#i cringed at myself for writing this but i couldn’t resist once i got the idea

[wildnya]

I don't recommend researching anything on a certain blonde guy from Star Rail. If you don't know, just don't think about it too hard.

but i’m a curious wittle submissive and breedable catboy? i want to know 🥺🐱🥺

[softukiyos]

the enemies to lovers project | lee minho

𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢 𝙩𝙮𝙥𝙚: 𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵; 𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘦 𝘢𝘶, 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧

𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙘𝙧𝙞𝙥𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣: 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘫𝘪𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘨'𝘴 𝘱𝘴𝘺𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘺 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘫𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦 -- 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘺, 𝘭𝘦𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘩𝘰, 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘪𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵. 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: ~18𝘬+

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨

𝘢/𝘯: 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺!!! 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦! 𝘪 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘩𝘩 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦 >.< 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘪 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵! 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴, 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥!

prologue.

“You know I despise you, right?”

“Oh, despise. Such a big word, baby,” Minho drawled with an obnoxious smirk, the one that simultaneously made you want to rip his hair out and kiss those perfectly delectable lips of his, “If it's any consolation, I abhor your presence as well.”

“Wonderful,” you crossed your legs, a smile creeping onto your face as you leaned backward in your chair, “So why exactly are you here?”

Minho laughed, “The same reason I presume that you’re here for. A hundred dollars to put up with you is a tempting offer.”

You couldn't help but laugh, and you glanced over at the camera pointed at you and Minho, with your mutual friend, Han Jisung, directing the operation. Right, both you and Minho would receive a hundred dollars if you participated in his little social experiment about love. Of course, he'd wanted the two of you to do it for free, but neither of you would budge unless there was at least a little bit of monetary incentive. You loved Jisung, you really did, but you weren't going to willingly spend time with Minho unless there was something else to gain. 

“Alright, let's get started before the two of you claw at each other's throats like a pair of angry cats,” Jisung clapped his hands together as he stepped out from behind the camera, “I assume the two of you have a basic idea of the experiment?”

“Of course not, Sungie. It's not like you ran through your proposal to me through FaceTime twenty thousand times before presenting it to your professors,” Minho replied with a pleasant smile. 

“And it's not like I read through your written proposal double that amount before you had the courage to hand it in,” you supplied with a similarly saccharine expression. 

Jisung sighed, rubbing his eyes with his fingers, “Why are the two of you genuinely the nicest people I’ve ever met but somehow turn into demons when you’re together?” He muttered, mostly to himself. 

“It’s not too late to get rid of us and find some other test subjects, Sungie,” you called out with a smile, “We know we’re hard to handle.”

“No way. The two of you are perfect for this project, and I’m not going to let either of you slip out of my fingers after I worked so hard to get you two here,” Jisung refused your offer. Clearing his throat, he decided to begin, not wanting to give either of you more time to get hostile.

“Alright, so you’re both familiar with the basics. The experiment will take about one month, and the data will be recorded in these notebooks,” he said, the camera behind him recording his verbal instructions as he walked forward and handed both you and Minho a small, leather bound notebook, “These will serve as your diaries for the duration of the test.” 

Minho perused through the empty lined pages with a snort, “What are we supposed to do, write our undying confessions on these pages?”

“You’re going to write your honest feelings about each other. And by honest, I mean really do mean honest. Neither of you are ever going to read what the other person writes about you, so you don’t have to worry about your reputation or whatever,” Jisung explained, “I’ll be extrapolating information from your entries and your entries only.”

You hummed in acknowledgement, glancing at Minho as he closed the book and and leaned back in his seat, “So that’s it, right? We date for a month and write down whether we still hate each other after every encounter?”

Jisung threw a weary glare at him, “Theoretically, yes. The purpose of this experiment is to see if the actions of love will foster any actual feelings of love to appear even if there weren’t any in the first place. The two of you will go on dates, leave each other cute notes, anything that you would do with your significant other. And after each of these, you will write down a diary entry about how you feel about that person. At the end of the month, I’ll collect the two notebooks to write my thesis. Any questions?”

You glanced at Minho, who raised a questioning eyebrow at you as if waiting for you to speak first. After a long moment of palpable silence, your lips curved into a smile, “A bold move of you to find the two people least likely to develop feelings for each other, Sungie.”

Jisung dropped his psychology major professionalism for a moment and smirked, “You know I never half-ass anything. So no questions?”

Minho raised his hand obnoxiously, speaking before Jisung even bothered to call on him, “What happens if one of us falls for the other? Do we win something?”

“No, you competitive little shit. No one is winning or losing anything. This experiment is just to document the progression of romantic feelings or lack thereof,” Jisung glared at his best friend, “You’re not trying to prevent yourself from changing your feelings about the person one way or the other, got it?”

But Minho was no longer paying attention to him, his annoyingly beautiful smile now aimed at you across the table, “You’re going to fall in love with me so quickly, Sungie’s little experiment will be over in a week.”

Your competitive edged roared to life at the provocation, and you smirked, flipping the pen around your fingers, “Your diary is going to be filled with love letters to me once I’m through with you.”

“Oh dear,” Jisung groaned to himself as he walked over to shut off the camera, a weary expression visible on his face.

This was going to be a very long month. 

i.

You never once thought there would come a day that you would walk out of your apartment to see Minho waiting for you, nonchalantly leaning against his blood red accented motorcycle and his famous leather jacket.

“What is this?” You asked suspiciously, as if poking at his intentions with a ten foot pole. 

Minho rolled his eyes, “I'm taking you to class? Why else would I have dragged myself out of bed at ass o’clock in the morning?”

“You're taking me to class on this?” You gestured toward the motorcycle with a hint of disdain, but Minho saw right through you, his lips curling in a smug smile.

“There's no need to be scared, baby,” he sauntered towards you and patted your head, “I'll always protect you.”

Scowling, you swatted his hand away, “Don't do that. It's so weird,” you huffed, fixing your hair. 

“You know that's the point of this whole damn thing, right?” Minho said with a hint of annoyance as he felt churlishly irritated by your constant resistance. Did you really hate him that much?

“No, the point is to do these actions in a genuine and heartfelt manner. Everything you say is fake,” you said plainly, looking him straight in the eye.

Minho couldn't help but scoff, “How is it supposed to be genuine when I don't feel anything for you?”

“You start off with basic friendship. That's not as hard, right?” You said as you reached into your large bag and pulled out a container of milk bread, “Here. This is my Day 1 gift for you.”

Minho’s face went slack as he took the container gingerly, treating it like a live explosive, “You made this?”

“Yeah, made two loaves last night,” you answered, surprised by the sudden softness in his tone. Okay, this was awkward, and you couldn't help but cringe as you extended your hand, “If you don't like it, I can take it back—”

“Hell no,” Minho yanked his arms away from yours and pulled the plastic container to his chest defensively, “You gave it to me, so it's mine!”

You blinked in surprise, your hand falling to your side, “I see,” you said before shifting on your heels and nodding, “Okay, I'll see you later, whenever that is,” you took the chance for a quick escape, turning and beginning to walk to class. 

“Wait.”

A gasp left your lips as Minho grabbed your wrist, making you turn back around to face him, “I have a helmet for you, okay? And I'll drive slower,” he muttered, his eyes trained on the floor and darting around anxiously, “I won't get you hurt, I promise." 

You studied him carefully, his tone of voice, his posture, anything that would give away some hidden agenda, but there was none. Looking down at his hand still wrapped around your wrist, you relented, "Alright, I'll go with you." 

Minho nodded, leading you over to his motorcycle and grabbing the extra helmet from behind. Before you could take it from him, he moved it out of your grasp, "Have you ever even used a motorcycle helmet before? If you put it on wrong, it's not going to do you any good," he said snappishly as he adjusted a few of the straps and fitted it onto your head. 

Unconsciously, you held your breath as he leaned towards you, slipping a finger between the strap and your chin before snapping it shut, "It's not too tight, yeah?" he asked as he pulled away, and you could only shake your head mutely, "Good." 

Swinging a leg over, he climbed onto his motorcycle, easily putting his own helmet on before turning to look at you as he pushed up the visor, "Here. Climb on behind me." 

You eyed the motorcycle with a hint of disdain as you approached it, “And what am I supposed to hold onto so I don’t fall to my untimely death?” You asked dryly.

Unfortunately, that was the wrong question to ask, and the gleam apparent in Minho’s eyes told you that, despite his surprising show of kindness, Lee Minho was still Lee Minho, and Lee Minho was a fucking asshole.

“Why, you hold onto me, of course,” he said pleasantly, “Unless, you’d rather fall off the bike and shatter your bones. The other option is to walk, but seeing that it’s almost 8:30 already, you’d probably end up being late.”

Clenching your jaw so hard you were sure it was going to be sore for days, you stalked over to the motorcycle and swung your leg over it, climbing on haphazardly. You’ve seen the movies; you knew how you were supposed to ride a motorcycle from behind, and your arms tentatively wrapped around Minho’s midriff, avoiding as much bodily contact as possible.

Minho snorted, “You know, if you hold on like that, you’re gonna fall off anyways.”

“Mind your own business--fuck!” A squeak left your lips as Minho suddenly revved the engine and the motorcycle lurched forward. Out of pure instinct, your arms tightened around him, and you buried your face in his back. The time could not have been more perfect, and you felt a rush of anger as you realized that he was just messing with you, “Don’t fucking do that!”

The asshole just laughed, “Aw, come on, I wouldn’t have done it for real. But you seriously need to hold on, okay?”

You huffed, scowling underneath the helmet as you kept your arms locked around his waist, begrudgingly learning your lesson, “Just drive.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” Minho revved the engine again and started the journey, albeit with a much smoother start as the two of you began to speed down the street and towards the literature building. 

When you arrived at your destination with Minho pulling up right to the front of the building, you were practically squeezing him like a life-sized plushie, your eyes squeezed shut and your face smushed into his leather jacket.

“You can let go now, darling,” he chuckled as he used his foot to push out the kickstand. Cheeks flushed with embarrassment, you detached from him like two magnets of the same pole, getting off the motorcycle. 

“I am--” you gasped for breath as you yanked off your helmet, “never doing that again.”

Minho laughed as he took the helmet from you and put it in the container at the back of his bike, “Hey, you’re here with five minutes to spare! If anything, you should be thanking me, sweetheart.”

Your glare was frightening as you finally relented with a huff, “I’m grateful for the ride here, but next time, no motorcycle, please.”

“Next time? Who said anything about a next time?” The boy positively giggled as you realized your mistake. Minho never said anything about a next time! What were you thinking? Now, he probably thought you wanted him to take you to school every morning, which was absolutely not the case!

“Oh, whatever!” You snapped, utterly fed up as you threw up your hands in total exasperation and marched up the staircase without so much as a goodbye. 

Minho’s smug laughter echoed in your ears as you stepped into the building, “Love you too, sweetheart!” 

~

(name): day 1 

action(s): drive to school 

notes: utterly infuriating. an arrogant, smug, flirtatious little shit that thinks he’s the king of the world. he brought his motorcycle out of the blue to pick me up when he knows i flipped out the last time i rode one with jisung (yes, sungie, i am still mad). 

i did get to class early though, because of him, and that’s rare for me. silver linings, i guess.

~

lee minho: day 1 

action(s): drive to school

notes: a stuck up little princess as always, whining and complaining about every little thing that doesn’t go her way. shouldn’t she be happy enough that i came to take her to her class? nope, she just kicked up a fuss about it being a motorcycle. did she think i was going to remember when she had a meltdown riding it last time? (it was funny, sungie, don’t mind her.) i barely got so much of a thank you when i got her to the lit building, early, no less.

the milk bread was good, though. maybe i’ll try to convince her to make me another loaf.

ii. 

First dates were always weird. First dates were even weirder when you were about to go out with your fake-social-experiment boyfriend that you didn’t even like.

What were you supposed to even wear? Were you supposed to dress to impress (not that Minho would ever be impressed with anything you do)? Or were you supposed to dress like you just rolled out of bed? In the end, you opted for something in between the two extremes, hoping that you weren’t going to face the embarrassment of being over or underdressed.

Luckily, Minho didn’t change his daily look too much for the date, opting for a pair of ripped black jeans, a loose t-shirt, and--of course--the leather jacket he never left home without. At this point, you were honestly convinced that Minho was having some sort of romantic relationship with that jacket.

But what was out of the ordinary was the small bouquet of vibrant carnations that he held in one hand as he browsed his phone with the other. They looked wildly out of place in comparison to the rest of his get up, and the contrast was so amusing to you that you couldn’t help but smile as you walked over to him.

“Are those flowers for me?” You asked sweetly, clicking your heels. Minho glanced up from his phone, his eyes darting up and down, and you knew he was assessing your outfit the way you had assessed his. 

“No, these are for my other social experiment girlfriend,” he said with a dry smile, handing them to you, “I heard from Jisung that you hate flowers, so of course I had to get you a bouquet for our special day.”

“Carnations are actually my favorite type of flower, so thank you very much,” you replied, sniffing at the bouquet before glancing around, “Where’s your motorcycle again? In maintenance?”

Minho’s face twitched for a split second before he nodded, “Yeah, I scratched it up real bad. We can just take the bus again.”

You narrowed your eyes in suspicion, but you said nothing more about the topic as the two of you walked to the nearest bus stations. After the first day, you had never seen Minho’s motorcycle again despite the fact that he walks you to your class almost every other day (he skips the days when he has work). What was even more suspicious was that he always had an excuse for not bringing it: he crashed it and it needs maintenance, he forgot to fill the gas tank, Jisung was borrowing it, etc. 

They weren’t bad excuses, but it’s been almost a week, and you were beginning to suspect that there was more to the missing motorcycle than he was telling you.

“Who recommended this place?” Minho asked as you took the seat at the station and he leaned against the wall.

“Jisung did, actually,” you laughed a little, pulling out your phone and clicking into the link of the restaurant Jisung had sent you, showing it to Minho.

The boy scrunched his nose with distaste as he glanced at the restaurant images, “Did you really think it was wise to leave our first date in the hands of the man who’s never actually had one successful date before?” 

“He said it was a control variable or whatever,” you said, placing your phone back in your purse, “Besides, I checked the reviews, and most of them only had good things to say. Why? Is this not your ideal first date?”

Minho scoffed, lips curling into a smirk, “I don’t really do first dates, sweetheart.”

“Oh? So what do you do?” You asked with a hint of annoyance clear in your tone, “One night stands?”

The boy shrugged, “Mostly. Why put the effort to try and create something concrete when it’ll fall apart soon enough anyway?”

You couldn’t help but scrunch your nose at his words, once again being hit with the realization that you and Minho were as different as people came, “That’s a rather morbid way of looking at things.”

“It’s realistic and it’s safe. That’s all I really need at this moment,” Minho said shortly as his eyes darted down the street, and he pushed himself off the wall, “The bus is here. Let’s go.”

Without stopping to wait for you, he walked to the edge of the sidewalk as the bus pulled up to greet him. There was nothing you could do but silently follow him, wondering what Minho had gone through to adopt such a cynical mindset about love. 

“What about you?” Minho asked rather suddenly when the two of you had arrived at the restaurant, settled into your table, and were already waiting for your food to arrive. There had been such a long interval of time between the previous conversation and the current one that you didn’t even process the intention of his question for a long moment.

“I’m sorry?”

Minho bit his lip, and he looked like he was regretting the fact that he couldn’t contain his curiosity, “What are your experiences with first dates?” He asked, resting his elbows on the table, “You have had a few, right?”

With a questioning eyebrow, you swirled the small amount of red wine in your glass, “I’m not quite sure whether your question is a genuine one or just another insult.”

“Why can’t it be both?” Minho asked innocently. 

Rolling your eyes, you sipped at your wine before answering, "I've had a few first dates, fewer seconds, and no thirds." 

Minho considered your words, "What went wrong? Clashing personalities? Scheduling conflicts?" 

You scowled, placing down your glass as you grit your teeth, "You're a nosy little shit, aren't you?" 

“Hey,” Minho raised his arms in mock surrender, “if I'm about to be your social experiment boyfriend for a month, I should know what I'm getting into, for my sake and yours.”

Leveling a withered glare at him, you couldn't help but begrudgingly admit that Minho had a point. If the two of you couldn't be honest with each other, this experiment wouldn't work. Like the mastermind had said early on, honesty was a key part of the project. Damn you, Han Jisung. 

“Eventually, every man gets annoyed by the fact that they'll always be second in importance,” you finally spoke as you swirl the wine again, “They say they understand, but in the end, they'll never settle for a woman who puts their passions over their relationships. They want attentiveness, constant coddling, constant affection. They want to be nagged, they want me to be the one that messages first, and I'm just not the type.”

For the first time, Minho’s gaze upon you was devoid of arrogance and that giant defensive wall he’d always had up. His expression had turned almost thoughtful in a way, as if he was really looking at you, really trying to see you for who you were, and you couldn’t help but cringe slightly under his stare, smiling bitterly, “Did I scare you off, too?”

Minho seemed to jolt out of whatever daze he was in, a laugh leaving his lips, “Nah, princess, you’re not getting rid of me that easily,” he chuckled, putting down his wine glass as he spoke again, “It’s not your fault that they felt inferior dating someone that was more driven than them. It’s their loss, honestly.”

“Really?” You failed to hide your surprise, not expecting to find support in someone that was so different from you.

“A relationship isn’t supposed to hinder you from doing the things you love. You’re supposed to do them in tandem and support each other during the process,” Minho said, and as you searched for the punchline, for the part of the conversation where Minho would bark out a scathing laugh and point at your disappointed face, you realized there was none. You suddenly had a strange revelation that you may have misjudged the man sitting across from you. 

“If you have such a wise impression about love, why do you never try it out?” You asked softly, studying his expression like always, but you stopped searching for something malicious about him, since the search had been fruitless so far. Now, you were simply curious, slowly trying to learn more about him.

Minho shrugged with a wry smile, “Just because the solution exists in theory doesn't mean it truly exists.” 

"You don't think you'll ever find someone like that?" You asked. 

"Well, if they're out there somewhere, they haven't shown up in my life yet, so..." Minho trailed off, his expression rather nonchalant at first glance, but you were slowly getting better at reading him. He felt wronged, probably by someone in the past that didn't support his endeavors. 

You let the conversation drop as your food finally arrived, and the seriousness of the evening seemed to dissipate as the food took precedence. When the bill was finally paid (the two of you split it after a long discussion), you walked out with your arm looped around Minho's, and despite yourself, you didn't hate it all that much. 

“So, we're gonna beat the shit out of Jisung for forcing us to go to such an expensive restaurant, right?” Minho hummed as the two of you walked back to your apartment. You tried not to focus on the fact that Minho hadn't pulled his arm away, keeping you snug against his side. 

“I like the way you think,” you laughed, your heels clicking against the ground, “Tell you what, how about the next date, you pick somewhere you normally go to in your free time, and I’ll do the same for the date after. That way, we don’t have to spend an atrocious amount of money unless we want to.”

Minho stopped short, and for a minute, you wondered if you’d overstepped his boundaries. Then, he turned to look at you, a surprised, almost soft, smile on his face.

“You want to see me that much?”

It would’ve been so easy to dismiss his words as sarcastic teasing, like the rest of your conversations have been for the past year that you’ve known each other. But his tone, his expression, it felt almost genuine, like he was pleasantly surprised that you were willingly offering up your own time to spend it with him.

And at that notion, your cheeks felt unnaturally hot as you averted your eyes, “Well, the experiment is supposed to last a month,” you mumbled, finding a very interesting divot in the ground, “What type of social experiment girlfriend would I be if we only went on one date?”

Unbeknownst to you, Minho’s smile dimmed ever so slightly at the mention of the experiment, but he still felt that weird, fluttery feeling nonetheless. He knew you were probably just too shy to admit anything truthful to his question, and he didn’t fault you for it. It wasn’t like he was being very honest either.

“Well, I rather enjoy our little escapades, so I suppose I can spare a little effort to plan the next date,” Minho said with faux weariness, making you elbow his side playfully. 

“I swear, if you drag me to another horror house like you did when we went out with Jisung--”

Minho let out a laugh at the memory, “Didn’t you punch the zombie that jumped out near the end?”

“Not a word.”

“And I think you screamed at one of the ghosts, too?”

You frowned, reaching up and messing up his perfectly styled hair, “Not a word!”

Minho didn’t take any of your threats to heart, teasing you relentlessly about that incident all the way back to your apartment, but to be totally honest, you didn’t mind it all that much.

~

(name): day 6

action(s): first date (control)

notes: the date wasn’t bad except for the ridiculous pricing. we actually had rather interesting conversations about our interests, outlooks on life, and had a rather heated argument about whether prisoner of azkaban or the order of the phoenix was the best harry potter book. 

minho’s nice. i know you’re probably laughing at me as you read this, future jisung. but he’s nice. the flowers he got were really pretty. he’s a good listener, too, and he doesn’t give false comforts. he tells it to me as it is, whether it’s good or bad. i like that about him. he also looked really good for the date, but that’s rather surface level, right? whatever. i hope this is even minutely useful to your project, jisung, bcs it doesn’t feel like it’ll be much help.

~

lee minho: day 6 

action(s): first date 

notes: han jisung. the meal was $150 and we both ordered the cheapest things on the menu. fucc you. 

the date was alright, though. (name) actually got dressed up for the date, so i felt a little bad. she’s putting more effort into this project than i thought she would, and i don’t know whether its because she genuinely wants to know me better, or if its bcs it’s your project, jisung. (i know she used to like you, it was obvious). whatever. she’s easy to talk to when we’re not at each other’s throats like usual. she makes me feel understood, which is a good feeling i guess. 

this absolutely does not mean anything special. it just means that she’s not as stuck up as i thought she was. the bar is still incredibly low.

i wonder where i should take her for our next date. the horror house is tempting, but she’s probably going to get sued if she shows her face there ever again. oh well, i’ll figure it out.

iii. 

“Why are we heading towards the direction of the horror house?”

“I promise you, sweetheart, it’s not the horror house,” Minho said for the umpteenth time as the two of you walked down the busy downtown streets together.

You remained suspicious, and as a chill blew towards you, the winter wind seeping into your bones and making your teeth chatter, you brought your hands to your mouth, blowing on them in an attempt to get them warm.

Minho let out a dramatic sigh at the sound of your silence, “Do you have any faith in me at all?” He asked, taking one of your hands and lacing your fingers together before shoving it in his coat pocket without faltering for a moment.

He seemed unfazed, oblivious even as the two of you stopped at a crosswalk, but you...your poor heart did a feeble stutter that certainly wasn’t the product of any social experiment. You knew the feeling well enough from your past experiences, and the fact that it emerged right at this moment made you worry.

“What?” Minho’s voice invaded your thoughts as he followed your line of sight to his coat pocket, where your hand was snugly fitted inside his. 

You tried your best to salvage what was left of your pride, “Aren’t my hands cold?” You asked weakly, “You don’t have to hold them.”

“Yes, your hands are like fucking ice, that’s why I’m trying to warm one of them up, dummy,” Minho rolled his eyes at your lame question before turning to check on the light to make sure it was still on red, “We’re almost there. The place is cozy, I promise.”

Nodding, you slowly felt your composure return to you, “As long as we get out of this cold, I'd consider it a successful date.”

“Oh dear, you've just ruined my plans for a picnic up in the mountains,” Minho said with a deadpan expression just as the light turned green.

“You're ridiculous,” you said, rolling your eyes, but there wasn't any bite behind your words anymore, and Minho’s jabs at you had slowly lost that hard edge to them. Could it be possible that the two of you were really warming up to each other?

It was true that the two of you were getting along better, and in tandem, you began to be more present in each other’s lives. Minho still walked you to school on the days that he didn't have work. In return, it's become a normal routine for you to make two loaves of milk bread every other day since Minho always devoured his portion ridiculous quickly. 

Not in a romantic way, absolutely not. Both of you would cringe at the very idea. But as tolerant friends, maybe. 

“Ah! Here we are,” Minho said pleasantly as he guided you off the busy street into a smaller, quieter alleyway filled with various cafes and antique shops.

“A cafe date?” You smiled, “I didn't know that was your style.”

Minho stopped short at a particular cafe, taking his hand and yours out of his pocket as he reached forward to open the door, “Well, it's not just any cafe.”

You quickly realized exactly what he meant as you walked in, your eyes lighting up with pure elation and joy as you squealed, “It’s a cat cafe!” 

Unbeknownst to you, Minho’s eyes lit up from behind you as he shut the door, keeping the winter cold out of the cozy establishment, “You like cats?” He never knew that about you.

“Like cats? I love them!” You practically gushed as you shrugged off your large coat and Minho signaled for a party of two, greeting a few of the waiters with a suspicious familiarity. 

“Do you come here often?” You asked curiously as the two of you found a nice little corner to sit down in, complete with beanbags, blankets, and little wooden surfaces that were meant to serve as tables.

Minho almost didn't need to answer your question, since the moment he sat down, four cats passed over towards him, the sound of gentle meows filling your ears. You didn't think you'd be able to hear anything more sweet, until you were proven wrong when Minho let out a soft giggle, his expression unbelievably fond as he stretched out his hand, petting their heads and scratching their ears.

When had you ever heard Minho giggle? No, not that psychotic little witch giggle he did when he was feeling diabolical. This childish, almost innocent giggle that burst from his lips. 

“I come here at least twice a week,” he said as one of the kittens clambered into his lap, “I have three cats back at home with my family, and when I miss them, I come here.”

You nodded, surprised that he was divulging information about him without being prompted, but you didn’t mind it one bit, “That’s nice. I’m sure they miss you, too,” you said, smiling as one of the more curious cats went over to you, sniffing at your hand before pressing their head against your palm.

“I’m sure they do. I was basically their servant,” Minho laughed before turning to you, “Do you have pets?”

“Oh, I wish,” your voice was forlorn and wistful as you began to rub the cat’s belly, feeling a rush of pride as they laid on their side. It was rare for any cat to do such a thing, and you treasured the moment dearly, “I had a kitten when I was very, very young, but they died only a few months after we got them. I haven’t been able to muster the courage to adopt another pet since.”

Minho pouted at the way your voice trailed off, your expression faraway, and he suddenly felt an urge to gift you a kitten right then and there just to make you smile. He was long used to seeing you angry, he was getting used to seeing you when you were at peace and smiling, but he’d never actually seen you look so wistfully sad before. 

“Well, you’re always welcome to use my membership card here if you need a break from school,” he offered rather awkwardly, keeping his eyes on the cats so he wouldn’t have to feel the brunt of your expression, which was probably weirded out. 

“You’d let me?” You sounded hopeful, giggling to yourself as a cat jumped into your lap, curling up and burrowing against your stomach.

Minho smiled, turning his head to see the way you were coddling the little kitten, stroking her fur with utmost delicacy and with nothing but pure adoration in your eyes. He was suddenly hit with the realization that you were incredibly beautiful, and his brain almost immediately imploded.

Wait, what? Lee Minho?! Who the fuck are you turning into?!

Unaware of his current struggle, you glanced at him when you didn’t receive an answer, and he scrambled to clear his throat, “O-of course,” he said, “You’d get a 15% discount on drinks. Super handy.” 

If you noticed his strange behavior, you didn't comment or make a face, only gazing down at the kitten in your lap as you asked teasingly,, “Does this girlfriend benefit only last the month?”

It was a joke, not at all different from the ones both of you made on a daily basis, making jabs at your rather intriguing situation, this one seemed to really hit Minho. What was going to happen when the month ends? Will the two of you go back to hating each other and fighting every moment of the day? Will all these little acts of love, the way you would occasionally drop off a bento box at his dance studio and the way he’d pick you up after your late night classes so he could make sure you were safe, would that all disappear like a dream?

“Hello? Earth to Minho?”

Minho blinked out of his daydream, tilting his head towards you to see you already looking at him with a concerned smile, “Are you alright? You seemed pretty faraway.”

“Nah, I’m good. I just remembered that I have a coding assignment due tonight,” he lied, a light tinge of rouge on his cheeks. 

“What?!” you yelped, scaring the cat in your lap as they meowed in discontent, jumping off you, “We should get going then--”

“Hey, hey, calm down,” Minho grabbed your arm as you stood up, and with your balance tilted, you fell back onto the beanbag couch, although this time, you were much closer to Minho than you originally were. To stabilize yourself, your hand jutted out to press against his chest, and his breath hitched in his throat.

What sort of black magic was Han Jisung doing to him with this experiment?

“Sorry!” You squeaked out, your embarrassment clearly visible as you tried to push away from him, but Minho kept you close until the two of you were almost cuddling on the beanbag couch. 

Minho only hummed, feigning nonchalance even as his heart was doing strange backflips in his chest, “It’s fine. You’re still cold, right? I saw you shivering a bit. You can just sit here,” he said, shrugging off his coat and placing it over your legs.

“I guess...thank you,” you said rather quietly, not trusting your voice to hide the emotions that were raging in your heart: the confusion, the giddiness, the childlike excitement, and the fear, “But what about your assignment--”

“Don’t worry,” he patted your head lightly, “It’s just a simple one. Won’t take more than an hour. I’ll just do it when I get home.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure,” Minho emphasized the last word with a teasing smile, his heart slowly coming to terms with these new, tingling emotions that he was feeling, “I never knew I’d ever experience you babying me.”

Your cheeks grew warm as you smacked his arm, “Shut up!” You complained, bringing his coat up to your face and shielding yourself, “I’m just trying to make sure you don’t flunk out of school!”

“Don’t lie, you’ve fallen in love with me, haven’t you?” He asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief only to receive another angry smack on the arm.

“You wish. I don’t fall in love with jerks like you.” 

“If it makes you feel better, I am honored by the attention,” he said with a teasing smile as he nudged your shoulder. 

Another kitten came to your position, rubbing against your thigh as you petted their little head, “You better be,” you muttered almost to yourself, “After all the bentos I’ve made for you this last week.”

Minho let out a yawn, stretching out his arms and very cautiously wrapping one around your shoulders. To his luck or misfortune, you were too enamored by the kitten to notice, and you curled into his side without much consideration. The poor boy wasn’t sure whether he wanted you to notice and confront him about it, or whether he should be allowed to feel a sense of fondness knowing that you were dropping the defensive walls around your heart with him.

He won’t tell you, but he was truly honored to be cared by you, to experience your worry, your encouragement, and your little acts of love. It came so naturally to you that you probably didn’t even hold any of those actions to any significance, but to him, the one who was always the lone wolf, the one who was always defined by his looks before his personality, it was nice to be truly seen by someone. 

Even if it wasn’t going to last. 

iv.

Lee Minho was late, and you were going to kick his ass if you didn't happen to be frozen by the time he arrived. 

You stood outside of the computer science building awkwardly, trying not to focus on the weird glances from the students walking in and out, all of whom were obviously wondering what a literature freak was doing at the center hub of the sciences. It was absolutely mortifying, and you briefly wondered if Minho ever got such stares while he waited for you outside of your building. If he did, well, you felt slightly more grateful than you did previously.

“Hey! (name), right?” 

You looked up with panic in your eyes as you quickly tracked the sound of the voice to one familiar stranger, a particular boy on campus that you never actually ever thought you'd have the opportunity to speak to.

“That's me, and I assume you're Hyunjin,” you said, getting straight past formalities. After all, you weren't really in the mood for chitter-chatter. You were just in the mood for a nice hot chocolate to warm your body. 

But unfortunately for you, Hyunjin’s disarming smile was a clear indicator that there were no escape routes plausible, “Wow, no wonder Minho snatched you up quick.”

If you had a tail, it would've bristled at this very moment, “Excuse me?” You asked, keeping your tone decidedly cordial.

Hyunjin’s smile only widened, “What is he like as a boyfriend? Does he treat you well? Or are you just another piece of disposable garbage for him like every other girl he’s fucked?” 

The final question shouldn't have fazed you, but it did. Why did the idea of such a thing send your heart into cardiac arrest? Why did it scare you so much, when you knew none of this was real? Wasn't it all just manufactured by the conditions of the experiment?

Your face must've given away more than you thought, because Hyunjin’s cheshire-like grin only widened as he took your vulnerability as a chance, “You don't have to be with him, you know. Don't you think we'd get along a little better—”

“Really fucking low of you to be trying to hit on your friend’s girl,” a hand suddenly snaked around your waist from behind, making you gasp as you felt your back pulled against someone's firm chest.

“Especially my girl,” Minho’s eyes showed not a hint of amusement or politeness as he rested his chin on your shoulder almost protectively, as if daring Hyunjin to try again.

Hyunjin regarded the two of you with cautious intrigue, his eyes darting from Minho’s hand on your waist to his face now nuzzled in the crook of your neck, and he lifted his hands up in mock surrender.

“Just wanted to make sure you know how lucky you are,” he smiled at Minho pleasantly, leaning forwards as his eyes sparkled when they met yours. Now, you may dislike Hyunjin, but you couldn't deny his beauty, and at such a distance, you couldn't help but feel a bit flustered as he purred, “And how easily that luck can be taken away from you.”

Minho bared his lips in a threatening snarl from behind you, making Hyunjin scoff as he turned away from the two of you without another word. A moment of tense silence screamed in the air before you cleared your throat awkwardly. This was definitely not a good way to start off a date.

“Well, that was weird,” you laughed, detangling yourself from Minho’s hold so you could face him, “I never thought I’d see the day where Hwang Hyunjin would flirt with me while he’s sober.”

“He’s such a fucking asshole,” Minho suddenly spit out with a surprising amount of vitriol in his tone, enough to fluster you for a moment, “Going after someone who’s obviously dating, he just doesn’t have any shame anymore! Plus, I was literally walking behind you. He definitely saw me before he made a move.”

Finding his behavior utterly bizarre, you stared at him for a long moment before you could even speak, “Are you...pretending to be jealous?”

“What?” Minho blinked, as if suddenly realizing that you were still there witnessing the extent of his ranting. And then, your question hit him like a ton of bricks, “What the fuck? I’m not pretending to be jealous, I--”

He stopped himself before he could do any more verbal damage to his own reputation, but inside, his head in shambles.

I’m not pretending to be jealous, I am jealous. 

What was happening to him?

From the look on your face, Minho could tell you were a mixture of confused and suspicious, but you didn’t press him for more details or to finish his sentence. That was one thing he really appreciated about you. If he didn’t elaborate on his words, you trusted that he didn't say more because it simply didn't need to be said. 

"Well, we should probably get going," you said, slipping your arm around his, "I was freezing my ass out here waiting for you." 

"Then, perish." 

"You're the worst social experiment boyfriend I've ever had!" You complained, your pout clear from the sound of your voice as Minho let you lead him to whatever date surprise you had in mind. 

“I’m the only social experiment boyfriend you’ve ever had,” he pointed out reasonably, resting his head on yours while you waited for the traffic light to change. 

You let out a huff, trying to push him off you, but it was rather fruitless to make Minho do anything, really, “You’re still the worst,” you said, trying to tickle your way out of the situation.

Minho only chuckled. Two could play at this game, he thought smugly as your attacks failed and he wrapped his arms around you from the side, pulling you snug against him so he could nuzzle his head into the crook of your neck, tickling your skin with his hair and making you shriek.

“Lee Minho, I swear to God!” Despite the slurry of curse words that left your mouth, you were laughing and made no genuine attempts to pull away from him. You’ve noticed over the last few weeks that Minho was never one for blatant physical affection, but he was being abnormally clinging today. 

“Admit it, kitten,” he teased, peeking up at your expression as he smiled, “I’m the best boyfriend you’ve ever had.”

The world around you seemed to freeze as the weight of that question fully sunk in. Was Minho the best boyfriend you’ve ever had? You thought back to every awkward first date, every time the guy looked strangely disappointed when you said you wanted to head home by yourself, every time one of them awkwardly mentioned that they wanted you to cheer them on at the expense of your own passions. You thought through all of those memories before you realized oh my god Minho was the best boyfriend you’ve ever had.

“Hmm? Oh, come on, I was kidding,” Minho seemed oblivious to your plight as he took your silence as a rejection, beginning to let go. 

“You are.”

The words slipped out of your lips before you even realized what you had said. Minho’s eyes widened rather comically as he tried to make sure he was making the right mental connections in his head.

“I am?” He repeated slowly.

“You are...the best boyfriend I’ve ever had,” you muttered the last half, your face burning as if you’d eaten a whole bag of Flaming Hot Cheetos. 

Minho blinked, his entire system short-circuiting.

“Oh.” 

“Yeah,” you said, awkwardly shuffling on the heels of your feet before you found your escape, “Oh, green light! Let's get moving!” Your voice was bright and overly cheery as if you didn't just drop a bombshell of a revelation on both Minho and yourself. 

Minho practically stumbled over his own feet to catch up to you, “H-hey!” He grabbed your hand before you could pass the halfway point of the large intersection, where the light was manually turned red by one of the buses.

You glanced down at your intertwined hands and back up at his face before answering softly, “Thanks.”

He nodded in response, trying not to put too much attention to the way your fingers curled around his, trying not to put too much attention to the way your hand fit in his, and asked, “So, where are we going?”

“Well, you brought me to the place you like to go to destress, so I figured I would do the same,” you answered, reaching into your back pocket and pulling out a key that looked suspiciously like Jisung’s access card to the music building.

“Tell me you didn't steal Jisung's access card.”

“It's not stealing if I'm returning it before he knows what happened,” you shrugged.

“Um, yes it is.”

You glanced up at him with a playful smile, “You gonna rat me out, darling?”

That name of endearment shouldn't have affected him so much, but it did, and he physically had to restrain himself from holding your hand tighter as he scoffed, “I'm no snitch, especially not when it comes to my beautiful social experiment girlfriend.” 

You let out a laugh, “You’re definitely the king of heart fluttering pet names.”

The rest of the walk to the music building was filled with idle chatter as the two of you slowly got back into the rhythm of your usual banter. At some moments, it was even easy to forget about the way you’d hug his arm to your chest as if shielding yourself from the cold. It was even easy to forget about the way his hand would gently squeeze yours if he felt you shiver too violently beside him, a silent check up on you. It was far too easy to call all of these little actions as normal, as if he was actually your boyfriend. 

“Are you sure we're not going to get caught?” Minho asked as the two of you walked to the side door of the music building. Although, he didn't sound very concerned about potentially getting in trouble, only slightly curious. 

You slid Jisung’s card into the reader and the door unlocked with a click, “I've done this for years. Even if people do check the rooms, there's lot of places to hide.”

The boy only chuckled, holding the door open so the two of you could walk in and escape from the biting winter cold. After wiping off your shoes using the doormat, you gingerly took his hand again and lead him up the stairs to the end of the hall where you pulled him into a dark room.

“Kitten, if you wanted to find a private little place for us to have some fun, we didn’t need to go all the way to the music room,” Minho said, amused, “I know plenty of lockable closets around the campus—”

“That’s so gross,” you said as you turned on the light, revealing that the two of you were in one of the group music rooms, with a piano sitting at the center of the room and a couple of instruments stored on the sides. 

Minho placed a hand on his heart, “Mean,” he huffed accusingly at you. He was mostly kidding, of course, but a part of him felt a genuine despair at the fact that you didn't seem to be remotely flustered or enticed by the idea of being with him in that way, with such intimacy. 

“Don't worry, Min. There will be plenty of fish out there desperate to jump into your arms soon enough,” you flashed him a wry smile as you grabbed one of the guitar cases and brought it to the carpet near the piano.

“Min?” He repeated, the nickname making him feel slightly better even as your words dampened his spirits. Did you really think he would be that eager to go back to his normal “no-strings-attached” routine after this month? 

For the first time, you looked a little flustered as you sat down on the soft carpet, opening the guitar case with a few clicks of the locks, “Sorry. Do you hate it?” You asked sheepishly, “I just figured that you give me so many petnames, I should try to give you one, too. But if Min isn't good—”

“It is!” The boy interrupted a little too eagerly. Catching your surprised expression, he immediately controlled himself, clearing his throat awkwardly as he sat down across from you, “Yeah, Min is fine. Min is good. It's just...new.”

“No one's ever called you Min before?” You asked with a curious expression while you pulled out the guitar with what Minho noticed was practiced ease.  

He shrugged, “I don't think anyone’s ever given me a nickname before.”

I don't think anyone’s ever reached that level of closeness with me, was the unspoken follow-up to his statement. After all, what type of one-night stand would ever result in names of endearment or genuine emotional attachment?

“Hmm...maybe I should take it up a notch and call you Minmin,” you said absently, testing the tension of the strings and being totally unaware of the spiral you just send Minho down on.

Minmin? Minmin? The poor man was turning into a pile of mush before you and you didn’t even know what you did. Minho was sure that if you ever called him Minmin, he’d throw away everything to do as you asked. 

“If you want,” he said, shuffling awkwardly as he sat across. 

You glanced up at him, giggling as you finished tuning up the instrument, “So this is my de-stress room,” you said, “I like occasionally coming here to write songs or just play the instruments here.”

“You play instruments other than guitar?” Minho asked, sounding rather impressed.

“I used to play piano as a kid, actually,” you explained with a smile as you checked the A string, “Jisung taught me how to play guitar in our first year here.”

Minho bit his lip, struggling to keep control over his expressions, “Right.”

Never before in his life did Minho ever think that he’d be sitting across from you and feeling jealous about Han Jisung’s relationship with you. It wasn’t secret knowledge; he knew you used to like his friend, and you used to like him very much. It wasn’t like Minho minded; you were the one of the decent ones and you genuinely liked Jisung for who he was. Something must’ve happened in the middle of the second year, because you gradually seemed to pull away from Jisung at least in a romantic manner. Minho never thought much of it. But now, he was beginning to fully realize how close you and Jisung actually were, and how much that was beginning to bother him.

Did you still like Jisung? That was the question that always haunted his mind. Were you doing all of this for the boy in your past when Minho was here falling harder every single day? 

“Hey, Min?” 

Your voice broke into his thoughts as his ears perked up, “Yeah?” He answered with an uncharacteristically gentle voice. There was something about the way you spoke that felt hesitant and uncertain, rather unlike you, and he wanted to make sure that you felt comfortable being here with him.

“D-do—“ you swallowed nervously, “do you want to hear one of my songs?”

Minho’s eyes widened. As a friend of Jisung and the other two famous producers on campus, he was no stranger to hearing music that they produced. But because of that, he knew how much these songs meant to the people who wrote them. How personal they can be, and how terrifying it could be to share them with others. And the fact that you were willing to bare that part of your soul to him was a gesture of trust that he’d never expected.

“Do you want me to listen?” He asked with caution, “You really don’t have to if you don’t feel comfortable.”

“I do!” You blurted out before your cheeks grew warm, “You shared a big part of yourself with me when you took me to that cat cafe, so I wanted to do the same.”

Minho felt a little speechless, so all he could do was nod and give you an encouraging smile. Taking his gesture as acceptance, you cleared your throat softly and began to strumming out a simple chord progression. 

The poor man was immediately entranced. There wasn’t any hope for him anymore. The moment you opened your mouth to sing, Minho fell into silent awe as he let your soft, soothing voice flow through his body. There was something so present about your voice, about the lyrics you sang. Everything just felt so raw that all he could really do was watch and listen with a gentle smile on his face.

When you finished, you opened your eyes and hesitantly turned to face him, “Well?” You prodded, a hint of nervousness slipping out of your lips. 

It took Minho a few moments to put his thoughts together, and even then, they weren’t totally coherent. Nothing like the smooth-tongued, cheeky persona he always embodied, “That was--wow,” he stumbled over his words.

To his luck, you didn’t seem bothered by his failure to string his words together, but only smiled encouragingly, “A good wow, I hope?” You asked. 

“Definitely a good wow. The best wow,” he nodded fervently as you laughed, waiting for him to continue, “Did you ever take classes like Jisung and Chan?”

“Oh, no. I definitely don’t have the extra money for that,” you said, resting your arms on your guitar, “But I’ve always loved to sing, and I’ve always loved hearing other people sing, too. My first childhood crush was this really cute busker who sang Hey There Delilah once near my city’s shopping street.” 

Minho’s lips quirked up in a smirk. This was much more comfortable territory for him, especially when it means teasing you, which is honestly all he ever did, “A childhood crush, huh?” He drawled, stretching out his legs, “So you have a thing for people with good voices?”

“Absolutely,” you nodded, “If anyone has a good singing voice, I’m at least 40% more inclined to fall in love with them.”

“Wow,” he let out a laugh, “That is an incredibly significant statistic. I’m almost worried about how shallow you are.”

You let out a noise of indignation as Minho only laughed harder, fending away your useless attacks, “I am not shallow!” You snapped, your cheeks feeling warm, “Having a good singing voice is just an added bonus!”

“Sure, sure,” he teased, even going so far as to pinch your cheek playfully, “Is that why you fell in love with Jisungie?”

“I’m not in love with Jisung--”

“Yeah, yeah, I know you aren’t now,” Minho waved his hand dismissively, even though deep in his heart, he didn’t actually know and that was why he approached the topic in the first place, “But you were in love with him back then, right?”

The withering glare you gave him was weak at best, and you sighed, hugging your guitar to your chest as if it was your own personal shield, “Yes, I was. But that was years ago and we agreed to be just friends. It was awkward in the beginning, but I’m content with the relationship we have now.” 

“You are?” Minho asked, trying to sound casual as he picked a piece of lint off his pants.

You nodded surely enough for him to see that you were being genuine, “I am. Jisung is just a friend, nothing more.”

Why Minho seemed so interested in the topic that he’d ask not one, but two follow-up questions about Jisung, you didn’t know. If you didn’t know better, you’d think it was jealousy or a way of making sure that you were emotionally available, but you did know better, and you knew that Lee Minho wasn’t that type of person.

Trying to bridge what was becoming an awkward silence, you cleared your throat and asked, “Do you have a favorite karaoke song? We could do a jam session here if you’re comfortable with singing.”

“You want me to sing after hearing how good you sound?” Minho scoffed in disbelief.

You visibly pouted, and Minho’s defenses immediately weakened, “Aww, I promise I won’t judge! And besides, Jisung said that you sounded good the last time you two went to the karaoke bar. It’s just the two of us, Min,” you smiled encouragingly, “We’re just here to have fun!”

Fuck everything. Fuck you and your gentle words, your soft smiles, your teasing eyes. Everything about you just made Minho want to lower all his walls and embrace all that you want to do. Letting out a sigh, he relented, “Fine. Do you know Congratulations by Day6?”

“Uh, I think the question is who doesn’t know Congratulations by Day6.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Minho scowled as you laughed, shifting the capo slightly higher on the neck of the guitar to the right tuning. Giving you time to get ready, Minho pulled up the lyrics on his phone to make sure he didn’t mess up unnecessarily in front of you. It shouldn’t matter, of course, but there was a weird fluttering in his stomach that made him almost believe that he was nervous. 

When the two of you were finished fiddling around, you glanced up at him, smiling, “Ready? I’ll give a four count,” Minho nodded, and after you rapped your knuckles against the body of the guitar four times, he opened his mouth and began to sing. 

His voice and your playing blended together almost magically, and it felt like the rest of the world disappeared as he continued to sing, disregarding his phone since he seemed to know the lyrics by heart. All you had to do was follow along with your gentle strumming, listening and keeping up to the natural inflections of his voice. The room felt cozier, the sterile fluorescent lights felt warmer, and you were getting lost in the ethereal picture of Minho when--

“Why are the lights on in the hallway?” 

The two of you immediately stopped as you glanced at each other, eyes comically wide. It seemed like, much to your luck, the security guard happened to choose that very day to make his rounds, despite skipping every other day during the week. 

“Put the guitar away! I’ll turn off the lights!” Minho hissed at you as he bolted to the wall of the room and you went to place the guitar back in its case as quickly and carefully as possible. Luckily, the music room didn't have any windows on the door, and the guard couldn’t see what was happening inside unless he actually entered the room. 

The two of you just managed to put the guitar back in its original state and turn off the lights just as his footsteps neared the door. In a split second, Minho grabbed your arms and yanked you into one of the bass storage compartments, closing the closet door right before the guard opened the door to the music room, looking around curiously. 

Neither of you could even breathe in the crammed space of the closet as you tentatively waited for the guard to check the room. The storage compartment left almost no wiggle room, and Minho’s arm stayed wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you snug against his chest so the two of you could fit.

Oh god, this was too much for you. The thumping of his heart against yours, the tickling of his hair against your ear as he had to dip down to avoid thumping his head against the top, the grip he had on your waist as his thumb rubbed your side, an instinctive attempt to calm your nerves. 

The silence screamed in the room, and the two of you held your breaths before the footsteps exited the room, and the door clicked closed. Even still, both of you stayed totally quiet for a few moments longer before Minho let out a soft chuckle.

“This is definitely a closet I haven't explored.”

You swatted at his arm, “Now is not the time to make dirty jokes!” You scolded, but Minho accepted your angry hands, happily holding you snug against his chest as he laughed. 

“If not now, then when?”

“How about never?” You rolled your eyes as you lifted your head to glare up at him, but your intentions seemed to die out the moment you realized just how close the two of you were. Minho’s face was not inches, but centimeters away from yours, your noses almost brushing and your foreheads so close that you could practically count his eyelashes. 

Minho gulped, staring down at you in panic and awe as he struggled to maintain his composure. There was so much he could do, so much he’s done before; this position shouldn’t be all that shocking for him. As he’d said before, he has had his fair share of sloppy closet makeouts and even a little more than that. Cramming into a storage closet with his arms around you shouldn’t be enough to send his mind and heart into overdrive.

But they were, because he’s never met anyone that set his heart alight like you did. His eyes trailed obviously to your lips, the way that yours eyes did to his, but he couldn’t find it in himself to make the first move. There was something holding him back, an irrational fear that prevented him from moving too quickly, a fear that he might scare you away.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked softly, your hands finding their home on his chest as neither of you made moves to pull away.

“About how this date took a rather strange turn,” he answered instead, his eyes glittering with amusement.

To his surprise, you look flustered and a bit ashamed at his words, “Ah, I am sorry,” you apologized, “I didn’t think it was going to turn out like this. They never check the rooms, and I just wanted to show you a place where I--”

A gasp fell out of your lips as Minho pulled you forward until your body collided with his chest. He engulfed you in a tight hug, his face buried in your hair as he mumbled with what you could discern was a hint of trepidation and shyness, “Don’t be sorry. Thank you for showing me this side of you.”

Your hands stilled behind him, your eyes widening as you felt him hold you tighter. You could feel the beat of his heart, the trembling in his breath, and the remainder of the walls around your heart all but collapsed as you snaked your arms around his midriff, snuggling your face into his shoulder and marveling at how perfectly you fit against him.

“Thank you for giving me the chance,” you murmured, your voice muffled by his familiar leather jacket as you smiled, “You know…”

“Hmm?” Minho answered absently, holding you close.

“I like this better than fighting.”

Minho couldn’t help but giggle at the sheer simplicity of your statement, and he couldn’t help but feel inclined to agree with you.

“Yeah, me too.”

v.

“Fuck!” 

Minho let out a trail of belligerent curses as he ran to the nearest bus station, holding his leather jacket over both of your heads to shield the two of you from the sudden and pouring rain. As the two of you were walking in the middle of the flower garden right before the weather took a sharp turn for the worse, both of you were soaked to the bone by the time you found shelter.

As you clutched at your chest, gasping for breath, you huffed grumpily at the boy beside you, who looked way too dashing for someone who was doused like a wet dog, “Weren't you supposed to check the weather?”

“Well, if we went to the arcade like I'd suggested instead of the park, we wouldn't be in this predicament, would we?” Minho retorted, running a hand through his damp locks. 

“It’s a Friday night. The arcade would’ve been packed to the brim and you still would’ve been all pissy.”

“It’s better than being soaked to the bone and freezing our asses off at some random bus station.”

The two of you maintained your angry tense glares for only a moment longer before you caved, rolling your eyes as a smile crept on your face, “It seems like nothing has changed, even on our last date.”

“We're destined enemies. The universe has decreed it long ago, sweetheart,” Minho chuckled. 

The most humorous thing about both of those statements were how utterly false they were, and how aware both of you were about that fact. Anything and everything that existed between the two of you had changed during the course of the month, and both of you knew it. Minho had changed from a necessary annoyance to an irreplaceable pillar in your life, a source of honesty and comfort that you've grown to relish. Even though the two of you still bickered like cats and dogs, there was something good-natured about it now.

“Well, our garden date is fucked and we can't exactly go to the arcade like this, so what do you suppose we do?” You asked with a grimace as you wrung the excess water out of your hair, “This is the last day before our project ends.” 

Minho sighed, shaking the droplets of water off his jacket as he bit his lip, turning his gaze to your side profile. You were happily oblivious to his stare, continuing to twist the water out of your hair as you stared out at the rainy street, humming softly to yourself. He could tell immediately that you were cold and doing your best to keep yourself from shivering. 

It was definitely a pet peeve of his that he’d grown more and more annoyed over as he spent the month by your side. You never liked to wear jackets or bring them along, despite the fact that you were literally cold-blooded and tended to match the temperature of whatever weather was going on around you. It got so bad at times that Minho had already developed a habit of bringing you an extra jacket or scarf so you at least didn’t catch a fucking cold while you were spending on dates with him. 

Unfortunately, the forecast had predicted clear skies and warm weather for the whole day, and Minho didn’t think about bringing that extra jacket around this time, so all you could do was perish in your cold, soaked clothes. 

“You could come over and hang out at my place.”

The words tumbled out of Minho's mouth before he could really consider the consequences, and all he could do after that was look as nonchalant as possible. 

As expected, you gawked at him as if he'd grown a second head, “You want me to hang out at your apartment?”

“Don't make me repeat myself,” he grumbled, feeling the tips of his ears grow hot, “We could dry up there and maybe watch some Netflix or something." 

You let out a scandalized gasp, dramatically covering your chest with your arms, and Minho's face burned as he gave you a hard shove, "Not like that, oh my god!" He sputtered in total embarrassment, fully beginning to process the implications of his words. 

As the poor man dissolved in his own misery, you cackled, relishing his suffering as you ran a hand through your wet locks, "I'm kidding, genius!" You said with a laugh, "Gosh, who knew you were actually such a prude on the inside." 

If you took Minho seriously at all, his glare would have sent you six feet under. Unfortunately for him, one month of fake dating taught you that the man was a lot more bark than bite. You were basically Minho-immune at this point.

“You know what?” He closed his eyes, grabbing at whatever supernatural patience he had not to just shut you up with his lips smashing against yours, “Offers’ off. Walk home yourself.”

“Aw, alright I’m sorry!” You laughed, ruffling his messed up hair as you walked out of the bus stop and into the pouring rain, “Come on, please? I promise I won’t make fun of you anymore.”

You promising not to make fun of him sounded about as genuine as Jisung saying that he’d stop procrastinating on his homework, but what was Minho going to do? Make you walk home by yourself in this type of weather? It wasn’t that he was giving you any special treatment; this was just what any good samaritan would do.

With a roll of his eyes, he stomped over to you and flung his leather jacket over your head, “Let’s go,” he muttered. Smiling playfully, you followed him home, using his jacket to shield you from the rain as you stared at his back with a hint of bittersweetness.

The jacket still smelled like him, you thought absently as you walked in his shadow. As much as you’d tried to deny it to yourself, Minho smelled good. He smelled like Febreeze and citrus. You were going to miss the warmth of his jacket very soon, when he’d no longer be obligated to take care of you or make sure that you won’t catch a cold.

“Did you die back there, sweetheart?” Minho called behind him, “You’ve gone all quiet.”

“If I died, how exactly was I supposed to answer you?” 

“Oh, my bad. I was really only asking out of courtesy,” he smirked, throwing his head back as his eyes sparkled with a mischief you’ve grown out of hating. Seeing the few feet of distance between the two of you, he extended his hand, chuckling, “Seriously, what are you doing all the way back there? Come on.”

You felt yourself grow quiet, taking a few large strides forward before you let go of the jacket and slipped your hand into his. Minho’s fingers laced with yours as he continued on his way, leading you down a couple streets before you made it to the familiar apartment complex.

Now, you’ve been to Minho’s place a couple times, so you didn’t feel too overwhelmed as the two of you rushed into the lobby area sopping wet and trying your best to dry off your shoes on the mat. However, it was always just a quick stop, like standing in the lobby area while he went up to grab something, or meeting with him downstairs before going on a date. You’d never actually been into his apartment before, and as the two of you stood in the elevator in a deafening silence, you couldn’t stop your heart from racing a little faster than normal.

“Alright, now I’m worried,” he said as the numbers on the elevator screen went up slowly, “You’re being abnormally quiet. What’s up?”

You blinked in momentary surprise, not expecting him to pry, since he wasn’t ever the type, “Oh. I’m just wondering what your place looks like,” you said, smiling.

Minho didn’t buy it for one second, but he only gave you a strange glance as the elevator doors opened, “I see. Well, it’s nothing special. It’s just like any other dumpy frumpy apartment.”

“I didn’t mean like whether it looks expensive or not,” you said with a soft laugh as the two of you walked down the hallway towards the door to the left, “I’m just wondering whether it would be clean or messy, if you like to keep it warm or cold. Those sorts of things.”

“Oh,” Minho rubbed the back of his neck, and for the first time, he felt a little nervous about twisting his key and opening the door. What if you had higher expectations about it than he could actually meet? Wait, did he pick up those boxers off the floor before he left that morning? He did, right?

“What are you waiting for?” You asked in amusement, watching as Minho seemed to have gone very still after he pushed his key into the keyhole. When he didn’t budge, you moved forward to turn it yourself, only for him to angle his body in front of the door.

“Uh, maybe this isn’t the best idea,” he said with a pleasant, saccharine smile.

You blinked, “Minho, we’re literally at your door,” you said just as a loud boom of thunder sounded in the distance, “And it’s thundering. Your room can’t be that horrid, right?”

“It might be a bit messy,” he argued.

“We’ve both spent game nights in Jisung’s hell hole. I think I can handle however messy your apartment is.”

That was a fair point. Minho couldn’t really find an argument against that attack. Lowering his head, he sighed, “Let me head in to tidy some things first.”

With a raised eyebrow, you crossed your arms, “No problem, but I seriously don’t care, if that’s what your worried about.”

Minho could only nod suddenly before he turned the key, unlocked the door and slipped in faster than a ghost before slamming the door shut. Just like he’d predicted, his boxers were lying nonchalantly on his bedroom floor, and he shoved them in his hamper before cleaning--more like hiding--the rest of his junk in record time.

You were beginning to think that Minho had just locked you out of his apartment when the door opened once more, and he walked out with a towel in hand, “Did you hide whatever dirty toy you needed to hide?” You asked with a smirk.

“Get your head out of the gutter,” he retorted, throwing the towel at you and leading you inside.

The apartment wasn’t far from your expectations. Clean, but not meticulously so, a little bit on the chilly side, and a sense of homeliness with the warm lights and lamps that he chose from the living area. You found yourself growing fonder and fonder of it by the minute.

“It’s cute,” you smiled, wrapping the towel around your neck. 

Minho tried to ignore the way his cheeks warmed at the simple, but genuine compliment that fell out of your lips, “Thanks. I laid out a change of clothes for you in the bathroom. You can also take a shower if you feel like you need to warm up.” 

“What a gentleman,” you said teasingly as you placed your handbag down on the floor as you headed to where Minho had gestured to the bathroom, “Do you have people over often?” It was an easy question, not even close to brushing the real question that sat in the back of your mind. 

Is what we have special? Do I mean something different to you the way you mean something different to me?

“Actually, besides Jisung, you’re probably the first,” Minho answered, grabbing a towel to dry off his own hair as he walked towards you, “I don’t really like strangers or acquaintances in my space.”

“Oh, I should be honored, then,” you said, trying to contain your surprise as turned to face him, studying the way his damp hair framed his face and the way his eyes seemed to burn with an intensity that you could never read.  You could never tell what that gaze wanted, what that gaze meant, but you knew what it did to you and your foolish little heart.

Minho’s head tilted ever so slightly as the silence hung in the air. Then, he smiled, brushing the tip of his finger under your chin, “Well, being my social experiment girlfriend has to have its perks.”

The trance shattered, and whatever moment of tension and unexplainable attraction you felt disappeared into the air as you marched towards the bathroom, “I’m glad I got to make use of it before my membership expires tomorrow,” you said, your voice tinged with sarcasm as you shut the door.

A laugh left Minho’s lips as he shook his head, walking into his bedroom and quickly getting into a change of clothes before flopping onto his couch. This experiment has proved to be one of the most difficult experiences in his life. All this time, he always knew what he wanted, and he always knew how to get it. If he wanted someone, he got them. If he wanted to pursue something, he found himself being able to achieve it with just a bit of hard work on his part. 

But with you, he didn’t know what he wanted, nor did he know how to obtain it. When he met you as Jisung’s other best friend, he never once imagined that the two of you would form such a strange yet irreplaceable relationship in such a short amount of time. He liked you, he liked you a lot. But as he found himself falling further and further, he realized that the reason this was so difficult was because he cared about you. His way of living with no strings attached wasn’t going to cut it anymore, especially since he was beginning to notice that many of his strings were tightly wrapped around your fingers. 

And despite this, the two of you were going to have to cut them all off when the morning came.

“Fuck you, Jisung. You probably knew this was going to happen, you little shit,” Minho sighed, lying down on the couch and closing his eyes. Whatever, he didn’t want to think about the goodbye. He’d deal with it when it came.

“Uh, Minmin?” 

“Hmm?” Minho answered you absently, his eyes still closed.

“You can shower if you’d like,” you offered, the couch dipping under your weight as you sat beside him.

“Nah, I’ll just shower tomorrow morning,” Minho said, opening his eyes and physically having to fight back a blush as he saw you, his hoodie practically engulfing you whole and his sweats going past your feet. Oh fuck, did he even think things through when he picked out a spare set of clothes for you? 

You caught his stunned gaze, your cheeks immediately reddening, “L-look, they’re just a little big on me!” You said defensively as you grabbed one of the pillows and shoved it in his face, “Can’t you stop staring?”

Minho laughed, fending off your relentless pillow attacks with his arms, “Sweetheart, I swear! You actually look really cute!” 

“Shut up!” You shrieked, swinging your arms relentlessly as Minho finally had enough letting you win. Lashing out with his hands, he grabbed both of your wrists, stopping their movement and forcing you to drop the pillow as he yanked you forward. With all your momentum going in one direction, your body had no choice but to follow, and when you opened your eyes, you were sprawled on top of him on the couch, his hands still locking your wrists in place.

“Um,” you looked around, further procession the rather awkward position the two of you had taken, “did you mean for this to happen?”

Minho didn’t, but he was nothing if not an opportunist, “You can think whatever you wanna think,” he shrugged, letting go of your wrists as he wrapped a casual arm around your waist, “What? Not comfortable?”

The more you thought about it, the more you realized that the position was actually quite comfortable. Minho was always built like a personal heater and whatever chill you felt from running around in the rain just seemed to melt away as he held you. 

Stop it, the little voice in your mind whispered as you tried not to focus on the fact that your face was inches from his. This date was for you to say your goodbyes, not fall farther into the black hole.

“Comfortable? Hardly,” you scoffed as best you could, pushing yourself up with your hands and curling up on the couch beside his stretched out figure, “You’re all muscle from dancing so much. It’s like sleeping on a rock.”

“Ah, these abs are hard as rock,” Minho nodded very seriously.

“I wasn’t talking about your abs.”

“Then what else can be hard?” He blinked for a moment before his smile turned unbelievably devilish, “My, my, (name)...I didn’t know you were so--”

You grabbed the pillow you’d previously discarded and shoved it into his chest, “Can we watch something?” You interrupted him pleasantly, pretending not to have even heard the beginning of his less than appropriate joke.

Minho huffed, throwing the stupid pillow to the floor as he scooted next to you, “Sure, want popcorn?” He asked, handing you the remote after turning on his TV, “Just find something on Netflix.”

“Anything you don’t like to watch?” You asked, browsing through the selections.

“Nothing horror related,” he answered as he pushed himself off the couch, heading to the kitchen.

His reply felt strange to you, and you frowned, turning around to look at him, “But don’t you love horror movies?” You asked, remembering very clearly that Minho and Jisung had first met because they both went to the same viewing of a new horror movie that you refused to go to. 

“Yeah, but you don’t, right?” Minho pointed out before shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly and disappearing into the kitchen area as you were left reeling at his almost blasé answer, struck by how much he’d grown to learn about you and how much he'd grown to take your feelings into account. 

Now that you thought about it, you realized how much Minho's personality had changed and affected the way you did things, not in a controlling way, but in a way that you found yourself thinking about him when making decisions. When you made your weekly batch of bread, you tended to lean towards milk bread because it was Minho’s favorite. When you went out for dinner together, you thought about what he enjoyed before picking a cuisine. When you browsed for cute accessories, your taste gravitated to cats because they reminded you of him.

Holy fuck, how deep in were you?

“You didn't pick anything yet,” Minho noticed as he poked his head out from the kitchen, waiting for the popcorn to finish. 

“O-oh right,” you fumbled with the remote in your hands as you scrolled through the selections. 

Minho hummed, his eyes narrowing in suspicion, “Hmm…? What were you thinking about, kitten?”

“Nothing, stop being nosy,” you answered with an annoyed edge as you found something that piqued your interest, “Hey, wanna watch Bridgerton? I heard some good things about it from my friends.” 

"I heard it's a bit of a shitshow," Minho commented as the microwave beeped and the smell of buttered popcorn filled the room. Grabbing the bowl and taking a few pieces for himself, he returned to the living room, jumping over the couch and plopping down beside you. 

You tried to ignore how casual it felt for him to just throw an arm around your shoulders to pull you close, focusing on the TV, “Wanna check it out to see which review is accurate?” 

“Sure, whatever you want, kitten.” 

As the two of you powered through episode after episode, it became clear that both reviews had some merit, as the series was a bit of a shitshow, but one that you wouldn't be able to stop watching. Minho and you found yourselves rather invested in the story and the characters, letting out a huge “finally” when the two leads confessed their genuine love for one another. 

“Another episode?” You asked after a short bathroom break, falling into his arms even more so than before and practically snuggling into his warm chest now. 

“Go for it, sweetheart. I have all night.”

“So do I,” you chuckled, and pressed the play button. 

However, things started to take a weird turn after you reached the middle mark of the series. Bouts of contained love had been released, and there were beginning to be many scenes that weren't quite appropriate for general audiences. You quickly realized that this was probably not the show you should've picked to watch through straight-faced with your lovely social experiment boyfriend. 

You held your tongue for most of them, just wanting and wishing for them to be over as soon as possible, but when positions started to turn towards an even more peculiar direction, you couldn't help but make one rather underhanded comment. 

“Ugh, forget the literal fanfic fake dating trope they had going on. This is probably the most unrealistic part of the whole show,” you said with mild disgust as you watched the female lead gripping on the rails of the staircase. 

“Oh?” Minho perked up at your comment almost too eagerly. Like you, he had also been suffering from the tragic case of watching a dirty scene with his totally-fake-but-also-somehow-real girlfriend, and felt a crash of relief when you spoke up about something, “And why is that, kitten?”

A noise of disbelief choked out of your throat as you gestured at the scene before your eyes, “I mean, look at them! Can you possibly expect me to believe that she feels comfortable in that position, much less enjoy it?”

Minho shrugged, “You’d be surprised how much you can ignore when you’re in the moment.”

“I don’t believe it,” you scoffed, grabbing a handful of popcorn, “At least, I’ve never had such an experience before.”

The conversation was dropped then and there, and the show continued without further criticism. But halfway through the next episode, you began to feel that you were being watched, and sure enough, Minho was gazing at you with an unreadable expression, deep in thought.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked, chuckling awkwardly, “Do I have something on my...Min?”

Your eyes widened comically as Minho suddenly shifted on the couch, leaning impossibly closer to you and gently cupping your jaw with his hand. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck fuck fuck. Had he lost his mind?! 

Minho seemed to answer your silent question as he stopped right before his lips could brush yours, and his eyes searched for any fear or hesitation in your expression, “Is it true?” He asked hoarsely, his words no louder than a faint whisper.

“What true?” You murmured back, looking up at him through your lashes.

The man gulped, trying to hold onto whatever semblance of control he had left in his body, “What you said earlier...about never having such an experience before.”

Oh, your cheeks reddened as bright as apples, “Why do you have to bring it up again, idiot?!” You felt your voice fail you as Minho tightened his hold on you.

“So it’s true?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, “Yes, it’s true! What does it have to do with you, asshole?”

Minho sucked in a breath, studying your face as his eyes shone with gentle adoration and tenderness that you didn’t even know he could possess, “Can I kiss you, (name)?”

Your name. It was your name. Not sweetheart. Not kitten. Not any other petname he could give anyone that he pleased. He uttered your name. He was asking for your permission. And like a sailor drawn in by the siren’s song, you had no hope of escaping now. 

“Yes.”

Closing the gap, your lips met as the two of you finally succumbed to the growing tension that festered with every meeting, every touch of your hands, every quip thrown both ways. Minho caressed your cheek as your hands slid to his shoulders, reveling in the kiss that was such a long time coming. 

When he finally pulled away to let both of you catch your breaths, his cheeks were flushed, his eyes blown wide as he stared at you underneath him. Swallowing, he brushed the hair away from your face, his heart warming with unrestrained affection as you leaned into his touch instead of pulling away, “Can I give you that experience you’ve been lacking?” He asked, a coil of anxiety rolling in his stomach as he studied your face for every miniscule reaction.

Any inkling that you didn’t want to, any inkling that you were only going to along to please him, he’d end it all. Minho knew very well that he was walking on a tightrope of maybe losing you forever. 

But to his surprise, you didn’t look fearful or uncomfortable, only a bit uncertain, “T-this is our last night though, a-as…” you trailed off, not wanting to make those thoughts a reality, just like Minho had been actively avoiding the topic as well.

“I know, I know,” he sighed, stroking your cheek absently with his thumb, “Maybe...we can think of this as a goodbye.”

You smiled, “It’s one hell of a goodbye,” you teased, making him chuckle. It was definitely one hell of a goodbye.

“Do you want it?” Minho whispered, hovering over you, “You say the word, and I’ll back off. Promise.”

Sucking in a breath, you decided not to live by your head anymore. With Lee Minho holding you close, kissing you silly, what was there to refuse?

“I want it,” you murmured, “I want you.”

This was the right choice, you told yourself as Minho carried you to his bedroom, treating you with a delicacy and gentleness that you’ve never experienced before. It was the culmination of your feelings for him. Maybe, when the morning comes, these feelings would wash away with your bouts of pleasure. Maybe, when the morning comes, you wouldn’t be as deeply in love with him as you were now.

Right?

epilogue.

When you woke in the morning, the rays of sunlight spilling in through Minho’s dark curtains, you were almost stunned by how very wrong you were. As you turned your head, finding yourself face to face with Minho, fast asleep with his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, you knew that you were not only still in love with Minho, but you were more in love with him than you were the night before. 

And boy, did that terrify you to your very core.

Fuck! This wasn’t supposed to happen. The experiment was over, right? There wasn’t a purpose that pulled you two together anymore. There wasn’t a purpose for Minho to feel any sort of attraction to you anymore. 

Too terrified to face the love of your life when he woke, you did the only thing you knew how to do.

And you ran. 

Detangling yourself from Minho as gently as possible, you slipped out of his bed, grabbing your clothes from where they’d been haphazardly discarded around the room. You changed in record time, anxious to avoid making sound or staying around until Minho woke. It was only 8:30 in the morning, though, and you knew that Minho naturally didn’t like to wake before 9:00, so you had a bit of time.

You wanted to leave as soon as you finished changing, but your guilty conscience wouldn’t let you disappear without some form of gratitude. For the night before or for the way he’d treated you the whole month, you didn’t know. But either way, you grabbed a couple of ingredients that he had in his refrigerator and fixed him a hearty breakfast before heading to the door. You only looked back once before officially steeling yourself to disappear from Lee Minho’s life, at least until you’d be able to resolve these naive and yet deep-seated feelings you had for him.

For the rest of the week, life went on as normal for you, as if your one unforgettable month with Minho had all but faded into the wind as you had hoped that night. You finished your final entry in the diary and handed it back to Jisung the day after the experiment ended. If he had questions as to why you’d disregarded the original plan to hand yours over along with Minho’s at the same time, he didn’t bring them up. 

“Did you at least have fun, (name)?” Jisung asked before you could turn around to leave. 

You hesitated, quickly realizing that the fact that you couldn’t answer the question immediately gave away your uncertainty. After a long moment of thought, you nodded.

“Yeah, I did.”

You really did, though. There was no point lying to yourself about that when you were already having such a hard time pretending that your very real feelings for Minho don’t exist. 

Speaking of Minho, you spent much of the week trying to cut him out of your life as much as possible, which was proven to be rather difficult since the two of you had such a close friend in common. You could tell that Jisung was getting a little sick of seesawing between his two best friends without knowing why the two of you were acting this way. Even back when the two of you were basically the worst of enemies, neither of you ever actively tried to avoid seeing the other.

But now, you were avoiding Minho like the plague. You avoided his school building entirely, and if you happened to see him walking down the street by some unlucky miracle, you’d bolt in a random direction and hide in a store until you were sure he was gone. 

It was a lot of effort, and you weren’t even sure if it was working, since your feelings for him seemed to grow even stronger the more you were away from him.

There was just worry that festered within your heart, this genuine concern you had over his wellbeing now that you weren’t able to check on him every day. Was he eating well? Was he skipping breakfast now that you stopped giving him your milk bread? Did he pass that exam he was worried about?

It seemed your feelings for Minho were going to need a little more than distance to disappear. 

After two weeks of moping and frustratingly obvious heart sickness on both sides, Han Jisung finally had enough with his idiotic best friends. 

You opened your door in surprise as Jisung stood at the entrance of your apartment, an unusually angry expression on his face, “U-uh, Sungie? You good?”

“Do I look good?” He scoffed, rolling his eyes, “How the fuck do you expect me to be good when I’ve been fucking tiptoeing between you and Minho for the past two weeks?!”

You flinched at the very mention of his name, “I’m sorry. I promise everything will go back to normal soon.”

“With the way you’re doing things, I don’t think that’s going to happen, (name),” Jisung rubbed his eyes tiredly, and you finally noticed the deep eyebags he had, indicating several all nighters, “I finished writing my thesis paper.”

“Oh, congrats.”

It was easier to muster up a smile at that statement, since you were genuinely proud of Jisung for such a daring project. 

“I also read both of your notebooks.”

Fuck. That was a necessary part of writing that paper. 

You nodded, trying to keep your cool, “Okay? Did they not have enough information?”

“Forget the stupid project for one fucking moment, please,” Jisung interrupted before sighing, “At first, I thought the awkwardness came from the fact that you still hate each other, but it turns out it’s just the opposite.”

“What are you talking about?”

Jisung threw you a long look, as if silently weighing several options in his head. You could practically see his thoughts running a mile a minute, and all you could do was stand there as he finally reached into his bag and pulled out a familiar notebook.

“This--” Your eyes widened as you gazed down at the name written in Sharpie, a name that decidedly wasn’t yours, “Jisung, you can’t--”

“Yes, I know that as the operator of this experiment, giving out information that I’d originally stated was confidential is absolutely against everything that science stands for,” he said wearily, “But as your friend and Minho’s friend, this is the right thing to do.”

“What am I supposed to do with it?”

“Read it, dummy. I could tell you what’s inside, but I don’t think you’d believe me unless you saw it yourself.”

Jisung grabbed your wrist and pressed the little notebook into the palm of your hand, “I think you’ll know what to do after,” he smiled gently, his eyes filled with earnest care as he gave you a quick hug and made his way down the hall, leaving you to stand at your door holding Minho’s grey project notebook. 

With nothing else to do, you entered your apartment again and plopped down on the couch, notebook in hand. Did you even want to see it, Minho’s unadulterated truth? A part of you wasn't, but curiosity always killed the cat, and you found yourself gingerly opening the first page. 

Nothing was far from what you expected at first, since it matched quite well to your own experiences. First blatant dislike, then grudging respect, and finally, a growing fondness. You found yourself smiling as you read about how much Minho actually adored the bentos you made, even though he never made his thoughts on it entirely clear to you. 

Then, you finally made it to the last page: Day 31. You found yourself stopping short, your heart beginning to race again as your eyes scanned the first few words. 

~

lee minho: day 31 + 2 days 

action(s): last date 

notes: yeah, i know this entry is late, but i just needed some time to collect myself. 

she left in the morning before i could wake up. i can’t say i was surprised, since i told her the night could be our goodbye, but i’d hoped in some part of me that she’d stay, that we’d just carry on with the rest of the month like the ending date didn’t exist. she made me breakfast, though, so at least i know she wasn’t disappointed or upset with me about how far things went. at least i hope.

fuck, jisung, i can’t stop thinking about her. it’s been two days already and nothing i do can make me forget her. the last night just made things infinitely worse. i played with fire and im getting burned for it. i can’t get the way she felt out of my head, the way she would also look into my eyes and see me for what i am inside, not just what i look like. i miss her milk bread, i miss seeing her outside the dance studio. 

jisung, i think i love her. no fuck it, i do love her, and there’s nothing i can do anymore. she clearly doesn’t want anything to do with me based on how she’d been avoiding me like the plague whenever i see her on the street. and now, i don't even know how much of what she felt, how much of what she did for me was real. did she put in so much effort because she wanted you to be happy? or was the way she hugged me, the way she spoke to me, was it all real?

it doesnt matter now. 

~

By the time you made it to the end of the page, your eyes were filled with tears and your vision blurred over. Minho...he loved you? Had you been so absorbed with wallowing in your own misery that you failed to realize that your actions were hurting him? 

Panic filled your very being, and as Jisung had predicted, you knew exactly what you had to do. You had to make amends, apologize for your actions, and at the very least, express your own feelings to him directly, even if it was too little too late. 

With the notebook clutched tightly in your hand, you grabbed your purse and rushed out the door, still putting on your boots as you hopped to the elevator. Which bus did you have to take to get to his apartment? First the #2 and then transfer over to #13...right.

You bolted out of the lobby, feeling the rush of cold air seep through your bones, but you hardly found it in yourself to care. You ran to the bus station, anxiously shuffling on either feet as you waited for the next #2 line bus to arrive. When the bus finally arrived, you were already standing at the edge of the sidewalk, too jittery to sit. The doors slid open, and before you could barge inside, your jaw went slack as a familiar figure stepped out of the bus, his own eyes widened as they caught yours. 

What was most interesting, however, was the familiar grey notebook that he clutched in his hand, one that was painfully identical to the one you were holding. 

The two of you stood in an awed silence as Minho got off the steps, and the bus drove away. Immediately, you felt a wave of concern as you looked him over from a distance. Did he lose weight? Was he getting enough sleep?

In the end, Minho was the one who spoke first, clearing his throat awkwardly, “Judging by the notebook in your hand, I’m assuming that Jisung fucked us both over?”

“Y-yeah, sort of,” you answered, surprised that your voice didn’t completely fail you in such an important moment. 

Minho seemed to wait for you to continue, but when you didn’t, he spoke again, “Um, I read it. Your diary entries.”

That wasn’t a surprise, of course, see that you read his, but you couldn’t stop the wave of flushed embarrassment from washing over you as you thought about all the embarrassing things  you wrote about him, “Oh.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, looking sheepish, “Do you really think I sound like an angel when I sing?”

Oh, if you could hide yourself six feet under, you would have. But you could nod shamefully, “Yeah.”

“Do you really like it when I cuddle with you and pull you onto my lap?” 

Was this your punishment for not being honest upfront? “Y-yes! Now can you please shut up--”

“Do you really love me?” 

The wind was knocked out of your lungs as you finally looked up to stare at Minho, whose face was unreadable as always. He held up the notebook and repeated his question when you couldn’t find it in yourself to muster up an answer, “You said in your final entry that you were in love with me, that you loved every part of me inside and out, and that our final night together just made everything so much more real. Is it true?”

Your eyes filled with pain as you choked out softly, “What will you do…if it is?”

Minho’s expression didn’t seem to change, but you didn’t miss the way his eyes seemed to return to their usual sparkle just a little bit, “If it is true, then I’d call you an idiot for ghosting me.”

“R-right--”

“And then I’d walk over to where you’re standing. I’d wrap my arms around your waist like the way you love, and I’d kiss you silly. I’d tell you that I’m totally and completely in love with you, as you probably already know from my diary entires, and I’d ask you to be my real girlfriend,” Minho spoke, his voice filled with meaning as his grip on your notebook tightened, “Now tell me, is it true?”

You couldn’t even remember how to breathe as you stared at him, the cold winter wind making his cheeks so delightfully rosy that all you wanted to do was to kiss them gently and warm them up with your mittens. And as he gazed at you, the sincerity pouring out of his posture, his words, and his eyes, there was no way you could continue lying to yourself. 

“It is true,” you said, your eyes filling with unshed tears as you gripped at his notebook, “I’m in love with you, Lee Minho, and it’s tearing me apart just like it’s tearing you apart. I want to love you for real, I want to date you for real, I want us to be real.”

Minho took three large steps forward before he was right in front of you and his lips crashed against yours in a breathtaking kiss. His arms wrapped around your waist like he’d promised, and yours cupped his cheek as he kissed you with unrestrained fervor. 

Wow, he really did kiss you silly.

“No more rules, no more of this social experiment bullshit,” he murmured against your lips as he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours, “Do you want to be my real girlfriend, (name)?”

What was there to refuse? 

.

the enemies to lovers project: [success]

[captainlevisteacup]

Oooh, an idea has struck. The brothers reacting to Dom Male!MC reuniting with his childhood bestfriend in the Devildom, only their bestfriend is now a high ranking/powerful incubus who has a fuck ton of influence & money. (Not nearly as powerful as any of the brothers or Diavolo, of course, but you get the point)

And while normally a simple childhood friend wouldn’t be enough to bother the brothers, DM!MC’s Femboy CH!Bestfriend is the optimum of gorgeous, with a lithe & toned body and an “innocent” charm to him.

Spoiler Alert, CH!Bestfriend has been in love with DM!MC since they were kids (though it was just puppy love back then) and is determined to never let him get away from him again, resulting in him being extra clingy and needy.

Another Spoiler Alert, DM!MC’s childhood bestfriend may or may not be a mix of a “Worship” & “Self Sacrifice” Yandere.. (Look up “The Dere Types Wiki” if your confused)

You have some very interesting ideas😂 im so sorry this took so long, I didn't want to post it until I was back up to my full working capacity after getting injured and after breaking up with someone😁

Anyways, without further ado, here ya go😘

The Brother's Reactions to M! MC'S Yandere Childhood Incubus! Friend

Warnings: Violence, Language, Blood, VERY SLIGHT sexual themes, some non-consentual touching in Levi's section, brief mention of drugging in Beel's

Lucifer

At first, didn't think twice of MC having a childhood friend

But when he heard the word incubus

He got the smile on his face

You know the one

Lucifer "innocently" is around whenever the incubus is around

Its starts off small

Little poisoned glances from the incubus here and there

But eventually it escalated and turned into him putting a possessive arm around MC's waist

Lucifer snapped

The second the Incubus was alone, Lucifer followed him down an alley

Slammed that fucker against the wall and held him there by the throat

The incubus started laughing, even when Lucifer tightened his grip

"You'll never get rid of me. I have connections to everyone, Fallen Angel. I've loved him since before you even knew he existed, and a prissy peacock like you isnt gonna stop me from making him mine, even if I have to drug and kidnap him"

Lucifer only smiled and released him

The incubus smirked, daintily dusting off his lithe figure

Thinking he won, he shouldered his way past Lucifer

Only to stop short in horror

Deep growls greeted him

Lucifer didn't even bother hiding the screams of the incubus as Cerberus ripped into him

After a while, he signaled Cerberus to stop

As the incubus lies on the ground whimpering, Lucifer calmly says:

"Now that I've shown you just what I'm willing to do to protect MC, I'll make you a deal. MC cares about you, as a FRIEND. But his heart belongs to me and me alone, and mine belongs to him. If you can understand and respect that, I'll allow you near him. But one wrong word, one wrong placement of a hand, and I won't hesitate to finish you off myself. And believe me," he says with a dark chuckle "I won't be as gentle as Cerberus."

Mammon

This man immediately is on high alert

Someone trying to take what's HIS?

The incubus makes him more greedy than ever

Decides not to leave MC's side for a second

Even when he's sleeping

When Mammon can't help the incu-bitch (his nickname for the childhood friend) being around, he acts sort of like a child, which makes him look like a dick in comparison to the incubus's calm and innocent facade

Mammon tries to tell MC there's something up, but he just chalks it up to Mammon being Mammon

One day, MC randomly receives news from the human world that his mother contracted something contagious and was placed in ICU

The incu-bitch was, of course, right there when MC started tearing up, letting him cry into his shoulder

Mammon sees this and starts to protest

This leads MC to snap and tell Mammon he's being a child

Mammon leaves them be and thinks hard

Comes to the conclusion that maybe MC is right, and he begrudgingly decides to apologize to the incubus

As he approaches him, Mammon catches a glimpse of the Incubus's *expensive* phone

Unable to resist, he throws a coin against the wall in the opposite direction.

When he turns to look at the noise, Mammon snatches the phone and yeets off to his room

When he gets there, he opens the phone- no lock- and is startled by what he sees

A fake texting app, along with the messages telling MC his mother was sick

Mammon was about to run to find MC, when he heard a slight chuckle

Looking up, he saw the incubus...holding a knife

"You just couldn't stay away, could you? You've been a pain in the ass ever since I got here. But no matter, once MC sees how *cruel* you are to his defenseless childhood friend, he'll want nothing to do with you. And he'll be mine to fuck and own as I please."

Mammon gritted his teeth and ground out "Making MC think his mother was gravely ill just to get close to him when he's vulnerable? You're disgusting. I actually care about MC, and I respect them more than you ever will."

The incubus snorted, and raised the knife.

"Oi! What do ya think you're doing with that?" Mammon yelled

He raised the knife....and slashed it across his own arm

He then threw the knife towards Mammon, threw himself to the ground, and yelled out in pain

Suddenly, MC burst into the room

Mammon sputtered out a panicked explanation, but MC cut him off with a stare

He kneeled down next to his friend, who reached up with a bloody hand to cup MC'S face

MC put his hand over the incubus's....and sharply bent it backwards

He leaned down and whispered into his ear: "I heard everything, you little shit. Now, get the FUCK out of my house and away from my boyfriend, and don't even THINK of defiling my life with your presence ever again"

After he left, Mammon cautiously said "boyfriend, huh..?"

"Shut up mammon"

Levi

Oh, this won't do

Immediately feels threatened and triggered

He is the avatar of Envy, after all

His response?

Prove to MC nobody can know him as well as he can

He does this every single time the incubus is near

"MC, I got you your favorite drink!"

"MC, I ordered you some food. Don't worry, I already know what you like"

Flinches whenever the incu-bitch touches MC. It literally makes him cringe

His suspicions are confirmed when the incubus shoots Levi a malicious glance next time he touches MC

Levi snaps

Challenges the incubus to a video game duel

He surprisingly accepts

He cheats like hell and beats Levi

Levi goes into his demon form and rages

But MC thinks he's just being a sore loser

He tells Levi to back off and to go cool down

Once Levi storms off, the incu-bitch thanks MC for standing up for him

Then, he promptly tries to make a move on MC

He reaches out a hand to unbutton MC'S shirt

MC slaps his hand away, but not before noticing writing on the Incubus's hand

Before he can pull away, MC snatches his hand and sees cheat codes written on them

Gets super upset and tries to get up to apologize to Levi

The incubus pulls him back down by his wrist and pins them to the couch

"MC, don't you realize? You're all I want, all I need. I WORSHIP you, MC. And you're going to be mine. Nobody else can have you. And you're going to love me, whether you realize it right now or not. You'll learn with time to need me just as desperately as I need you"

Starts to take off MC'S clothes in spite of their fighting and protests, the incubus shushing him

"Shhhh, I know you don't see it, but this will make you see."

Levi slams open the door, tail lashing and face white with rage

"Get your normie hands the fuck off of my human. Now."

The incubus nopes the fuck out. He may be a high ranking incubus, but he still isn't as strong as one of the seven demon brothers.

Levi holds MC tightly as they fumble over an apology

"Shhh MC, its okay. I'm here now. Let's watch some anime and calm down together, yea?"

Satan

Do I even have to explain this one?

Is hostile as soon as MC even MENTIONS a childhood male friend, let alone an INCUBUS

Honestly, the Incubus is a bit scared of Satan

But, he decides he wants MC more than he fears Satan

So, he swallows his fear and patronizes Satan in tiny, unremarkable ways

Ways that would only be noticed by Satan

A stray hand here and there that lingers a LITTLE too long

Wiping a crumb from MC'S lips during a meal

Tucking a stray hair behind MC'S ear

Every last one of these actions makes his blood boil

It gets so bad that Satan is just in a perpetual state of rage, never leaving his demon form

Satan starts passive aggressively insulting the incubus's intelligence

"Oh, you mean you don't know how disestablishmentarianism impacted the overall congruence of Midwest society? Thats odd, its fairly simple. Practically common sense."

Is shocked when MC got livid at him, because he was being condescending for seemingly no reason

Starts to get angry at MC

"Can't you see? He's trying to turn you against me. Just LISTEN, DAMNIT!" He says as he grabs MC'S shoulders

The incubus barges in and shoves Satan away from MC

"Are you ok, MC? Did he hurt you?"

The amount of white hot rage in the room was tangible

He can't do it anymore

Slams the incubus against the wall

Knocks him to the ground

But when he falls down

A bunch of photos fall out of his jacket

Not normal photos

Horrifying ones

One of MC while he showers

One of MC sleeping

One of MC changing

Even one of MC and Satan having a steamy moment

MC goes still...and then SLAPS the shit out of the incubus.

He wordlessly turns to Satan, eyes pleading

"It would be my pleasure, MC" *evil grin*

Cue Satan dragging the incubus off by his hair

Asmo

P A S S I V E A G R E S S I V E

He sees this lovely incubus with NEARLY perfect hair, a lithe and toned body, and a seemingly innocent attitude, and he just wants him gone

He's been with plenty of Incubi, so he knows what they're like

Because of this, he doesn't want this one anywhere NEAR his darling MC

Comes up with a plan to use all his fashion design connections to outdress the incubus

He knows they're vain by nature, so he comes to the conclusion that this is the best course of action

But there's a problem

"Is that a statement piece from Priya Lacroix? She hasn't even released her collection yet"

Asmo.exe is not responding

He knows that HE is the only one Priya would ever give an early release to

So why does THE INCUBUS have her statement piece?

And WHERE is his phone?

Complains to MC, but MC doesn't take him seriously because he's too busy catching up with his friend

Asmo gets jealous and storms off to do a stress relieving skin routine

As MC and the incubus hang out, the incubus's phone goes off

Only...the ringtone is sinful indulgence

Mammon storms into the room

"AHA! I FOUND YA ASMO, YOU ANNOYING LITTLE- huh?"

"I/N? Why do you have Asmo's phone?"

"MC, you have to understand, I just want you to realize I'm the only right one for you. You NEED to realize you can't be with anyone else. Because you're mine, MC. You always have been."

Screeching could be heard in the distance, then footsteps quickly getting closer and closer

"THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY" Asmo yells as he slams open the door

"As if MC would choose a crusty, obsessive, STEALING, lying, probably STD having Incubus like you over me! Now give me my phone back and get out of here. And while you're at it, take off that Priya piece. There's a reason I'm the only one allowed early access."

Beel

Honestly doesn't think that much of it at first

He thinks its nice MC reunited with one of his childhood friends, and an Incubus at that

But when he meets the friend, something just feels off

He gets a weird sensation, and its not hunger

Its like his senses are on red alert

The incubus was nice enough to Beel, seemingly charming and genuine

But Beel couldn't help but feel rubbed the wrong way, with a sensation similar to seaweed against legs in the ocean

He doesn't want to mention this to MC, because he's convinced he's just overreacting

He feels a little sad that MC is too busy for him, but he does his best to give them time together

One night, he had made some food in the kitchen and decided to bring MC and I/N some

When he neared the door, he almost dropped the plate

He heard a loud thud, and MC saying "Hey, I said no, okay?"

He gently opened the door and looked at MC, who immediately forced a smile to his face

"Hey MC, I brought you guys some food. Is everything ok?"

"Thanks Beel, that's sweet of you. Everything's fine, I promise"

Beel relaxed a bit, although he still knew something was off.

The incubus excused himself to use the restroom, encouraging MC to eat without him

Beel and MC sat down, and Beel scarfed down his portion

Chuckling, MC offered his plate to Beel, who gladly accepted

The incubus opened the door shortly after with an expectant look on his face, as well as rope and a gag in his hands

Upon laying eyes on MC, a shocked expression came onto his face as his eyes darted between MC and the empty plate

"How are you still conscious?" He blurted

Confusion flashed across MC'S face. "What do you mean, I/N?"

"You drugged it, didn't you?" Beel spoke up.

"I thought it tasted odd," Beel continued "but I never would have guessed you would actually drug MC. I'm guessing you couldn't handle that MC rejected your advances, so you drugged the food while MC was distracted talking to me. Am I right?"

The incubus chuckled. "Guess I was wrong about you. You are more of a threat than you seem. Heh, I guess you're not just a talking stomach after all."

A loud smack could be heard shortly thereafter.

But the devastating blow didn't come from Beel

It came from an enraged MC

"Trying to drug me I could keep my cool over. If thats all you did I would have just told you to stay the hell away from me. But the SECOND you spoke to Beel like that, you signed your own death warrant."

Before he could react, MC summoned the brothers one by one, Beel explaining the situation.

"Well, MC, perfect timing as always. I was just beginning to get bored" Satan drawled

*screams*

Belphie

It takes a yandere to know one

Belphie doesn't want to alarm MC though, so he decides to outmaneuver the incubus without him noticing

It starts small, with I/N reaching out to put an arm over MC'S shoulder, and Belphie's arm already being there

Eventually, they start glaring daggers at each other the second MC looks away

After a while, Belphie decides to up the ante

Religiously falls asleep on MC when I/N is trying to spend time with him

Goads the incubus so much that he corners Belphie when he snaps and can't take any more

"Listen, I know exactly what you're doing. But if you think that YOU can take him away from me, you're sorely mistaken. MC is mine whether he likes it or not. And if it turns out to be the latter, well, let's just say he won't have much of a choice in the matter, nor will you have any control over it. Got that?"

Belphie does the one thing he knows will get the outcome he had painstakingly built up to the past couple weeks: he laughs

"Ah, you have a good sense of humor, know that? Funny stuff. All kidding aside, MC already belongs to me. So your child's play isn't gonna cut it. Got THAT?"

With a choked cry of fury, the incubus pulls out a knife and stabs Belphie

Belphie, having planned this, falls to the floor just as the door opens to reveal a shocked MC.

"BELPHIE! Shit, please be okay! What the FUCK is wrong with you, I/N?"

The stunned Incubus could only stammer out a couple words

"I- he...was gonna...tried to take what was mine. Tried to take you..."

MC laughed bitterly and shoved him to the floor.

"I don't know what sick world you're living in, but I belong to Belphie. I love him. And I hate YOU. Now I'll leave you be so you can deal with THAT. Ta ta." He says as he scoops up Belphie and heads out the door

"Deal with what?" I/N nervously asks after him, backing up warily

The incubus stops when his back hits something hard.

Gulping, he looks up...

"Hello, I/N, I'm Beel."

"Nice to...meet you? I imagine you're one of the brothers?" He replies shakily

Beel smiles. The light doesn't reach his eyes.

"Yes, I'm one of the brothers. You see, I'm Belphie's twin."

Across the house, Belphie smiles at the faint screams, MC curled up next to him after patching him up.

He succeeded in protecting what was his. He deserves a good nap. Holding MC tighter, he goes back to sleep.

[ushiwakatrash]

Payback is a bad bitch

Pairing: Ushijima x f!reader, Tendou x f!reader

Warnings: Making out, Cheating, cursing, slight angst

Word count: 1.7k

So I came across this idea when I was scrolling through my fyp on Tiktok and I wanted to write about it so bad. The idea belongs to rand0m.p0vz_anime on Tiktok! I hope you all enjoy reading ♥

School was going pretty normally and (Y/n) was striding down the halls of the glorious Shiratorizawa to go pick up her best friend from his class. 

She spotted the crazy red head and called for him. Tendou immediately grabbed his things and said his farewells to his classmates. Since their first year, they had always been together but this year’s class ranking separated them.

Tendou couldn’t keep up his balance of sports and school which resulted to his grades dropping just a wee bit. (Y/n), despite being the strategist of the girl’s volleyball team had no hard time in excelling in both the academic and athletic field. 

Her dedication to the sport and her talent managed to get her a boyfriend, who by the way, was the captain of her best friend’s team. And because even the demon coach Washijo himself had acknowledged her smarts, she had often paid trips to the men’s gym-- where Ushijima had laid eyes on her.

Wakatoshi and (Y/n) got together during their second year. The stoic and intimidating captain had a blush on his face when he asked the girl out. The proposal had a bouquet of flowers and small pricey chocolate to add to the romance. 

People who saw the cooed at how a girl could melt the captain’s coldness and things went uphill from there. Tendou was of course happy for both of his best friends but he couldn’t help but feel a small tingle in his chest every time he’s reminded of it all.

Speaking of Ushijima, they were on the way to his class when (Y/n)’s phone vibrated. The captain just sent a message saying that he had a meeting with the captain of the girl’s volleyball club and he couldn’t eat with them. 

(Y/n) did not like the sound of a meeting with that smug faced bitch but what could she do, right? The duo went to the cafeteria to grab food and sat at their usual table. The seats around them slowly got occupied by other members of the men’s vball team and only the captain was missing.

You had gotten close to the team having spent time with the others during practice as well. At first the members were just curious what kind of genius you are to add to their curiosity, what kind of girl could easily catch the captain’s heart?

Their curiosity then bloomed into an unexpected friendship where you all became one heck of a family. “Oh right (Y/n), where’s the captain?” (Y/n) frowned a little before answering. “He said he had a meeting with the girl’s volleyball team’s captain, Semi-Semi.”

The setter’s face scrunched as he sent an accusing glare towards a smirking Tendou. “Stop teaching her shit you jackass!” “But Semi-Semi is fun to tease!” The others laughed but a few noticed your stiff mood.

“You alright, (Y/n)? Looks like something’s ticking you off” “No I’m good. Thanks for asking, Yamagata-san” A small smile was sent to the libero’s way and he shrugged it off and kept on with his meal.

Of course being the bestest best friend he is, Tendou already knew what was wrong and it only took a glance from him to tell her that he knew. (Y/n) just shook her head slightly to acknowledge that what he thought was right.

(Y/n) stood up from her seat and said her goodbyes to the team as break period was almost over. Tendou followed and walked her to her class. “You know Satori, being a guess monster must be quite the reputation, huh? You can even read me” you giggle at your statement and he follows suit. “I think I’ve known you for long enough to figure out how your mind works”

“Yeah yeah. See you later at practice Satori. I’ll come pick you up again.” “See ya (Y/n)-chan! I’ll be waiting!” with your last waves, you both went to your respective classes.

--

The last bell finally rung and it was about time for everyone to release the sighs they’ve been keeping in the past hours. You took your time in stretching before getting up and packing your stuff.

“Any longer and weeds might start growing from where I stand, (Y/n)-chan!” Oh you knew that voice all too well. “Satori, I thought I told you I’ll come pick you up instead?” Tendou entered your classroom, took your bag and swung it over his shoulder. “Let’s go shorty, Coach Washijo might make me run laps again if we’re late”

“Oh, I forgot how strict the old man was with you, he’s so nice and gentle with me” You stuck out a tongue at him and he made faces in return. “Have you talked to Toshi today? He wasn’t answering my texts.” That’s when Tendou began to think. “Now that you mention it, I haven’t heard from him either.”

As they made their way to the men’s gym, a familiar back could be seen from where they were standing. Even if she only saw a glimpse, (Y/n) knew well that it was her lover’s back. What she didn’t expect was another pair of feet just a few inches away from Ushijima’s.

With trembling hands (Y/n) quietly went near with Tendou trailing not far behind. With the right view of the angle, it was clear as a day that the captains of the girl and boy’s volleyball team were locking lips.

Tendou could feel the rage seeping from his best friend and for once, he was scared of her. The guess monster couldn’t tell what his captain was thinking and why would he waste the girl he’s always wanted? He was all for supporting the captain whenever he could but things may start to change today.

(Y/n) calmed herself and took deep breaths. Making a scene would do nothing but harm her reputation. So instead of throwing a fit, she let out a loud chuckle. “Oh hey, ‘sup?”

The two captains were caught by surprised but Ushijima was quick to recover. Before (Y/n) or Tendou could say anything, Ushijima spoke first. “It was just a kiss, (Y/n), no need to be dramatic.”

If Tendou could beat the shit out of the olive haired man in front of him, he would but it wasn’t his call to make. A nonchalant expression painted (Y/n)’s face before she swiftly placed her arms around Satori’s neck to pull him down for a kiss.

“(Y/n), what the FUCK do you think you’re doing?!” The captain’s voice had a mix of jealousy, anger and nervousness in his tone. Tendou had wide eyes but quickly melted into the kiss he has been dreaming for so long, even if it was in a situation like this.

To fuel the fire, (Y/n) reached to tug on the red head’s roots and deepened the kiss by sliding her tongue to explore Tendou’s mouth. Small grunts were made by both parties and by the time their lips parted, a small string of saliva could be seen.

Ushijima did not take his eyes off his girl. She used to do that with him, she would give the best kisses, be it soft or heated ones just like what he witnessed in front of him. Everything he had slipped out of his grasp because of his own stupidness.

“Calm down Ushijima, it was just a kiss, no need to be dramatic.” His words backfired on him and now his mind was a complete mess. “Damn Wakatoshi-kun, I didn’t know your girl could kiss that good. If I knew, then I would have snagged her a long time ago” Tendou didn’t mean what he said, or maybe that’s what he wanted himself to believe.

“I gotta admit Satori, you’re kinda tasty, I couldn’t resist myself. I mean after all, it’s just a kiss. Nothing to get worked up about” She walked towards Ushijima with her head held high. She tilted her head and inched it towards his as if she was going to indulge him with a kiss.

A few inches before their lips could meet, she let out a small sarcastic smile “Oh sorry I almost forgot how dirty your lips became!” (Y/n) cocked her head to the side to take a good look at the captain of the girl’s volleyball team who was quiet all through out the encounter. “Oh and you, enjoy my sloppy seconds! Enjoy him all you want ‘cause he’s all yours now!” She smiled sweetly before turning around.

Wakatoshi couldn’t bear but grab her hand to stop her from leaving. She just gave a confused look “Huh, are you dense or are you just fucking dumb? We’re over fuckface. Oh sorry, I meant Ushijima”.

The captain cringed at the word and for once hated his family name. “It’s Wakatoshi. Please wait, let me explain!” His hand gripped hers even tighter and for Tendou, it was the last straw. 

“Hey cap, hands off. She’s not your girl anymore” “Wow, you really want me to spell it out for you, huh Ushijima-san? We’re done. I’m breaking up with you. I’m not your girlfriend anymore. There, what else should I say? God, you’re so fucking dumb!”

Tendou slung an arm around your shoulder and you gave a last glance to your now ex, back still facing him. “I quit being the strategist for both teams. Thet’s final. We gotta go. I hope I don’t see your faces around!” (Y/n) fully turned around and held up a hand to sign a goodbye.

“Thanks Satori, sorry about kissing you without asking you first. It was nice though” Tendou smiled at this, his friend was far stronger than he had ever imagined. 

It was not a good time but he still had to shoot his shot. “S-say (Y/n), wanna hang in my place. We can maybe uh... continue where we left off a while ago, or somethin” It was rare to see Tendou flustered and the look on his face right now was priceless.

A genuine hearty chuckle sang from (Y/n)’s mouth. “You sure you can handle me, big boy?” She teasingly traced his jaw with her finger. They linked pinkies and headed towards the Tendou household.

A bitter taste was left in Ushijima’s mouth. It was real, he really lost everything. His team would also be greatly affected by it. The worst part of it all, your pained, hurt face was sure to haunt him. He was the biggest idiot indeed. 

After losing their best strategist, they lost to Karasuno. On a brighter note, Tendou won something far better than anyone ever could. 

He found his paradise.

--

𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥

[aggressive-positivity-network]

How do you think the mercs would react to engineer getting really tired and doing something absolutely idiotic? Like Engie don't lick the soap it won't taste good sweetie (totally not inspired by the fact ive done this same thing while exhausted)

Also your hcs are great!! They all seem super thought out and they're a thrill to read! Your writing is... Ok no word seems sufficient to describe it! It just too good!

Askers like you make my day! Thank you so much! Sorry if this is a little short, but I’m still working on the relationship ones, which take forever to write.

Scout:

“Hey, uh, Engie...buddy...you good?”

“Listen, I’m the only merc around here that does stupid stuff like that...you’re one of the smart guys, remember?”

Pretends to yawn so that Engie will feel more tired and go to bed faster.

When that doesn’t work - Engie doesn’t pay much attention to his surroundings when he’s working - he asks Sniper for help.

Sniper:

“Aw, bloody ‘ell, ‘as he gone into one of his fits again?”

‘Fits’ meaning bouts of creative invention that can last anywhere from several hours to a couple weeks.

Sniper waves a hand in front of Engie’s face, but to no avail.

“Nah, mate, he’s outta this world. All off in his own universe. There’s nothin’ that can bring him out now.”

Suddenly Medic walks by, and the pair practically pull him in to help.

Medic:

“Hm...zhere’s only vun thing that can avaken zhis building beauty!”

Medic wraps his arms around Engineer’s neck. No response.

Head on the shoulder. Nothing.

Chin resting on top of head. Nope.

Tugging on his collar. Still nada.

Finally, Medic uses his secret weapon: the cheek peck.

Engie still doesn’t look up - in fact, Medic has to pull his arm away from almost putting his hand on a sparking wire, something that an alert Engie would never do.

“Ach! Engie! Dummkopf! Vhat are you doing?!”

Suddenly, Spy peeks his head in as he walks by, but Medic grabs him by the tie.

“I need zhis vorktable for my experiment, and ve have all tried our luck. Any bright ideas?”

Spy:

“Why must I always find myself in these situations? Surrounded by idiots, waiting for my assistance.”

A murmur of complaints all around, but no one contradicts him. They still need a pair of fresh eyes.

Spy snaps in front of Engie’s face.

“Laborer? Do you mind coming down to earth so the good doctor can commit his nightly atrocities?”

No answer. Not even a look.

Spy thumps Engineer’s hat several times. Then knocks. Then takes it off completely. Still no reaction.

Spy has been getting increasingly more frustrated, as he has been waiting to unwind all week, and this is keeping him from a glass of scotch and a good magazine.

“Did your Texan weed of a mother never teach you manners? Or did she not know any herself? She most likely had yet to learn her alphabet, much less any sort of etiquette.”

Scout cringed, Sniper pulled his hat over his eyes, and even Medic put a hand on his bonesaw. You never talked about Engineer’s mom. Scout almost got a wrench through his forehead when he walked into Engie’s workshop in the middle of a Yo Mama joke.

This happened to be an exception, because Engie still stared blankly at his project. This infuriated Spy, whose sharp tongue usually had a much bigger impact.

“LOOK AT ME WHEN I’M TALKING TO YOU, YOU SLACKJAWED SCREW MONKEY!”

Spy gave Engie a stinging, backhanded slap.

Engie scarcely stumbled.

Spy roared in rage and walked out, using his cloaking device so he wouldn’t have to bear a walk of shame. He was also holding his raw hand, which was hurt from the slap.

Demo walked in right after, rubbing his eyes and looking really hung over.

Demo:

“Mmph...whasall this, then? Aye...onea those, eh?”

Demo, being the night owl that he is, had seen Engie in his zone before - in fact, he was usually the first to snap Engie out of it.

“Comere, I’ll show ya how it’s done.”

Demo took the empty beer bottle he was holding and cracked Engie over the head with it. It shattered on impact.

“Don’tcha worry, lads, that hard hat ‘a his is made for more than a strong drink.”

Demo laughed at his own joke, then slowly got serious as he realized Engie still wasn’t reacting.

“Lad? Are ya...did anybody check for a pulse?”

Medic walked over and put two fingers on his neck. After a few minutes, his eyes went wide.

“No bloody pulse?! How the hell-!”

Pyro suddenly walked in, holding a bag of gummy bears.

Pyro:

He mumbles excitedly, then goes over to Engie.

She takes a red gummy bear, which are Engineer’s favorite, and holds it out to him.

No response.

Pyro laughs good-naturedly, as if he was joking about how silly Engineer was being. He put the gummy bear in Engineer’s mouth.

It fell out, but Pyro giggled and put it back in again.

It tumbled out once more, and Pyro cocked their head.

This whole process went on a few more times before Pyro decided to tap Engie on the shoulder.

When that didn’t work, he walked over in front of the table to look at Engie’s face, and hopefully get his attention.

Pyro took one look, started, then backed away slowly. After they had gotten a good distance, he ran to Medic and hid behind him, starting to cry.

Sniper translated: “He doesn’t look good...he doesn’t look like Engie...he didn’t even look...did I do something wrong?”

There was a rattling from above, and Soldier popped his head out of the vent and looked around.

Soldier:

“Morning, maggots!”

“It’s ten o’clock, mate...”

“You shut your godamn mouth before I write you up for insubordination!”

Soldier leapt down, took one look at Engie, and grunted.

“Gone A.W.O.L, huh?”

Everyone nodded, albeit unsure.

“I’ll show you landlubbers what we did in the army...”

He very slowly crept up to Engineer, grinning. Everybody took a step back, just in case.

Finally, Soldier pounced, taking Engineer’s hat and replacing it with his own, whooping and laughing as he went back up the vent.

Everyone just stared at each other, and while they were all recovering, Heavy walked in, still in his nightgown.

Heavy:

“Team is all here...what is wrong?”

Everyone started talking at once, but Heavy just held up a hand.

“One at time. Doktor. What is wrong?”

“Engineer doesn’t have a pulse, he hasn’t reacted to stimuli, his facial expression doesn’t change...he is a dead man valking!”

Heavy just chuckled. “Engie just sleepy. Here. Heavy will take him to bed.”

Heavy picked Engineer up by the underarms, lifting him over his shoulder.

Before he knew it, Engineer was falling apart. Arms, legs, body. It all crumbled to the floor in a mix of wires and cogs.

Pure. Chaos.

Everyone was either screaming, crying, looking like they were about to vomit, or were trying to salvage the pieces.

Suddenly, they heard a yawn behind them.

“Well, howdy, y’all!”

Engineer:

After everyone had gotten over the shock and had made a huge hug pile, Engineer explained everything.

The Engie at the desk was a robot with a realistic skin suit on. In the dark and dusty workshop, no one had noticed the difference.

He was actually doing an experiment - something that resembled a “straight face” experiment they had done with children. He wanted to see how people reacted when there...wasn’t any reaction. His hypotheses were mostly correct - except for Soldier, put he was a random variable anyway.

Scout was mildly put off, Sniper and Medic came up with a logical solution, Spy was furious because of his job’s emphasis on reaction, Demo joked around until it wasn’t funny anymore and then just froze, Pyro was very upset, and Heavy tried to physically change the situation.

“It was all real interestin’...but it had to be a blind study. Sorry I had to worry y’all. It’ll never happen again.”

He looked down at his broken robot.

“Especially not with my Engiebot in pieces.”

Engineer told everybody goodnight, apologized one more time, said he’d make it up to them, and then went to his room.

Needless to say, everyone followed Engie to bed that night.

And he had a certain Frenchman to apologize to over a cold-shouldered breakfast.

***************

I’m a writer...can’t you tell? No, but seriously, by the time I realized it was spinning out of control, I had written too much to delete. I know it wasn’t exactly a normal response, but I just couldn’t resist! I just felt a really good story in this one!

Anyway, I’m sorry this took so long! I have an ask blog and a lot of requests coming my way, so I may be a little slower on the upkeep. But a lot of the requests are pretty short, so I should be able to knock them out.

@catbunblue302

[angxlyxn]

pet - dabi x f. reader

summary: Dabi is intent on showing everyone just who you belong to.

warnings: NONCON, light smut, obsessive behavior, burning/branding, captivity, talk about body weight/appearance, emotional and physical abuse, suicidal/dark thoughts

a/n: hello lovelies!  this is actually my first requested piece on this account, and was sent in by the lovely @hotwings0203 <33.  i’m sorry that it’s not some of my best work, because i wasn’t entirely sure how to approach writing for someone like Dabi, but i tried my best!  thank you so much for requesting this love, it was so fun to write and i hope you enjoy it anyways!

wc: ~2.8k

“Hey, dollface.”

You jolted up at the sound of the harsh voice, the gruffness of it scratching against your ears and causing you to cringe a bit.  

“Look at me, won’t you mousey?”  He called again.  You hesitantly shifted in your spot, turning to face Dabi with a blank expression on your face.  You made an effort to show as little emotion as possible, flattening out your features and trying not to give him an opportunity to take advantage of your natural timidity.  

“Come ‘ere,” he said simply, a bit of bile catching in your throat as he jerked his fingers towards himself, the motion reminiscent of an owner calling an unruly pet to his side.  You carefully walked up to him, each step sending a series of prickles through your toes, the soft skin on your feet feeling as though it was being punctured by a bunch of needles.  

He held a palm up just as you reached him, signaling you to stop and wait for his next command.  Like a pet.  He smirked a bit at your obedience, dropping his hand lazily onto his lap and leaning back into his chair, legs widening and posture relaxing as his cerulean eyes drank in your stilled body.  

“Hm..You’re getting too thin, angelface.”  His calloused hand shot out, grazing your stomach and pressing into your hip bone.  “You’re all skin and bone,” he said with a little too much glee.  

You couldn’t deny his remarks.  You had been here for so, so long, and taking care of you wasn’t exactly Dabi’s first priority.  The sickly way that your shoulder bones were pushing through your skin and the torn babydoll covering your body attested to that.  The nightgown that so sparsely covered you wasn’t even yours, in fact, but one that Dabi had mysteriously obtained from a house that he definitely did not burn down.  

“Come,” he said simply, resting a hand down on his lap.  It was not a suggestion, but a command.  You shamefully lowered your eyes, obediently following his directions and sitting upon his knees in a less than graceful fashion.  Your back was fully upright, form tense and rigid in the uncomfortable position.  Dabi, however, was not a fan of your reluctance, and suddenly wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you backwards into his chest and grazing the top of your head with his scarred chin.  You fell into him, limp and powerless against his vice-like grip on your torso, feeling much like a ragdoll as you rested your body against his.  

A laugh bubbled out of Dabi’s lips as he held you.  “Really, look at your ribs!”  He said, snatching up the hem of the gown and pulling it up to your chest.  You flinched at the exposure, still not fully accustomed to the fact that he could do that to you, that he could do anything to you.  His hand moved down to your lower half, pressing into your hip bone uncomfortably and toying with it in a disgusting manner.  Still his fingers fell lower, gripping your inner thigh and grazing over your clothed heat, an involuntary shiver erupting across your legs as he did so.  

“Little whore,” he chuckled lightly.  He finally released your dress, letting it settle back over your legs and he pulled his other hand away from where it was laying tantalizingly upon your creamy thigh.  You let out a breath that you were holding in as he did so, glad to be free from his teasing touches.  His fingers settled in your hair, petting it lightly, although his gentle massaging provided you with little comfort.  Instead, they just felt patronizing.  

Your body jolted as he fastened his fingers on your scalp, pulling harshly on your locks and flinging your chin backwards as he tugged.  A gasp left your lips, followed by a light whimper as you moved to try and resist him, body squirming and fingers pulling against his arms pathetically.   “Now tell me,” he spoke as you struggled.  “Why aren’t I enough for you?”  You looked at him, confused, your body stilling despite his burning grip on your hair.  

“W-What?”

“I see how you act around crusty over there,” he said, nodding to the door that led out of his bedroom.  You assumed that he was talking about Shigaraki, the nickname seeming too cruel for the man, who had been at least more civil to you than Dabi ever was.  “You basically whore yourself out to him and the other guys whenever I allow you to talk to ‘em.  Fucking beggar.”

“I don’t k-know what you mea-”

“God, really?  It’s bad enough that you’re a slut, but turns out you’re stupid too,”  He said, seething.  “The way you talk to them, like you’re begging for them to fuck you.  The way you let your dress ride up on your legs when you sit near them.  I see it all, dolly.”  You cringed once more at the nickname.  You thought about his accusations, trying to look for a way out of this situation, preferably one where you don’t end up with burn marks all over your neck.  Survival instincts kicked in as you softened your body, turning your brows up slightly and pouting a bit.  You looked like a child, or maybe a lost puppy.  Exactly what Dabi liked.

“I’d never give myself to anyone b-but you,” you said, slurring your words and stuttering purposefully.  

“Mm..” Dabi hummed.  “Really pet?”  

You shook your head affirmatively, swallowing down the bile that had made its home in your throat.  He looked down upon you, his eyes gleaming contentedly, cerulean orbs penetrating the dim light of the room.  

“Prove it.”

Your eyes widened a bit, pupils dilating as a smirk stretched across his cruel face.  

“Down.”  His eyes flicked to the floor, gazing upon the cold cement that lay beneath his planted feet.  His grip on your hair released as you moved to get up, legs shaking as you lowered yourself before him, kneeling on the icy floor.  

“You know what to do now, don’t you pet?”  You gulped heavily at his words, letting your eyes drift to the sickening bulge in his pants.  Trembling hands reached out and undid his belt, your fingers fumbling awkwardly with the buckle as you did so.  

“Good.”  You watched with bated breath as he slid his pants button out of its hole and unzipped his pants.   He reached into his boxers next, freeing his cock and looking down at you expectantly.  

You reached your hands out once more, this time taking hold of his throbbing member.  Your fingers grew slick with a bit of precum, delicate digits tracing it down his shaft as you massaged it.  Dabi’s head fell back as you finally took his dick into your mouth and maneuvered yourself closer to him, just as you knew he would want.  Your tongue glided over it, caressing the veins that sat on his length as you licked up and down his cock.  He let out a sinful groan, letting his hand wander to your hair and grabbing your locks back up between his calloused digits.  

“Hnnn...Little whore, that’s right…” He murmured, looking down on you with a piercing gaze.  “Getting..close,” he said, and you took this as your sign to up your already strenuous pace.  You nursed him to his climax, cringing as he finally peaked, a moan tumbling involuntarily from your lips as he began to shake.  He emptied his load into your mouth, ribbons of white painting your throat like a canvas.  A gasp left you as he pushed you back, causing you to scrape your hands against the floor beneath you as you caught yourself, seed dribbling down your chin and falling onto the silken fabric of your nightdress.  He stared you down, catching his breath as he tucked himself back into his pants.  

“Swallow.”  The word came out breathy and depraved.  Your eyes widened a bit.  You never got used to this part, despising the taste of the salty streams that always coated your mouth after your sessions.  Cringing, you willfully gulped down and licked the area around your lips, gazing up at him with watery eyes, just as you knew he liked.  

Dabi looked down at your disheveled state, eyes roaming over your body and brows downturning in fake pity.  He reached his hand out, gliding his finger beneath your lash line and gleaning the tears that had gathered there.  “Poor little slut…” He drew his tear-coated finger from your face, lifting it to his mouth and running his tongue along the wet digit.  He rubbed his hand against his charcoal colored pants before standing up, purposefully stepping over your vulnerable form and accidentally clamping the sole of his shoe down on your locks, which were splayed across the chilled floor of the room.

You whimper in pain, the tug on your hair adding to your already aching headache.  He gazed back down at you, mockery swirling within his cruel eyes.  “I’m sorry angel, did that hurt?”  He pouted down at you.  His words were far too enunciated, making you feel like a child as you laid helplessly.  “Here, let me help you up.”  Dabi reached his arm out for you to grab, intertwining his long fingers with your quivering hand.  

He pulled up on your arm, dragging you upwards from the floor.  Just as you thought the whole ordeal was over, you felt a searing pain spread through your hand.  You tried your hardest to tug away from the man, who was now wearing a sickening grin on his face as the familiar burn of his flames licked across your palm.  “Agh!” You screamed in anguish as you writhed around.  “Stop it!  STOP!  PLEASE!” He doesn’t cease his torture, instead just looking on as the flames began to dance up your arm.  

Before you can even try to beg him again, he begins to speak, voice uncharacteristically soft. “Oh dollface, you know I can’t stop.  I got to prove to everyone that you’re my favorite little plaything.  My little doll.”  You looked at him in complete horror and began to scream, your full body convulsing at the sheer pain that he was inflicting on you.  You watched him out of the corner of your tear-brimmed eyes as his eyes widened at your thrashing form.  The pain suddenly lessened as his grip on your hand let up, but your arm was still throbbing. You were certain that it was going to scar.  

Looking down, you realized that the burn had managed to form some sort of spiral pattern around your arm, the burn marks looking almost akin to vines.   Sliding down the wall and cradling your injured arm, you sobbed to yourself, not even taking notice as Dabi left the room.  Your only focus was on your limp limb, and the horribly apparent scars that now covered it.  

Dabi shut the door behind him, clicking the lock into place and leaning against it for support.  His head was spinning, thoughts mingling and grating against the expanse of his mind. For some reason, seeing you so utterly despaired and broken after he burned you had pained him. He tried vainly to push that thought from his mind, the very notion of empathy so foreign to him that it disgusted him, that it repulsed him to his very core.  Before he knew it, his mind had wandered over to his childhood, to the many tortuous years that he had long sought to forget.  He remembered the cruel way that Enji had conducted himself around his mother, the way that he would shove her around and condescend her without a care in the world.  He shook the thoughts off quickly, pushing away the guilt that was slowly climbing through his stomach and threatening to suffocate him if he spent too much time thinking about it.  Before long, that shit eating grin he always seemed to wear returned to his face.  He thought about the marks he had given you, the expanse of charred skin that now covered your boney arms.  Now everyone knew that you belonged to him, as they should.  You were his property, and others should know not to touch what belongs to him, what is rightfully his.  And you were just this.

You jolted up from your position at the click of a door, dropping your arm which you were previously nursing.  You backed away from his looming form as he entered the room, shutting your eyes tightly and clutching your arms to close to your chest.  You felt Dabi’s presence before you as he crouched down to your level, slowly reaching out for your singed arm.  You whimper as you sensed him growing closer, your eyes quietly cracking open and falling on his larger frame.  You braced for his touch, drawing into yourself and shielding your face with your hands as he approached you, waiting for a strike or another flame against your milky skin.  All you felt, however, was a benign grasp on your burnt arm. You hissed in pain, trying desperately to pull it back, but his hold on you wasn’t letting up, not even slightly.  

“Please..let go of me.  Just.. even killing me would be more merciful than this.  Dabi, at this point...” You whimpered out pathetically, stopping short as the tears pooling in your eyes betrayed you and began to stream down your reddened cheeks, the trickles of tears a testament to how truly afraid you were.  His sudden change in demeanor had only seemed to scare you more, uncharacteristically kind eyes boring into your own.  

“You know doll, I’ve done so much to get and keep you here. Do you really think I’m going to let you go that easily?  Honestly?  I didn’t think you were that dumb.”  You cringed at his pointed words.  “Hmm.. I don’t plan on letting go of you for...however long you live, I suppose,” he finished, punctuating the threatening sentence with a chuckle.  You didn’t dare say anything else as he dropped your wrist, charred arm falling into your lap. Dabi lifts his head to meet yours, sapphire gaze piercing through you.  He kept eye contact as he grasped your singed arm, bringing your heavy hand to his mouth and pressing a few chaste kisses against your sensitive knuckles.  

You gathered your wits and courage as you averted your eyes from him.  “Why are you doing this?  You’re never..like this.”  He just stares at you, standing himself up and backing away from your form.

A few chuckles fall from his lips, the grating sound swiftly turning into full blown laughter as he wrapped his scarred arms around his chest.  “I forgot how much I loved that fearful look in your eyes.  The way you stare at me like I hold your life in my hands.  It’s so..satisfying.  But you know, I’ve still got to be nice to my doll every once in a while.  Can’t have my little toy breaking, now can I?”  You looked up at him, horrified at his condescending words.  “Now, I wish I could stay, but I’ve gotta go.”  Your eyes glistened as he began to stride away from you, calling back to you over his shoulder. “More heroes to kill and chaos to create, you know the drill.  I’ll see you later babe. Be good for me,” he smirked. And with that, he left you alone again, locking the door behind him as he paced out of the room as though nothing had even happened.

Once you were certain that he was gone, you let yourself go. Tears poured down the apples of your cheeks and you muttered out a silent prayer, hoping that someone, anyone would hear you and free you from this horrendous place.  You weeped until you tired yourself out, eventually letting yourself fall asleep.  All you hoped for as you fell into your slumber was that it would be your last rest, and that soon it would be the salvation of death that would be taking you, rather than the cold embrace of sleep.  Anything would be better than staying here another day, and if dying was what it took to leave, you didn’t care.  You just needed to get out.

You refused to be just a mouse caught in Dabi’s trap.  But deep down, you knew that might be exactly what you will remain as, for the rest of your miserable days.  An animal.  A toy.  

A pet.

[sincerelyella]

Darlin’ (Ethan x f!MC)

Book: Open Heart (AU)

Pairings: Ethan x MC (Ella)

Song Inspiration: Darlin’ by The Beach Boys

Characters belong to Pixelberry; MC Ella Dela Cruz belongs to me

A/N: It’s my darling @aestheticartsx​​‘s birthday, and I know you didn’t want a big fuss or anything, but you’re an amazing person and friend. You support everyone and you have the biggest heart. I wanted to write this little fluff piece just for you ❤️ love you tons!

Warnings: Just pure fluff

The moodboard of Ethan and Ella was made by the birthday girl and I want to thank her for all her beautiful aesthetics

PSA -> today is not her birthday, I am just moving over all my writing from my old blog.

Words: 1592

Ethan Ramsey had an earworm. He found himself going about his day, seeing his patients and humming a melody that had popped into his head since he opened his eyes this morning. As he approached the nurses at the nurse’s station singing under his breath, Danny reached out to take the charts in Ethan’s arms.

“Hey, Doc,” he furrowed his brows as he stared up at him. “Are you … singing?”

Distracted, Ethan shook his head. “No, I don’t sing.”

Danny chuckled as he turned back to stare at the computer screen. “Sounds like you are,” he mumbled.

Don’t know if words can say, But darlin’ I’ll find a way

To let you know what you meant to me, Guess it was meant to be

Ethan stared up at the assignment board, skimming all the names until his eyes stopped on Ella’s. “Danny,” he called out as he made a mental note as to which room’s Ella was rounding on that day. “Can you page Dr. Dela Cruz for me, please? I’ll be in my office.”

“Doing it now.”

Ella was in a bad mood this morning, and he could only assume it was because of that time of the month. However, he knew better than to bring that up in conversation, so he just left her alone and let her do her rounds. Ethan wandered down the hall to his office and unlocked it quickly. He tossed his key onto the desk and let out a long sigh as he sank into his leather chair.

Ethan nodded his head in time with his humming, not even realizing the corners of his mouth had curved up. He thought he would never be vulnerable with someone; he had been careful in that aspect. The trauma and abandonment he felt when his mother left was something that he always thought about; it was the entire reason why he kept people at a distance. The only person he let in was Dr. Banerji, and even then, he still retained some things to himself. Ethan absentmindedly reached into his lab coat’s front pocket and wrapped his fingers around a small box. He slowly ran his thumb over the top of the soft velvet, and his smile grew. He had bought the 4-carat diamond ring months ago, and every time he thought it was a good time to bring up their future, something would distract him. This morning he was already distracted by the song he kept humming, and the fact that Ella was snippy with him didn’t help matters.

“Hey,” Ella stood at the doorway with her arms folded across her chest. “You paged me?”

“Oh,” Ethan stood and walked around his desk to greet her. “Are you okay? You were a little-”

“Bitchy, I know,” she sighed and buried her face into Ethan’s chest. “I’m sorry, I was running late-”

“As usual,” he murmured into her hair as he wrapped his arms around her waist. He tugged her fully into the room and shut the door behind her.

“Mmhmm, I was running late and …” she looked up at him with tears in her eyes.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” Ethan’s heart suddenly skipped, and he felt a tightness in his chest. It was an overwhelming feeling of dread that washed over him within seconds.

“I was running late and … I’m actually late,” she finished, her voice barely a whisper.

Ethan tilted his head and stared down at her. He was mentally prepared to hear the worst news – someone died, she was ending their relationship …

“Ethan?”

He shook his head to clear it. “Uh, you're … late? As in-”

“As in … I’m pregnant,” the tears began to roll down her face, and Ethan’s eyes widened. “I was stressed out this morning, we never talked about our future, I don’t even know if you want kids-” her voice hitched, and she began to cry harder. “I’m so sorry.”

Oh darlin’, I dream about you often my pretty darlin’

I love the way you soften my life with your love, Your precious love

“Ethan, are you listening? Are you singing?”

“I-I’m not … I don’t sing,” he grabbed Ella’s hand and led her to the couch in the corner of his office. He gestured for her to sit, and he got on both knees in front of her. “I know we never spoke of the future, Ella. I’m sorry about that, I … you know I’m not a man of many words. Fancy words are-”

“Not your thing, I know,” she finished for him as she chuckled.

“They’re not, I can’t give you magical words that sweep you off your feet. It’ll be so awkward.”

Ella nodded.

“Truth be told, I never saw myself with a family,” he stared into her eyes. “That all changed when we began our relationship.”

“So, then that means-”

“That means that I’m so happy,” he cupped her face in his large hands. “I’m thrilled, and I don’t want you to cry over this, okay? I love you.”

She flashed a watery smile. “I love you too."

2 am

Ethan lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling fan, willing himself to go to sleep. Ella had already passed out at 8 pm after a large dinner of pad thai noodles, four spring rolls, six pork and chive dumplings, and half of his spicy drunken noodles. He lay in the dark going over the day’s events – was going to be a dad – with the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

I was living like half a man, Then I couldn’t love, but now I can

You pick me up when I’m feeling sad, More soul than I ever had

He frowned. What blasted song was this? He had been accused of singing twice today, and he got strange looks from all the nurses. He turned to grab his phone on the nightstand and quickly googled the lyrics that kept running through his mind. His eyes widened when he realized what song it was. Darlin’ by The Beach Boys was a song his dad regularly played while he was a child. He remembered his parents laughing and happy together when that song was on - which was all the time. Automatically, he turned to look at Ella, who was peacefully snoring on the other side of the bed. It’s a sign.

Ethan quickly stood and quietly tiptoed to the other side of the room, where he hung his lab coat. He reached into the front pocket, took out the small velvet box, and opened it. The diamond shone like a bright star in the dark sky, and he couldn’t help but get nervous as he studied it. He picked it up out of its cushion and admired the studded in small diamonds around the circumference of the ring. Ella was a simple girl that didn’t like too much flash, plus he didn’t want her losing the diamond in a pair of gloves at work. Ethan shut the velvet box, and it made a loud snapping sound. He cringed, held his breath, and closed his eyes while Ella grunted and turned over in bed. Once the coast was clear, Ethan tiptoed to her sleeping form and slowly slipped the ring onto her third finger on her left hand. He stared down at the ring as the diamond seemed to wink at him in the moonlight; he resisted the urge to take it off. This was a stupid idea, he admonished. The worst proposal of all proposals! He scowled at the ring, then tiptoed back to his side of the bed. We’ll see what happens in the morning.

9 am

A loud squeal startled Ethan awake as he sat up quickly and noticed Ella wasn’t in bed.

"Ella? What’s wrong?” His early morning shenanigans were forgotten in his sleepy haze. Ethan saw her come into the bedroom with his large shirt on and widened eyes. “What?”

She held up her left hand, the diamond shining brightly in the morning sun that was streaking into the bedroom. “Did you do this?”

“That … depends.”

“On?”

“On whether you want it or not,” he chuckled nervously as he studied her shocked face.

“Ethan,” she walked around to his side of the bed and sat on the edge. “I’m not sure how you got a ring on such short notice, but … you don’t have to do this just because I’m pregnant.”

“Wait. What?” Ethan shook his head. “No, I’ve had that ring for a while. I have been meaning to propose, I just … always got distracted.”

“You … so you really-”

“Yes, really.”

“Ask me.” Ella’s grin grew wider as she tried to hide her giggle.

“Ella Vivenne Dela Cruz, will you marry me?”

“Wow, Ethan … this is all so sudden,” she sucked her lips between her teeth to stifle her laugh.

“Unfunny,” his deadpan glare made her roll her eyes.

“Yes!” She lunged towards him and straddled his hips.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“We’re celebrating,” Ella bit her lip as she took her shirt off. “It’s not like I can get more pregnant.”

Oh darlin’, I dream you often my pretty darlin’

I love the way soften my life with your love, Your precious love

[rainbowbutterfrosting]

The Revived - Chapter 4: Reunion

This is chapter 4 of the dream smp fic @dramaticsnakes and I are writing. Thank you to @r0w3n-1n-d0ugh for beta-reading this chapter!

AO3

Read in order (on Tumblr)

Characters in this chapter: Wilbur, Tubbo, and Ranboo

Word count: 2,988

Cw: discussions of burns, medical treatment, mentions of hospitals, implied anxiety, implied suicidal behavior, crying

Fic summary: Wilbur was alive, and it was such a magnificent feeling, that made his mind spark with anticipation. It didn’t take long, however, for Wilbur to realize that this new breath of life, was not just his own. An echo-y voice hides in the back of his mind, and before he knows it, the transparent version of him he saw at the endless train station, is a lot more ingrained than he’d expected him to be.

And Wilbur really shouldn’t care. Because he’d be damned, if he spent the life he’d awaited for so long, babysitting a lost cause of a ghost, stuck in the very same limbo Wilbur spent so long in. It was an even exchange, and one Wilbur wasn’t going to mess with. Why exactly he ends up setting out to get the ghost out of his mind, in order to save the both of them, however, is beyond him. And perhaps Wilbur’s past isn’t as easy to leave behind, as he’d hoped it would be.

Tubbo led Wilbur over to a room near the entrance of the house. It was mostly empty except for some boxes labeled with markers. From where Wilbur was, nothing seemed special at first. There were some labeled with clothes, furniture, and pictures, but there was a box named ‘Michael’ that was unlike the others. The peculiar box had some drawings on the side of it. There were three… people in it? The drawings were too shaky to be easily determined, and Wilbur didn’t have the time nor patience to decipher them.

Tubbo caught where Wilbur was staring, “Oh, don’t mind the boxes. We know which ones will have the medkits.” Wilbur nodded as if that was the main question in his mind. Yet, he didn’t want his reunion with Tubbo to be filled with him eavesdropping on his new life.

“Where should I sit?”

Tubbo looked away bashfully, “Oh! I uh, we mostly just sit on the floor.”

Wilbur walked towards one of the walls and slouched against it. His legs still ached from his fight with the ghast, and he gave himself a moment of peace as he closed his eyes.

Apparently, he gave the peace to Ghostbur too, “Thank you. It was starting to hurt again.”

Wilbur mouthed, “No problem,” before realizing that Tubbo and Ranboo were staring at him, with Tubbo looking him directly in the eyes and Ranboo focusing on his burns.

Wilbur propped himself up slightly, “Am I in the way of something?”

Tubbo pursed his lips, “No, it’s just-” He exhaled, “Nothing.”

Wilbur rolled his eyes, “Tubbo, if I’m in the way you can just tell me.” Though Tubbo just shook his head and smiled awkwardly in response. Ranboo kneeled down next to Wilbur and opened the medkit. There didn’t seem to be too much in it, but Wilbur couldn’t judge since he didn’t need a hospital to treat his wounds. 

Ranboo quietly asked something he couldn’t hear, with Wilbur’s confused glance, Ranboo said it slightly louder, “S-so Wilbur, uh, does it hurt right now?”

Wilbur barely resisted the urge to scoff at him, “I wouldn’t be here if they didn’t.”

“Wilby, that wasn’t very nice,” Ghostbur commented.

Wilbur sighed, “Sorry, I’ve had a rough day so far.” His words grew quieter near the end, embarrassed that he needed to apologize to someone he barely knew.

He might’ve expected Ranboo to make fun of him for not having armor or say he was an idiot for going alone, but the boy only nodded and slightly tilted Wilbur’s face towards him. A focused expression came across Ranboo’s face as Wilbur held still. 

Ranboo looked somewhat relieved when he said, “Second-degree at the chin, but uh, first-degree at the surrounding area.”

Tubbo nodded, “Do you know what to do?”

Ranboo shifted his focus to Tubbo, “N-not exactly, but I’ve got a general idea. Sorry, I-” Ranboo tightly closed his eyes and hid his face with one of his hands. An enderman vwoop came out in small chirps. Tubbo kneeled down to where Ranboo was and held his other hand. His eyebrows were knitted together with concern, but he tried to have a small smile on his face.

Tubbo’s voice lowered to a whisper, “Hey, Boo, it’s alright. How about we head outside?” Ranboo responded with a shake of his head. Then came another enderman vwoop, one that sounded like a constant buzz that made Wilbur slightly cringe from the unpleasant sound. Ranboo nodded and stood up, still covering his face with his hand, and Tubbo stood up with him. Tubbo mouthed something to Wilbur that wasn’t clear to him as the married couple exited the building. 

“Aww, poor Ranboo. Ranboo said he’s never met you before but I can explain! Sometimes, he gets… how did Tubbo describe it? I- I don’t think I can remember.” Ghostbur sighed.

Wilbur shifted slightly to look around the corner, and when he couldn’t see anyone, he whispered back, “It’s alright if you don’t know the exact wording, just give me the general idea.”

“Well, I’m not too sure. All I know is that it can be really unpleasant for him. Once when it started happening, Tubbo started counting. I’m not sure why though, maybe Ranboo really likes numbers.”

Wilbur rolled his eyes and made a sharp exhale out of his nose that could have been recognized as a laugh, “I don’t think-” Did Wilbur want to ruin his fun? The ghost was already in limbo. The most he could do was play around with his silly ideas. “Yeah, maybe he really likes numbers.” Wilbur could barely keep himself from laughing at himself saying the statement.

Ghostbur gasped excitedly, “You really think so? Hm, maybe you should ask what his favorite number is.”

Wilbur wanted to close his eyes and rest, but he didn’t want Tubbo or Ranboo walking back in seeing him talk to himself. “Mhm, that’s a… good idea.” Wilbur yawned near the end, his adrenaline crash hitting him rougher than he expected.

“Are you okay?”

Wilbur nodded then remembered that Ghostbur couldn’t see him, “Yeah, yeah. Just a… yeah, I’m fine.”

Ghostbur’s confusion showed in his tone, “I’m not sure what the word for it is, but you seem pretty… the word isn’t sad, because it’s not exactly an emotion, but it takes over your head like the sad thoughts would.”

Wilbur sighed, “Tired?”

“Yeah! I’ve heard that sleeping helps when you’re tired. Not sure though, I haven’t tried it out myself. Maybe you could ask Tubbo and Ranboo.”

Maybe the exhaustion was making Ghostbur… not exactly funny, but somehow adorable in a way that made him want to giggle along with him. “I’ve… I’ve tried sleep… pretty nice.”

“So if you’ve done it before, why aren’t you sleeping now?”

“Supposed to be polite and shit. Not polite to fall asleep in someone else’s house.”

“But didn’t you fall asleep in Techno’s house?”

Wilbur made a confused noise, “Nah, I fell asleep in Phil’s house.”

Ghostbur huffed, not understanding the situation, “But Phil is a someone else, so therefore, you already slept in someone else’s house.”

Wilbur chuckled, “Oh, Ghostie,” Wilbur heard footsteps walking along the spruce floor, and stopped whispering to his counterpart. 

Tubbo peaked his head out, holding a silver bucket in his hands. He walked towards Wilbur’s direction, looking calmer than before as he sat down next to him and grabbed a rag from the medkit. 

“What’s all that noise?” Ghostbur asked.

Wilbur needed to lay down some rules for communication for Ghostbur, but he decided not to do it while Tubbo was there. “Is he alright?”

“Yeah.” Wilbur raised his eyebrows, expecting some kind of explanation, but he supposed it wasn’t his business. Tubbo dipped the rag into his bucket of water and gave the rag to Wilbur. “Hold it where it hurts the most.” Wilbur held it to his chin, both him and Ghostbur giving an exhale of relief. 

“It doesn’t feel as good as the stuff from before. Can we go back to that?” 

Tubbo gently grabbed the hand that wasn’t holding the rag and Wilbur winced from the pain before realizing that his hand wasn’t even burned. When he dodged one of the fireballs he must’ve scrapped his hands on a wall along the way. Tubbo laid Wilbur’s hand down, grabbing another rag from the medkit and dipping it into the water. 

“This might hurt a bit,” Tubbo stated as he dabbed the wet rag onto Wilbur’s hand. Once most of the dirt was cleaned, Tubbo looked closely at the skin and let out a sigh of relief. “I don’t see anything inside your hands so that’s good.”

“Wait- Ranboo told me there were veins and blood inside hands. Did you lose those somehow?” 

Wilbur barely held back a giggle, “Yeah, that’s good.”

Ghostbur gasped, “No that’s not good! Your hands won’t have any circulation!”

Wilbur laughed but tried his best to cut it off short with a cough after seeing Tubbo’s concerned glance. 

Tubbo looked skeptical as he placed a hand on Wilbur’s forehead. “Have you been coughing a lot?” 

“Not really, just happens every now and then.”

“Hm. Let me have the rag for a second.” Wilbur gave him the rag as Tubbo redipped it into the water. “Continue holding it to where it hurts, but hold it with the other hand.” Wilbur nodded and did what he was told. Tubbo grabbed the now free hand and cleaned it like he did the other one. Some dried blood came off which caused Tubbo to frown. 

Tubbo fished around the medkit before he grabbed a small tube. It had a label Wilbur couldn’t read, but he wasn’t too worried about what it was. He taught Tubbo all the medical knowledge he knew during one of the first wars. He would’ve told it to Tommy, but he didn’t have an interest in it. 

Tubbo uncapped the tube and rubbed the semi-transparent paste onto Wilbur’s hands. He winced at the pain, but Tubbo kept going. 

“Wilbur, Wilbur, Wilbur,” Ghostbur hissed. Wilbur wished he could comfort Ghostbur, but he remained silent throughout the ghost’s pleas.

Tubbo grabbed a roll of gauze and started carefully wrapping it around Wilbur’s hand so it would hold itself together. He tucked in the end and gestured for Wilbur’s other hand. Wilbur complied and tried to hold the rag in a way that didn’t touch any of the bandages that were already done. Tubbo raised an eyebrow, “Where are your gloves?”

“Most likely in my pocket…” Wilbur mumbled as he hung the rag on the side of the bucket. Tubbo continued rubbing the paste onto Wilbur’s hand, then wrapped the gauze around it as well. After searching his first pocket with no success, his second one had both gloves in there. He sighed in relief and put on both of his gloves once Tubbo put his hand down. 

Tubbo gently grabbed the bottom of Wilbur’s chin and tilted it upwards. He made a sound of worry then let his hand fall from the man’s face. 

“I don’t know how to handle burns,” Tubbo quietly stated. 

“That makes two of us,” Wilbur shrugged. Although he was slightly disappointed that Tubbo didn’t learn how to, he couldn’t blame the boy either. 

Wilbur started to get up when Tubbo brought Wilbur back down using his arm, but instead of yanking him backward, it gently brought him to the wall he’s been laying on. “What are you doing?”

Wilbur slightly tilted his head, “I’m leaving?”

Ghostbur whined, “Aww, but we didn’t even get to have any fun.”

Tubbo looked at him with disbelief, “We haven’t even treated your burns yet, you can’t leave.”

Wilbur groaned, closing his eyes in frustration, “You’re not my dad.”

“Don’t worry, he should be here soon. Well- him or Techno.”

Wilbur sat up immediately, “What!?”

Tubbo’s casual expression shifted into one of worry, “I said that Phil or Techno should probably be here soon. Did you hit your head too?”

“No no, I-” Wilbur’s mind flashed with his and Techno’s fight. He didn’t even say goodbye to his father before he left. He’d be lucky if either of them would even look him in the eye, let alone help him medically. “I just have to go.” Wilbur shakily stood up, exhaustion filling his mind. 

Tubbo’s voice turned shaky, “Wilbur, just talk to me. What’s going on?”

“Wilbur?” Ghostbur was quiet compared to how loud Wilbur’s mind was.

Wilbur ran a hand through his hair, “It’s fine, it’s fine, I’m fine. It’s all just fine, and I’m good to leave!” 

Wilbur moved towards the exit before Tubbo stood in front of him, blocking his way out. “Wilbur, please, at least let us treat your burns. I- I know you hate me but you don’t need to leave so soon.”

“Wait, you never told me you hated Tubbo,” Ghostbur’s voice creaked with melancholy. “Is there anyone you like? I- I don’t like jumping to conclusions, but first, you don’t like Techie and now you don’t like Tubbo either. D-Do you also not like me?” The last words wavered more compared to Ghostbur’s typical tone. 

“It’s not like that- it’s- it’s more than just that.”

Tubbo looked confused, and Wilbur was reminded of past betrayals and moments of heightened caution. He was reminded of young Tubbo, hesitant to take a stand, his voice now booming with strained determination. Tubbo yelled, tears on the verge of spilling, “Then tell me!”

Wilbur spent so long in limbo he forgot that people might still have attachments to him. He almost hoped that everyone would forget so that he could go back to being himself without any problems. “Tubbo…” Wilbur stepped forward slowly, showing Tubbo he wasn’t going to do anything sudden, and in exchange, Tubbo watched his every move. His eyes occasionally darting to other parts of his body. When Wilbur was right in front of the boy he stopped walking. 

A moment of silence was exchanged between the two before Wilbur bent down slightly and hugged Tubbo. At first, Tubbo didn’t reciprocate, but seconds after, he slowly put his arms around Wilbur. The grip was weak, probably to give Wilbur time to pull away, but he soon tightened his arms around Wilbur, exhaling in relief. 

“W- Wilbur?” Tubbo’s body shook with a sob, but he mostly tried to keep his cries quiet.

“Yeah, Tubs?”

“Are you j- just gonna leave again?” Tubbo’s voice broke at the last word, his composure only lasting so long. Wilbur squeezed tightly in response. 

“Why…  haven’t you responded yet?” Ghostbur wasn’t crying yet his voice mimicked the sadness in Tubbo’s. 

At least a minute stretched between them before Wilbur pulled away. Although he wanted to view Tubbo as a pure equal in the situation, he couldn’t help but give him pity once he saw the boy’s red-rimmed eyes. 

“Sorry, man, I didn’t mean to get so emotional,” Tubbo sniffled and whipped his face into his sleeve.

Wilbur put a hand on Tubbo’s shoulder, “It’s fine. You’re allowed to have your emotions.” Although he didn’t mean to, his voice softened into a warmness that he rarely presented.

“Does this mean you’re staying?” Ghostbur’s hesitance spoke more than his words ever could.

Wilbur took a deep breath in, “Tubbo, you’re not an idiot so I’m going to be honest with you.” Tubbo slowly nodded. “I… I can’t really promise myself staying.”

“...okay.” His voice harmonized with Ghostbur’s.

“Okay.” Wilbur gave Tubbo’s shoulder one last part before removing his hand. 

“Just-” Tubbo’s words came out slower than they normally would have, “Next time you go and… get a life taken away, just please say goodbye before you do it.”

Wilbur gave Tubbo a confused look, “I- Tubbo I just meant I can’t stay at the mansion.” It wasn’t a complete lie. He did mean that he couldn’t stay at the mansion, but what he heavily implied was one of his main thoughts at the moment.

But Tubbo took this lie gratefully, “Oh! I- Oh wow, I really took that the wrong way.” They both awkwardly laughed to themselves.

They stood like that for a little, when Tubbo’s expression suddenly shifted, glancing at a couple of the boxes around them. He bit his lip nervously. “I uh, need to go do something real quick.” he rubbed the back of his head, “I’ll be right back!”

Wilbur nodded in response, as Tubbo walked to a nearby box that Wilbur couldn’t make out the words on, and picked it up. He walked out the door, his posture certainly a little more sheepish, and Wilbur was left alone.

“What happened? Where’d Tubbo go?” Ghostbur asked, his voice quiet, yet less sad than before, “And what was that nice feeling?”

“Hm?” Wilbur asked.

“That nice feeling, like being close to Friend, or… Like safety, wrapped around me?” Ghostbur tried.

Wilbur inhaled, “Oh.” he said. That made sense, perhaps. Ghostbur had felt the relief from the wound being treated too. “I hugged Tubbo.” Wilbur said, feeling a little awkward saying it out loud, “You must’ve felt that, somehow.”

“Oh! Oh, that’s really nice!” Ghostbur said excitedly, “Can I feel everything you feel? How exactly does all of this work?”

“I’m not… Certain.” Wilbur replied honestly, “But perhaps.” his voice turned a little quieter at the last part, as he thought of the implications of that. Because if Wilbur getting hurt, would keep hurting Ghostbur in return, that made the entire thing so much more difficult. It was simpler, when it was just Wilbur, piecing himself together, and taking what belonged to him, despite what it would cost him in the end. But if this voice, that held a tight involuntary grip around Wilbur’s mind, would be affected by all of it too, it made decisions so much harder. It made Wilbur’s plans so much harder because some things couldn’t just be explained away, and the mere thought of those painful screams from before, made Wilbur shiver.

And a brief thought was clear to Wilbur in that moment even if he didn’t say it out loud. He needed to get Ghostbur out of his mind, whatever that would mean. Wilbur needed to keep all of this to himself, because if he ever wanted to complete any of his plans, then dragging around a ghost like that… Someone who remembered so little, yet experienced things just as vividly, would make everything Wilbur wanted to do impossible.

Wilbur heard Tubbo shuffling around with things upstairs when he saw his chance to leave. He had things to get done, and a mind to quiet down. He rushed to the front door, turned the handle and opened it, just about to run outside, when he saw them.

A nervous Ranboo, hunched over, behind a figure that stood tall and confidently. Someone who looked at Wilbur with an expression of cold aggravation. Wilbur swallowed something in his throat. “Hello, Techno…”

[gryfon-spanish-werewolf]

Frozen(Elsanna)xPrey AU Snippet

Little piece that came to me while I was writing down notes about the au as a whole. @themountainsays since I tagged that I’d post it I figure I’d @ ya. Oh and @junglekiing too, since you said you were also curious

For context: Anna has severe memory-loss related to removing a device called a neuromod that previously gave her beyond-human abilities. Bellamy is the head scientist responsible for the procedure of injecting and removing neuromods. When Elsa references “’taking that too” she is referring to Anna’s memories. Dr. Calvino works in the Hardware Labs on an advanced video-tech system called Looking Glass, and Danielle is his chief assistant. Jenni is a deceased npc by the time the game really starts. All of these are characters canonically in Prey

This would be a brief moment of quiet amid the chaos of the station. Finding a little corner or lockable room (after checking it for Mimics) to put up their feet and rest before moving on to their next escape attempt. The topic of their relationship (familial, sisterly, more) comes up and Elsa is open about who was courting whom

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

“You kissed me first you know.” Elsa says, tossing a can of green tea to Anna. 

“I.... did?”

Elsa’s smile is bitter-sweet. “If Bellamy took that too, I’m going to have to find his body, revive him, and kill him again.” She looks at her own can before popping it open with a hiss. “But yes, you did. It was back when we still lived with everyone else, before I got promoted. It was late, I’d gotten off a difficult work day with Dr. Calvino on the Looking Glass tech. He and Danielle had been fighting again, and their hostility put the whole lab on edge. I finally got back down to my pod and you were there, the reading light on, sitting with your legs dangling off the side. Every once in a while you’d bump the closed door below with your heel, which you knew Jenni hated but she’s an ass so we didn’t care.” This time Elsa’s smile is genuine, and she takes a sip with that glow on her face, that fondness. Anna leans forward, enthralled hearing about herself, as if it was someone else.

Maybe it was.

“You ducked beneath the low ceiling and hopped down to the ground, gesturing to the bed with a flourish. You joked that you were keeping it warm for me.”

“Don’t the pods have heating and cooling controls?” Anna interrupts, confused.

“Yes,” Elsa grins back.

“Oh.” Anna scratches her head. “So I was corny.”

“Don’t hang up too hard on that past tense,” Elsa returns, amused, though there is a sadness in her eyes that reduces her words’ cheer. “But yes you were. Are.” She lowers her drink, cupping the bottom with her other hand. She seems lost in the memory, the faintest dusting of pink emerging across her cheeks. “We exchanged some pleasantries --you asked how my day was, I asked about yours-- but you could see I was tired. You gave me a hug and said the next day would be better. But you… lingered.”

“I wanted to kiss you.”

Elsa’s head shoots up as the words leap from Anna’s mouth.

She remembers. Anna remembers.

Not perfectly. Anna scrunches up her eyes, trying to keep the memory stable in the darkness behind her eyelids. “I-I wanted to. You looked ready to drop but you also looked so beautiful. Your hair wasn’t perfect and you smelled a little like the burnt, sooty smell from welding and Calvino’s dark roast coffee. He never drinks anything else. But you also felt small - you fit so neatly in my arms that I just didn’t want to let go. I…” Anna thinks hard, stitching the scene together bit by bit as the pieces threatened to float off into the gaps in her memory. The holes in her life. “I wanted you to know that I was there for you. That I supported you like you always supported me, way back before. And I was feeling braver because everyone was asleep. It was just you and me. And when you pulled back from the hug the light from your bunk spilled onto your face and caught in the corner of your eye and I just stopped holding back.”

Anna mimes the motion in front of her, trying to remember the feel of Elsa’s body beneath her hands. “My knuckle under your chin, my fingers at your waist, and I just reeled you in, before I could second guess myself.” Anna feels her cheeks color. “I… think I was hoping I’d guessed correctly… about you…”

Anna opens her eyes to find Elsa hastily wiping hers. “It was very romantic,” her sister says, but upon seeing Anna catch her, Elsa adds, “well, it was, until you added tongue.”

Anna cringes, choking on her tea she’d been in the middle of drinking. “I did?”

Elsa laughs, a little watery chuckle. “No, I’m sorry, I just couldn’t resist.” She smiles. “It was sweet.”

“Good,” Anna nods, more to herself than Elsa. “I’m glad I… remember that, even if I’m not sure what all that means now.”

Elsa looks like she wants to comment, but decides against it. Too soon. “It also means we don’t have to find Bellamy’s corpse and resurrect him so that I can murder him again,” she says instead, a handful of snowflakes dancing around her fingers before disappearing. “So considering how the rest of the day has been going, I’m going to count that as a win.”

[the-weird-bisexual]

Here For You

Synopsis: Leah comes home from work in time to help Billy through a tough spot.

A/N: I don’t own any of the characters used in this story besides my OC, Leah. This small story is from a long WIP I’m writing of season 2 and 3 of Stranger Things. I feel like a few things should be explained about my OC and her story with Billy. 

Leah Cameron is 18-ish, she lives alone, works at the police station, and lives next door to Billy. She was apart of the lab experiments. She has multiple abilities including telepathy, telekinesis, pyrokinesis, and empathic abilities. She goes through the entire story of Stranger Things and by Season 3, Billy knows of her abilities and that is why in this small story he is aware of what she can do.  

Also comments and anything else is much appreciated! This is the first time I’m posting something I’ve written on Tumblr and I’m anxious to see how this goes!

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x OC

Genre: fluff, a bit of angst, honestly a little sad too

Warnings: Swearing, abuse, mentions of injuries, suggestive talk but nothing much further than that. Underage drinking. An excessive use of Billy calling Leah Princess (because yes this needs to be a warning). If there’s anything else, please let me know :)

Word count: 1584

One night I came home late from working at the station, it was a good day filled with lots of paperwork but also a bit of fun with everyone that worked in the police station. It was a mellow day and I lived for those kinds of days. I drove home slowly jamming out to rock music with Chinese food that I just bought in the backseat. 

I pulled into my driveway and almost instantly I felt a tense kind of air around me. I quickly grabbed my things and went inside my house. I could hear yelling coming from Billy’s and I cringed as it got louder. 

“Ignore it, Lee,” I repeat over and over to myself. I could feel my palms becoming hot. “Calm down.” When it comes to Billy’s home situation, everything could get me heated. It was becoming harder to breathe because of how much I was trying to resist the urge to go punch out Billy’s dad. I couldn’t understand how a father could treat his kid so horribly. It appalled me every time I tried to even comprehend his thinking.  

I set down the bag of food I had in my hand on the counter and then went over to the kitchen table and set down my purse. 

Eventually, the yelling became so stressful for me that I had to go up to my room and try to actually calm myself down. I drew a bath and right as I did the yelling stopped. I walked back downstairs and looked out my kitchen window, which was aligned with Billy’s kitchen window, and saw him walk out and into his room. He was limping and I could feel some of the pain. 

I sighed and waited until he fully got into his room to walk out of my house and towards his window. Once I got there I made sure that no one else was in Billy’s room but him. Once I determined that he was alone, I silently unlocked his window and slid it up. Billy looked out of the window at me and I smiled gently. He moved away and held open the curtains so I could come in. Once my feet touched the floor and I saw how actually hurt he was I went to grab one of his bags and put a couple pairs of clothes and other essentials into it. He stared at me from his bed and watched as I walked around his room and collected his things. 

He whispered, “What’re you doing?” and tried to get up to stop me. I held out my hand and he looked at me weird as his body sat back down on the bed.

“Packing, what does it look like? You’re staying over for a couple of days.” I grabbed his backpack and threw both bags out the window. I turned to him. “Are you ok walking or do you need my help?” He looked at me confused. He wasn’t really processing what I was doing. I assumed that he just wasn’t used to someone giving him as much support and care as I was trying to give him. He stared at me for a couple more seconds and held out his hand. I grabbed it and helped him get out of his window and walk to my house. 

Once we were inside, I led him upstairs and into my room. Setting his bags down, I led him into the bathroom and set him down on the sink. I went to take off his shoes but he stopped me. 

“Princess,” He grumbled. I stood back up and leaned into him a little, not enough to hurt him. “You’re hurt and you need help, B. Just let me help you.” He looked at me with a sad look. He had pain coming from his back and other places on his upper body, I assumed there had to be bruises. His left eye was also beginning to get purple around the edges. I tugged his boots off and assessed his clothes. They weren’t bloody or anything but something told me they just had to be washed.

“I’m fine.” He tried to stop me again. I pushed his ribs and he grabbed my hand roughly letting out a hiss. “You’re not fine. Get undressed and get in the damn tub. This isn’t up for discussion.” I ordered. He bit his lip and smirked at me. “Whatever you say.” He replied softly with a small chuckle. Slowly, he tried to pull his shirt off but let out a string of curse words and looked at me defeated as he asked for help. 

I obliged, of course, and kept myself in check as I ogled a bit too long at his built chest (that didn’t have any noticeable bruising btw). He was honestly the hottest guy I’ve ever seen and damn it was getting really hard for me to keep it in my pants at inappropriate times. He chuckled at my face that was breaking into a beat red blush. As usual, I had inflated his ego just a bit.

“Like what you see princess?” He teased. “You wished.” I choked out hurriedly and turned away from him. “Can you give me a hand here too?” He pointed to his pants and I swear I was beginning to regret offering to help him out at all. 

Long story short, everything came off and he was in the tub. I sat beside the tub on the floor while he sat back and closed his eyes in bliss. He didn’t know the last time he could really enjoy a bath like this, maybe California? He also couldn’t recall the last time he had felt safe around anyone the way he did with me, he felt welcomed and wanted whenever he was around me. He never thought he could feel like that again, after losing his mom and everything. He held out his hand from the bathtub and grabbed mine in his. I sighed in content as he traced circles on the top of it. 

“Thanks,” He mumbled. I looked over at him for a second as he opened his eyes slowly to meet my gaze. “I mean it. You’ve done so much for me and sometimes I can’t understand why.” He admitted. I pulled his hand up to my lips and kissed his knuckles.

“Sometimes I can’t understand why either, you’re a handful.” I joked. He laughed at that and squeezed my hand. “I stick around you, Billy Hargrove, because I like you. But being good looking also has its perks.” I laughed. He nodded his head. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He commented. As I held his hand I healed some of his injuries. He sighed and his eyes drooped shut. The bruising  hurt like a bitch on my back but I knew it’d be gone in maybe an hour. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” Billy mumbled as he kept his eyes closed. “I know.” Is all I responded with. 

After his bath, and after he changed, I led him out to the kitchen where there was food still waiting to be eaten. “Did you have dinner?” I asked as I started to pull out the different items inside the bag. It was a good thing I bought the dinner for two special. 

“No.” He rasped out. He was beginning to get upset and I understood why, I had seen him a few times at his lowest and have felt what he has. If he was honest to himself it was all of the toxicity he’s experienced being with his father for so long and the compassion, intimacy, and warmth that he’s felt from me, clashing together that was making him so sorrowful. 

I didn’t really know whether to talk to him about it or ignore it so I chose the food first and an explanation later method. As I set food on plates I could feel the internal battle within him worsen. Once I was finished plating the food, I handed him a plate with a fork and then pulled out a beer (Hopper had brought them over a while back and forgot about them) from my fridge and handed it to him. 

“I’m not going to ask you to explain how you’re feeling if you don’t want to talk about it but I want you to know that you can let it all out here. This place,” I motioned all around us. “Is your safe spot, where you won’t be judged for what you say and what you do. This is my safe spot and I’m offering a place for you if or when you need it.” I set my hand on top of his and he held onto it tightly. Tears started to fall from his eyes and landed onto the table as he stared down at it. 

I walked around and he turned in his seat as he met my hug. He cried into my shoulder as I hugged him close. I whispered reassurances into his hair and after a few more minutes of crying he calmed down. “You deserve the world, William Hargrove, whether you believe that or not.” I guided his head up to look at me and wiped away stray tears. I smiled at him and pulled our faces closer together, kissing him with a peaceful reassurance that I wasn’t going to go anywhere and that I was with him for the long run.

[mostly-marvel-musings]

A Mere Mortal - Chapter Two

A/N: This story is based on the prompt : Vampires cannot enter a house without your permission, but what if your landlord’s a vampire? It’s his house, he’s just letting you live there. Part of the Landlord Vampire Fic Frenzy hosted by the amazing @just-the-hiddles. I’m super nervous about this one, so feedback’s most welcome!

Series Masterlist

Tags : @buckybarnesplumwhore​ @ladyacrasia​

Pairing: Vampire! Bucky Barnes x Vampire! Loki x Human! Reader

Word count: 1670

Warnings: Foul language. Smut in future chapters. 18+ content!

Taglists open! Let me know if you would like to be tagged in the future chapters.

...

Bucky’s POV

I noticed a car pull up in the square just as I was about to head back home. I stopped to see who I assumed was (Y/N) step out of that car. I was standing at the far end of Chapel Street, I knew she couldn’t see me.

My enhanced eyesight being an advantage, I hid behind a tree and watched her every move. She was beautiful in the most unconventional way. She looked around the town with a child-like curiosity. I suppose she’ll grow to love the town.

The breeze made her hair blow care free in the mid-morning sun. The whiff of her tea tree and lavender shampoo made its way to my nostrils. The scent made my head spin and I had to stop myself from approaching her right then and there and introduce myself. I decided to send her a ‘welcome to Dewsbury’ text instead, as I turned to return home once again. I’ll meet her soon. I have to.

…

Looks like a lot of luggage. You’ll be exhausted after all that moving. Why don’t I come over with a welcome drink? It’s about time we met (Y/N) – James B

As you read James’ text, you couldn’t help but feel a little weird. He seems to be aware of everything, very stalker-ish. But the rational side of your brain intervened, it’s a pretty small town, word must’ve gotten around about the moving trucks and the ‘new girl’, so you shrugged it off and got to work.

About two hours into unpacking, when you were just about done, you couldn’t help but wonder if he was coming over.

He said he’d come by didn’t he? Something must’ve come up, you defended his absence in your mind. Since when were you waiting around for a guy to show up? That too someone who you’d never actually seen in person. It was the damn voice. Okay maybe you were reading too much into it.

Shaking your head to derail your train of thoughts, you looked around your new house proudly. A low rumble in your stomach announced that you were famished. You figured you’d go to the grocery store that was a ten minute walk from the house and buy essentials.

So grabbing a warmer jacket, wallet and keys, you stepped out.

The walk to the store turned into a jog as the wind had turned brutal. The sky was painted in beautiful twilight colors and you couldn’t resist taking your phone out to get a picture.

You heard a shuffling sound coming from your right. You stopped and looked towards the woods, hoping to spot the source of the noise. You found nothing. As you turned back you swore you saw a shadow move through the woods from the corner of your eye.

Before you let panic set in, the rational part of your brain convinced you that it was your mind playing tricks on you. It might have been an animal of some sort.

You kept your gaze on the ground as you picked up the pace, but suddenly bumped into a tall figure.

“I’m sorry I didn’t see­-

Your head snapped up at the voice, recognizing it immediately. The same voice that you found oddly calming over the phone. The voice that made you dream about what the person behind it looks like. Now you had finally come face to face with your landlord.

“You must be (Y/N). We meet at last.” He replied offering you his hand as a warm smile played on his lips.

The initial shock evaporated as you had to mentally shake yourself from getting lost in his steel blue eyes.

He had a well chiseled face with a neatly trimmed beard adorning it, and light brown hair that looked way too fluffy. You found yourself wondering what it’d be like to run your fingers through them.

Your eyes trailed over his body, he wore a white button down shirt tucked neatly in black pants and he was wearing oxford shoes. What’s with the formal look, you thought.

“Uh y-yes I am. It’s nice to finally meet you Mr Barnes.” You clasped his hand in yours and immediately felt his freezing cold skin against your much warmer hand. He must’ve sensed that as he broke contact at that moment and shoved his hand back in his pockets.

“I was coming over to say hi. Are you going somewhere?”

“Yeah I’m actually headed to the grocery store. I figured I’d buy some stuff for the house and get stuff for dinner you know.” You replied, looking at the ground, hands buried deep in your jacket as well.

“Of course. Do you mind if I accompany you to the store? I could probably answer some questions you might have about the house. Unless you want to do it another time.”

He looked at you expectantly, waiting for your reply.

You agreed, surprised initially, and started walking down the road in silence.

You kept glancing at each other after every few minutes followed by an awkward smile. No this cannot turn into one of those horribly awkward meets, you decided you’d do something.

“You were gonna show up two hours earlier.”

“What?” James looked at you perplexed.

Of all things you could think of, you decided to come off as a desperate woman who was waiting around for some guy to show up. Great. You cringed internally.

“I mean, I got your text about two hours ago saying you’d be coming over and then you didn’t show up. Not that I was waiting or anything. Just you didn’t show up. Which is fine.” You continued to ramble trying to cover your embarrassment with some more.

He was amused looking at your flustered state, finding it quite endearing. He laughed before saying, “Oh right I did. I was about to leave the house when one of my old pals showed up. We got to talking and I completely forgot to call you to let you know I’d be late. Sorry about that.”

What he didn’t say, was the fact that Loki showed up at his house unannounced, like he always did. He had met you at the library earlier that day and was intrigued by your demeanor. He wouldn’t shut up about you and described you like an object of wonder which made James worry about you. He’d have to keep Loki away from you. If only it were easy. Loki was known to get his way once he set his eyes on something, or someone.

“Okay.” Was all you managed, not really sure why you spoke up in the first place. You decided to remain silent for the rest of the walk.

…

A worn out signboard of Fred’s Family Mart came into view after a while. It had a faulty light on the right side of it which was flickering constantly. The street was relatively empty except a few people walking in and out of the pubs. The wind making the leaves rustle gently with a distinct whooshing sound, made it look like a typical thriller scene setting.

You stepped in, James followed closely behind. The store wasn’t huge, but it was big enough and had practically everything you could possibly need.

“So (Y/N), tell me about yourself.” James asked as you picked a trolley and walked further into the store.

“Well, I’m a writer. I love to travel, that’s kinda obvious I guess. Not a lot of family, none that I’m close to anyway. My parents split up when I was twelve, and I chose to stay with my Dad. He runs a publishing house, so I was always surrounded by stories which slowly nudged me into writing.” You said while picking through cereal boxes, stopping every now and then to look at him.

“Wow a writer that’s fascinating. What do you write about?” he seemed genuinely interested.

“Mostly fiction. I’ve written a few thriller short stories. New places and towns like these always serve as an inspiration for me. I’ve always had a thing for horror though. The whole paranormal and mystical genre is my jam. I know it sounds weird right?”

He looked at you with a surprised expression as he grinned and added, “No no not at all. It’s good to know. I’m just used to girls saying they’re into romance or comedy at least. Never horror though.”

You were nothing like he imagined you to be. It just made him want to get to know you more.

“That’s such a cliché. I don’t blame you though. But I’m here to break the stereotype.” You said sending a wink his way as you picked out some veggies and fruit, feeling more comfortable around him now.

“Tell me about Dewsbury, Mr Barnes.”

The way you called him Mr Barnes made it difficult to not imagine you saying the same in a different scenario. A very different scenario. He wondered how much of that confident woman persona would differ in the bedroom, if it would. You seemed like someone who’d like to be in control of every situation. That’d be fun to explore, he thought. Perhaps he could teach you…Before his cock expressed interest in that subject, he shook those train of thoughts away and replied.

“Well there’s a lot that would be of interest to you here. This town’s full of rich history and myths. And please call me Bucky, Mr Barnes makes me sound like a sixty year old.” he replied, as you both made your way to the checkout counter. A tall man stood with a bored expression on his face, as you started unloading the trolley.

“Alright Bucky. Myths you say, that’s already got me hooked. What kind?” You asked him with excitement clearly visible in your eyes.

You missed the man and Bucky exchanging a knowing look, as you were busy picking out a flavor of gum that the side of the counter displayed.

“Dewsbury is notoriously famous for vampires (Y/N).”

…

Next Chapter

[randomfandomimagine]

Love Notes (Poe Dameron x Reader)

Characters: Poe Dameron, Finn, BB8, mentions of Rey

Fandom: Star Wars

Tags: Reader Insert, Female Reader, Fluff, Love Notes, Confessions

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,7k words

Requested by anon: Hi! If you’re taking Star Wars requests, could you please write an oneshot, drabble or ficlet with Poe Dameron, where Poe uses BB8 to run love notes to the female!reader who’s a nurse for the resistance back and forward between the two of them all day, as they work on different sides of the base and she figures that the notes are coming from Poe and she admits she likes him too. 

A/N: I quite like the result of this! Hope you enjoy reading it!! 

Poe Dameron x Female!Reader

You were extremely delicate, yet he still hissed through his teeth as you treated him. Clicking your tongue in annoyance, you focused on putting extra care on the task.

“Sorry” You rushed to say, cringing on the inside at the state his bloody face was. “I’m sorry, I’ll be more gentle” 

“I’m teasing you, Y/N” Poe said with a chuckle, making you sigh in relief.

“It’s not funny” You shook your head, continuing to treat him. “You are far too reckless, General Dameron” 

“I told you a thousand times” He showed you a dashing grin when you finished healing all the wounds on his face. “Call me Poe, you’re my favorite nurse after all” 

Facing your back to him, you tried to calm your nerves. Although you wouldn’t admit it, you were incredibly fond of him. As much as you enjoyed seeing him, you hated it when he walked in all bruised and injured. Especially since he didn’t take it seriously and always brushed it off.

“You know what? You’re right” Poe softly tugged at your wrist until you turned around and faced him once more. “It’s not funny, I feel a little sick” 

“No wonder, you have a mild concussion” You observed him in concern, even if his playfulness proved it wasn’t serious.

“Yeah, I think I have a fever...” Still not letting go, he pressed your palm against his forehead. “What do you think? I would love your professional opinion” 

Amused by his smooth manners as well as the grin he dedicated you, you smiled in the end. His own smile widened at the sight of it.

“That’s all I wanted” Even as he stood up, his fingers delicately lingered around your wrist. “Now I can leave with a clear conscience” 

“I’m supposed to be the one looking after you, not the other way around”

“But I feel bad enough worrying my favorite girl...” His smirk assured his words were genuine despite the correction that followed. “I mean... my favorite nurse”

You pursed your lips, tempted to reply with a witty yet flirtatious retort, but ultimately decided not to. Firstly, you were working and wanted to keep romantic matters away from work. Secondly, his boldness flustered you slightly and the words got caught in your throat.

“I gotta go now” Poe slowly let your wrist go, signaliging that you had lost your chance. “Thanks for everything, Y/N” 

“Take care, General” You urged him before he could walk away.

“It’s Poe” He winked at you as a silent promise to heed your words. After that, he left you with the empty feeling of his absence.

-

Other than Poe’s recurrent visits, your workplace was quite uneventful. You sat there, mind adrift as you tried to entertain yourself with something.

“Y/N” A familiar voice called you, and you looked up to see Finn.

“Hello” You fonldy greeted him. “Can I help you with anything?” 

“Yeah, have you seen Poe?” He shrugged in helplessness. “Can’t find him anywhere”

“He was here a few hours ago” You tilted your head, assuming he realized what you were implying. That he had been reckless as usual. “I suppose he’s at the other side of the base” 

“Thanks” Finn made to leave, already taking a step, when something interrupted him.

A droid was rolling around, and a smile immediately settled on your lips when you recognized BB8. The round orange and white droid approached you and stopped before you.

“What’s he doing here?” Finn uttered, watching as you crouched before the droid and took the note from him. 

It had been so long since the last once that you had missed the thrill and excitement from the notes you sent back and forth with your mysterious secret admirer. He was always so fun and charming that you anxiously awaited his responses.

You giggled as you read the note, flattered by his words as usual. 

“M-May I?” Finn timidly asked you, too curious to hide it. 

“Why not?” You handed the small note to him and smiled wide as he read it out loud. 

“I noticed you today as I passed by, you looked absolutely beautiful. I thought to myself... ‘that woman must be the first known angel to the galaxy’ and I couldn’t stop smiling all day” Finn laughed in amusement at the cheesy yet endearing line.

“I know, but...” You shrugged, although you felt slightly self-conscious with his presence, as he broke the usual intimacy in which you read the notes. “It’s sweet”

“How long have you been receiving these notes?” Finn realized this wasn’t the first time, and you could feel his eyes set on you as he returned the note. 

“For a few weeks now, why?” 

“And you don’t know who’s sending them...” 

“No... Should I?” 

“Aw, come on, Y/N!” 

“What?” 

“That screams Poe!” Your friend threw his hands in the air in exasperation.

His confidence on the matter flustered you, especially knowing about your usual interactions with Poe. They were always lovely and left you wanting more. Even if you still couldn’t quite call him by his pen name to his face. It made you wonder... why hadn’t he said anything directly to you? Of course, he was always playful and even flirtatious, yet... he never quite told you if he felt something for you.

“Are you sure?” Turning to Finn, you felt your heart starting to race. 

“Of course” He replied, accompanying his words with a vehement nod. “I can’t believe he didn’t tell me...” 

“He didn’t?” You were surprised, knowing how close they were.

“Not about the love notes... He’s always talking about you, though” Finn cleared his throat, trying to impersonate Poe’s voice. “Like... ‘don’t you think she’s great? she’s the sweetest’, or ‘she is so beautiful in every way, I can’t wait to see her again’, you know? He’s so annoying”  

You chuckled, recognizing his joking tone, and he did too. After a brief pause, the usual butterflies that you now associated with Poe returned.

“What should I do, Finn?” You nervously crampled the paper in your hands.

“Well, do you have feelings for him?” He crossed his arms and tilted his head, although there was an amused grin peeking at the corner of his lips.

“Maybe... I think so” You sighed, anxious about the whole situation. “But how can I know he does too? How can you be so sure that it’s not just a crush?”

“Those notes are telling enough, right?” That grin finally settled on his lips, being equally teasing and compassionate. “Besides, I’ve seen the way he looks at you”

Locking eyes with him, Finn reassured you with an understanding glance. He understood your struggle and your nerves, but he encouraged you with a head nod of approval. You smiled in return, feeling out of breath in anticipation to your confession.

-

It wasn’t until the next day that you gathered enough courage to confront Poe.

Each step you took as you trudged to the other side of the base felt heavy, it tightened the feeling of your stomach being in knots and made you worry about the many words swimming in your mind, and about the entire resolution of the dreaded moment.

When you spotted him standing there speaking to Rey, your heart skipped a beat just at the sight of him. She grinned and told him something that caused him to glance your direction. You gulped when his eyes landed on you.

“Y/N” He received you with a warm smile, absently patting Rey’s arms to excuse himself. “What are you doing here? It’s great to see you, though”

“Tell me about it” Being away from your workplace, you felt a little more comfortable playing into his game. “We needed to stop meeting like that”

Pleasantly surprised by your comment, Poe laughed a little. He took you by the elbow and guided you to a more quiet area where you could have privacy to talk.

“Did you need something?” When he took a closer look at you, his brow furrowed in concern. “Wait, are you okay? You look a bit nervous” 

You nodded your head, both agreeing that you were nervous but assuring you were okay. Poe muttered a compliant ‘alright...’ and patiently waited for you to speak up.

“I wanted to talk about this” You showed him the notes from him you had collected over all those days. He took it from your hands with feigned curiosity.

You saw as his eyes read along the words you knew by heart already.

“W-What... what is this?” He tried to play dumb, although you saw through him.

“You know full well what they are” You took them from him with a sigh. “Why didn’t you just say anything, in person?”

It took him a few seconds to reply, perhaps considering whether to budge or not.

“Well, you seemed really shy” He shrugged, though his eyes were watching you fondly. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable”

“I’m not shy... you just can’t expect me to openly flirt with my patients”

“You wanted to openly flirt with me?”

“Poe...”

His eyebrows raised at the mention of his name, his real name. Used to his gallant smiles, you were shocked when he showed you a smitten one.

“I think it’s the first time you call me that” His fingers tentatively tugged at yours, intertwining with them when you accepted the touch. “It sounds so much better from your lips”

To accompany the words, his eyes lowered to your mouth. Reading his thoughts, you were more than willing to indulge in that exchange.

“Don’t expect me to call you that while I’m working” You half-joked, ignoring your racing heart as you leaned in closer.

Poe smirked, pressing his hands against the small of your back to push you even closer until your noses almost touched.

“We can always keep sending each other love notes” He whispered as his eyes became distracted with the proximity of your lips.

“That only makes sense if we love each other” You teased him, shivering as your mouths grazed. 

“Well, I do...” He smiled, the gesture being dangerously close to leaning against your lips. “What about you, Nurse Y/N?” 

“Me too” Your arms locked around his neck, keeping him close. “Even if the excitement is gone now that I know it’s you”

“I didn’t know you could be so witty” He laughed, smitten with that side of you. “I love it”

“Then kiss me, Poe” Before he could oblige and make the move, you closed the minimal distance and smashed your lips on his. 

Tag list: @call-me-harley-quinn​ / @c-taylor-wanna-be-a-glader​ / @fortheloveofbenyandtom​ / @caswinchester2000​ / @danietoww04​ / @x-joie-x​/ @mattiekins​ / @lotsoffandomimagines​ // If you want to be added or taken off the tag list for these fandoms or characters, let me know!! // Reblogs and comments are appreciated!

[mrsdr-ethan-ramsey]

Rookie (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Y’all, I couldn’t stop myself from writing this at like 12:30 last night. I literally fell asleep writing, but I needed to feel more angst. Honestly my biggest fear is that Ethan will start calling someone else Rookie. Plus it was an excuse not to do homework. I hope you all like it! (Also if you have any ideas or requests with Ethan, I would be more than excited to try to write them!)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x MC (Parker Kennedy)

Summary: When Parker hears Ethan call another intern Rookie, she can’t stop herself from confronting him.

Warnings: Angsttttttt, cause I love and hate how much Parker and Ethan hurt right now

Word Count: ~2500

‘So far, so good’ Parker thought as she maneuvered through the familiar halls of Edenbrook. She was off to pick up her intern, Esme Ortega, after delivering the results from the diagnostics patient she tested early today. She felt like she was on autopilot as she thought back to her discussion with Dr. Ramsey.

“We’ll be okay. We’ll make it work.”

Her heart still stopped as she thought about those words. To anyone else it would sound like they were talking about work; about their professional relationship. But they weren’t. He held her hand as he told her those words. His thumb rubbed the back of her hand so lightly that if she hadn’t looked down she probably would have missed it. Was he talking about their work relationship? A little bit. Was he talking about their personal relationship? She hoped to some greater being that he was. Needless to say, she felt like she was on top of the world.

Once she reached the nursing desk, she found Esme talking with Jackie and her intern, Molly Addison, adamantly. Parker put her best smile on her face as she came over.

“Hey all! How were rounds? Sorry I had to miss it Esme.”

Esme looked over at Parker, obviously not enjoying her peppy attitude. “It was fine.”

“Oh my gosh, no it was amazing!” Molly squealed. At this, both Jackie and Esme cringed. Parker hid her slight annoyance for the young red head as she gushed about all the ‘super cool!’ things they had seen! Parker only slightly regretted asking her about rounds, but she was happy that the young intern was enjoying her time at Edenbrook.

“I’m glad you’re finding your place here!” Parker smiled, “But I’ve got to talk to Esme about a couple things. We’ll see you guys later!”

Esme quickly followed Parker whispering a small ‘Thank God’ as Jackie sighed, being left with the human version of sunshine and bubble gum.

***

After a couple hours of showing Esme the ropes and watching her present her case, she finally found herself back at the nurse’s station. She was about to congratulate Esme on her stellar performance so she could see her roll her eyes again before she heard a deep voice call down the hall.

“Rookie!”

Parker’s head immediately snapped to the familiar voice, ready to go help with Dr. Ramsey with whatever he needed. Just as she was about to head over, she watched Molly skip over.

“Yes Dr. Ramsey?” She asked sweetly, her voice dripping with desire.

Parker couldn’t hear the rest as her high from earlier quickly died. He obviously called her that before because she came right over and he started talking to her. When did he start calling other people Rookie? That was her nickname! Right? Although, he did seem reluctant to call her Rookie when she saw him at Donahue’s…but that doesn’t matter. The point is, he had only ever called her rookie. Now suddenly this beautiful intern was Rookie?

“Woah, Parker. Don’t think too hard. There’s going to be smoke coming from you soon,” Elijah called, snapping her out of her internal panicking.

Parker turned to see Elijah and Sienna coming up, their interns following close behind. They seemed good, not overly excited like Molly but more open to conversation than Esme.

“Second year doctors meeting only,” Parker said quickly, tugging Sienna and Elijah some ways away from their interns.

“What’s up P?” Elijah asked.

“That!” Parker whispered angrily as she gestured towards Dr. Ramsey and Molly talking down the hall. “He called her Rookie!”

At this, both the doctors’ eyes widen.

“Seriously?!” Sienna exclaimed. She wouldn’t be happy to beat up Dr. Ramsey, but if Parker needed her to she would happily kick his ass back to the Amazon.

All three of them turned their eyes turned back to Dr. Ramsey and the intern. He must have felt their eyes on him, because his attention immediately turned and shot them a little glare. In panic the three quickly ran off with their interns, hoping to avoid the wrath of Dr. Ramsey.

***

Parker tried not to think about how betrayed she felt. She really did, but it always seemed to be nudging her in the back of her mind no matter where she was. She bumped into six different people because she had been so distracted about it. That’s how she ended up wide awake in her bed at 2:30 am. Her body rolling around under the covers, hearing Ethan say Rookie only to have the young intern bounce up to him happily. She was pretty, Parker did have to admit that. Her hair was naturally red, layered with different shade of red and orange that made it look like flames. She was small with a near perfect figure. Parker, on the other hand, was scrawny right now and slowly starting to gain weight now that Sienna was making sure she ate three meals a day. While Parker had brown-green muddy eyes, Molly’s eyes were crystal blue. Seriously, how could a man resist a girl like Molly?!

Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or the desperation to know what was going on, but Parker found herself climbing out of bed quickly. She pulled on leggings and a baggy sweatshirt before she called an Uber. Tip toeing through her apartment, she was glad Landry was no longer there. If he had, she wouldn’t be surprised if he was up ‘getting ready to go to the hospital’ as this time. She rolled her eyes at this thought before slipping a pair of shoes on and hurriedly leaving her building.

The ride was short without the normal traffic of the busy city. 2:45 was an excellent time to drive through Boston, Parker thought as she stared out the window at the lights flying by. The towering buildings were a dramatic change from her Midwest home, and she loved it. She was meant to be here; she could feel it deep within her.

Once at Ethan’s apartment, she thanked her driver and tipped her generously for driving her at such an awful time. Parker than moved towards the familiar building, pressing his apartment number praying the buzzing would wake him up. After a bit with no response, she repeatedly hit the button over and over (she knew this would annoy him awake).

“I swear if this is a prank I will call the cops,” she heard Ethan’s familiar voice crackled angrily through the intercom, Jenner barking in the background.

Quickly, she hit the speak button and said urgently, “Ethan! It’s Parker! I need to talk to you, now!”

“Parker?” He sounded confused, and tired.

Before she could reply, she heard the lock click. She didn’t waste any time getting into the building, hitting the number for his floor. The elevator shot up, brining her closer to a sleepy (and more than likely pissed) Ethan Ramsey. When she was outside his door, she hesitated. Was she really going to barge into Ethan’s apartment and demand to know why he’s calling Molly, Rookie? This was crazy! She was crazy! She should just go home, and if Ethan asks her just deny, deny, deny. She could convince him it was a dream, right? Ugh, who was she kidding. Ethan’s too smart to fall for that plan, she thought. Instead, she stood at the door; petrified as she lifted her hand and knocked gently against the wood.

Ethan had never been a heavy sleeper, so when he heard his buzzer go off the first time he thought it had been someone hitting the wrong number. After it keep going incessantly and Jenner started barking, he forced himself out of his light sleep to scare the kids ringing his buzzer shitless. He had been more than surprised to hear Parker’s voice and quickly let her into the building, assuming that something had happened. He couldn’t think of another reason as to why she’d come 3 am. He swung the door open, preparing for the worst, but was surprised to see her completely fine.

“Parker, what’s wrong?”

Hearing his voice, heavy and low with sleep she lost her train of thought. All she could think about was how she had woken up to that voice before. How he kept her in bed as long as possible, knowing that when they left her room it’d be over. She just hadn’t expected him to replace her so quickly.

“Did I mean nothing to you?” she whispered, barely audibly. Tears threatened to stream, but she refused to cry in front of him. She already felt like a child compared to him, if she cried in front of him it would be the icing on the cake. But Ethan could easily see through her, so he opened the door wider to let her in. He wouldn’t let her cry in the hallway.

As she crossed into his space, Ethan’s brows furrowed in confusion, “What are you talking about?”

“Rookie.”

Ethan’s face flushed. “You heard that?”

Radio silence. Neither knew what to say to make this situation better. There was an invisible wall between the two and neither were quite sure how to take it down. Parker had tried that first night at Donahue’s when she kissed him, only to receive the nicest rejection she had ever gotten. She had hoped that seeing her and kissing her again would remind him of what they had before he vanished. Unfortunately, he had a much better resolve than her. So now she didn’t know what to do. She had no backup plan on how to win him back over.

“If you weren’t interested in me, you could have just told me…if you just wanted someone prettier you could have just said, you didn’t need to string me along for two months and then flirt with another girl in front of me to make that point.”

“I wasn’t flirting with her Parker. Christ.” He ran his hands through his bed head. How had she gotten that from one conversation with an intern whose name he couldn’t even remember? Did she really think that he’d try to get with an intern when he just told her that they need to keep a professional relationship? Did she really think that low of him?

He locked eyes with her. “I didn’t know her name and couldn’t be bothered to ask.”

Parker looked back at him, begging his deep ocean eyes to tell her the truth. She saw that he was actually hurt that she had thought he was flirting with another intern. She felt stupid for jumping to conclusions, but it had hurt to hear him call another person ‘Rookie’. If he was looking for a sure way to drive her crazy, he found it without even trying.

“I…I guess I had always thought I was your Rookie. I didn’t think you’d drop it as soon as you got back…”

“Parker,” he said gently, “You’re not a Rookie anymore. You’re a skilled doctor who earned her way onto the nation’s top diagnostics team. I assumed you wouldn’t want me calling you that anymore.”

He was right, as usual. Anyone else listening in would probably find the nickname degrading, not endearing like she did. She couldn’t fight his rationale behind the name change, so instead she looked down at her feet like a child caught stealing a cookie. Ethan looked at her small frame, finally analyzing her. She seemed a little off than what he had remembered her being two months ago. She seemed a little duller, not as wide-eyed and hopeful as she did when she first walked through Edenbrook. He hated that she lost her sparkle under his watch; he had no one to blame but himself.

Parker made her way to the floor to ceiling windows, looking out over the bay as she crossed her arms protectively in front of her. She was putting up a barricade around herself, hoping to ease the pain. If the wall between them wasn’t coming down, she’d simply put one around herself to stop her from trying to scale or break it down to get to him. “You still have the best view in all of Boston.”

“I’ve learned to appreciate it more,” Ethan said with a sad smile, thinking about how Parker had pointed the view out to him the first night they were together. That felt so long ago. He studied her shrunken frame. She looked at home in his space. He loved that, but he knew he shouldn’t get used to it.

Ethan heard her let out a small yawn, reminding himself of the time. “Why do you get a little rest before your shift. You take my bed; I’ll take the couch.”

At the offer, Parker turned back to look at him. “Oh, you don’t need to do that. I’m fine on the couch.”

“Nope. My house, my rules.” He insisted, as he lead her into his bedroom. He made quick work ordering Parker to take off her shoes and get in the bed. Once she was laying down, he pulled the covers up around her.

Parker let out a yawn as she looked up at Ethan sleepily. “Thank you.”

“You’re always welcome here Parker.”

As she closed her eyes and flipped onto her stomach, Ethan couldn’t stop his heart from going wild. Seeing Parker Kennedy back in his bed made him wish that he could wake up to this view every day. He wanted nothing more than to climb into bed next to her and pull her into his chest, whispering sweet nothings as she drifted off. Fuck, he had never been a romantic before she came barging into his life. He hated that she did this to him, but loved it just the same. Fighting every urge in his body to get into the bed, he walked out to the living room and sat down on the couch. Flicking on the lamp, he slid his glasses on and began to read a new medical journal as Jenner slept happily at his feet.

***

The morning had been weird for Parker and Ethan, but they maneuvered it as gracefully as they could…like a baby giraffe learning how to walk. They stumbled around kitchen making coffee and toast. He even offered to give her a ride to the hospital. As they walked in, they saw Baz walking in as well, so Ethan (ever so smooth) made the comment that ‘He and Dr. Kennedy had met early to discuss her role on the team’. Parker couldn’t help but smile at this as she went off to find Esme and start the day.

Late in the afternoon at the nurse’s station, Parker caught a glimpse of Dr. Ramsey talking to Molly again. Her stomach flipped and she tried not to listen in to the conversation…but she really couldn’t help herself.

“Dr. Addison, I expect the results on my desk by 6. And your patient better not be dead.” He said sternly, leaving Molly with a shocked look on her face. 

As Dr. Ramsey stormed off, he met Parker with a soft smile. He may not call her Rookie at work, but he knew he couldn’t call anybody else her nickname.

[zeta-in-de-walls]

I... might have written a little fanfic. Have I mentioned how enthralled I am by Wilbur and Tommy’s dynamic?  Takes place, post current streams but pre-festival. I had a go at writing a quick scene of Tommy trying to reason with Wilbur. Enjoy!

- Title: Trust Word count: 1152  Characters: Wilbur, Tommy Genre: Introspective, friendship, angst

-------

“Wilbur?” Tommy’s voice was uncharacteristically soft.

Wilbur continued to gaze out into the verdant lands of Manberg. “Yes, TommyInnit?”

Time was growing short; the festival was in a few short hours. It was so little time to try and convince Wilbur, the most driven person he knew. But he couldn’t give up.

“You’re an incredibly brave person. You know that, right?” Tommy said sincerely.

Even from slightly behind Wilbur and on his right, Tommy could see him start to smile. “You think I’m brave? I don’t get into half as many fights as you.”

“Oh, I mean it alright. You formed a nation! You challenged Dream on his own server and inspired us to stand with you against impossible odds. You’re incredible Wilbur,” he replied.

“I mean, obviously not as incredible as me – I am the best of course,” Tommy added lightly, chuckling. “But you’re definitely up there, man.”

“And… I’m proud to follow you,” Tommy muttered, placing a hand on Wilbur’s shoulder.

“Thank you, Tommy.” Wilbur replied, tone unreadable, but he had finally turned to look at him. “You’re an awful right-hand man – very bad at hiding and decorating,” he teased. “But you’ve got so much passion and drive and I know I can trust you.”

Tommy beamed. He was incredibly worried for Wilbur – the former President had gone practically insane after living in a ravine for a few weeks, suddenly convinced everyone was out to get them. He had been lashing out at Tommy more and more, and he’d been deathly afraid that Wilbur would start looking at him differently too. When that happened, he wasn’t sure there was anything he could do for him.

Staying with Wilbur was tough. But he couldn’t abandon him now. Not when he was so close to making the biggest mistake of his life. It was up to Tommy, his right-hand man, to make sure he didn’t fuck everything up.

That meant he had to choose his words carefully.

“For such a brave man, your plan is very cowardly,” Tommy stated. “Blowing everything up in the middle of a party? That crosses the line.”

Okay, so he only knew how to be blunt.

“What?”

“Wilbur you know it’s reckless! How will anyone respect us when they know we bombed our old home? That’s the sort of stuff Dream’s goons did. And we’re better than that!”

Wilbur sighed and started walking, making long strides. “Tommy we’re here to cause chaos. We can’t beat them at their game – but we can destroy them.”

“I don’t want to destroy them!” Tommy snapped, hurrying to catch up. “Tubbo’s there!”

“Tubbo will be fine, I know you’ve been dropping hints to him. Let’s not pretend you care about the rest of them,” Wilbur replied, his voice had resumed its biting tone he’d been dealing with all week.

Tommy cringed – Wilbur was a perceptive person and Tommy hated how much that one hurt to hear. He wanted to shout – but he couldn’t afford to let his temper run away with him. He cared… didn’t he?

Wilbur noted lack of response. “Sorry Tommy. This is hard for me too – but you’ll feel better when you stop pretending – trust me.” Wilbur’s voice was soft. “We don’t need to win back L’Manberg.”

“I think we both have bridges we need to burn and we can’t keep clinging to the past. That’s why I have to do this. I- I’m not a coward, Tommy. This is the hardest thing I’ve had to do.”

And Tommy believed him.

“But Wilbur – what if you’re wrong? What if we’re both wrong?”

Wilbur stopped walking and turned to face him, a very pained smile adorning his face

“Tommy… if the others believed in us, then where are they? As usual, you are the only one with me. True, we’ve been in hiding, but is our base really a secret anymore? They could find us and support us but they’ve chosen to stay in Manberg.”

“I waited, you know,” he continued. “I spent a considerable amount of time making our ravine liveable. In that time, I only saw you, Tubbo and Technoblade. Where are the citizens I supposedly inspired? Everyone is gone but you.”

Tommy sighed, feeling tired. Wilbur trusted him. It should have been a comforting thought, but it was daunting – to be the only one Wilbur trusted. No matter what, he wouldn’t - couldn’t – abandon him.

“I know Wilbur,” Tommy took a step forward, standing right next to him as he looked forward, Manburg visible in the distance. He missed it.

“But,” Tommy continued, “they’re just playing the long game, biding their time until we make our move. They haven’t abandoned us – they’re believing in us.”

“Maybe they are just choosing the path of least resistance, Tommy,” Wilbur countered. “People are like that, trying to stay on good terms with everyone until they choose to support the winning side. It doesn’t mean they really respect us.”

“That’s just not true!” Tommy said, voice raised.

“Maybe they respect me – a little,” Wilbur amended. “But they’ve never respected you – they like to make fun of you, ruin your day. How many times has your house been griefed?”

He had no idea. “I don’t care,” Tommy replied angrily.

He knew what Wilbur was doing – he was trying to infuriate him – and it was working. Whatever, he didn’t care about his house or that everyone viewed him as a loud child. He’d proved himself in the independence war and he would prove himself again when he saved L’Manberg. He wouldn’t gain anything from blowing it all up.

“Tommy, I’m blowing up this server and I’ll do it for you! You’ll be free and happy again once everything that’s holding you back is gone. You can spend your days listening to music and building bunkers!”

“No Wilbur, I don’t want this!”

Wilbur’s voice was as calm as ever. “You don’t know what you want, Tommy, you’re confused and scared and its okay.”

“No, Wilbur, I never give up. Even if you’re right, I have to try, I have to see if we can do this, legitimately. Just give it one more chance. For me.”

“The explosions are already planted. We just have to go and light it up.”

“Then let’s get going. But stay your hand – maybe we can just threaten everybody and get away with it. Just give the people one more chance and maybe they won’t disappoint you. We can overthrow Schlatt and we can do it the right way.”

There was a long pause as Wilbur mulled over his words. “Tommy, I don’t think we can afford to hesitate for long.”

“Please Wilbur – just one chance – and if I’m wrong then I’ll light the TNT myself. Sound fair?” Tommy offered.

“Alright, TommyInnit. I’ll follow your lead. But when I tell you to light the TNT, you have to obey me. Promise?”

“Wilbur, I promise.” Tommy answered sincerely. “Let’s go.”

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

Thanks for reading, feedback appreciated. Leaving the ending up to the imagination. Think I should post it on AO3? 

[intubatedangel]

Out of Body: Chapter 3

Didn’t really feel like writing much of a resus scene after recent events, but I already had some stuff written so I worked it in where I could while expanding the story a bit more.

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

************

Jane The ambulance swung into the emergency bay of the major trauma centre, stopping a few feet beyond an assembled team of doctors and nurses. They were already in blue surgical gowns and with the coordination of professionalism and experience, they spread around the back doors and pulled them open, dragging the gurney out. Dave was still pumping the ambu bag while Jane, her sweat slicked fringe sticking to her forehead, handed over the IV bag and monitor to waiting hands before the team ran inside. “What have we got?” The trauma lead asked as he ran his eyes across Laura’s restrained body. His eyebrows raised slightly at the improvised chest tube. “Laura Beckett, 23. Involved in an RTC, sedan vs motorcycle. Fractured femur, query dislocated hip and knee. Fractured wrist as well. Multiple broken ribs and punctured lung, leading to severe haemothorax. Resulted in cardiac arrest, downtime of approximately 25 minutes, reversed after the pressure of the haemothorax was relieved. BPs still low and O2 sat’s barely over 80. Currently sinus tachy at 120.” “Beckett?” The doctor asked, not asking the question out loud. Jane simply nodded. “Ok, lets get her inside, fast beep radiology we need to get a full trauma series ASAP. Let’s get a proper chest tube in, get her on the vent and pack the rapid infuser with TXA, platelets and 2 units of O-neg.” “She’s A-positive.” Jane cut in. “Good, lets get 6 units of that up from the blood bank. Get in touch with cardiothoracics, orthopaedics and neuro for consults.” The rest of the team confirmed their orders as the gurney was pushed into the primary trauma room. After a 3 count Laura was lifted across onto the table, a flurry of action surrounding her as doctors and nurses perform the assigned tasks. The lead eased Jane back. “We’ve got it from here Jane.” She shook her head defiantly, but her voice came out in a whisper. “I’m not leaving her.” “You’ve done your job. And done it well, but you can’t help her in here. Go get cleaned up, you’ll be the first to hear when we have any news.” Jane lingered for a moment, gazing at her sisters body as nurses rapidly stripped away her clothes, discarding them into a bloody heap in one corner of the room. Then her shoulders slumped and her head bowed as she retreated from the trauma room, discarding her gloves into a bin. Dave tried to catch her attention, but she ignored him, heading towards the ladies restroom while pulling out her phone. Ashir Ashir sat at his desk, much of the room shrouded in the late-night darkness. The desk itself was lit by a powerful lamp that starkly highlighted thin tendrils of smoke as they were drawn into the small extraction unit mounted in the window. He peered through the microscope, gently applying more solder to the electronic circuit board he was working on. It wasn’t work that needed to be done right now, but he needed something to occupy his mind. He made a satisfied grunt and shifted the microscope out of the way. He leaned back, stretching and rubbing his eyes, while spinning on his chair. His gaze fell on the other desk in the room. Laura’s desk. It was cluttered, stacks of newspapers, photographs and journals were strewn about in a system that Ashir couldn’t recognise, but his journalist roommate seemed perfectly at home with the mess. The pin board hung on the wall behind the stacks was a different story. It was laid out like a true conspiracy theory board. Over a dozen profile pictures formed the centres of different sections and various colours of string linked articles and reports in a web that looked chaotic at first glance. Looking closer, and with only a small amount of guidance, it began to come together into a cohesive whole. Ashir sighed. He really hoped his roommate was wrong about all this. But even he had to admit the evidence was compelling when presented in the way she had laid it out. That was part of what worried him. She should have been back by now. Or at least have dropped him some form of message. At least she’d told him where she was going. He’d been able to get his own backups into place. She’d probably kill him if she knew about them. As that thought crossed his mind his phone began to ring. He let out a relieved sigh as he prepared to make his concern clear. That was when he saw the caller ID. His hand trembled as he answered. “Ash you were right. She’s in over her head.” Jane’s voice was tight. “What happened?” Ash was already on his feet looking for his keys. “She’s hurt Ash. She’s really hurt.” “I’m coming down there.” He pulled on his jacket then flicked off the light. “Hurry Ash.”

Laura

I heard the noises first. Alarms sounding. Orders being given. I opened my eyes, once again struck by seeing the world in that strange brightness. A nurse was above me, rocking backwards and forwards, her ponytail flicking to and fro with the motion, until she paused for a brief moment. I followed her arms, down to her hands that rested in the slight valley between my breasts.

“Still nothing, resume compressions.” Someone said. The nurses hands suddenly disappeared into my chest. CPR, I was getting CPR again. My heart had stopped once more. The way the nurses compressions passed through my ethereal form was still incredibly disconcerting, so I sat up and looked around. Doctors and nurses surrounded me, but there was a gap at my feet. I managed to scooch past them without passing through anyone, then turned to look my body.

I was naked on the table. And I didn’t look good. My chest was heavily bruised, with tubes sticking out of either side, Jane’s impromptu effort having been replaced by a proper chest tube, an identical one mirroring it. My broken arm and leg had both been splinted and bandaged, though the bandages were already stained through. A urinary catheter had been placed. I was slightly glad I hadn’t seen that happening, someone touching me in such an intimate place.

A large bore IV was in my leg, with other lines into my arms and another one near the base of my neck. Blood and saline were flowing into my body, though as I watched, a nurse pushed some drugs into the central line.

The ecg wires trailed across my chest, leading to a monitor that hug above the trauma table. The line on the monitor was flat. I looked down at my chest, seeing my lifeline still strong and thick. I also saw that my ghostly form was naked too. I instinctively tried to cover myself, despite no one being capable of seeing me.

I looked around for my clothes, shredded and discarded into one corner. I reached out to them, but of course my hand passed right through them. But there was something. A strange feeling, almost like a memory of sensation across my whole body. I reached out again, letting my hand linger within the bundle. The sensation became stronger, growing steadily, and it was almost like I could feel the clothes on me.

I took a deep breath, recalling the meditation techniques my therapist had taught me years ago. How visualising a result can help it happen. I had no idea if it would work, but I’d rather not walk around naked, even if no one could see me. I tried to hold on to the memory of my clothes as I pulled my hand out. I could still feel the clothes on me, and focused on that feeling, blocking out everything else. Slowly, I let out the breath and opened my eyes, looking down at myself. I was clothed. My dark grey t-shirt and similar coloured pants were whole, despite their real counterparts being little more than shreds before me. My black hoody was also on me, unstained by blood like the genuine article.

“We’ve got V-fib.” Someone shouted, dragging my attention back to my body. The alarm had changed, it was familiar enough that I knew what was going to happen next. A doctor, fully gowned and masked, held a pair of black paddles down against my chest. “Clear!” He said, a moment before my naked body jerked on the trauma table. I cringed at the way my legs spread slightly.

“No change. Let’s do another minute of compressions and shock her again.” A nurse immediately had her hands back on my chest, pressing it down, seemingly quite easily. Given how petite the nurse was, my ribs must be really soft.

It was almost enough to turn my stomach, and I instinctively took a few steps back. There was a momentary feeling of resistance, and suddenly I couldn’t see anything. I paused, realising that wasn’t quite right. I could see, there just wasn’t anything too see. Except the papery texture of the back of the plasterboard sheet in front of me, and the treated timbers that were the drywall studs. I was inside the wall. I took another step back, emerging into a corridor.

It was a quiet corridor, empty except for a cleaner at the far end. Yet I could still hear a voice. Quiet, but clear. It was counting. “15…16…17…18…” I grimaced slightly, then plunged back through the wall. The nurse was still pressing down on my chest, and she was mouthing the words, but more to herself. She wasn’t shouting by any stretch, in fact I would be surprised if her words would even carry to where I stood.

So, I can still hear what is happening to my body. Helpful. I glanced down, concentrating slightly to look at my lifeline. It was still strong and steady. How far can it stretch? I remembered Keith telling me to stay close, but the lifeline was thin then, insignificant compared to the almost cable thick line I could see before me now. I made up my mind. I strode across the room, towards the doors, unable to stop myself from hesitating just slightly before I walked through them. Again that slight resistance, more a reminder the wall was there, than something really stopping me, tugged as I passed through. And then I was in a different corridor, busier, but still quiet.

 I looked around, hoping to see Jane, but she was not there. I walked down the corridor, trying to figure out precisely where I was, or where I should go. I glanced at the signs, but most of them were mainly just numbers, hanging in front of cubicles or other offshoot corridors. Coloured lines were on the floor, branching out down the corridor behind me. Presumably, I thought, they must all come together at one starting point. I followed them back, dodging a nurse pushing a young man in a wheelchair, a large boot on his foot. Neither of them payed me even a sliver of attention.

 “Ok, that’s a minute. Let’s shock her again.” It was the voice of the doctor working on me. “Clear” he said a moment later. I stopped walking as I wondered if I was about to be wrenched back into my body. “Still no change. Load her up with epi, bicarb and amiodarone.” I considered going back, but my lifeline hadn’t changed. I was close enough to see the name plate on the nearby doors, ‘Reception’. Seemed like a sensible place to look for my sister.

I passed through the door and immediately sidestepped out of the way of a porter. It was much busier in here. I retreated to an out of the way corner and looked around for Jane. I couldn’t see her anywhere and was beginning to wonder if she had abandoned me and gone back to work when I saw a high-vis jacket come around the corner. It was her partner. Dave. I remembered. He held two coffee cups, putting them on a counter before reaching for his radio. I crossed the room, weaving around nurses and patients, cringing when a small girl ran through me.

Dave was already mid conversation. “…anks for sorting it. I’ll tell her then I‘ll run the rig back to base.”

“How’s she doing?” A voice said from the radio.

Dave blew out a breath between clenched teeth. “Honestly, not good.” He seemed to stare across at a pair of doors across the room. Toilets. “I mean, it is her sister after all, how many of us would be alright after seeing someone we love in that …” I left him behind as I crossed the room and plunged through the wall into the ladies restroom.

Jane stood there, leaning over a sink. Her high-vis jacket lay on the floor at her feet. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the edges of the sink. She was murmuring to herself, enough to earn a sideways glance from another woman who quickly scurried out.

“…stupid. Stubborn. Why couldn’t you just listen to me. I begged you. ‘Don’t go after him.’ But you didn’t listen. You never listen.” As I stepped closer, I could see her aura. There was a bubbling of red, but it was mostly that sickly green. As the door swung shut behind the fleeing woman, Jane let out a great shuddering sob, and tears began to fall from her face. I reached out, but my hand passed through her shoulder.

I could still hear the distant sounds of the attempt to resuscitate me. A third shock delivered. “Back in asystole. Ok, hang another round of blood products and chase up the surgical consult, if we don’t get anything back in two minutes we open her up down here.” That sounded just delightful. I glanced down at my lifeline, but it didn’t look like it had diminished.

That’s when I noticed the traces of red in the sink. Blood. My blood. As if to distract herself, Jane washed out the bowl of the sink, tears still dripping as she took deep steadying breaths. I’d seen her do it before. Fighting to assert an iron control over herself. It had always driven me crazy, especially after what had happened to Mum and Dad. But then, something happened that I had never seen before.

She lost.

Her whole body was wracked with sobs as she sank to the ground against the wall. Her hands covered her face and she drew her knees up tightly. I didn’t know what to do. So I sat down beside her. For just a moment I passed into the wall, but I grabbed that moment of resistance, held it my mind for a few seconds, and suddenly the wall felt solid. I leaned back against it, looking at the ceiling.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” I whispered. As expected, she didn’t respond. She continued to sob, and I could see tears leaking out. I sighed. “It was him. If you can hear me at all, hear that. It was him. Patterson. I was right. He’s a murderer, and he tried to kill me. Just like he killed them.” I could feel the anger building. I turned to look at her, as she lowered her hand, her sobs easing. “It was never your fault Jane. It was always him. He had mum and dad killed.”  

[mojofun]

How to chat up pretty gals - A manual by Sherlock Holmes (Sherlock Holmes x Reader)

Hello there. This is for @summer-writes​​​; the prompt was “I’m not an assassin, but I want to take you out” “After that, I kinda wish you were”. It’s part of my small celebration for hitting 100 followers, which I’m still thrilled about; I met so many nice people here on Tumblr.

That being said, the request thing is still on if anyone wants to participate.

This story is fluff

(He’s making sure he looks good before his date with Y/N :3)

Enjoy :)

                                      _________________________________

<<So, what do we have here?>>

<<A man, found dead this morning by->>

<<Yes Anderson, thank you for your valuable contribution. I’ll see for myself now>> Sherlock dismissed the other man, pushing past him and walking toward the body on the bed. John did not even try to apologise for him: both he and Anderson himself knew it would be pointless, a mere pretence.

The detective crushed beside the corpse, pulling out his lens to examine the scene up close. His inseparable companion slowly approached to give the body a once over

<<Livid complexion, yellowish scleras, rigidity in the sims… All telltale signs of->>

<<Poisoning>> A female voice interrupted the army doctor.

Everyone in the room turned to look at the newcomer.

It was a young woman dressed in semi-formal clothes, a Tyvek sterile suit in her hand; she had H/L H/C hair, E/C eyes and S/C skin. The smirk on her lips alone told them she was sure of her deduction.

John agreed immediately

<<Precisely. And you are?>>

<<This is Y/N Y/S>> Lestrade answered for her while she donned the protective covering <<She is the district’s rookie, fresh out of college with a degree in Criminology>>

<<Nice to meet you>> John greeted. She gave a curt wave and immediately got down to business, squatting beside Sherlock to inspect the victim

<<Damn,>> John murmured <<she already behaves like Sherlock>>

It was Sherlock who was not behaving like Sherlock.

Much to the amazement of everybody else, he simply observed Y/N do what she had to, admiring her concentration and her no-nonsense attitude.

When she was done she stood up, dusting off her knees

<<Sherlock?>> Lestrade called <<Don’t you have anything to say?>>

<<Uh? Oh, yes, of course. John, did you notice anything unusual?>>

<<Well, from my first check I can say that the cause of death is snakebi->>

<<It’s not a snakebite>> Y/N interrupted with a monotone voice.

The curly detective glanced at her in a strange mix of amazement and pride: he was expecting her to correct John, but part of him didn’t think she would notice

<<What?>>

<<It is not a snakebite, Dr Watson. Your colleague did not allow you to look very close, but if you did you would have noticed the disposition of the two punctures.

The discolouration around the wounds is not very different, meaning the second one was inflicted almost immediately after the first>> The girl beckoned him closer, pointing at one of the small holes in the victim’s neck <<What do you see?>>

<<The one on the left is deeper, more scraped than the other>>

<<So?>>

<<It was made before>>

<<Precisely. The victim probably put up resistance, hence the greater damage.

I think we have to go through the list of people invited to the party, see if there is anyone whose profession or hobbies entail knowledge of snakes and poison. Speaking of which, where are the animals kept now?>>

<<You mean the victim’s collections of reptiles?>> Anderson asked

<<Obviously>> She huffed

<<They’re at the police station; Sherlock suggested they could be evidence>>

Y/N grinned, looking at the lanky man

<<Excellent. I’m going to pay them a visit now. See you later!>>

<<Wait, Y/N! Aren’t you going to tell us anything?>>

The woman smirked

<<Oh, I think Mr Holmes may have an inkling of what is going on. Bye!>>

That said she ran out of the building, leaving them all in awe.

Lestrade, like everybody else, turned to look at Sherlock, silently begging him for answers

<<The victim likely knew the assassin, or they wouldn’t have ended up in his room.

We have to examine the list of guests and staff from yesterday’s party, see if we find someone experienced with poisonous animals, as Y/N said>>

He had a hard time saying those words; he just couldn’t believe that someone could have reasoned brilliantly and rapidly enough to be at his same level

<<So… She was right?>> John questioned, half smug half incredulous

<<Yes, she was>>

It was the first time something like that happened to Sherlock, and he was incredibly fascinated by the most talented newbie in the Yard.

                                    _________________________________

Months passed.

The case was solved in a couple of days thanks to the combined brains of the Baker Street sleuth and Y/N. Sherlock and John found themselves crossing paths with her more and more often, but they were both far from displeased about it. The doctor was intrigued by her talent, like his roommate, but he also considerably enjoyed seeing her keeping Sherlock on his toes.

Much to the famed detective’s annoyance, he’d grown smitten with the H/C-officer: she had beauty, brains and a tongue sharp enough to cut him. On top of that, she was well-versed in many subjects, and she kept up with him spewing theories with no difficulty.

He was stumped.

He’d tried talking to her, even flirting -just the thought made him cringe- with her, but he had no idea what he was doing.

William Sherlock Scott Holmes, the clever detective in the funny hat, was reduced to a teenage boy with a major crush, and he hated it.

That was how he ended up hiding in the living room at three in the morning, praying that John wouldn’t catch him red-handed while he looked up some tips on how to “chat up pretty gals”, according to the page he was currently scrolling through.

The brunette had winced violently when he first read that title. Nevertheless, that was how he went about things: research. He was treating it like a case, and he wanted to be prepared when he met Y/N again for a new case- which, according to the clock, would be in less than four hours.

He would need coffee. The website said a nice gesture would help his case, so maybe he could get one for her, too.

He already knew how she liked it.

                                    _________________________________

<<It was the babysitter?>>

 <<Yes>>

 <<With a knife>>

<<Obviously>>

<<In the living room>>

<<What, are we playing Cluedo?>> Y/N cried out.

They had solved another case in a matter of hours, and he was now accompanying her to the police station to write the report

<<John never wants to play that game with me>> He mumbled

<<I can see why>> The girl snickered.

He couldn’t help but notice she looked adorable when she smiled.

Suddenly, he stopped walking

<<Sherlock?>>

Yes, they’d somehow gotten to a first-name basis, which was a huge success- as far as he knew

<<Y/N, I have to tell you something>>

<<What’s wrong? You are making me worry>>

<<Nothing is wrong, doll>>

The woman’s eyes widened

<<Doll?>>

<<Do you prefer darling? Honey? Babe?>>

<<B- Ba- Babe?!>> She sputtered.

The detective went on with his tirade

<<I did some research. According to the pages I visited, when you like a woman you need to call her “pet names”>>

<<When you- Like- P- Pet names!?>>

<<And use pickup lines>>

<<Pickup lines? What the->>

<<Yes, so I chose one. Y/N?>>

The poor girl was extremely puzzled, but she went along with it

<<Yes, Sherlock?>>

<<I’m not an assassin, but I want to take you out>>

For a few moments, all was silent.

Sherlock was anxiously awaiting her reaction, even a small sign.

Then, out of the blue, she began giggling; it soon turned into a belly laugh, with tears streaming from her eyes as she held her stomach

<<Oh- Oh my- Oh my gosh!>>

The brown-haired man stood beside her, patiently waiting for her to calm down; it took more than he expected, but he did not complain.

When her laughter finally dwindled and eventually stopped, she wiped her cheeks and looked at him, shaking her head in amusement

<<Oh, Sherlock… After that, I kinda wish you were>>

<<What? It wasn’t good?>>

He frowned. The girl moved closer to him, taking his hands in hers

<<Listen, you brilliant fool… You don’t need all that to impress me>>

<<I don’t?>>

<<Not at all. I’m already impressed by how smart you are, the way you solve cases>>

The man finally smiled, lightly squeezing her hands, but then he furrowed his brow again

<<Y/N?>>

<<Yes?>>

<<If that’s not the right way to “chat up pretty gals”->> They both cringed, and she barely suppressed a snort <<how should I do it?>>

Y/N blushed, but she did not lose her smile

<<Well, Mr Holmes… Bringing me coffee was a good move, and this… This was the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me, I have to admit, however cringe-worthy it may have been>>

Sherlock’s grin broadened

<<However, do you know what I would like even more?>>

<<What is it, doll?>>

<<Mh, doll… I could get used to that>>

Without warning, she grabbed the lapels of his inseparable coat and pulled him closer, cementing their lips together; Sherlock’s eyes widened, but he relaxed almost instantly and tightened his arms around her.

He found it surprisingly enjoyable, and she was not complaining so he assumed she did, too.

When they pulled away Y/N bit her lip, her cheeks even redder

<<Mh, doll… I could get used to that>> She giggled

<<I would love it if you did this more often>>

<<Far be it from me to deny a pretty dame her desire>>

<<Sherlock?>>

<<Yes, doll?>>

<<Stop with the dumb nicknames and kiss me again>>

<<Gladly>>

After another kiss, he gave her a wicked grin

<<Mh, it becomes more pleasant the more we do it>>

<<Then I suggest we keep experimenting>>

<<I second the motion>>

Their lips met again, and their arms wrapped around the other in a vice-like grip.

                                    _________________________________

A few feet away, sitting at a table outside a café, Lestrade slid a tenner toward John, who pocketed it smugly

<<It’s a pleasure to do business with you>>

<<Bloody hell, there’s three of them now>>