said.

“You won’t, so it doesn’t matter. Let’s do this.”

Lor shot Rowan a quick, conspiratorial nod, and Ro realized Lor had done it on purpose, to give Rowan and Cash a chance to talk.

It was one of the things that Ro loved about Lorcan Salvaterre. He was perceptive in seeing what people needed, and not jealous or petty. Somehow, he’d seemed to sense Rowan’s need to talk to Cash alone, even if Ro himself hadn’t realized it until just now.

He gave Lor a grateful smile, and Lor turned to clap Fen on the back, leading him towards the billiards table in the back.

“So,” Cash said, flagging the bartender down and ordered two beers and two shots of whiskey. “Tell me everything.”

He clicked his glass to Rowan’s in salute and they both tipped the shots back. Rowan winced a bit at the taste before running a hand through his hair, trying to collect his thoughts.

He ran Cash quickly through the weekend’s events, skipping over the more X-rated content and ending with his and Aelin’s agreement at the airport.

“Damn,” Cash said when Rowan had finished. “Are you sure this girl isn’t a witch? Because she has you under a spell.”

Rowan laughed.

“She’s—” he began, breaking off with a sheepish laugh. “I really like her, man.”

“You’re smitten,” Cash said with a grin. “Look at you!”

Rowan opened his mouth to deny it before shrugging.

“Being with her feels different somehow. It isn’t just that she’s gorgeous or funny or smart, even though she’s all of those things. It’s more than that.”

Cash considered this, but he didn’t tease the way Ro feared he might. Instead he simply asked, “what of you mean?”

Rowan blew out a breath.

“There’s just something about her that’s almost... familiar . Like I’ve been looking for her my whole life, even without knowing it. I know that sounds crazy, but...”

Rowan shrugged again, tracing the rim of his glass.

“She’s just special.”

Cash’s smiled, a softer thing than his fiendish grin from before.

“I’ve never seen you like this, brother.” He paused, his expression growing more reverent as he added in a softer voice, “Not in a long time, at least.”

They were quiet a moment as they both silently recalled the memories that hung unspoken between them. Cash had been the first important person in his life that Rowan had introduced Lyria to, and over the years, Cash was the one who’d come to know Lyria the best; he’d been her friend in his own right.

He couldn’t see it at the time, but when Ro finally emerged from his own grief over Lyria’s death, it was realize that Cash had been grieving as well; he’d simply put his aside to focus on helping Rowan heal instead.

It was hard to describe what that sacrifice had meant to Ro; the nice thing about a friendship as deep as theirs was that Rowan didn’t have to explain his gratitude for Cash to understand it. It was implicit in every conversation they ever had about Lyria, even this one.

“You want to know the weirdest part?” Rowan said finally. “When I was watching Aelin walk away, it felt like, I don’t know, like Lyria was there with me. Like she was telling me ‘go get her’.”

Cash smiled, his expression one of admiration tinged in sadness.

“She wanted you to be happy, Ro.”

Rowan nodded, throat tight as he looked into his glass.

“I still miss her, every day. Part of me worries that if things with Aelin ever got serious, I might start missing her less.”

Cash’s answering shrug was sympathetic.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“I don’t want to forget her,” Rowan said, marveling that he could admit that fear out loud.

“You won’t,” Cash assured him. “Ever. But you’re allowed to move on, brother; that’s what she wanted for you.”

There was something in his tone, an assurity and a promise, that had Rowan’s mouth going dry. He glanced up to meet Cash’s gaze.

“She told you that?”

Cash nodded once.

“The last time I saw her. She made me promise to look out for you, and to make sure you ended up with the right girl. And honestly?” He said, a smile beginning to grow on his face. “I think you might have just met her. I can’t let you mess that up by overthinking things, for Lyria’s sake as much for your and Aelin’s.”

Rowan felt his lips tugging up.

“You’re going to like her,” he said, and Cash grinned.

“Latin girl who can kick your ass in sports? I love her already.”

Rowan laughed.

“I’m going to Austin after my exam, but she’s planning on coming to LA sometime after that. If you’re free, you could fly out, I have airline miles—“

“I’d love to,” Cash interjected, clapping Ro in the back. “But I’m going to be out of commission for the next few months. I promise I’ll meet her properly soon, though. She seems cool as hell.”

Not to be put off by the diversion regarding Aelin, Rowan frowned, narrowing his eyes as he scrutinized his friend’s expression. Cash’s answering smile was cryptic and slightly wild. It was then Ro remembered what Cash had told him when he’d first gotten into town days ago.

“Fuck,” he said, running a hand through his silver hair. “I feel like such a dick, you said you had news. I totally forgot, I’m sorry.”

Cash laughed, the sound easy and unburdened.

“You just met the women you’re probably going to marry. I’ll give you a pass.”

Rowan thought to object to the notion he was going to marry Aelin after only three days together, but something told him not to.

“Well tell me now,” Rowan said instead.

His friend’s cryptic smile returned, mischief sparkling in his hazel eyes.

“The only thing worse than having too many secrets,” Cash always said. “Is having none at all.”

Ro had a feeling Cash was about to drop a big one on him right now.

“I’m moving to London.”

“Wait?” Rowan demanded. “Seriously?”

Cash grinned.

“Seriously.”

“Just for a change of pace?”

“Partly,” Cash said with a shrug. “But mostly to be a Master Sommelier.”

Now that, Rowan had not expected. He struggled to pick his jaw off the floor enough to speak.

“Like a wine expert?” He said, stunned. “I thought you didn’t like wine! You always ripped on your uncle for opening Merchant of Vino!”

Cash laughed.

“That’s because it’s a stupid name and Dev’s a hapless businessman.“

Rowan still couldn’t fully master his shock, though it was quickly being subsumed by an overwhelming pride.

“This is amazing, man,” he said, clasping Cash’s shoulder. “When did you decide to do this?”

Cash’s smile had grown slightly sheepish.

“When I first sat for the Level One Sommelier exam three years ago?”

“Three years?” Rowan repeated. “You’ve been sitting on this for three fucking years? Why didn’t you say anything? Every time I asked about your job you brushed me off!”

Cash rubbed the back of his neck.

“I didn’t want to tell you in case it—didn’t pan out.”

“Seems like it’s panning out just fine!” Rowan said with a laugh.

“It’s going alright,” Cash agreed with a laugh. “Considering I passed the theory portion of the Master Sommelier exam. I just have to complete the tasting and I’ll be one of 229 Masters Somms in the world.”

“Jesus Christ,” Rowan blurted. “That’s incredible. How does London fit into all this?”

“If I said the name Sadeghi, would that mean anything to you?”

“Persian billionaires or something?”

Cash nodded.

“The old man is from originally from Tehran, but the family has been in England for ages; they’re real estate royalty in the UK. Sadeghi put his son in charge opening a new hotel and restaurant in London, and I’m going to be the wine manager. Make the lists, relationship build with vineyards, that kind of thing. They’ve already hired a Michelin Star chef from Marrakech, so it’s...a pretty big deal. It’s also a good way to for me to grow my network while I study for the exam. I don’t want to be stuck in the restaurant business forever.”

“Cash,” Rowan said, grinning. “That’s amazing.”

Cash smiled.

“Maybe you and Aelin can come visit once I get settled,” Cash said in deflection, clearly at his limit for discussing himself. “You know, Aelin your girlfriend.”

Rowan had to laugh.

He had a girlfriend.

And—Jesus Christ—Cash was moving to England. It was almost too much good news for a single day.

“I’m happy for you,” he told his friend, giving his shoulder an affectionate squeeze. “And you deserve this. You’re going to crush it”

“I hope so,” Cash said. “The pass rate for the tasting portion of the exam is 32%.”

“You’re the smartest person I know,” Rowan said. “So that number means nothing.”

Cash grinned.

“You flirting with me, Whitethorn?”

“If you’re going to be friends with billionaires, you need to learn how to start taking compliments,” Rowan said with a chuckle.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Cash said, and Rowan could see the unsaid words shining in his friend’s hazel eyes. “Another drink?”

Cash turned to slip off the stool he’d been perched on, by Rowan caught his arm.

“Cash.”

Cash turned back, expression somewhat bemused. Rowan felt a lump beginning to form in his throat, but he pushed on regardless.

“It’ll be you, you know that right?”

“Be me?” Cash repeated, confused.

“When I get married—whoever I get married to—you’ll be my best man. I couldn’t have it any other way.”

Cash smiled, eyes sparkling. He considered this for a moment before pulling Rowan into a hug, one which Rowan gratefully accepted.

“Love you, brother.”

There were very few people Rowan considered worthy of this type of familial affection, but Cash was certainly one of them.

“I’m not drunk enough for this kind of thing,” Cash said, pulling away. “I’m going to get us another drink.”

Rowan’s phone buzzed with an incoming call just as Cash was sauntering away. He was surprised to find it was Aelin, and concern sluiced through him as he answered the call.

Before he could ask if she was okay, Aelin said, “Stupid flight attendant has been holding out on me. She waited until just now to tell me I could make calls on WiFi.”

Rowan felt amusement tugging at his lips.

“Should I be concerned that you’re calling from altitude? Nothing’s wrong, is there?”

Rowan could practically hear Aelin’s grin through the phone.

“No,” she said breezily “But I realized I never told you about the Cinnabon I had on my way to the gate. I figured I should call and tell you now lest I forget.”

“Oh yeah?” Rowan said.

He couldn’t help it; he was all-out smiling now.

“It was life-changing,” Aelin said.

Rowan glanced up to find Cash joining Fen and Lor at the pool table with a conspiratorial wink. When he mouthed ‘sorry’ and made to rise, Cash waved him off with a smile.

“In that case,” Rowan said, settling back on his stool. “Tell me everything.”

THE END

If you liked this story and want more Rowaelin, check out my Nessian fic In Vino Veritas, set in the same modern au-verse about four years later. If you want a sneak peak at how Lorcan’s romance check out the teaser for F*cking Lawyers, set within the In Vino timeline. ♥️

TAGLIST: @tswaney17 @katexrenee @mightymorphingayagenda @nalgenewhore @superspiritfestival @mis-lil-red @pilesofriles @whitewashedasiangiril @http-itsrebecca @starkovsnesta @thebitchupstairs @sometimesimthatbitch @islareads @faerie-queen-fireheart @queen-of-glass @sleeping-and-books @enpointe10 @justgiu12 @thesurielships @keshavomit @stardelia @awesomelena555 @alyx801 @carbconnoisseur @ladywitchling @thewayshedreamed @annedub @cityofchelsea16 @spyofthenightcourt @empress-ofbloodshed @morrigays @theminorfallandthemajorlift @belamoonbeam @moonstoneriver77 @wesupremeginger @scrawlandspirits @garnet-29 @b00kworm @cursebreaker29 @jesstargaryenqueen @feyrethedarklady @officialasianbitch @cridhe-teine @sassyhobbits @musicmaam @januarystears @tottenhamboys20 @shyvioletcat @ifinallygavein @maybekindasortaace

#rowaelin smut #rowaelin modern au #rowaelin #acotar x tog crossover #featherywrites #eyes of texas #In Vino Veritas Prequel

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bokutosworld · 4 years

Text

setsunai | oikawa tooru

setsunai. [noun, japanese]. a complicated sadness that painfully creeps through the heart.

pairing: oikawa tooru x f!reader

wc: 2.5k words, established relationship, falling out, purely angst. (lil bit of fluff in the flashbacks which are italicized!)

summary: oikawa knows all good things come to an end, but the both of you are not yet ready, still holding on to that string that is keeping you together.

no one really gets a warning when their relationship is on the edge of falling apart. like the first time you saw oikawa in the hallways of aoba johsai and got your breath taken away, you just woke up one day and knew.

it was the morning of his departure for the team's one-week training camp. still on the bed wrapped under the cozy covers, you heard rustling inside the room as he was opening drawers, taking clean clothes and packing them in his luggage. a scowl was on his face and he was scoffing as he rushed all over the place. you think his bad mood was possibly due to the fact that he woke up earlier than usual to go to the airport.

'what time will you be leaving on wednesday,' you ask him, voice devoid of any emotion, over dinner last week. now that he was a professional volleyball player, moments like this - seated together at the table and enjoying homecooked meals were rare - and though you were mostly used to spending not much time together, you couldn't help but get disheartened every time he told you he was leaving.

oikawa sighs, running a hand to smooth the creases on his forehead as he answers, 'fuck, i forgot about that.' he fishes his phone from his pockets and checks his schedule. 'our flight's at six-thirty in the morning.'

you nod in understanding and offer, 'want me to help pack your things in advance? how long will you be gone this time?' he seems to ease at your suggestion and reaches to bring your hands over his lips, 'i'd appreciate that a lot, babe. i'd also need you to wake me up too, wouldn't want miss it. it's only for a week, i'll be back before you know it.' he winks and you break out in comfortable laughter, something that you haven't done in a long while.

it was as if your adrenaline levels shot up as you scrambled to get up and assist oikawa. the clock read 4:25 am and you can feel his panic. seeing that he was still in his sleepwear, you moved to place your hand over his shoulder, 'go wash up and change your clothes. i'll finish here.' but he swatted you away, albeit rather harshly that your sleepiness left. he exhales and lowers his head before muttering an apology for his action and leaves you to take care of his things.

it only took 20 minutes for you to organize and gather all that he needs in the bag. you waited for him in the living room, sipping a cup of hot cocoa to calm your nerves before apologizing. mentally, you were kicking yourself for forgetting to arrange his belongings and you already knew that he was disappointed. heck he had every right to be mad at you now, but you know he was restraining himself.

when he emerges all prepped and ready to go, you stand and give his bag. his passport was in your hands, together with the tickets, just to make sure he won't lose them. oikawa grabs and places them on the pocket inside his coat and as you were about to say you were sorry, he turns and makes a beeline to the door. he walks out of the room, no goodbyes, no kisses, no see you laters. and you were struck with the scary thought if he would still return to your home.

'i miss you, tooru,' you cry out to him over the phone. oikawa laughs and mimics your voice, 'i miss you too, y/n.' he thinks that he has never been this in love before. sure, he had his fair share of flings but, as cliche as it would sound, he knows you were different. though you were a year his junior, you were the only one who gets him and was willing to standby his side - through sunshine and rainy days, through wins and losses, through sickness and health.

he remembers your nearing college graduation. 'i wish you could be here next week. i want you next to me when i receive my diploma,' he swears his heart drops at your confession. 'me too, y/n. i know how hard you've worked for that,' he smiles even though you cannot see it. the past four years of long distance relationship - oikawa being in argentina and you in japan - was definitely not easy. but somehow, it worked, thanks to the constant calls and messages sent. despite the time difference, oikawa made sure to be there for you when your thesis mates were giving you hell, to stay up with you when you were writing your papers or reviewing for exams.

'i mean it when i say that i couldn't have done it with you, tooru. you're my anchor and you've been keeping me steady in this rocky life,' you sweetly declared. 'just wait patiently, sweetheart. i'll be there before you know it.' you thought it was one of his jokes, words that he would say to put your worried mind at ease. so you were certainly not expecting to see him standing at the door of the auditorium, holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers, as you received your diploma on stage. as soon as the program ended, you ran up to him and oikawa braced himself for a hug. when you pulled away, oikawa immediately brought his hands to wipe your tears and said the one thing you've been waiting to hear, 'i'm home.'

you hear the door open, followed by heavy footsteps dragging its way to the living room. usually, his arrival would be accompanied by his declaration, 'y/n, i am home!', and you would drop whatever you were doing to welcome him with open arms. but today, the both of you were greeted by silence. oikawa knows you were probably working in the bedroom and as much as he missed you, he settles down on the couch and drifts off to sleep.

oikawa didn't like fights, he learned from his parents that one should never sleep on an argument which was how he found himself on your front gate and pressing the doorbell to your house. he was anxious, remembering the pained look on your face when he lashed out at you. he was well-aware that you were only looking out for him, so as soon as he said those hurtful words and saw you running away, he wanted nothing more than to fix what he has done.

'what are you doing here,' you said as soon as you opened the gate. 'go home, tooru, it's late and you shouldn't-.' oikawa pulls you to his chest, a tight hold keeping you from moving away. 'i'm sorry, babe. i don't know what took over me, but i wouldn't say those again, forgive me.' wrapping your hands around him, you release a breath you didn't know you were holding and say, 'okay.' you pull away and bring your hands to his face, squishing him and he pouts. 'i don't want you overworking yourself. you're already working hard enough, i just want to remind you to take it easy sometimes.' and as he looks deep into your eyes that night, he thinks about what he could have done in his past life to deserve someone like you.

oikawa comes to his senses when he feels a warm blanket being put over him. opening his eyes, he catches glimpse of your shadow moving in the dark and reaches out to grab your hand. feeling his touch on yours, you crouch down beside the sofa and push away the hair that has fallen over his face. 'do you need anything,' you ask. he knows he should say something, an apology, an assurance that everything was okay. but if he was being honest, the past few months has been different. the shared home which has been his safe haven has been feeling less and less of an oasis to him. the relationship, he feels, to be something he was doing out of an obligation, of a years-long promise he couldn't dare break. so he keeps quiet and you return to work.

for weeks following that night, things have never been the same. breakfasts are shared in complete utter silence, car rides when he would drop you at the office have been filled with ambient music. no more cheeky texts and random funny images popping in your inbox at random times of the day. like a plane making its descent at its destination, it seems as if your relationship has reached its breaking point and the story that you thought would have a happily-ever-after has made a turn for the worse.

after work, you make a trip to the supermarket and grab ingredients for oikawa's favorite dish. you still held hope and want to try mending things before they become truly irreparable. but that evening, he went home late. he sees you sitting on the dining room drinking the half-empty bottle of wine, the table neatly arranged with plates with his favorite food at the center. 'have you eaten? i made this for you.'

his heart aches at the sight of you, sadness glossing over your eyes and the forced smile you were wearing. he's always felt grateful whenever you would cook, knowing that it wasn't your strong suit. he always treasured moments when he could enjoy your food, however right now, he feels anything but that. 'why are you still up? i texted you i'd be home late,' he mutters, immediately making his way to clear the table. 'you shouldn't have bothered to do this.' he takes the drink you were holding, 'and stop drinking too much.'

as soon as he finishes cleaning, he walks to the bedroom but what you say makes him stop in his tracks. 'can we talk?' his mind and heart races, already knowing what you wanted to discuss. but he wasn't ready and in your intoxicated state, he thought you couldn't handle the results of the conversation. 'tomorrow morning. you're drunk tonight, nothing good would come out of it.'

however, you follow him, wrapping your hands around his wrists to make him stop. 'you're not the person i know anymore,' he hears. slowly, oikawa turns around and he sees wet tears threatening to spill from your eyes. 'why haven't you been speaking to me, tooru. these days, i see you, i think about you, but you're not my person anymore.'

there was no going out of this now, oikawa thought. like waves breaking the shore, the ending was fast approaching and he wonders if there was any way to soften the blow. so he pulls you close to him. the both of you lost in the embrace as if you were savoring the last few moments of warmth together. no one speaks and oikawa is scared that if he does, he would just break you.

'tooru,' you were now weeping. 'say something, please.'

he doesn't know where to begin. he can't bring himself to say that time wasn't on your side, that his volleyball career was taking off and it was getting hard to see you anymore. after all, he thought that being busy was just a lame excuse since the two of you made it through high school and university. how can he phrase that he thought love was enough but lately, he had nothing left to give you anymore.

'is there another person?' you ask, but oikawa was quick to say no. he cups your face, thumbs grazing over your cheeks to erase the tears. 'there is no one else.' he presses his forehead to yours, eyes closing as he takes a deep breath, it's just... it's not the same anymore.'

he continues, 'you are the best thing to happen in my life, y/n. i could never betray you like that.' you look at him, eyes asking the question why. 'i got selfish. in the process of improving myself and focusing in my career, i lost sight of you. i haven't been able to take care of you, to give what you deserve, to give you the world.'

'and the worst part was that i saw this coming.' he moves to sit on the couch, face hidden in his hands. 'i knew one day i'd hurt you but i still kept you around. and i am sorry.' this time, you sit beside him, turning his body to face you, 'all those years, it was my decision to stay. so please, don't give up on us now.'

'are we really doing this? are we moving in together,' you were excited, standing in the middle of the empty condo and already imagining the many memories that you and oikawa would create and cherish. he sneaks in from behind, snuggling his face to your neck. 'hmm, we are doing this. but only for a while, when we become married, i'll buy us a house.' you hum in approval, 'with backyard and pool?' oikawa chuckles and pecks your cheek, 'yes, with backyard and pool.' he twirls you around and brings your faces closer, 'your wish is my command.' you smile and close the gap, putting your lips on his to mark the important day.

was this really the finish line? in the very apartment where you made promises and envisioned a future together, is this where seven years of happiness will end? that was the agonizing thought plaguing yours and oikawa's mind right now.

'we'll only end up hating each other if we continue this,' he speaks up after minutes of eerie silence and you couldn't help but laugh dryly. he always had a strong resolve and it was ripping you apart how there was nothing to be done to make him change his mind. so you stand up, knees almost giving way at the thought of leaving him, 'alright. i'll sleep over at my cousin's then.'

he looks up at you, gaze burning deep to your soul, 'no, i'll leave.' but you push him down and snap, 'oikawa tooru, stay. i'll go, i can't bear to spend the night here. it will only break me more.' oikawa sees you to the door, though you argued that there was no need for such gesture. 'i'll go here in the morning when you're at practice to get my stuff.'

'i'm really sorry, y/n.' you shush him, smiling a bit to hide the fact that your heart was currently shredding to pieces.

you try to lighten the mood, 'i really want to get away from you right now.' oikawa chuckles along with you. 'it hurts, tooru. but i'm glad we had the chance to be together. thank you for the memories you have given me. i will continue to wish for your success. make me proud.' and with one last kiss goodbye, you walk away, leaving a piece of you with him and you wonder if things can ever get better from here.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuucreations #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa scenarios #oikawa angst #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fics #haikyuu oikawa tooru #oikawa x you #pls i dont even know why i wrote this #all i know is i wanted angst and this happened sksksks #angst dialogues are so hard i try pls forgive me

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ickle-ronniekins · 4 years

Text

duet | see you soon then

DUET MASTERLIST

NOTE FOR ALL READERS: this is an installment of a series. the masterlist for a catch-up is linked above. this particular chapter is to fall between [im]mature and silky smooth. thanks!

desc: things had been a bit rocky when the twins told you they were leaving hogwarts before graduation. you’d been so hellbent and obsessed on spending time with george that you’d sort of neglected fred. emotions are running high, but the three of you fall into a comfortable routine and suddenly you’re bursting at the seams with happiness. but since it’s finally time for them to leave, you have absolutely no luck in trying to suppress your tears. they’re making their dreams come true, so why is it so damn hard to say goodbye right now?

a/n: yo! sorry its been a while. school has been kicking my ass and also I genuinely had no inspiration to write this chapter. it was actually supposed to look a little different which is what I think was evidently holding me back. but leeann’s the best and has been incredibly patient with me as I worked through my writer’s block and we bounced ideas off of one another. i..... am so sorry for this. full masterlist is linked above, loves.

word count: 3.4k

warning(s): just sadness bc boys are leaving :(

Things had been… tense, to say the least. Your arguments with both of your best mates had caused quite a bit of discomfort between you all. And not to mention that the Easter holidays were rapidly approaching, which only seemed to speed up the pounding in your chest.

You’d been making progress, though, coming around to the idea of finishing school without them. What an incredible opportunity this was for them, wasn’t it? While your feelings of dread and sadness were still very much prominent, you couldn’t help but be bursting at the seams with pride, too.

They were damn brilliant individuals and it was about time more people recognized that, right?

It still didn’t lessen the pain in your heart, though. It only seemed to elevate it. But you supposed, you’d only learn to grow from it.

The three of you had fallen into a somewhat comfortable routine. Spending lots of time with one another -- you’d also been very conscious about how much time you spent chasing after George. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself any further than you already had. Plus, you’d sadly forgotten how lovely it was to be with just Fred -- he was your absolute best mate, after all, and while yes, there had been times when the two of you had very angrily bumped heads, it only made your friendship that much stronger. You owed it to him. You owed it to yourself.

And you’d taken to spending more time with the Gryffindors too, when that ghastly toad look-a-like of a woman wasn’t around. What she didn’t know wouldn’t kill her. They were your friends, too, after all -- Ginny, Ron, Harry, Hermione, Neville -- the lot of them. And by the light of the common room fire reflecting in Fred’s eyes, and the very bright grin George had painted onto his face nearly every evening, you were pretty certain they were genuinely happy to have you there.

“What’s this one?”

“Ah -- an extension of our latest and greatest inventions, Y/N,” Fred beamed, examining his own creation as he twirled it in his fingers, “Wildfire Whizbangs.”

“You mean you’ve created something even bigger than those blasted fireworks you’d let loose in the courtyard a few weeks ago?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’re about to set the bloody Great Hall on fire -- I’ve got exams coming up, you know.”

George laughed and pulled out yet another wildly vibrant colored whizbang from their trunk. “Can’t make any promises.”

You’d been spending so much time in their common room, in fact, that people had just ended up making you an honorary Gryffindor. You did miss yours, though -- the warmth hues of the yellow lining, the cozy armchairs near the fire with books next to it stacked so high they touched the ceiling, the tiny, potted plants on the windowsill. You were placed in Hufflepuff after all, so it was only normal that you’d miss the coziness of your own spot.

You couldn’t help it, though. You found yourself with your friends until the late hours of the evening, and sometimes you’d ever crash in the girls’ dormitory in Gryffindor tower because it was far too late to even attempt to sneak back down to your own common room, and the boys didn’t want you to risk getting into some type of trouble. Who’d have thought? The Kings of Mischief, worried about you getting into trouble. The irony was wonderfully funny.

You’d even found yourself working less and less on your assignments, just to spend time with them. It was, truthfully, the closest the three of you had been since you’d met. Absolutely nothing could squash your happiness.

Until you realized one evening when you were pulling on your silk pyjamas and thinking about how good things had been, that you had exactly one week left with them. One week. Seven days. Most of which would be spent studying for exams.

Some type of knot shot up into your throat and you found that your eyes had begun to water more so than normal. Sometimes, you couldn’t quite believe the effect this was having on you.

And so you swallowed down your feelings and forced yourself to sleep, hoping that the next day, you wouldn’t think about the limited time you had left with them before they fled school, but only about just how much you enjoyed your time with them.

-- -

“Please don’t cry. If you cry, I’ll cry, and I’m a bloody ugly crier.”

You knew that Fred was doing his best to make you laugh. He always had a particular knack for making you burst out into giggles at the most inappropriate of times. But even so, the mischievous glimmer in his eye and the lopsided grin on his face couldn’t make you laugh. Not this time.

You’d sort of distanced yourself this last week. Not purposefully, mind you, but because there was studying to be done. You had exams, didn’t you? And the boys needed to pack all of their belongings for their adventure into adulthood. It sounded so silly when you thought about it. But it also sent a soul-crushing feeling straight through your body.

You hated crying in front of them. Sure, you were a bit dramatic at times, but you tried your absolute hardest not to break down in front of them if you could help it. But this was different, you reckoned. This was them leaving with a permanence that could not be undone. This was goodbye… for now.

“I -- I’m just --” your voice sounded raspy and weak, like someone was gripping your vocal cords and strangling them. You watched through blurred vision as Fred’s lower lip began to wobble, and he bit down on it to keep you from noticing. But you noticed. Of course you did. How could you not? You knitted your brows together to keep the tears from falling, but your emotions were far too high for anything to work. You searched desperately for the words that were filling up your heart, though were proving very difficult to leave your lips. “I’m.. I’m really…”

And Fred, who found himself sometimes turning to mush around you, let his shoulders collapse as tears welled up in his eyes, too. He couldn’t believe they were really doing this -- really leaving. Hogwarts had been their home away from home for so many years, and you, the second sister he didn’t know he needed.

When he spoke, his voice didn’t have the usual cheeky sound to it, that mischievous tone you grew to know and love so much. It was soft, and tired, and pleading with you to please not be angry. You could hear it in the way that he said, “I know,” before pulling you into his chest. He interwove his fingers in your hair and pressed his lips to your forehead before sucking in a breath. You tugged gently on the drawstring hanging from his sweatshirt. It was hard to stay mad at either of them. You forced your eyes shut and bit down hard on your bottom lip, causing you to suck in another breath due to the pain. You felt your heart snap perfectly in half when you heard his voice shake a bit. “I’m really going to miss you, too.”

That was one of the most intimate moments you’d ever shared with Fred, letting each other cry into one another’s shoulders. The vulnerability hanging in the air between you both was so intense, it almost didn’t seem real. But as quickly as this new side of Fred had appeared, it vanished when he pulled away from you and held onto your shoulders to steady you. He sniffled a bit and tried to nonchalantly wipe away a tear from his eye. “But you’re coming to visit, yeah? First thing after graduation?”

“Of course,” you playfully swatted him with the sleeve of your robe. “Have got to make sure you two don’t find yourselves in any mischief, right?”

Fred threw his head back and laughed. “Great thing about our shop is that mischief is more than welcomed, darling.”

You both continued to laugh through tears, until everything became still and silent between you both. You bit down on your bottom lip again and repeated the address back to him very slowly. “Number 93 Diagon Alley.”

“Number 93 Diagon Alley,” he echoed you. His grin was so large, you began to see traces of that thirteen-year-old boy you’d first met all those long years ago. He was so excited, wasn’t he? You felt a pull at your heart. And you were so excited for them. “I love you, kid. Don’t forget to write, and definitely don’t forget to study. Molly Weasley would be so disappointed.”

He pulled you in for another hug before making his way down the corridor. You folded your arms across your chest and raised an eyebrow. “You? The King of avoiding schoolwork at all costs is actually telling me to study?”

“What can I say?” Fred shrugged his shoulders. Your best mate. Your best mate in the entire world, known for his pranks and laughter and everything in between was pointing a finger at you and telling you to get a jump start on your school work, like he’d done a complete one-eighty. “You just bring out this side of me.”

“I love you, you absolute git.”

“I love you more.”

Your breathing intensified as he vanished down the corridor.

“Wow,” you heard a voice from behind you, “can’t believe you somehow got my brother to tell you to study. What has the world come too?”

When you whirled around to come face to face with George, his face was an exact carbon copy of Fred’s -- but his sparkling eyes and lopsided grin made your insides twist in a way that Fred’s didn’t. All you wanted to do was run up to your dorm and cry, thinking about the entirety of your schooling where you could’ve been wrapped up in his arms if he’d just felt the same way. But that wouldn’t help you in any way. You had to be thankful for what you had.

“It definitely won’t be the same with you two gone.”

You couldn’t help it -- the words escaped you before you could register your own thoughts. You could see George’s expression fill with guilt, something that had been happening more often than not, so you offered him a tremendous grin that split your face in half, despite the tears that were falling generously now. You stuck your hand out to pull him into you. “I hope you know how proud I am of you both.”

He breathed a sigh of relief, took your hand in his and walked toward you. He pulled you into a bone crushing embrace, one you’d definitely feel the effects of a few days from now. He cradled your head in his hand the exact same way Fred did, and also placed a kiss onto your hair, but the way your blood bubbled at his touch was so very different from the way you felt with your best friend.

“I just want to thank you.”

“For what?”

“For.. everything.” George’s voice was raspy. He pulled away from you but didn’t let go. He slid his hands across your shoulders and down your arms before intertwining his fingers with yours. He slowly caressed his thumbs over the tops of your hands as he chose his words carefully. “For being my best friend, for believing in this ridiculous idea, for dealing with my antics. For everything, all of it. I reckon Hogwarts would not have been the same had I not met you in Charms.”

“It was my favorite lesson, you know.”

“Mine, too.”

You forced yourself to continue to smile at him through your tears, because you didn’t want you blubbering like an idiot to be the last thing he’d see before leaving the castle. As if this entire exchange hadn’t been dramatic enough, you were really considering telling him how you felt -- right as he left. You could shout out I love you!, couldn’t you? It would be the perfect time, too, because he’d already be off and you could run up to your dormitory without worrying about having to face him or your own intense feelings! The words were right there, on the tip of your tongue --

“Save a pygmy puff for me, yeah?”

But those were the words that spoke instead.

George raised his eyebrows and held up a finger. “Oh! That reminds me. Have got something for you.” You threaded your eyebrows together in confusion as he reached into his pocket. He very gently pulled out a ribbon, the colour a perfect blend of purple and pink, same as the puffs, with sparkles dancing across it as if it were charmed. Which, knowing George, it probably was. He fiddled with it slightly in his hands before looking up to meet your gaze. “You’ve inspired us. Got a whole line of these things in the works. So I want you to do me a favour.”

Your voice was a whisper. You’d nearly forgotten how to formulate coherent sentences. “What?” you asked him.

He then took a very deep breath and reached out to move your hair. He gently placed the ribbon behind your ears and tied it into a small bow on the top of your head. “When you’re feeling poorly about your exams, or about finishing school, or about anything, because I know you will -- put this on. Think of us. And just remember that we’re only a letter away until graduation, alright?”

As he watched more tears well up in your eyes, he considered telling you the truth: that it had been him this whole time, sending you these letters and gifts. It’d been him since the beginning, he’d just been too afraid to tell you. He wet his lips and watched as you brought your fingers to the ribbon and touched it gently. He was going to do it, it was time. Probably a few years too late, but he couldn’t worry about that now. He was leaving in five bloody minutes, and he had to seize his chance, when the vulnerability was thick and the emotions were high and he wasn’t going to chicken out completely --

But just as he found his confidence, Fred softly called his name from round the bend before disappearing again. You threw your arms around the back of George’s neck and stood on the tips of your toes to hug him. There was no mistaking the sound of your wobbly voice in his ears -- you were crying fully now. “I’m going to miss you.”

If his emotions weren’t sky high, he would’ve noticed just how easily the tears came to the front of his eyes at your simple, five word phrase.

“I’m going to miss you, too.”

He wished it could be yesterday, or the day before. Or last month. Or last year. He wanted to be back in Charms in your third year. He wished he could go back in time, any amount of time, just to have more with you, because this couldn’t possibly be the end. It couldn’t be.

Through sniffles and sobs and the cracks in your voice, he swore he heard you say, “I love you.”

Fire shot through his veins, but bloody hell, he didn’t have time to unload all of that. Fred was calling his name again. “I love you, too.”

George pressed his lips to your hairline and stayed there like that for a few more seconds you wished could last a lifetime. You didn’t even bother trying to hide your tears anymore -- they were cascading down your cheeks, and violent sobs were involuntarily escaping from your overused lungs. Every single ounce of your body hurt due to all of the crying you’d been doing the last couple of days. It felt so stupid and so dramatic and so absolutely awful, because the truth was, it was only a couple of months until you saw them again. Until you saw him again. A few months was nothing.

But the idea of being here without them hurt more than you could begin to fathom.

When he pulled away, you noticed how red and blotchy his cheeks were alongside his bloodshot eyes, his messy hair. But you beamed at him again and squeezed his hand and said, “Congratulations,” and watched him as his fingers let go of yours and he walked toward the other end of the corridor.

“Hey,” you called, thinking of something. George spun around quickly and peered longingly at you. You just needed a few more seconds or so. “How’re you two getting out of here, anyway? You know Umbridge has all the entrances sealed. You think it’s going to work, whatever you two’ve got planned?” There was a sliver of selfishness that hoped it didn’t, but you suppressed it. You were overflowing with pride for your best friends.

And then there he was -- that young boy filled with adventure and reckless abandon, looking at you as if only seeing you for the very first time. His grin deepened when he replied, “Don’t worry -- it’s in typical Weasley fashion.” He stopped in his tracks and placed his hands in his pockets, and peered at you with a type of intense sincerity that made every muscle in your body ache all over again. “I’ll see you soon, then?”

Your lip quivered again. “Yeah,” you replied, willing yourself to believe it. You would. “I’ll see you soon, then.”

You shook your head at him and watched as he disappeared around the bend, but not before that signature wink he loved to offer.

About thirty minutes later, after you’d had a good cry and rinsed the runny mascara off of your cheeks and from underneath your eyes, you heard a bit of yelling from inside the castle. You were sitting in the courtyard basking in the glorious spring weather, forcing yourself to focus on what you needed to study, when a group of students began to huddle near the windows.

Confused, you shut your spellbook and wandered over to where they were gathered, wondering what the bloody hell could be going on inside. Weren’t the fifth years supposed to be taking their OWLs?

And then two red headed figures zoomed out of the castle on their broomsticks, followed by a firework dragon the size of the real dragon Harry had fought just last year, with more sparklers and pyrotechnics behind them brightening up the sky. Students flooded into the courtyard and cheers were nearly shaking the whole entire structure of the castle. You looked around at all of the students, beaming with exuberance, and wondered just how many of the Wildfire Whizbangs had gotten caught in Umbridge’s hair, setting it aflame. You smiled to yourself and began to clap, too.

For as blue as you felt, you were ten times happier for them.

George and Fred were now hovering in the air beneath a very large firework in the shape of a ‘W’. Fred was busy cheering along with the crowd, clearly pleased with the feedback from all of the students -- and even some teachers. Was that Flitwick he spotted below? Had he made his Charms teacher proud?

But George wasn’t cheering -- he was focused. Focused on scanning the crowd, focused on bouncing his eyes from student to student until he found the familiar one he was looking for.

“You alright, Georgie?” Fred called over the roar of the dragon, now swimming through the clouds.

“Yeah,” George replied, though he didn’t fully believe it -- not until he saw you, in the middle of a sea of Ravenclaws, peering up at the two of them with nothing but admiration plastered onto your face. George breathed another sigh of relief and didn’t take his eyes off of you. He couldn’t. “Yeah, I’m alright.”

“To new adventures!” Fred cheered and raised his hands in delight. More students began to scream and cheer and wave to them from the grounds. He proceeded to do a backflip on his broomstick in the air.

When your eyes met his from below, he watched as your smile slowly grew a bit larger and your clapping became more exuberant. He could already count down the bloody days until you were finished with school and walking through the front doors of their shop, a grin on your face so large it could cure diseases! But for now, you had to study, and he had a business to run.

He turned toward his brother, who had never looked more excited or proud in all his years. George stuck out his hand for a high-five as he wobbled slightly on his broom. To Fred, George replied, “To new adventures, mate.”

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#george weasley #fred weasley #fred and george weasley #weasley twins #george weasley x reader #george weasley reader insert #george weasley imagine #george weasley fanfic #george weasley fanfiction #weasley twins imagine #weasley twins imagines #fred and george weasley imagines #weasley twins fanfiction #weasley twins fanfic #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction

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witchcraft-in-wonderland · 4 years

Text

Potions and Princes (Pt.1)

-------------------------

Virgil never really had much talent, at least not where his family was concerned. His brother Logan was the brightest witch their teachers had ever met, his mother the most beautiful, and his father the most powerful.

And then there was Virgil, utterly useless and utterly pathetic at any and all magical endeavours.

He wasnt even sure he should still be at the boarding school for witches in training, he'd barely passed his entrance exams, Logan always told him that he was better at magic than he gave himself credit for, but Virgil never really believed him.

"I'm telling you Lo, they're gonna kick me out any day now! You graduate next year and then there's nothing stopping them from doing it!" Virgil said, spread out across the couch in the common room.

"Virgil, they're not going to kick you out just because I'm not here, you've been performing magic perfectly well for a sixteen year old witch, and you've still got five years left to improve," Logan said, twirling his wand in his hand and watching the blue and pink waves emanating from the end of it.

"That's easy for you to say, you've never had a problem getting a spell to work or a potion to mix correctly," Virgil said, pouting slightly.

"I think you're perfectly attentive with potions," Logan replied, spinning his wand in a quick circle to cancel the spell and putting it back in his pocket.

"Clearly you've never actually watched me make a potion," Virgil replied, grimacing.

"Well, you have some of the highest potion marks you can get, so clearly you must be doing something right," Logan continued.

Virgil paused for a few seconds, fidgeting with the hem of his black skirt.

"Can we talk about something else. . ." Virgil said finally.

"Of course," Logan said, sitting down next to Virgil and moving so Virgil's head was resting in his lap.

"How'd that meeting about your top surgery spell go?" Virgil said.

"Swimmingly," Logan said, a grin spreading across his face.

Logan and Virgil were similar in a lot of ways, but they were also very different. Whereas Virgil could go ages without a hair cut, wear skirts, and didnt mind not having his binder on, Logan wouldnt be caught dead dressed femininly, Virgil liked the darker aspects of magic, those made Logan shudder just to read about, Virgil laughed at just about anything, it took a very well times joke to get Logan to laugh, Logan had a loving boyfriend named Emile, and Virgil was so undesirable that not even a toadstool would've chanced him.

"That's good, how do you feel?" Virgil asked.

"Its a little sore, but it wouldve been like that without magic to," Logan answered

"I'm just glad your happy," Virgil said, smiling.

"Have you written to mom and dad yet?" Logan said.

"No. . ." Virgil replied. It wasnt that he didnt like exchanging letters with his parents, but they always wanted to talk about his classes and his marks, never how he was feeling or if he'd made any friends.

Granted, Virgil hadn't made any friends, he was just as lonely now as he had been when he started attending the school at age six.

But none of that was helped by his status in relation to the most famous family of witches in the millennia.

Roman Prince-Duke and Remus Duke-Prince were the most coveted pair of twins from the moment they made their availability known. Within the year Remus had found himself smitten with one Patton Boleyn, but Roman was still very much available.

Not that it mattered since he practically hated Virgil's guts. He'd glare at Virgil when he walked into the room, whisper about him when Virgil thought he wasnt listening, and would absolutely lose his mind if they had to work together.

So Virgil had given up hope of being noticed positively by the handsome prince, because Roman had made it very clear where he stood on Virgil's existence.

Virgil awoke the next morning twice as exhausted as he'd been when he went to bed. This was of course, perfectly normal form him, he never got sleep, that was just how he worked.

He checked the schedule on the side of his bed and felt his heart sink as he read his first class of the day, dueling.

Virgil was a complete disaster when it came to duels, he couldnt focus enough to get any spells to work right and he was always so busy thinking about spells that he never remembered to block them.

The sinking feeling in his chest was only amplified once he read over his partner for today's duel. Roman, of course it had to be Roman. Roman with the smile that could stun better than any form of magic, Roman with the brain that could come up with a new spell within seconds, Roman that could block any attack with a flick of his wrist.

Virgil began mentally preparing his will as he walked inside the building.

"I cant duel with him! Are you sure theres no way to change the pairings?" Virgil froze as he overheard Roman's voice talking to the instructor, he sounded scared, maybe even upset. But Virgil just assumed he was imagining things and moved on.

He barely paid attention to the other duels until his name was called, only then did he finally look up to the stage.

He felt numb as he stepped up to the center, and even worse as he watched Roman approach from the other end. He wanted to curl up in his overly-large sweater and disappear into the abyss.

"On my count, the duel will begin in five!" Virgil's grip on his wand tightened.

"Four!" He watched as Roman dug his feet into the wood.

"Three!" Dear gods why was he smirking? Did he have to be smirking?

"Two!" Virgil tried to keep himself focussed.

"One!" A flash of light, sparks, and then it all disappeared.

And in the center of the smoke, was a small, red and white, frog.

Oh gods oh gods oh gods nonononono please tell me someone else did that nonononono this cant be happening- Virgil's mind was racing as he watched the teachers rush over to what had been Roman mere seconds ago. He wanted to run, he heard yelling, angry yelling, he felt things being thrown, heard people getting their wands out.

The teachers made quick work of getting Roman back to normal, and Virgil had rushed out of the room almost as soon as he saw the shock on Roman's face.

"Virgil!-" Roman called after him, but Virgil was already rushing across the grounds back to his dorm, he didnt need to hear anything else about what a horrible witch he was, and he certainly didnt want to risk getting cursed.

He was so busy rushing off in fact, that he barely noticed the figure watching from the tallest tower of the school.

----------------------------------------------

Tag list:

@meowthefluffy

@willowaudreykeyes

@thefivecalls

@nerosdayinhell

@thecolorfulolive

@melodiread

@frog-candy-bee

@frawkeye

@cemmy

@teamplutoforlife

@pricklyfish777

#cori writes #potions and princes au #long post #ts patton #ts remus #ts virgil #ts logan #ts sides #ts roman #ts emile #moduke #romantic moduke #intruality #romantic intruality #prinxiety #romantic prinxiety #lomile #romantic lomile #tw panic attack

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haikyuuwaifu · 4 years

Text

Selfish

Kuroo x Reader x Kenma

MASTERLIST

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warning: Angst, swearing, implied sexual acts

MASTERLIST

PART IV:

The second time:

Third year was a time of stress, college, and change. Kuroo knew from the time he was in his third year of middle school, that he wanted to leave Japan for college. He had never been anywhere outside of his home country. As laid back as he was, he busted his ass to keep up with his grades. Sure, he partied and had a good time; but he ensured he did well so he could apply to schools like Yale and Harvard. His hope was to get accepted into Harvard. He had heard from former Nekoma graduates that parties in America were wild and he wanted in. Harvard offered a great business program so he figured he’d kill two birds with one stone. You had no plans to leave Japan. As much as you liked the idea of going with Tetsu across the world, it wasn’t your dream. Aside from the New Years incident the two of you hadn’t had another issue. He stopped going to parties for the rest of that year and you two spent all your free time together or with Kenma. The summer before your third year Kuroo was made captain of the Volleyball club and suddenly all the parties started sprouting up again. As uncomfortable as it made you; you trusted him. He stopped inviting you out to parties and just went out on his own. The start of third year found you building time tables and study material so you could do well and get accepted into Miyagi. Instead of spending time with Tetsu at lunch, you were huddled in the library. After school you were usually at the internet cafe or occupying Kenma’s floor as he gamed. While you were busting your ass Kuroo was living the high life. School had never been difficult for him, so he never really had to try. He spent his lunches talking to the cheerleaders and the other sports captains. He would make sure to text you throughout the day, but more often than not if you didn’t text first; he wouldn’t bother. After practice he would go out with the girls of the volleyball team or the cheer squad. It depended on who got to him first. In his mind, what he was doing was harmless; you were his best girl, but you were never his actual girlfriend. Too bad no one thought to inform you of that fact.

As third year carried on the two of you spent less and less time together. When entrance exams came around you spent an entire week holed up in your room preparing. Kuroo spent the whole week in a different girls bedroom every night.

After the New Years incident the year prior, things were awkward between you and Tetsu. Kenma being caught in the middle asked you what happened. When you explained what happened Kenma only shook his head and carried on with the game he was playing. He didn’t tell you, but that one moment solidified the fact that he just didn’t want anything to do with Kuroo anymore. He only dealt with him during practice and if he had to deal with him on the weekends it was solely because you were there. Any other time he pretended he was busy or ignored any form of contact Kuroo attempted.

While Kuroo decided to party and sleep his way through third year; Kenma was the one who made sure you were eating enough. He learned how to cook and made an extra bento for you every day. He made sure you weren’t overworking yourself and dragged you out of the library after he finds out you’d been sitting in there for hours. Sundays were usually days where you and Kuroo would go out and do something, but with studying and exams; you stayed in and he was hungover. Kenma ended up shutting his games off on Sundays and dragging you all over Tokyo. As much as he hated going out and dealing with people, he didn’t mind going out with you. In the time that he had come to know you, he had grown to see you as someone more than the giver Kuroo liked to take advantage of.

Kuroo, though selfish, wasn’t an oblivious idiot. He knew deep down that if Kenma could he would tell you about what he had been doing. As aloof as Kenma seemed, he had always been a perceptive child. And he knew that Kenma had grown to respect you. Sometimes Kuroo would feel guilty about the things he had done, and the way he had treated you. But more often than not he would forget about it as quickly as the thought came. You were his best girl afterall, you’d never abandon him. He knew you didn’t have social media outside of FB. You never saw the need for it, so he made sure to keep his posts private and vague; just in case Kenma saw something he felt the need to share with you.

Entrance exams came and went. You and Tetsu received your letters and were sitting in his bedroom waiting for the other to open it. He had no idea that you didn’t apply to any schools outside of Japan. You had no idea he only applied to Harvard. You knew what his dream was, but deep down you had hoped that what you had was enough to compromise. Ripping your letters open you both screamed as you received the best news you could possibly hope for. Clutching the letter to your chest you smiled. “I got into Miyagi Tetsu, I got into Miyagi!” He looked at you a little confused. “Miyagi?” he questioned taking the letter and reading it over. “Why would you only apply to schools in Japan?” he asked looking up at you. “I told you, Miyagi was my first choice; I want to be a teacher in the prefecture I grew up in.” You murmur softly folding your hands together. Shaking his head he scoffs. “You can be a teacher anywhere baby, and you can learn anywhere...you were supposed to come to Harvard with me.” taking your hands in his he pulls you closer. “We were supposed to go to the US together. Maybe its not too late for you to a-” cutting off his sentence you pull your hands back and shake your head. “I’m not leaving Japan Tetsu...this has been my dream since I was a child. You should be happy for me.” you declare getting up and placing the letter on your desk. “And what about my dreams? You knew I wanted to go to the US.” he demands standing and facing away from you. Touching his shoulder he shrugs away from you. “Sometimes I wonder who puts more effort into this.”he states making his way towards the door. Opening it he waves his arm, “I need time to think, so you need to go.” You sigh softly, grabbing your bag. You whisper an apology as you make your way to the front door. “I’ll call you when I’m ready to talk [name] I can’t even look at you right now.” he states watching you walk out the front door.

You spent that evening mulling over all the times you and Tetsu had talked about the future. You recalled him mentioning Harvard and going to the US together. You couldn’t help but feel guilty for overriding his opinions. You had spent so little time together this year that you had forgotten. Laying in your bedroom staring at your ceiling your eyes started bristling with tears just waiting to fall. You felt so guilty for pushing him aside. For not communicating your thoughts and opinions. You loved him after all. Neither of you had ever said it, but you felt that you never had to say it. He must have known you loved him. While contemplating whether or not you were actually going to leave Miyagi your phone started ringing. It was Tetsu. You answered immediately and at first all you could hear was loud music in the background. A few seconds later you heard Tetsu talking into the phone. He was drunk and he had called you to pick him up. You spent 15 minutes trying to get a location out of him ignoring the lewd moaning in the background. Hanging up the phone you grabbed your parents car keys and threw your shoes on. Twenty minutes later you made your way to his most recent location. Weaving through the sweaty bodies you looked around trying to find his signature hairstyle. You walked up the stairs knocking on doors. You reached the last door on the left that was slightly open.

Placing your hand on the door you push it open only to drop your keys at the sight of Kuroo, head back, mouth open. His pants are around his ankles and his hands are knotted in a strange girl's hair as she takes him into her mouth. “What the fuck Tetsu!” you screech at him. His eyes snap open, red from the alcohol he ingested before you got there. “Fuck, baby no!” he scrambles to pull his pants up as you grab your keys and make your way down the stairs. Rage and sadness fueling your feet to move to the car before letting your tears fall. He follows you stringing out half drunken apologies. “Baby, no...I’m sorry...fuck I’m sorry.” he sobs falling to his knees gripping the back of your knees as you stand in front of the drivers side door. “Fuck, I’m such a fuck up baby.” he sobs. You try to shake him off but he just grips you tighter. Sobs getting louder he pulls you closer. “Don’t leave me [name].” he begs into your thighs. “I know I’m a fuck up, but please...I can’t do this without you...I can’t have a future without you.” the crack in his voice ebbs your anger slightly. Turning you peer down at him and watch as the tears stream down his face. You sigh softly, and stroke his cheeks. “I can’t do this again Tetsu, I came because you called and that’s what I walked into?” you asked. Pushing his face into your thighs he squeezes softly. “I had too much to drink, I was upset because I want you to come to the US with me.” you stroke his hair softly as he continues to explain his reasonings. “I’m sorry I kicked you out earlier. And I’m sorry I said I didn’t support you.” He mumbles softly. “I want you to be happy, and if going to Miyagi is what makes you happy then...we can do the distance.” You pull him up and snuggle yourself into his chest. “Forgive me baby, I need you. You’re my best girl.” he smiles at you softly stroking your cheek. And with the soft smile you find yourself forgiving him once again.

@dabilove27

PART III|PART V

A/N: Angsty Angst >:]

#kuroo tetsurō #kuroo scenarios #kuroo x reader #kuroo imagine #kenma kozume #kenma x reader #kenma imagines #haikyuu concepts #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu

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ultraqrk-a · 4 years

Text

tw: suicidal thoughts, covid mention, swearing, 'drama'

I didnt want to come to this, yet here I am, making a post about it. last night, it was a mess. i had to stop everything and go lay down at the things that were happening on my dash + discord groups. I'm not even going to edit this post beside the under read more thing because I'm tired of it. my mental health this year was not the best, in fact I'm pretty sure it was the worst year for me since I could remember. now, I dont want people to feel sorry for me because that's literally not the point of the post, I want people to understand why I'm I'm this post and the things that will happen in the future, but either way I'll explain myself because I feel the need to and wont forgive myself if I don't. I'm sorry if this comes out as 'manipulative', but its literally me just opening up:

last night, it was what kicked it for me. seeing friends argue and just spread things across the dash that I really dont want to mention again, since I want to leave it behind; they completely broke me. well, I didnt want to mention it, but that's kind of what triggered me so much, after all. I started to feel bad the moment I felt something was off, and I just had to leave. I tried to calm down and think clearly and not let my emotions get to me because I wanted to help, I wanted to do something other than what I ended up doing. I was talking with friends at the time, in fact, basically only a few people know what I was going through. unfortunately, not to the whole extent, as I was literally already feeling bad for even bothering them with what i thought. that, and it was bad:

this year, I've lost many irl friends, due to covid( not one died, but I meant figuratively ) and the quarantine. we've lost contact completely, but even then I was already losing them due to personal reasons that i wont mention in this post, since they arent really important at the moment. but that's the main reason why I joined the rpc again: to make friends, to not be so alone anymore. and I made friends, met wonderful people in here that I love to talk to whenever I can, or whenever I have energy to. because I'll be honest, I simply am not able to keep up conversations for long anymore, and that's totally my fault. the whole quarantine thing really fucked me up on that matter.

last night seeing people that I care about go so....against each other, let's put it like that, made me literally sick. I threw up my dinner last night to the point that I was throwing up water only. I cried for basically 4 hours straight, because the thought of losing friends and being forced to choose a side was literally fucking me up completely. my mom likes to call me a sponge: because I absorb the energy that is around me, good or bad, and let it out and end up 'cleaning' the place. if that's the case, I hope it helped someone.

I thought about 'unalive' myself in the beginning of quarantine, when my parents divorced and due to their argument and just how big it was. I thought about it again the moment I couldnt pass my exam, therefore not being able to graduate and literally having to deal with the thought that my friends would leave to university and we would fall even more apart. I thought about it again TWO WEEKS AGO when i was almost kicked out. and i really thought about it again last night, because the literal emotional and physical pain and sickness I was passing through and feeling really wasnt worth it. yet, I didnt because I'm too selfless. I thought about my pets, sisters and the rest of my family, and my friends. I was able to calm down enough to think about it clearly, and grabbed my inhaler the moment I felt my asthma kick in- but, without literally apologizing for what I was about to do before. and just the fact that I even saw that as a valid option, for even just a few minutes, it scares me.

I'm too sensitive and emotional for this type of thing, that's just how I am: or maybe I'm just too nice of a person. either way, I cant help it. I'm almost 19, I shouldn't be literally having grey hairs or losing it because of the stress I felt this year. I shouldn't even have to make this post about how I feel, and I clearly shouldnt even have to feel sick as I write this. yet I truly want to know what people think, and again, that's just a part of who I am I guess.

I already am looking for a therapist, have been for the past couple of months. but because of covid, it's been really really hard to find one that wants to take in new clients( some are scared of catching the virus if they gain new ones ) or even in my city in general.

so, with this whole thing I have decided to stay completely neutral. both sides have made valid and bad points, and I'm too tired to care right now- I literally felt sick trying to choose, to the point that I once again thought about something that I'm sure would scare anyone. and I know I inevitably will lose friends one way or another. I'll be remaking everything: my blog, will drop probably most threads, redo my carrd, my discord. just about everything. I need to get rid of what's stressing me out.

my blog, when I remake it, will most likely be friends only, and I'm not even sure I will be up for events for a while at this point. hell, I'm not even sure I want to continue with the hunger games, but I will surely finish this one to try and make everybody happy again. that's the least I can do when last night I couldn't do anything.

I'm really sorry it came to this point, but for once I really need to think about myself first. if you like this post, I'll know you want to stay my friend.

thank you all - sónia.

#suicidal thoughts //#covid mention //#swearing //#drama //

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slightlymore · 4 years

Text

Pride | Part 7

Pairing: Doyoung, Y/N, new character, Johnny cameo Genre: Series | Smut | Angst | Crack | Fluff Warnings: as usual, language, little hand cut, same issues around mental health and unhealthy coping mechanisms, angsty, smutty scenario Words: 5.8K

Just one part to go peeps, Part 8 is going to be the last whoop whoop (I can create conflict and drama every chapter but after a while it’s kinda boring, so let’s end it soon lmao)

The rain was pouring heavily on the roof as if a thousand fingers were tapping on it. You could see it slide down the little cabin’s windows, dragging down tree branches, frightening and beautiful at the same time. It was a cold night but you were feeling so cozy, skin bathed in the yellow hue of the fireplace.

It was loud and scary outside, but you couldn't hear it. Not really. Your mind was foggy and occupied with so many things. It was difficult to express what those things were. But you knew what they formed altogether. Pleasure.

Intense, breathtaking pleasure, traveling from the tip of your curled toes, up to your knees, bringing lust and passion all the way to your head, as a slow caress.

The culprit was Doyoung. Or better, Doyoung’s tongue, while he was holding your thighs so tightly that you were seeing the bruises underneath his fingers. You wanted to see his eyes as well, you wanted to bath in that darkness full of desire, but they were closed. His eyebrows were furrowed as if concentrating and you ruffled the hair on his forehead, to drink in his every expression. When he let go of your clit, a little string of saliva connecting it to his tongue, you whined and arched your back, showing him everything that you wanted. His eyes pierced finally through yours and he smiled. Then those lips, still curved up teasingly, kissed your stomach, painfully slow, rising in a single line, going between your breasts, on your collar bones, on your neck and chin. He brought his hand up to cup your cheeks and rubbed your lower lip with his thumb. You opened your mouth, ready to fall into him, but a little sparkle at the corner of your eye got your attention elsewhere. Looking at his hand you felt your head a little less foggy. You blinked as if hallucinating. Was that a ring? He had no rings, you were sure about it. Why was a ring adorning his finger, but also, why was that fact making you feel so confused and uneasy? "Where did you get that from?", you asked grabbing his hand and analyzing the piece of jewelry. Doyoung looked at the ring first, then at your face with a chuckle. "What are you talking about?", he asked as well. "This is a wedding ring", you explained. Doyoung grinned. "Yes, I can't believe this either, my love". An unpleasant shiver caressed your spine and you already knew before looking. You could feel it. It was cold and secure around your finger as well. Near the other one, with a big stone on it. Your engagement and marriage rings. You gasped as if falling underwater. The corners of your vision started to get dark as blurry stains made it difficult to see. No, no, no, no. You swallowed. The air from your lungs disappeared and even if you tried hard to breathe, nothing came in as your focus shifted. Doyoung wasn’t on top of you anymore. You looked at him and his fiancé from above, the way her hand caressed his back, listening to their whispers and you found yourself panting. Again. No, please, no, stop. Let me alone. Please. I don’t want this. I don’t want it. Your legs kicked the covers and you sat up, hands restless, chin trembling and communicating that you were about to cry. Again. From a stupid dream haunting your nights. _____

You were the first thought that would wake Doyoung up in the morning. The last desire that lulled him to sleep at night. And in that split uncountable moment between consciousness and unconsciousness, he let himself flow. He promised to do it only in those circumstances when his rational side couldn't hold him in his grip. Even if lately he felt himself slowly slipping its hold every second more. Dreaming is only causing you pain, the Rational side would say. Not doing it is going to cause pain anyways, Doyoung would reply. Yes, but the first type of pain is going to end soon, it insisted. How do you know that? Doyoung would ask. I just know, it would get irritated. What if I don't care? Doyoung would inquire again. The Rational side wouldn’t reply as if tired to argue yet again. What if I don't care about anything? Legit nothing in life matters. What if I just do whatever the fuck I want? Future me doesn't exist, does it? Only I do, right now. And right now I just want to fucking dream, alright? The Rational side was judging silently while Doyoung would get worked up by himself, in a pathetic fight. Let me, please, please, just let me dream for a second more. I beg of you. Okay? I beg. Just one second. Then I’ll stop. I promise. Just this time. Please. Please. Please. Doyoung would mumble to himself until finally forced to open his eyes and stare soullessly at the first rays of sun entering his room. Breathless. Ashamed. Defeated. Time’s up. No more dreaming, the Rational side’s little voice would wake up as well. ________ Jealousy was something you didn't want to think about. When Johnny was seeing other people, it felt like a sting in the heart, a little oh forming on your lips. You've made an effort to not let it be a selfish sentiment. I'm not a jealous person, you would say with a proud smile. But the truth was that you were. And after waking up, drenched in your own sweat after being so sure that your dreams were a reality before they could become nightmares, and even worse, fantasy, your chest would boil in pain. In pain and rage. You were so angry. You were so jealous. It was no more a sting, or a little oh, it was a hit in the stomach and a soundless scream. You would walk around to class, taking your exams, eating, talking, and laughing with your friends, but never alone, always with this ugly feeling on your shoulders. You felt jealous, possessive, selfish, hateful. You would alternate thoughts of I have to stop, I can’t change it, I can't be a bad person, with I'm a bad person, so what, I am like that, I feel that, that’s me, until feeling like you were driving yourself into madness. When you shook your rector’s hand, while the other was holding your degree, a few months had already passed after seeing Doyoung’s face for the last time. It felt like decades and a few days at the same time. “This is a new beginning, huh?”, Johnny’s face light up in a bright smile. You looked up at him and a soft fuzzy feeling flooded your chest. If Doyoung’s experience was helpful in some ways, one of it was the fact that you finally sorted out your feelings for your best friend. And he did as well, you could see it in the way his eyes looked free and calm, in the way his voice called your name, in the way he felt sorry for you after you told him everything that happened with Doyoung. It took you both some time, but you did it, and you started to breathe more easily after you saw Johnny’s understanding eyes instead of his previous jealous ones. He also realized that your romantic relationship wasn’t a healthy one and he felt better about himself for a long while giving the fault of your fights to Doyoung, when in reality, deep down, he knew you would have behaved like that towards each other anyways. Smiling back at him, you both linked arms and walked away to where your seats were. “I have good news”, you interrupted the silence, whispering to his ear after you sat down. “You know that company you said were hiring?”, you asked, building tension but unable to hide your smile. Johnny looked down at you with wide eyes. A few days before graduation, Johnny came up to you with the most euphoric expression. “Y/N, please apply to this job”, he slammed a piece of printed paper on your desk. You looked at it, confused, then up at him. “Why?”, you asked. Johnny breathed in as if preparing for the longest monologue of his life. “You must”, he just said though. He was so on the edge, sprinkling happiness like a child, that you found yourself chuckling. “Why don’t you apply to it? We’re graduating the same day. You also need a job”, you commented. Johnny crossed his arms on his chest. “You know I want to take a year off and travel the world. I won’t sit my ass in an office chair from 9 till 5, thank you very much. But you,” he shoved his finger into your face, “you love that kind of job, and this,” he slammed the paper again making you jolt, “it’s the perfect opportunity for you. Trust me. You’ll see. You’ll thank me”, he finished. You laughed and shrugged putting the paper inside your books. “Wait, they accepted you?”, now Johnny asked loudly, several heads in the graduation hall turning to hush you. You waved your hand in front of him as to indicate to keep his voice down. But then you nodded while a little smile forming on your lips. “Fuck!”, Johnny exclaimed. “I am- fuck!”, he just cursed again and hug you tightly. _______ Doyoung never realized it before how you were the reason for his every gesture. Not until you weren't there to hold him up anymore. He wasn't as melodramatic as to say that what he did now was pointless, but it had no real meaning either. Like it didn't have before meeting you. He was getting overwhelmed by everything now, he had no patience, every sound and image and person were unbearable. His thoughts were out of control. “You’re under great stress right now, Doyoung”. Doyoung sighed. Yeah, I know, old man. "It's just", he finally spoke slowly, staring out of that window yet again, "I'm always waiting for something", he added, trying hard to explain his thoughts. The therapist nodded. "It's always-", Doyoung paused again, recollecting himself, "-I always think like, it's going to be over soon, just a little bit. I’m assuring myself that this won’t last long, that it’s going to end. While my hands are itching and I can’t stay still. I am waiting and waiting and looking around for something. But what am I waiting for? Death?", he chuckled bitterly. The man in front of him shook his head with a sigh. He put his notes down and rested his elbows on his knees, eyes piercing over the eyeglasses frames. "The answer is - life, Doyoung”. Doyoung jerked his head towards the man as if someone punched him in the face. “You're not waiting for things to be over. You're waiting for things to start". ________ Your limbs were shaking and your throat was completely closed off not letting you even to swallow, as you clasped your hands together, playing with your fingernails. You had to explain to the guards why you had no pass to enter the building yet, then to explain what were you doing there, then you had to wait for a young girl, the HR director’s secretary, to take you to her boss - a woman with a dry smile on her face. “You have arrived at the right moment”, the young secretary smiled at you kindly while taking you through the company corridors, giving you a short tour. The place wasn’t just big. It was humongous. You were in the marketing wing at that moment, with an open mouth, in shock while passing near the windows seeing how tall the building actually was, while the secretary was about to tell you at which desk you will be spending the next few years of your life. This, if they don’t fire you sooner. “Really? What does that mean?”, you asked politely, entering the office. A few people raised their eyes from the computer, most didn’t, some of them were discussing between themselves, some of them were yelling into their phones before slamming it on the desk. Great, you sighed. Looks inviting. “Tonight there’s a company party. It’s going to be a great occasion to get to know your colleagues. When there are alcohol and music, they all loosen up a lot”, she winked at you as if telling a secret. You smiled back grateful for her being the first person you had the pleasure to meet and not some random rude one. Then you sat down after she introduced you to the department manager, who promptly left you alone talking about being very busy in the same second the secretary left as well. The evening approached fast as you spent the whole day trying to understand how the phone line worked, how to use the computer efficiently, what your first tasks were. You had to learn most of those things alone as the people you had to shadow were “too busy to babysit someone right now”. You sighed. You kinda knew it was going to be like this so you weren’t that surprised. Getting into such a big company right after graduating university was a big deal and you weren’t about to whine but you still hoped that after that night you’d have at least one new friend. At least someone to talk to you and that would want to answer your questions. It took you a lot of effort to go back to your new small apartment after the exhausting day, to shower, to try to find something appropriate to wear to a party, but a classy one, but still, a party, to put on makeup again, to do your hair, then to come back to the company building, all before 9 pm. When you got out of the taxi, you were already sweating, heels pierced by the high heels, spirit crushed and mind absolutely ready to go to bed already. You didn’t really like parties in the first place, even during your university days, but you still had the energy to dance at least until 4 am and get completely hammered when in the mood. It definitely wasn’t the case anymore. Entering the hall you stopped to breathe in and out and just awkwardly looked around. All types of people were standing in small groups, smiling fakely, and chatting about boring stuff, probably work. Your outfit wasn’t too off, thankfully and you felt lowkey grateful that no one gave you any attention. You were the type of person to want to socialize but at your terms and being shoved in the middle of a group full of strangers didn’t sound very appealing at that moment. For how intimidating, it was still a pretty gathering. The high windows were letting people admire the little city lights against the dark night. Some waiters were walking around with tall glasses of champagne and finger food. It was alright, you reassured yourself. You could do it. Come on. You closed your eyes as if gathering courage, still standing in the frame of the tall door, and opening them again after a moment you made the first step inside. A waiter walked right in front of you so you awkwardly grabbed a glass to look occupied while strolling the place alone. Your feet took you towards the windows. Sipping on a drink and looking at the night view? Great plan when you have no idea what to do to yourself. So, you picked up the pace, as if physically needing to get to those windows as soon as possible. But you probably shouldn’t have as you suddenly felt a cold liquid all over your chest followed by a deep swear. “I apologize. I didn’t see you coming-”, the man spoke but soon his voice flattered, becoming a tiny sound then nothingness. You blinked a few times looking down your dripping dress, then at the hand holding the glass that just got the champagne all over you, then up at the man’s face. Two fiery eyes were wide enough for you to see yourself in them. "What are you doing here?", Doyoung asked with a breathy voice. You had no idea what a heart attack felt like but somehow, in that exact moment, you thought that you probably were about to die. Yes, definitely. This feels like dying. Your muscles were like paralyzed and your fingers couldn’t keep the grip around your glass anymore, letting it fall, making you close your eyes when it shattered all over the floor. Angry heys surrounded you as some fragments probably went flying to their faces but they sounded so far away. You weren’t able to understand anything that was happening so you just looked at the man in front of you moving in slow-motion. "I got this", his lips formed to someone, probably a waiter, while he knel. You imitated him, crouching down like an automaton, your limbs moving without your brain telling them what to do. Doyoung carefully gathered all the biggest pieces of glass and for some reason grabbed your hand afterward, calling you stupid all of a sudden. "What?", you asked with a tiny voice, looking down. The party sounds started to return slowly, infiltrating in your brain and shaking your nerves just like the sting on your finger. "It's alright", you said, putting it inside your mouth and sucking on it. "It's just a little cut". Doyoung didn't comment on that and you knew that you probably could have understood what he was thinking by looking at his eyes, but you were too much of a coward to look up. He was still holding your wrist and all your brain cells were concentrated on that spot, trying to memorize the way his cool skin felt on yours. God, you missed it, you missed it so much that you were about to let yourself fall in an agonizing cry. Then you realized what you were doing and felt like running away. You can’t. Don’t feel. No. Stop. "Come", he spoke suddenly leaving all the mess behind and you couldn’t do anything else but to let yourself be dragged like a lifeless puppet. You looked at his back as he was walking in front of you, then at his styled black hair, you listened to the sound his dress shoes made on the marbled floor, then he let your hand go entering a small room. "There should be something here…", he mumbled by himself, opening and closing all the cabinets in the bathroom. It was a pretty one, not like the public ones on your floor. It looked luxurious and almost intimate as if it was private. Doyoung was standing in front of the sink, eyebrows furrowed as if trying to see better. You were left in the frame of the door, holding your wrist, finger raised up, weight shifting from one foot to another. The déjà-vu was so strong to leave you breathless. You wondered if Doyoung remembered as well. Or if he cared at all. You couldn't stop yourself from letting your eyes fall to his hands, afraid, trying to see the ring. God, oh God. No, please, no. You felt all your blood abandon your brain. You felt like falling. It was there, shiny, adorning his pretty hands. So he did it. He actually did it. So quickly? It felt like years but only months passed from the last time you saw him. How was that possible? Wasn’t that a dream? You couldn’t believe it was actually reality. His number has been on your phone screen multiple times a day for the past months, fingers hovering over it, to call or not to call, to text or not to text. Then his voice had bounced on the walls of your mind every time. Let me go. Let me go. If you’re not giving anything to me, just let me go. Then his last kiss had ghosted your lips as if he had just kissed you one minute before that, and you would have gently caressed the thin skin with your fingertips. Was it your fault? Should you have just called, just once? Would that have helped you, him, both of you? Or did you do the right choice? Not contacting him at all, leaving him, letting him go? God. After all of this time. Your breath was still going missing. "Here". he turned around and getting closer, he handed you the wet cotton. You stared at it as if not understanding what he was saying. Right. It’s not like he was about to hold your hand again, taking care of you, making the scenario intimate, medicating the cut for you. This was no Tumblr fanfiction. This was reality. You took it with a trembling hand and placed it on your finger. It burnt like hell but the pain somehow helped you feel better. "I'm sorry", Doyoung then said. You looked up. "For spilling my drink on you", he explained quickly. You nodded. "It's alright", you answered with a tiny voice. And just when you thought that he would go away and leave you there just the way he did months ago, he spoke again. "There's no Johnny to lend us clothes this time, huh?", he joked with an uneasy little smile. His eyes were curved in a warm half moon and you thought you could drown in that sweetness. "Yeah", you managed to say after a moment of silence, a little smile intruding on your lips as well. He remembered. He was thinking about the same thing. Your knees were feeling even weaker than before. Then you both bounced on the silence wall between you. "Why are you here?", he finally spoke after a little while, finally about what you both were dying to talk about. His voice was cautious and polite while you put a bandaid on your cut. He looked like speaking to a scared kitty and you were feeling like one indeed. “What are you doing here?”, you asked but as the words left your mouth you already knew. That was his company. Of course. You felt so stupid. You closed your eyes. Dammit, Johnny Suh. Doyoung sighed silently, as if a little uncomfortable, noticing how you knew the answer to that already. You suddenly panicked, realizing how that looked like to his eyes. “No! I am not here because of you!”, you spluttered out quickly, feeling your eyes widen. “I didn’t know this was your father’s company. I really just thought about it. I had no idea. I swear-”, but he interrupted you by placing his hands on your shoulders. “Hey, hey, Y/N”, he spoke softly, “it’s alright”. You shook your head. “But it’s true. I don’t want you to think that I am here…” you added but drifting off, unsure what words to use. Doyoung let his arms fall slowly. “It’s fine. I believe you”, he assured you. “There’s no need to explain yourself”. You sighed, still frustrated but didn’t add anything else, not wanting to embarrass yourself even further. “Are you alone?”, he looked behind you as if expecting to see someone. “N-no”, you shook your head. “I am- with a man”. The last word sounding way too high to be considered normal conversational pitch. Doyoung looked down at you again, not saying anything for a few instances. “Let me take you to him, then”, he simply said and walked out of the bathroom. “Doyoung!”, you called before realizing how much you’ve missed having his name roll on your tongue. “Please, don’t bother. It’s alright”, you added when reaching him. He stopped, waiting for you to catch up. “I insist”, he replied sternly. “This is the least I can do to make it up to you for destroying your dress”. You knew how stubborn he could get and if you weren’t feeling so many different things altogether, you would have rolled your eyes at him. You sighed and followed him. Entering the hall again, you gulped and lifted yourself on the tiptoes, staring around the room as if effectively looking for your man. “Uhm-”, you murmured unsurely. Doyoung crossed his arms on his chest and looked around as well. “Uh…”, you were about to get a panic attack. What should you do? Be honest? Yes, be honest then go outside and dig a fucking hole to bury yourself in, you fucking loser. What were you thinking? Why was it necessary to tell him that you were over him? Why was it necessary to invent a stupid ass story? “There!”, you exclaimed after a minute and just walked hurriedly towards a random guy, praying that he would play along. Please, please, please. Doyoung followed you and as you reached the man’s shoulders you just slid your arm underneath his. The man turned around, reasonably surprised, and just looked at your wide eyes, telling him to just shut up and do what you were about to tell him to do. “I’m sorry for being away for so long. What a bad date I am, right?”, then you opened your mouth in a sequence of loud “ha ha ha”, making the guy feel even more uncomfortable. He furrowed his eyebrows at your almost desperate expression, not missing the way you were tilting your head towards Doyoung, standing with hands in his pockets behind you. “Oh”, the guy finally said as if finally understating. Then his eyes light up amused and he tugged at your arm, making you come closer. “It’s alright, darling. I hope you’re fine?”, he put on a worried expression eyeing your bandaged finger and holding your hand to look at it closely. You looked at him, surprised that he was able to catch up on that so effortlessly but pleased at the same time. Thank God. “It’s just a little cut. I dropped my glass”, you explained and inhaled sharply as the guy brought your hand to his lips and kissed your knuckles. It was so sudden that you definitely felt your heart flutter. “To make the boo-boo go away faster”, the guy explained as if obvious. Doyoung was still standing there like a big and dark shadow, so you turned around to face him when he cleared his throat. “Oh, Doyoung, hi, didn’t see you there”, the guy looked up as if suddenly aware of the other’s presence. “Yeah, sure. Then I’ll be going now. Take care”, Doyoung spoke directing the last phrases to you. “Wait, you guys know each other?”, you asked surprised, staring at one first then at the other. You were already preparing yourself for the embarrassing moment of having to introduce them to each other, not knowing what to say about Doyoung and not even knowing the guy’s name. The fact that you didn’t have to do that made the air feel slightly easier to breathe in but at the same time, a weird shiver of worry caressed your spine. The guy, indeed, pressed his hand on the small of your waist as a warning. You looked at him and saw the way he smiled, showing all of his teeth, speaking through them. “This is a company party, darling. We all work together. Did you forget?”, he asked with a tight smile. You swallowed nothing feeling your throat suddenly dry. “Oh yeah, haha, wow, I must be very tired”, you chuckled bringing one hand to your head as if suddenly exhausted. “Haha indeed”, the guy replied with a big smile but it was almost obvious that it was fake. Doyoung looked at both of you, unamused as if watching a terrible play. You were about to say something else since the embarrassment was crawling on your skin, but you didn’t need to as Doyoung spared you of further awkwardness. “See you on Monday then, and please, for the love of God, help me finish that assignment, alright?”, he spoke. The guy put his hand on his hip with a daring face. “I’m too good to be your helper”, he smiled. You gasped. That guy was speaking like that to the CEO himself? Was he doing that to help you out? You tugged at his hand trying to tell him to stop, that there was no need for him to act like that. But Doyoung just sighed as if already used to that behavior and rolling his eyes he just walked away. You couldn’t help but look at his back and legs as they were drifting away every step more, as if praying for him to not go, not again. “What are you doing?”, you finally whispered concerned to the guy after taking your eyes off Doyoung. “Are you insane?” The guy looked at you as if you were the insane one between the two. And maybe he was right. “Aren’t you afraid he’s going to fire you?”, you asked again, explaining your shock. The guy furrowed his eyebrows at you as if not understanding, then he laughed. “Who? Doyoung?”, he laughed even harder. You looked at him confused. “He’s the CEO of this company. What are you laughing about?”, you were getting a little irritated. The guy swiped an imaginary tear out of his eye. “That loser wishes to be the CEO”, he commented. “What are you talking about?”. You felt your head hurting. He breathed in and out, suddenly bored, looking at you from head to toe, as if finally asking himself what the fuck do you want from him. “Who are you anyway?”, he asked. You puffed your cheeks. “Later! What do you mean he’s not the CEO?”, you asked urgently. “I mean”, he started, finally sliding his arm away from yours, “that he’s not the fucking CEO”, he finished. “We’re just co-workers. We work in the same department”. You unfocused your gaze as if thinking about what he has just said. The guy shook his head as if dealing with a weirdo and grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. “I just don’t understand”, you finally spoke again. The guy didn’t reply and just drank, but his face was screaming “because you’re fucking stupid”. Then you tugged at his arm, making him lean down towards you, closer to your face, and whispered to his ear. “He is the former CEO's son”, you shared the secret, wondering if Doyoung was working in a lower position to hide his origins. The guy listened with wide eyes then looked at you and gasped when you finished. “No. fucking. way”, he articulated theatrically. “Hey”, he then stopped a random dude by slapping the back of his hand on his chest. “Did you know that Kim Doyoung from the IT department is - the CEO's son?”, he asked. You jolted and squeezed his arm as to stop him from talking. What the fuck was he doing? But the dude looked at him with no particular reaction besides pure confusion. “Yeah?”. The guy turned around to you with a fake surprised face. “Oh no! Did you hear that? Everyone knows!”, he exclaimed putting his hand on his cheek. You stared at him for a few seconds, breathing in slowly, then you just hit his arm. The guy giggled at your reaction and sprinted one step away. “You’re a fucking asshole”, you accused him. “It’s just”, he laughed, “your face was priceless. You thought you were sharing a top-notch state secret. I can’t believe I’m having so much fun at a company party. I’m glad I came”, he said. You were shocked and angry. How dare this guy to mock you and laugh at you like that? You were already out of your own fucking mind because it was the first working day of your whole life, you’ve just met Doyoung after being sure to not see him again, you’ve discovered that he is indeed married after struggling with the most excruciating pain for months because of that, you acted in a full-on rom-com just now, and you still had to be the subject of this guy’s jokes? “Well, then why is he working such a low position as you when he can be the CEO?”, you tried to insult him, but the guy looked unbothered. “What is this? A Korean drama?”, he chuckled. “He can’t just climb the ladder with blood alone. He has to work his ass off just like everybody else. From the bottom”. You really had no idea what to do with all of the information roaming your head. What the fuck was that? Did he marry a random girl just to have a normal position in his own company? Did he sacrifice his life for something that anyone could have? The guy looked at your expressionless face. “What’s up with this situation anyway? Was Doyoung bothering you before?”, he asked suddenly. You jerked your head towards him surprised. “What? No, why would he?”, you shook your head. “I mean, why wouldn’t he?”, the guy replied, staring you down with a little smirk. You rolled your eyes at his flirt. “Well”, you crossed your arms on your chest, “maybe because he’s married?”, you said confidently and hoped he didn’t see the way your lower lip trembled while saying that. The guy choked on his drink. “He’s married?”, he asked shocked. “You didn’t know?”, you eyed him, secretly pleased that you were one step ahead of him but at the same time worried dead that you’ve just made a huge mistake by saying that. “He also has the ring”. The guy tilted his head to the side as if thinking. “That doesn’t look like a wedding ring to me”, he commented. “Not that I look at men’s hands or anything”, he added quickly, going back to sipping from his glass. “Well, he is married. Trust me. But don’t say that to anyone else”, you spoke, your eyes drifting to where Doyoung was talking to some people. Even from afar, you could see the way his lips curved in a fake smile. You sighed. You couldn’t believe he was there, in the same room, and you talked, and you saw his face again. God. You were feeling so much as so intensely that you were under the impression of not being able to feel anything at all. “Ohhh”, the guy suddenly exclaimed giving you a mild shock for how close and loud he was, “so, he’s your ex-boyfriend. And now you discover that he’s married!”, he added even louder with wide eyes as if finally understating everything. “God, I fucking love this party”, he chuckled to himself. You grabbed a drink as well, finishing it all in one go. “He’s not my ex-boyfriend”, you replied not giving him any other explanations. “And be quiet. Maybe he doesn’t want people to know”. The guy clicked his tongue as if not believing you but not wanting to be seen as rude by asking other questions. He sighed and you sighed as well, both looking at the way people were moving around, forming groups and changing them up, laughing, chatting, having a good time. You felt like they were on another planet, their energy so different from the one you had inside. It was inevitable. You knew it. It was about to come. You would end up crashing down in the taxi going home, or randomly as you were pouring down cereal for breakfast. You were feeling them crawling under your skin, the feelings, but at that moment, you decided to still bath in the bliss all of the shocking experiences gifted you. “Thank you, for, you know, before...”, you added vaguely after a few moments. “No problem. I was getting bored anyway”, he shrugged. “I’m Y/N, by the way”, you extended your hand. He took it. “Nice to meet you”, he smiled. “I’m Haechan”.

#doyoung #doyoung smut #doyoung angst #doyoung fluff #doyoung series #nct #nct dream #nct 127 #nct smut #nct angst #nct fluff #pride #doyoung pride #pride part 7 #johnny #nct johnny #johnny suh

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chuuyas89bottleofpetrus · 3 years

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PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT:

Real talk here, people: If you have a test or something that you never studied for DON’T START CRAMMING THE NIGHT BEFORE! (ps to get you to read this I’ve hidden a JoJo reference in here see if you can try to find it)

It WILL NOT WORK! You won’t remember any of the information you tried to study because your brain would’ve been exhausted by the time you went to bed. But even if you do start studying days before, it won’t work (at least in my experience)

If you cram the night before you will be tired, grumpy, and won’t do well on that test/exam because all you’re thinking about is how tired and grumpy you are. In my many years of schooling, these are the steps I take to ensure I do well on a test. I’m not saying it will work for everyone, but give it a shot

1. DO NOT PANIC THE NIGHT BEFORE THE TEST! It is perfectly fine to have anxiety, but don’t let it keep you up at night worrying about how you might fail the test easier said than done ik, because guess what? That’s tomorrow. Focus on today. Before you go to bed, do something that relaxes you. I usually listen to ASMRs (y’all have tried it at least once don’t lie), but I understand it doesn’t work for everyone, so do what you need to do

2. There is no “going to sleep at a reasonable hour”. It’s all about sleep cycles. https://sleepyti.me/ is what I use to schedule my sleep and it really does help! I very much recommend using it to calculate when you should go to sleep.

3. BREAKFAST! I KNOW EVERYONE SAYS “eat a good breakfast before the test” 👏BUT👏IT👏 HELPS👏! A bowl of cereal will do wonders! You won’t have stomach pains from being hungry and you’ll just feel better with a full stomach.

5. Look up a quizlet and keep it open in a tab or something. Looking over a study guide right before a test is a lot better than cramming just because then it’s fresh in your mind while you’re awake with a full stomach. I do it all the time and I graduated so it obviously works. If it’s a huge quizlet for an exam or some shit, don’t worry about looking through all of it. Merely glance at it. Skim over it, take deep breaths, do not psych yourself out.

6. Don’t tell yourself you’re going to do terribly. I used to struggle with bad self-esteem, so I know what its like to feel worthless, like you can’t do anything, but I‘m here to tell you that’s not true. When that little voice in your head starts telling you that you’re not good enough, treat it like a Karen trying to speak to your manager. You’re not going to let that bitch get the best of you, are you?! THAT’S RIGHT! YOU’RE NOT!

Now go kick that test/exam’s ass and remember...

Your chaotic neutral mom will always be proud of you

#school #dont cram #just chill #youll be okay #its alright now #people care #you are the best #you are worthy #take deep breaths #anxiety support #study tips #quizlet

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thephantomofthe-internet · 4 years

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Read into Me Chapter 10: That Mad Ache

Steve Harrington x Reader

CATCH UP ON THE SERIES HERE

Words: 2,266

Warnings: ANGST FRIENDS THIS ONES NOT FUN

Series Tag: @divinity-deos @thecaptainsgingersnap @wolfish-willow @scoopsohboi @herre-gud-nej @clockworkballerina @maddie1504 @i-am-trash-so-much-its-scary @buckysarge @wildcvltre @stanleyyelnatsiii @n3wtscaseofniffler5 @peterparxour @a-big-ball-of-idk @asharpkniffe @used-avocado @mochminnie @sledgy14 @the-creative-lie @yall-wildin-like-siriusly @ggclarissa @boredoomfm @voidnarnia @the-passionate-freak @awkwardnesshabitat @darkcrystal-wolf @hannahrisacher

You didn’t exactly know where you were going, but you didn’t care. You had the windows rolled down, Elton John crooning on the radio, and your bare feet up on the seat. Steve had taken off his tie and jacket, popping open the top three buttons on his dress shirt. His hair was blowing in the breeze and you could see his chest hair peeking out from under the thin material of his shirt. He looked hot. You were drunk on adrenaline and you felt like kissing him. You were hyperaware of your lips, of his. You almost reached over to kiss him. But you didn’t.

“Where are we going?” you called over the wind in your ears.

Steve turned and looked at you with a cheeky grin. He’d pulled in around the community pool, long closed. “You wanna go swimming?” he asked.

“Won’t we get caught?” you asked. You didn’t bother to mention your lack of swimwear. You weren’t naïve as to what he was suggesting and you weren’t uninterested in the idea.

“Nah, the cops are more interested in stopping teen drinking after the dance ends than sneaking into the pool.” Steve replied with a shrug, parking the car at the farthest end of the lot, under a heavy looking evergreen. You nodded, popping the door open. Steve grinned, following you as you made your way into the pool. As expected, the back gate was locked with a heavy padlock and chain, but the fence was easily jumped, barely seven feet tall, Steve barely had to climbed to reach the top and then up and over. The fence was a bit taller than you compared to Steve, but you hooked your bare feet into the latticed metal and heaved yourself up, pausing briefly at the top to take in a heavy breath before throwing your other leg over the top and shimmied down.

The pavement below was dry and harsh, long dried out from last summer. Hawkins still couldn’t be bothered to install an automated cover for the pool, draining it in the winter and leaving it uncovered for the rest of the year. It was a costly cheap fix, but it came in handy now. The long plastic line lanes had been pulled out and roped up on large barrels near the clubhouse and the lights along the pool walls turned the water ominously yellow along the edges. The lights above the pool had been turned off, but the street lamps along the road and in the parking lot lit up the area enough to see.

Steve swallowed hard. The woods were too close. He didn’t like darkness that loomed there; the unknown had too many options now. Those damned dogs could still be out there. He hadn’t seen where they’d gone. They’d all just run off. He hadn’t seen one since but on the nights where he couldn’t sleep he’d sit and watch out his windows to try to spot anything in those woods. He didn’t like the way the trees moved in the wind, especially with bleary, sleep deprived eyes. Now he was a bit too close. Cold sweat pricked his skin.

You reached behind your back and pulled down the zipper of your dress. You felt self conscious of yourself. You’d never stripped for a man, even really around a man. Still, you’d decided to do it. You pushed off the straps of your dress, letting it slip off your body and fall to the pavement below you. You dove into the water, icy cold on your skin.

Steve heard the splash. He whipped around, looking for a demo-dog about to strike. He didn’t know if they could swim and he didn’t want to find out. Instead he saw you burst through the water, your hair wet and slicked to your skull. Your makeup had smeared and your lips slightly blue. “You coming?” you asked, gasping for air to fill your cold body. Steve swallowed hard, nodding quickly. He kicked off his dress pants and unbuttoned his dress shirt. He jumped in fast, putting his focus on the beautiful, nearly naked girl in the water with him. In the back of his mind, he was wired. It wasn’t so much a fight or flight but more a protective urge. If anything happened, he’d made up his mind that he’d protect you over himself. He’d done it before for those kids, he’d do it again.

He burst out of the water in front of you with a splash. You laughed loudly, tipping your head back. Steve shook his head wildly, his hair flicking water over your face and neck. You squealed, pushing him away, swimming off to the other side of the pool.

“Aw come on, I thought you liked it wet,” he joked, swimming after you.

“Oh I do,” you started, turning to move away from the wall. Steve trapped you between his arms.

“Oh yeah? Tell me more…” he drawled. Moonlight was caught in your eyes. Or maybe that was street lights. It didn’t really matter; he could spend the rest of his life drinking you in.

You demurred, turning your head away from him. You ran a hand through your soaked hair. “Isn’t that a bit vain?” you asked.

“Sue me…” Steve chuckled, lowering his head to watch you carefully.

You conceded, leaning your elbows against the edge of the pool to hold yourself up. “I like your hair, wet or dry…I like your eyes and your smile…and…” you paused, humming slightly to mull over whether or not you should you should admit. “I like your arms.” You said simply, almost decidedly.

“My arms?” Steve was bemused. He expected to be flattered, and he was, but he didn’t expect a mention to his arms.

“Yeah, they’re strong and warm, I find them endlessly comforting.” You shrugged, reaching out a hand to caress his wrist gently. Your fingers had pruned, but your touch was warm, it sent tingles up his spine. You lifted his hand off the pool side, swimming under it and across the pool.

Steve turned to watch you go past. “And I like…” he said in a sing-song tone, putting his finger to his chin and cocking his head to the side.

“Oh no, I don’t really need to-” you started, holding up your hands defensibly.

“I like your laugh,” Steve said, cutting you off. “And your hands, even though they’re always covered in grey smudges, because you can make beautiful things with them. And I like eyes. You have nice eyes.”

You felt yourself colour. You didn’t know how to handle compliments, you didn’t get them often enough to be used to them. “Thank you…” you murmured. Steve once again trapped you. He felt warm against your skin, dizzying delicious. You wanted to stay there forever, but your mind screamed at you to run. His mouth hovered over yours, inching closer to yours. Your eyes fluttered shut. You wanted so badly to kiss him.

Instead, you pressed a hand to his bare chest, pushing him back. “Steve, wait,” you began.

Steve’s heart dropped “I thought…”

“I know, but I can’t, I haven’t told you yet…” your heart was breaking in your chest. You didn’t think this would be as difficult as this. You hadn’t expected everything to be so perfect.

“Told me what?” Steve narrowed his eyes. He didn’t know what you were about to say, but he didn’t like it. He’d already dealt with Nancy sneaking around with Jonathan Byers behind his back; he didn’t want to be made a fool again.

“I’m…leaving.”

“What?”

“I’m leaving Hawkins.” You sighed, pushing yourself onto the edge of the pool, letting the cold bitter night air sting your skin. “I’m meeting my mother in Paris. I’ve applied to the city’s school of the arts.”

Steve didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t imagined you going anywhere. You pressed on to fill the gap. “I don’t really know when I’ll be back here, it’ll all depend on if I get into the school and so I don’t want to lead you on or start something here when I’m leaving so soon.” You explained awkwardly.

“When are you leaving?” Steve managed to ask, swallowing hard.

“Right after graduation,” you said. Steve groaned loudly, an anguished cry. “I wanted to leave the first week of June but a part of the application process is working for a month in this sort of salon. It’s not like teaching its showing what you can do in real time. I have to leave right after exams and graduation to get there in time.”

The sound of a car speeding past drew in both your attention. You both became hyperaware that you were trespassing on city property. “We should go.” Steve said coldly, heaving himself out of the pool. You grabbed your dress off the pavement. Steve followed suit with his own dress clothes, pulling his dress shirt over his wet skin. You both hopped the fence again, walking in silence to his car. You felt distressingly naked compared to Steve, who was pulling back on his pants. Instead of going to the driver’s side to unlock the car, he popped the trunk and pulled out an oil marked Hawkins High sweatshirt from under the bat. He tossed it at your head and shut the trunk.

“Thank you…” you muttered, placing your dress on the roof of his car and pulled on the sweatshirt greedily. You drank in the warmth of the material, blocking out the cold air on your arms and chest. Steve unlocked his door and reached inside to pop the lock on your side. You pulled open your door and grabbed your dress, tossing it onto the floor of the car. You stepped in, shutting out the night as Steve started up the car.

You drove in silence for awhile. Then, Steve spoke “So, how long have you known?” he asked.

“A couple weeks, around the same time you asked me to prom.” You replied. Steve nodded, turning his attention back to the road. You could’ve cut the tension with a butter knife. “Do you hate me?” you asked.

Steve sighed “No, I don’t think I could hate you. But I wish you told me sooner.”

“I didn’t want to ruin prom…” you turned your attention to the window “And I didn’t think you liked me back…”

“So you’re just gone after this?” Steve asked, turning down your shared street. You silently wished he’d acknowledged your feelings. That’s he’d even look at you. You his gaze stayed fixed on the road ahead and his mouth pulled into a tight, thin line.

“I might be,” you turned to look at Steve fully “If I get in, then I’ll have the option to go for their four year program. But if I don’t get in, I’ll be back by early July.”

“And if you get in?” Steve turned into his own driveway, turning off the engine but not moving.

“Then I’d come home for Christmas...” that wasn’t a certain thing, your mother didn’t come home for the holiday and with assignments you weren’t certain you’d be back either, but setting a time frame for your homecoming made the whole thing feel more certain.

Steve nodded again. He was chewing on the inside of his cheek, not really looking at you, more the skyline behind your head. He was upset to say the least. Not necessarily at you, he understood why you hadn’t told him, but a bit of resentment harboured in the pit of his stomach. You were about to get out of this shit hole, to go on an adventure of your own. And he hadn’t even gotten into college. He was stuck here. He hated the universe for fucking with him, for showing him a new start and then taking it away.

“Steve,” you reached for the door. You needed to both be there with him and hidden away in your room. “Ask me to stay and I will.”

Steve turned to look at you. He saw the fear in your eyes, how pale you’d gone. You looked terrified and he was certain that it wasn’t of him. “Ask me and I will.” You repeated, nodding your head slightly.

Steve wanted desperately to say yes. To have you stay with him for the summer. But he knew it wouldn’t be fair. “No,” he breathed “I can’t do that, Y/N.”

“Yes you can, I’m telling you that you can.” You sounded desperate. You felt desperate. Every part of you was begging to stay exactly where you were. For the first time in your life, things were starting to turn up for you. Before now, you could’ve left everything behind easily. Now everything was more complicated. You were scared of the future, of what lay ahead in France. Steve was a way out, an escape from the change already set into motion. Your mother would understand she’d given up on so many things for men; her modelling career for your father, a second chance on it for an ex-fiancé, photo shoots and interviewers with designers for various flings. You giving up a chance at art school for Steve felt okay.

“No, no you have to go. You’re too good to not try this.” He rubbed your cheek with his thumb before turning away from you. Your heart broke, your hopes shattered on the floor at your feet. You bundled up your things from the floor and pushed the door open. Blue tears were streaming down your face. You couldn’t be around him now.

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angstyaches · 4 years

Note

How about a sick Shayne hanging out with Charlie. His stomach starts to hurt and eventually he gets nauseous. He makes a run for the bathroom, but when he gets there he realizes it's occupied and loses his hold on his nausea, and Charlie comforts him.

Thanks anon! I’m sorry for the Emotions, I couldn’t stop myself. Please enjoy!

CW: nausea, emeto, panic, mistreatment mention, some swearing, separation anxiety. This is PRE-OUIJA BOARD/occurring before they meet Elliott and Felix.

Shayne’s body responded to the pain before his mind even registered that anything was wrong. By the time he became aware of any discomfort, he had already lowered his head to the arm of the armchair, wrapped one arm around his waist, and drawn his knees to his chest. He blinked in surprise when he realised how he was sitting in comparison to Charlie, who had his long, skinny legs stretched out across the floor, one hand resting over the edge of the sofa, the other idly reaching for the bowl of popcorn next to him.

Shayne made himself sit up and put his feet on the floor too, trying to subtly fold his arms and keep some pressure on his stomach. Charlie looked over when he heard all the movement, but his gaze didn’t linger long when Shayne didn’t look back at him.

As soon as Charlie went back to watching the movie, Shayne let his discomfort show on his face, swallowing hard and tightening his arms over his belly. He’d been planning on dealing with the next demon on his way home, but the thought of going ahead with that while he already felt like this nearly made his eyes water.

“Hey, um…” Charlie’s voice was extremely soft as he looked over again. “Is everything okay? You can talk to me, if you’re worried about something.”

“I’m okay,” Shayne mumbled. If he told Charlie he wasn’t feeling well, Charlie would find some way to help, and Shayne would feel like shit later for making him go out of his way. Or, for all he knew, Charlie was already fed up with Shayne and his whining.

When he noticed the slight frown on Charlie’s face, Shayne wanted to kick himself for being distracted and selfish.

“Are you worried about something?” he asked.

Charlie’s hand halted on its way to his mouth, and a few pieces of popcorn fell onto his chest. He glanced down at them but let them sit there as his gaze wandered towards the closed door of the front room.

“I mean, I – I guess I’m worried about what’ll happen when we sell the house,” Charlie said in a low voice.

Shayne nodded along out of habit, trying to ignore the way his stomach was starting to gurgle.

“I really want to finish my exams here, and graduate with you and Rin.” Charlie smiled sadly, glancing towards the door again like he was afraid his parents would walk in at any second and hear him talking like this. “I know I’ve gotta go where the wind takes me, and right now, the parents are the wind, but it just feels – I don’t know.”

Shayne shook his head; he didn’t know either. He had done an excellent job of not thinking about this too much himself, ever since Charlie had let slip the possibility of him moving away again soon. Shayne couldn’t picture anybody else living in the Mulberry house after coming to associate it with Charlie. He couldn’t see how he’d find the strength to keep protecting the house, damaging his mind and body in the process, if it wasn’t Charlie and Ingrid and Trevor that he was protecting.

He couldn’t stop the shudder that ran up and down his spine as Charlie went back to watching the movie, tidying up the popcorn he’d let fall on himself. His cheeks tingled, his mouth flooding with a sour taste. He pressed his hand to his stomach as he started to get up from the armchair, hoping the motion wouldn’t accelerate things.

“Want me to pause it?”

“No, it’s fine.” He glanced at Charlie in slight confusion, reminding himself that Charlie didn’t know how little attention he’d been paying to the movie anyway.

Shayne’s heart sank when he got to the hallway and saw a rim of off-yellow light coming from the bathroom door. That meant someone was in there already, and his legs were shaking so much he didn’t think he’d make it upstairs.

He closed his eyes and pressed his hands to his mouth, one clutching the other, trying not to make a sound as he willed his body to stop whatever it was trying to achieve.

A mouthful of bile silently sneaked up his throat, and his first instinct was to swallow it back down. That just made the churning in his stomach worse, and his diaphragm heaved. The retch overwhelmed him this time, and the result was a splatter across the polished floorboards as his hands flew instinctively away from his mouth.

Shit. Shayne recoiled against the wall, too afraid to look at how much of a mess there was. It was too dark to see properly anyway. The shock and the shame were enough to tighten his throat, stopping him from gagging again. Which would have been great, if it hadn’t been too little too late.

The door to the front room clicked first, which meant Charlie was coming, and then – even worse – the toilet flushed behind the closed bathroom door, an ominous crashing sound that made Shayne’s heart drop.

“Shayne?” Charlie asked anxiously from his right.

“Charlie, I’m sorry,” Shayne choked out, a timer ringing in his head as he waited for one of Charlie’s parents to come out of the bathroom. “I-I couldn’t – it came on really suddenly –”

The lock on the bathroom door clicked, and the door opened. The light from inside the room spilled out, outlining Trevor’s slim, tall build. The man was holding a folded newspaper in his hand, and seemed caught off-guard when he saw both Charlie and Shayne staring at him.

Shayne looked away first, his ears starting to ring. It was like his nerves were shutting down and all that was left was a shard of fear in his throat and the dread swirling in his stomach.

He barely heard whatever Charlie and his dad were saying for the next minute or so, because the voices in his head were so much louder, so much more –

Ungrateful little shit ruins everything why can’t you be more like your mother do you realise what we gave up for you how about you start showing some respect –

“Hey, hey, hey, whoa – what’s going on, Charlie, is he alright?”

“It’s okay, Dad, I’ve got him.”

Yes, Charlie did have him. Shayne opened his eyes to see Charlie’s hands pulling at him, guiding him back to the front room and over to the sofa. He had no idea why he needed to be guided until a burning in his lungs made him realise how quick and shallow his breaths were.

He began to become aware again as he sat in the spot where Charlie had previously been sitting, feeling his heat still trapped in the cushions. Charlie knelt in front of him, putting his hands on Shayne’s knees.

“Charlie, I’m – oh, god, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I – fuck, I need to – I need to go tell – tell your dad. I’m sorry –”

Charlie pressed harder on his knees to stop him from standing up. Shayne’s breath caught in his throat, halting altogether when he saw the fierce emotions in those blue eyes, made sharper by the flickering light from the TV screen.

“Listen to me, okay?” Charlie said, turning one hand over on Shayne’s knee. Shayne’s hand reached for it without thinking, and he felt a warm shiver as their palms met. “You didn’t do anything wrong, and no one’s angry at you.”

“Y-your parents –”

“Will not be angry with you.” Charlie half-smiled. “I promise. I’m gonna go help Dad clean up, but I’ll be right back, okay?”

Shayne gave a quick nod, since it felt like the right answer. Another shiver went through him when Charlie’s half-smile became a full-smile, seeming to warm the spaces between his ribs. He felt Charlie’s hand slide away from his and he curled up against the arm of the sofa, already anticipating the sensation of him coming back.

Even so, he couldn’t swallow back the words that were stuck in his throat, the answer he’d actually wanted to give. Don’t go.

#emeto #emeto sickfic #sickfic #stomach ache #swallow the world #request #shayne #shayne and charlie #sickfic angst #tw emeto #tw trauma #tw panic #emetophilia

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ibijau · 4 years

Text

Worst engagement AU // on AO3

Nie Huaisang goes home, tries to deal with missing his friends, and gets a visitor

Nie Huaisang’s last month in the Cloud Recesses passes so fast that he hardly has time to register it.

Much against his will, he gets roped into joining Jiang Cheng’s study sessions. Those turn out to be rather intense, and Jiang Cheng might be a more severe teacher than even old Lan Qiren. It pays off though, because everyone passes their exams with flying colours. Even Nie Huaisang ends up with a pretty decent grade, in spite of his refusal to put any effort into this.

Lan Qiren congratulates him on actually putting some work into this at last, in answer to which Nie Huaisang just laughs to his face, too stunned to even get angry. He is still in a daze when he leaves the teacher’s office with his diploma in hand. He had honestly prepared himself to have failed again and he wouldn’t even have cared, but apparently he had underestimated Jiang Cheng’s determination to see everyone succeed.

“Come on, try to at least look a little happy!” Jiang Cheng scolds him later, when they all get to the Jiang cabin to celebrate. “What, did you want to stay here another year with Lan Xichen?”

Nie Huaisang scoffs and shoves him away before stuffing a handful of dried nuts in his mouth, pointedly refusing to answer such a stupid question.

He hasn’t seen a lot of Lan Xichen this last month. They’ve both been pretty busy, and Lan Qiren cancelled their last two compulsory meetings to give Nie Huaisang a better chance to study. But what little time they spent together has been… not so bad. They’ve managed to chat a little when they met in passing, and the meetings they did have were… fine. The first one was spent painting together, with Lan Xichen still exquisitely awful at Nie Huaisang’s style. The second they played Go and Nie Huaisang won, though it was a very close score. Both times, they actually ended up staying together after the incense stick had finished burning. It’s not even that Nie Huaisang hadn’t noticed. He was just having enough fun to allow it, just that time. And then again the time after.

It’s not that Nie Huaisang likes Lan Xichen any better than before. It’s not even that he’s stopped hating him. But what’s fun is fun, and to his surprise… Lan Xichen, on occasion, can be rather fun.

Nowhere near as fun as Jiang Cheng and Jin Zixuan, of course. The two of them make Nie Huaisang promise that he'll write to them and come visit. He extracts the same promise from them, and even gets them to grudgingly agree they might tolerate some overlap in their visits, if he so badly wants to have them around at the same time.

More surprisingly, Lan Wangji also comes knocking on the last day Nie Huaisang spends in the Cloud Recesses. He too offers a correspondence, which Nie Huaisang readily accepts. He doesn't say, but he's already plotting to invite Lan Wangji to Qinghe, and perhaps by some planning on error on his part, Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian will be there at the same time.

More surprising, Lan Xichen also comes visiting a few hours after his brother. For a moment Nie Huaisang half wonders if he too will ask if they can write to each other. In the end he doesn't, choosing instead to say a few empty words about being proud of his fiancé's well deserved success. Nie Huaisang, who is not disappointed by this, ends up sending him away so he can finish packing.

Being home again is the best.

Nie Huaisang's first week back in the Unclean Realm is, without a doubt, the happiest time of his life. He tells Nie Mingjue everything he's done while he was away (everything he can share, anyway). He visits all his favourite spots in the Unclean Realm, in Qinghe, and in the countryside around. He checks on his surviving birds and dotes on them. He sleeps in as late as he can, and refuses to do anything even slightly useful. It's paradise.

By the second week, paradise loses some of its glow and boredom settles in. Doing nothing at all is only fun for a short while. More importantly, Nie Huaisang soon finds himself kind of lonely. Now that he's had friends, the company of his birds doesn't quite satisfy him the way it used to. His myna can speak a few sentences, but that's just not the same as chatting with Jiang Cheng or arguing with Jin Zixuan. Nie Mingue is there, but he's far too busy, as are most of the disciples. Nie Fangjie rose in rank after his time in Gusu and is rarely free, while He Zimu had to go home to meet the fiancée his parents picked for him.

Nie Huaisang writes to all his friends, but it'll be a long while before he gets an answer, and that depresses him further. He doesn't quite fall back to the sort of moods he was in during his first year in the Cloud Recesses, but it's not so far off either.

The difference is that this time, Nie Mingjue notices.

It's a right pain in the ass at first, because Nie Huaisang wants to wallow in his misery while his brother is determined to drag him out of it, even kicking and screaming. It sparks quite a few arguments between them, which is rather new. Nie Huaisang never really had the guts to argue with his brother before. Nie Mingjue doesn't seem to mind, anyway. If anything, he seems pretty happy to find that his little brother won't let himself be pushed around so easily.

By the end of Nie Huaisang's first month back at home, they've reached a balance of sorts. Nie Huaisang has to train daily, both with the sabre and in hand-to-hand combat since he definitely still enjoys that. He also has to learn how to help Nie Mingjue deal with sect business, which is even more boring than the lectures in the Cloud Recesses, but gives them a decent excuse to spend time together. Nie Mingjue doesn't say, but Nie Huaisang suspects it's also a way to prepare him for the role that will be his in the future. Qingheng-Jun is a healthy man with many years ahead of him, but someday Lan Xichen will have to succeed him and Nie Huaisang will have to step up and help him.

With all this piling up, when Nie Huaisang does get a bit of freedom, he rarely mopes around. There are too many things to paint, too many fans to decorate, and his birds to train, and that shop in Qinghe he wants to visit, or that new book of poetry he found in the library.

Which isn't to say there are no bad days anymore. Some mornings it's a struggle just to get out of bed. Nie Mingjue doesn't get it, even if he tries, and seems to think that on those days Nie Huaisang needs to be kept even busier than usual to push away any bad thoughts. After it happens once or twice, Nie Huaisang gives up on explaining why that doesn't work. Instead, when a bad mood strikes, he just hides. It's easy enough, in a place like the Unclean Realm.

The best place to hang out undisturbed, Nie Huaisang figures out, is a little alcove hidden behind the throne room where his brother conducts his meetings. Nobody ever goes in there, and he's half sure nobody even remembers it exists. He's done some research, and it was built alongside the main room so the sect leader's wives could listen in on important business without being seen by guests. It's not very big, but it's comfortable enough that he can lounge around and paint, or read, or just listen to his brother's increasing frustration over not finding him. It also means that if something really does require his presence, he can know and appear quickly at his brother's side.

It's Nie Huaisang’s second favourite place in the Unclean Realm, right after the place where he keeps his birds.

It's a little under two months after returning home that Nie Huaisang, hiding in his alcove and slowly recovering from a bout of depression by snickering over some very bad poetry, is startled to hear a familiar voice conversing with his brother.

"I'm really sorry for dropping by unannounced," Lan Xichen is saying. "I apologise for the inconvenience. But since I was in the area, I thought it'd be ridiculous not to say hi."

Even perfectly hidden as he is, Nie Huaisang can't help but tense. This is the first time he's anywhere near Lan Xichen since graduating a few weeks ago. He's not nervous, of course he's not, but he's also. He's not quite comfortable.

"Well, you know I'm always happy to see you," Nie Mingjue replies. "I'm a little busy right now, but if you don't mind waiting…"

"Actually…"

There is a moment of silence. Nie Huaisang is tempted to check what's happening through one of the small openings that exist for that exact purpose, but before he gets to that, Lan Xichen speaks again.

"Actually, and I hope you won't mind," he says, sounding oddly uncertain, "but the person I was most hoping to see is your brother. I'll be happy to chat with you as well of course, but if he allows it I'd like to spend time with him first."

Nie Huaisang feels punched, but in the main room, his brother just laughs.

"What, you didn't get enough of that brat last year? After how much you complained that he doesn't like you, I'd have thought you'd be glad not to see him until the wedding."

"Mingjue, don't tease me."

"Why not? I don't get the chance often. Oh, fine, I won't. I will survive this betrayal of seeing my brother's company preferred over mine, so go chat with him if you like. You'll have to find him first, though. He's gotten a little too good at hiding."

"Then with your permission, I'll look for him. I'm sure he'll let himself be found if he wishes to be, and otherwise… I'll just wait for you to be free."

Lan Xichen sounds so resigned, as if he dares not hope for the first option but the second would make him sad.

It's just so awkward to hear him be like this. Nie Huaisang almost miss the days when Lan Xichen was nothing but cold and insufferable. It made it easy to hate him, and at least Nie Huaisang knew where they stood. Now though… he just doesn't know what to make of his fiancé anymore. He's starting to wonder if maybe Lan Xichen wasn't sincere every time he's said that he wants them to get along, when he promised to improve and that's absolutely awful. It makes everything too complicated.

So Nie Huaisang discreetly escapes, and takes hidden paths to go be with his birds. It's not as good of a hiding place, but their company always calms him down, which he badly needs. Luckily it's even cleaning day, so that's a good hour of hard, gruesome work to distract him from the perspective of maybe facing his fiancé later.

There's only a few birds left, which still takes Nie Huaisang by surprise every time even though he should be used to it now. That incident really decimated them, and he can't even get new ones. In little more than a year, two at most, he'll have to leave them behind for good, so it'd be pointless. Usually it doesn’t bother him too much, but on a day where his mood is already so near to collapsing... As he cleans the cages and checks on food and water, Nie Huaisang finds himself focusing on that future loss. If he thinks of everything that he'll leave behind, he can make himself hate Lan Xichen again, almost, and he’s in a bad enough state that feeling hatred is better than not feeling anything at all.

"Good afternoon, Nie gongzi."

Nie Huaisang startles at the sudden appearance of Lan Xichen in this private space, and nearly drops the seeds he was carrying for his pair of parakeets. He quickly recovers though, and bows to his visitor.

"Lan gongzi, what a surprise! I had no idea you were coming to the Unclean Realm. If you're looking for my brother, you might want to try the training grounds."

"I've seen your brother already, and told him you were the one I was visiting this time," Lan Xichen explains. Even though Nie Huaisang already knew that, it sends his heart racing to hear it said so calmly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Mingjue was not sure where you might be," Lan Xichen continues, "so he allowed me to look for you while he handles other business. This seemed like a good place to start, and I was right."

His heart still beating too hard in embarrassment, Nie Huaisang turns around, ostensibly so he can continue feeding his birds.

"Lan gongzi must find me very childish, still so obsessed with my pets."

Lan Xichen does not reply right away. Nie Huaisang hates how careful he has become, just as much as he is grateful for it.

"If I have accused you of this, and for that reason, I'm sorry," he says at last, sounding painfully earnest. "It was wrong of me. From what your brother says, you are very diligent at caring for your birds and except when forced to go away, you always take full responsibility for them. There's nothing childish about that."

Nie Huaisang's heart squeezes at the words, so painfully he almost feels like he's dying. He hates this. He misses the days when he could just tell himself it was all fake, that Lan Xichen was either forcing himself or subtly insulting him.

"You're always trying so hard to say the right thing," Nie Huaisang accuses, with far less venom than he intended.

"I hope I can do the right thing as well. Just saying it doesn't do much good."

Nie Huaisang sighs. This is annoying. He hates that his heart beats so fast, he hates that his cheeks feel warmer, he hates that he desperately wants Lan Xichen to be sincere. He hates that he's certain Lan Xichen is sincere.

"Listen, just… give me a moment to finish this," he mutters. "Then we can go back and have tea or something. We have actual, nice biscuits here. They even taste sweet, if you can believe that."

Behind him, Lan Xichen chuckles lightly. It's not an unpleasant sound, as Nie Huaisang has discovered during his last few weeks in Gusu.

"If you tell me what to do, I can try to help you," Lan Xichen offers. "Though I'll understand if you'd rather I didn't."

"You'll get messy."

Another soft chuckle, making Nie Huaisang’s heart beat too hard. It's stupid, and he hates that like he hates all the rest, but he likes that Lan Xichen stopped trying to be controlled and perfect with him. He likes it too much. He hates it.

"I can survive a little mess."

"Then grab that bucket and bring it near that big cage."

"The one with the myna?"

"Hm."

Nie Huaisang hates that Lan Xichen apparently knows a little about birds. He hates that Lan Xichen doesn't complain as he grabs that bucket filled with filth and carries it as if it weighs nothing. He hates that Lan Xichen smiles at the bird inside and comments how pretty it is. Nie Huaisang hates Lan Xichen because that's what he's done for so long now, and he's not ready yet to face the new warmth in his chest when he looks at the other boy.

He hates everything today, and wishes Lan Xichen had chosen another day to visit, one where Nie Huaisang is capable of feeling emotions in a normal way so he could try to sort this out in a rational way.

When the birds’ cages are spotless and they all have clean water and fresh food, Nie Huaisang has no choice but to suggest it’s time to return toward the main buildings. Lan Xichen readily agrees and they start walking side by side. It doesn’t take long for something to bother Nie Huaisang, partly because it’s that sort of a day where everything is annoying, but also because a certain detail is becoming hard to ignore.

“How come your clothes are still spotless when mine are filthy?” he complains.

“I must have been more careful,” Lan Xichen replies with a small smile.

“You were not,” Nie Huaisang accuses. “I saw you step in several puddles of dirty water. Your robes have no right to still be this white!”

Lan Xichen chuckles, but says nothing.

“I’m going to have to get changed,” Nie Huaisang laments, annoyed that he is actually upset by that idea. “I mean, I wasn’t planning on having a guest today, so I wasn’t exactly well dressed to begin with. I just wanted something comfortable. But now seeing the two of us together, we look like a great lord and a peasant!”

“Nie gongzi is too handsome to be a peasant.”

Hearing this unexpected compliment, Nie Huaisang stumbles and almost falls face first on the ground, only for Lan Xichen to catch him just in time.

“This is… you’re just trying to distract me from your clean robes!” Nie Huaisang sputters, escaping his fiancé’s grasp so quickly that he almost falls again. “I demand to know how you did that!”

“It’s a Gusu Lan secret,” Lan Xichen retorts, smug enough that it almost feels like teasing. “In due time, I will share it with you, but at the moment, it’s impossible.”

“But there is a trick.”

“Obviously. Can you imagine how many servants we’d have to hire for laundry otherwise? We make children wear white, and people going on Night Hunts as well. Of course there’s a trick.”

It might be the way Lan Xichen says it, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, or the sheer ridicule of imagining Lan disciples in stained robes, but Nie Huaisang finds himself laughing. It's never easy to get that on days like this one, and he’s suddenly glad that Lan Xichen came. His fiancé is proving a more efficient distraction than what he’s tried so far.

When they reach the more frequented areas of the Unclean Realm, Nie Huaisang catches a servant and asks for tea to be served in his room. He then takes Lan Xichen there, inviting the older boy to find somewhere to sit. At first Lan Xichen appears torn between amused and mildly horrified by the mess (Nie Huaisang wasn’t expecting guests, and Nie Mingjue gave up on that particular fight years ago) before gaping in shock when Nie Huaisang removes his outer robe in the middle of the room and throws it in a corner for the servant to pick up later.

“Nie gongzi, are you really getting changed?” he asks, sounding so worried that Nie Huaisang can’t help laughing again.

“Lan gongzi, I’m covered in bird poop and mud, of course I’m getting changed. Ah! Don’t worry, I won’t remove the rest in front of you,” Nie Huaisang adds when Lan Xichen looks like he’s about to have an attack. He motions at a modesty screen. “I’m just removing my shoes and grabbing something clean to put on and then… I’ll try to be quick.”

“Wouldn’t you rather I leave the room?” Lan Xichen protests in a strangled voice, his face completely red.

“No need, that’s what the screen is for, and I’m not bothered. Just sit down, grab a book, and wait for me.”

Without paying his fiancé any more attention, Nie Huaisang selects some nicer robes and clean under layers. Once he starts undressing, he realises that he is dirtier than he initially thought, and is forced to give a quick wash with some water and a towel so he doesn’t ruin his clean clothes.

“I thought you were just getting changed?” Lan Xichen notes when he hears water being poured from its jug into a basin.

“The situation is worse than I thought. Cleaning is dirty business.”

Lan Xichen chuckles at that. “I’ll need to wash my hands as well, come to think of it.”

“Well, you can join me if you’d like. I’m mostly decent, if you’re loose enough on your definition of the word.”

“And what’s your definition?” Lan Xichen asks in a voice dripping with suspicion.

“I’ve got trousers on.”

A moment of silence follows this.

“I think I’ll wait until you’re done,” Lan Xichen says after a moment, and Nie Huaisang grins to himself imagining how uncomfortable his ever proper fiancé must look.

Still, it’d be rude to keep Lan Xichen waiting, and Nie Huaisang’s mood has improved enough that he doesn’t want that. He washes quickly, and gets dressed as fast as he can. His hair, as messy as the rest, is dealt with by tying it into a quick braid. It’s not the most refined he’s ever looked, but it’s not the worst either. When he emerges from behind the modesty screen, Lan Xichen stares at him with an odd expression, his cheeks dusted with red and his lips slightly open.

“Nie gongzi… this suits you well,” he mumbles, averting his gaze.

“Trying too hard again,” Nie Huaisang teases. “Go wash your hands, the tea should be here soon.”

Lan Xichen nods and gets up from the table. He takes a few steps toward the screen, then stops himself and looks for something inside his sleeve before handing it to Nie Huaisang.

“A letter?”

“Since Wangji knew I would be in the area, he asked me to give you this.”

Fidgeting with the piece of paper, Nie Huaisang feels something shifting inside him, as if the good humour he only just got back were already melting away.

“Well, that’s nice,” he stills says. “Do you mind if I start reading it?”

“Not at all.”

And so while Lan Xichen washes his hands, Nie Huaisang gets reading. It’s a short letter, clearly just written because the occasion was there (Nie Huaisang only answered Lan Wangji’s latest missive a few days ago, it wouldn’t have reached Gusu yet). Most of it is about the rabbits, though Lan Wangji notes that they are preparing for the next batch of guest disciples to arrive and he’s hoping they’ll be a quieter bunch this year. It’s only an innocent comment, but reading it makes Nie Huaisang ache for the company of his friends in a way he thought he’d learned to manage. It was so much fun to be all together in the Cloud Recesses, completely carefree. If he had known that he’d have to start behaving more grown-up upon getting home, Nie Huaisang would have gotten up to far more mischief, and he would have tried to enjoy his fun even more.

Just as Lan Xichen is done tidying himself, servants come in with the tea and some very fancy biscuits. Nie Huaisang gave specific orders regarding what’s to be served, amused at that moment by the idea of forcing his fiancé to enjoy something once in a while. It doesn’t seem so funny anymore, not even when Lan Xichen is looking at the biscuits with a mix of gluttony and worry.

It must show that Nie Huaisang’s mood is vacillating. When he’s done pouring tea for both of them, Lan Xichen has stopped staring at the treats and shoots him a concerned look instead.

"I hope the letter did not contain bad news?"

"No, it did not. I'm just distracted."

Lan Xichen sips on his tea and hesitantly picks up a biscuit, but does not eat it.

"Speaking of letters… I have to admit I envy my brother," he says in that cold, careful voice that still annoys Nie Huaisang with how controlled it sounds.

"How so?"

"When Wangji told me you agreed to a correspondence with him, I wanted to obtain the same from you," Lan Xichen admits, distractedly playing with his biscuit. "I even went to see you to ask for it, but in the end I wasn't sure if I should, so I said nothing. I didn't want to overstep some boundary."

Nie Huaisang thinks back on Lan Xichen's brief visit on the last day. He'd been disappointed when his fiancé didn't have anything to say to him that time. He doesn't exactly miss their excruciating weekly meetings but they were still part of what was clearly the best year of his life, and maybe he wouldn't have hated keeping in touch.

"You can always ask me now," Nie Huaisang offers. "We'll see what I answer."

"Very well. Nie gongzi, would you be willing to exchange letters with me?"

Nie Huaisang, to his own surprise, doesn't even hesitate.

"I'd like that, yes."

The smile that breaks onto Lan Xichen's face is nothing short of radiant. It's unfair, really, how gorgeous he gets when he's genuinely happy, and Nie Huaisang doesn't know how he feels about being the reason for that happiness. He doesn’t hate it, he supposes. He doesn’t hate Lan Xichen in general, in fact. It’s an odd thing to realise.

Nie Huaisang picks up a biscuit and bites into it, hoping to encourage his fiancé to stop being stupid and have a little fun. It works. Lan Xichen gives in and nibbles at his own biscuit. His eyes widen slightly as the flavour hits his tongue, and in a moment he devours the rest of it. Nie Huaisang snorts, more endeared than he’d prefer.

“So, do you want to talk about something?” Nie Huaisang asks, refusing to linger on the thought that his fiancé can be a little cute at times.

“Yes, actually. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now, but never found the right occasion yet,” Lan Xichen announces. “I would like to suggest some arrangements for when we are married.”

Nie Huaisang freezes and stares at him. As a rule, they don’t talk about their future marriage. They never have, except sometimes when arguing. Even in a good mood, Nie Huaisang wouldn’t want to breach that subject, so today, when he’s fighting the need to go hide until everything stop being so much…

“I don’t think I want to talk about that,” he replies, toying with his half eaten biscuit. “Lan gongzi, I don’t believe there’s much to be said on that topic.”

“On the contrary, I have plenty to tell you,” Lan Xichen insists. “I think it would please you to…”

“Not today,” Nie Huaisang cuts him. “I’m having the sort of day where nothing could please me, and quite frankly, that topic… it’s not something I want to think about at all. Can’t we chat about something less distressing?”

Lan Xichen frowns at that reaction. Nie Huaisang braces himself for his fiancé to insist, perhaps even for an argument to happen if Lan Xichen decides he’s tired of being nice without getting anything in return. Neither things happen.

“Of course I won’t force you to speak of this if you don’t want to,” Lan Xichen says with surprising gentleness. “I do believe we should discuss it while we have time, but if you’re unwell today, then the time isn’t right for it. Is there anything I can do to help you?”

“Not unless you can magically change my mood,” Nie Huaisang scoffs, uncertain how to react to kindness when he hasn’t prepared for it.

“I could try to do that,” Lan Xichen offers, startling him. “Or something to that effect. There are a few Lan songs that can calm an unquiet mind. I could play one for you, if you’d like.”

Nie Huaisang drops his biscuit on the table.

“I thought the Lan songs were just used for battle?”

Laughing softly, Lan Xichen shakes his head. “Those would be the one most people know about, but we have many other sorts. To calm the mind, to help the body heal, to improve the quality of meditation… we’re a musical sect, and we take that very seriously. Even now, some members of the sect still try to come up with new techniques.”

“I had no idea,” Nie Huaisang admits. “I didn’t really try to learn about Gusu Lan, aside from all your stupid rules.”

“Don’t worry, you’re not alone in that. Ask any cultivator what Gusu Lan does, they will tell you that we invent rules faster than the flowers bloom in spring, and that we’re deadly with a guqin. We’re more than that, though, just as Qinghe Nie is more than brute force and sabres.”

“Uh. Guess I’m learning a lot about your sect today,” Nie Huaisang muses. “Secrets to keep your robes clean, and healing songs… Lan gongzi, your people are more surprising than I’d have thought.”

"I'm glad if you feel that way," Lan Xichen replies, his smile warm and soft. "I hope you'll want to continue learning more about us. For now though, would you let me play for you?"

Nie Huaisang shrugs, and nods. If this works, his mood will be improved. If it doesn't… Lan Xichen is a skilled musician, so he'll have that pleasure if nothing else.

It takes a little more preparation than Nie Huaisang would have expected to hear a Lan healing song. He can’t help a slight grimace when Lan Xichen explains he’ll have to get into a meditative state, never an easy feat for him, but apparently the melody itself is meant to help with that. Nie Huaisang grumbles and mutters and struggles to find a comfortable position on his sitting mat, but once he’s somewhat settled, Lan Xichen starts playing on his xiao.

At first, Nie Huaisang is certain this won’t work. His brain is still jumping from one thought to the other, aching with the way he misses his friends, and how he can’t seem to enjoy being home even when he should enjoy it while it lasts because soon, in some months now, even if there’s no clear date yet…

But as the melody goes on, Nie Huaisang finds that it envelopes his thoughts and pacifies them. The fears and worries are still there, but their sharp edges which were hurting him are rounded off by the music, making them less distressing.

When the last note drops, Nie Huaisang takes a moment before opening his eyes, enjoying the peaceful feeling inside his heart. It had been a while since he felt this calm. In fact, he’s not sure he’s felt like that before, not since his mother's death.

“That’s a very efficient song,” he sighs when he finally opens his eyes, slow and deliberate. “Thank you, Lan gongzi.”

“It’s my pleasure. Did it help?”

Nie Huaisang nods. He feels oddly light, in a very pleasant way. “Lan gongzi, you’ll have to play it again for me next time we meet.”

Lan Xichen laughs softly, his eyes crinkling with joy. He really is handsome like this, and Nie Huaisang finds himself smiling at his fiancé. If Lan Xichen asked again to talk about their future marriage, Nie Huaisang would agree because for the very first time, the idea doesn’t fill him with dread. There are worse people to marry out there, and Nie Huaisang is starting to feel he might be as lucky as people have told him he was, all those years.

But Lan Xichen doesn’t bring up that subject again. Instead they end up chatting about Lan Wangji’s bunnies, and how much he dotes on them, which in turns makes them talk about the younger boy’s crush on Wei Wuxian. Nie Huaisang is just starting to share his cunning plan to bring both of them to Qinghe when there’s a knock on the door. Before Nie Huaisang can invite the person in, Nie Mingjue barges inside the room and unceremoniously comes to sit next to his brother.

“Very rude of you both to have tea and not invite me,” he comments, snatching a handful of biscuits and shoving them in his mouth.

“Gross!” Nie Huaisang gasps, wishing he had a fan to hit his brother with. He has to slap him with his hand instead, which is a lot less refined. “If you’re not invited, then why are you still here?”

“I can’t let my brat of a brother try to steal my friend,” Nie Mingjue retorts. “Besides, you always have the best biscuits when you’re having tea. How come I can never get them when I ask for them?”

“Because I hide them from you, having paid for them with my own money,” Nie Huaisang retorts, grabbing the plate and holding it out of reach when his brother tries to grab a few more. “Don’t! They’re not for you! Lan gongzi, help!”

Of course Nie Mingjue, being the tall, long limbed monster that he is, can almost grasp the plate even when his brother is trying his hardest to keep his precious biscuits out of reach. They are both stunned and nearly lose their balance when Lan Xichen snatches the plate away from Nie Huaisang’s hands, looking a little lost about what his next move should be.

“Run with them!” Nie Mingjue enthusiastically orders. “We can share them!”

Lan Xichen’s eyes jump between the two brothers a few times before he shakes his head.

“He said he paid for them,” he softly protests. “If you want some, ask him nicely.”

Nie Mingjue gasps at that betrayal while Nie Huaisang, after the first moment of shock, starts laughing so hard he can hardly breathe.

“Xichen, you turn against me like this?” Nie Mingjue complains. “Aren’t we friends?”

His tone is so falsely pathetic that Lan Xichen chuckles and grins.

“We’re friends, but he’s my fiancé. I’ve got to take his side when it's needed, don’t I?”

Nie Huaisang’s laughter dies in his throat, stunned for a moment by that simple declaration, the way Lan Xichen says it as if it’s the most evident thing ever. Something shifts inside his chest, something big, something so soft it is nearly agonising.

The moment passes quickly because Nie Mingjue, not one to accept betrayal so easily, turns against Lan Xichen and tries to steal the biscuits from him instead. This in turn forces Nie Huaisang to team up with his fiancé so they can protect the precious sweets from being eaten in an uncouth manner. All three of them laugh when, after some struggling and a movement too quick, the biscuits end up falling on the floor. Nie Huaisang pretends to be heartbroken until the other two both promise they’ll buy him new ones, at which point he just joins them again in laughing.

He’d never thought the three of them would ever have fun like this someday, but he’s glad to have been proven wrong.

#xisang #worst engagement au #jau writes #this one got a little long oops #but it's soft? I think? There's softness and there's progress and those dumb boys are going to get somewhere someday??#mdzs

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