#i got asked today if i was feeling the bio clock for kids and laughed

[lingeringscars]

Having no desire for marriage or kids myself, I think my clock for these things gets pushed onto my silly little fictional characters

[sevlgi]

how it feels

requested: no

group: stray kids

pairing: hyunjin x gn!reader

genre: fluff, slight angst

contents: high school!au but there’s not much school involved, best friend!hyunjin, mutual pining, hyunjin’s a hopeless romantic

warnings: none

synopsis: comforting your best friend after a breakup usually doesn’t involve making him fall in love with you, but both of you just want to know what it feels like.

a/n: yes hello please enjoy this fic that i’m randomly dropping in the middle of my hiatus 🙃 i’ll hopefully be able to write a gg fic of some kind for y’all soon! the ending of this is so fucking lazy, sorry

word count: 5.3k

“Why, Y/N? Can’t she just tell me why?”

“I know,” you comfort, rubbing your best friend’s back as he sniffles with his knees up to his chest. It’s hard to see him in the darkness that’s brought by the blanket resting over the both of you like a tent, but in the glow of Hyunjin’s phone, you can see the tear tracks on his face. “I’m sorry, Jinnie.”

He pouts and scrubs yet another tear off his cheek, lamenting, “Why can’t I never fall in love with someone who loves me back? We’re only in high school, it shouldn’t be this complicated.”

Dabbing at his face with a tissue, you sigh, “I guess you have bad luck. Or bad judgement, could be both. There are plenty of people who are dying to love and appreciate you, you know, you’re the one who never spares them a glance.”

Hyunjin shakes his head. “No, those people only think I’m the long-haired guy from the dance team. They would treat me the same,” he frowns tearily. “I just want someone who likes me first.”

It always goes this way for him, you know-- you’ve seen it too many times, the stages of your best friend falling in love with someone who leads him on, enjoys his company for a while before dumping him and his expectations in the dirt. Maybe it’s the undeniable pressure to be the perfect partner that Hyunjin wants more than anything, or maybe he just always ends up liking assholes. But either way, it’s carnage for Hyunjin’s heart, and he never gets used to it no matter how many  times it happens.

He’s too sensitive and warm-hearted for his own good, so all he can do after the latest breakup is cry into his favorite pillow on a Tuesday night. If you weren’t so willing to immediately come to comfort him, Hyunjin would’ve been doing it alone, too, and he would’ve cried for far longer than he has.

“Who do I go to prom with now?” he questions sadly, breaking you from your recollections about the many times you’ve done this before.

Unfortunately, all his question does is make you laugh. “It’s a serious question!” Hyunjin protests, scowling at you.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” you say, still chuckling. “I mean, would it be so bad to go to prom with a friend? I’m sure Yeji- wait never mind, not Yeji… I’m sure someone would go with you for appearances’s sake. Or if you don’t mind, just ask Lix, he’s too nice to say no even if he wanted.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better,” he says, flopping back onto his bed. The clock by his bedside reads 2:33 am, and you can already feel your physics final cursing you. “I want to go with someone I feel something for, you know? It’s our prom, Y/N, I want to feel the prom-ness of promposals and picking out outfits and all that with someone I love.”

You shake your head and push his knee lightly. “Unfortunately, most people our age haven’t even been in love yet, so I doubt many people can help you feel it. But you know what I’m feeling right now?”

“Please don’t say pancakes,” Hyunjin groans, “I’m not waking my parents up to teach us how to use the stove again.”

Throwing a pillow at him, you roll your eyes, “I feel tired, dumbass. And we have finals tomorrow, so how about we invite our friends out to get boba afterwards so we can find you a prom date? You can complain all you like about how the three weeks before prom happens are too short to fall in love, yadda yadda.”

“Fine. But don’t mock me, my many feelings are perfectly valid,” your best friend warns you, and rolls over to turn the light off.

Seungmin frowns when Hyunjin finally shows up at the entrance of the school’s closest boba shop, looking slightly disheveled from dance practice. “Finally. You’re annoying, and late.”

“Jeongin’s later,” Hyunjin objects, plopping down in the spot next to you and accepting the drink you hold out to him. The amount of mango yogurt with boba he drinks is definitely unhealthy (and expensive), but he’ll only groan more about his breakup if you didn’t get it for him. “Why do you literally never complain about him?”

“Jeongin’s cute, and you aren’t.”

The long-haired boy scoffs and sips at his drink sulkily as Felix returns with his own order. “Oh, hey, Hyunjin. I didn’t see you arrive,” Felix smiles sunnily. “Jisung’s not coming today, by the way. Something about having to stay for detention.”

You raise your eyebrows at that new piece of information. “Really? For what?”

“Playing a song entitled ‘Fuck You Bitch’ in Bio, I believe.”

Seungmin snorts in laughter, sighing fondly, “Sounds like him. Anyway, I heard we’re here to solve the problem of Hwang Hyunjin’s prom date. Or… lack thereof?”

“You’re so mean,” your best friend groans. 

Ignoring him, you clasp your hands on the table and lean in conspiratorially. “I doubt any of you haven’t heard at this point, but he got dumped, for lack of a better word, and now, like the rest of us, Hyunjin has no prom date. But unlike us, he actually still wants one.”

“I’ll go with you,” Felix offers, still chewing on the straw in his mouth.

You elbow Hyunjin, who pushes you back before responding. “Thank you, Lixie, but like I explained to Y/N, I want to go with someone I’m in love with. I want to know how it feels, you know?”

“I don’t know,” Seungmin deadpans. At Hyunjin’s crestfallen expression, though, he says, “I mean, we can definitely try, but I feel like the rest of the people left in this school are either too young or not your type. And is 3 weeks really enough for you to be ‘in love again’?”

“Knowing me, maybe…? But I think I’d need to know the person already,” your best friend pouts.

Jeongin arrives then, conveniently missing most of the conversation before he squishes in on the end of the booth. “Well, you better not try to fall in love with me,” the youngest grins.

“I’d never pick you,” Hyunjin jabs back. “But out of the people I do know…”

“I volunteer,” you joke.

Your friends snicker, thankfully, but the boy sitting right next to you turns with a thoughtful expression on his face. “Actually…”

“I don’t like that expression,” Jeongin narrows his eyes.

“I think I could fall in love with Y/N in 3 weeks,” Hyunjin says nonchalantly, as if it’s nothing. He completely ignores all the shocked expressions around him.

In truth, as easy as Hyunjin falls in love, he’s also incredibly easy to fall for. You’d never admit it to him, but you have loved him before, with the kind of burning passion that he somehow has with every one of his relationships.

You’re over it, and you have been for a long time, but him saying that maybe he could love you so very easily makes it all come back up to the surface. “For real?” Felix questions.

“I mean, I don’t like you yet--” your heart falls (stupidly)-- “but I think I could.”

“So… what do you want me to do?” you ask.

Hyunjin smiles, so pure and beautiful that you wonder how his girlfriend just left him, and says, “I want you to help me figure out how it feels to really be in love.” He scrambles to interrupt Seungmin, whose mouth is opening. “It’s just three weeks before prom. We’ll just feel happy together, none of the other shit--”

“You are so cheesy,” Jeongin interjects. “And I think you’ve watched too many dramas. Did you pause to think how Y/N feels about your plan?”

You appreciate your younger friend’s considerateness, but the guilty expression on Hyunjin’s face prompts you to say, “I mean, I don’t think I could like you like that, so… sure. I’ll help you.”

“Really?” All three of your friends ask as they turn to you. 

“Yeah,” you shrug. “What, you fall in love with me in three weeks for prom, I don’t reciprocate, but we move on as friends? I think it’ll be fine.”

“It never works like that though,” Seungmin doubts. He isn’t as cynical as he seems, but in the presence of overly-optimistic Felix and Hyunjin, he and Jeongin always end up as the voice of reason. Usually, you’re with them, but this time, you’re the one enabling the idiocy of the new plan.

Hyunjin grins, “Then we’ll make it work like that.”

With the amount of time that passes before Hyunjin mentions his plot again, you almost forget about it. The first week is normal in a way that makes you nervous-- you hang out like normal, doing homework in the library with your friends as Minho harrasses Chan, eating lunch wherever you can find a spot. There isn’t really time to be alone, just the two of you, and you aren’t sure how Hyunjin is supposed to ‘fall in love’ with you if it’s just normal.

Of course, it doesn’t last long.

It takes a while for it to set in that when Hyunjin asks you to go watch a drive-through movie with him, it isn’t just so he can show off his brand-new car. It’s a date, and it’s stated painfully clearly in his text from the night before.

However, you don’t realize it until you’re literally getting into his car in front of your house.

“Wait. This is a date, isn’t it?”

Hyunjin chuckles nervously, looking over at you in the passenger seat, and you notice for the first time that he’s put on a bit of makeup, and his car doesn’t smell like Jisung’s hot cheetos for once. “I mean, yeah. I meant it when I said I wanted you to help, and I thought you did too? It doesn’t have to be one if you’re backing out, though, it’s totally fine.”

“I’m not backing out,” you shake your head. You really aren’t-- so far, nothing has happened that would make you want to back out yet, and no freshman-year feelings for your best friend have resurfaced just yet. “I just forgot. You know me.”

“Yeah, I know your goldfish brain,” Hyunjin teases, setting the car in motion. There’s lo-fi playing, and he’s a good driver, so you relax. “You forget everything.”

“I do not! You’re the one who has to be reminded of everyone’s birthday but mine,” you protest. If he wasn’t driving, you would shove him, and you remind him of that, to his dismay.

Hyunjin hums as soon as the two of you fall into comfortable silence, your foot tapping lightly to the music, and with the sun setting on the distant horizon, it’s so familiar. You try to interrupt the peace anyway. “So, what movie are we seeing?”

“10 Reasons I Hate You,” he answers. “It’s a classic, and you haven’t seen it.”

“And you love romcoms,” you finish.

He doesn’t protest, only sending you a small smile. You’re pulling into the theater already anyway, in one of the better rows to watch the movie as Hyunjin turns his radio on and starts fiddling with it. “There’s snacks in the backseat,” he offers, to no surprise.

They’re some of your favorites, though there are also the chips that he can’t live without. There’s a blanket, which drapes awkwardly over the cupholder between the two of you, and a bottle of juice that you place in his lap immediately. “You like watermelon juice more than I do.”

“Thanks,” he says quietly, almost surprised.

You scowl and poke him, allowed to now that you’re safely parked and waiting for the movie to begin. “Don’t act all shocked, we’ve been friends since orientation and I’ve spent more than half my paychecks getting this damn juice for you.”

“Mean,” Hyunjin protests, but he hands you your favorite soda from under his seat anyway. “And shut up, it’s starting.”

He seems to know the intro to the movie, smiling when the first line of dialogue sounds, all crackly over the shitty radio, and you eventually stop staring at him to watch the movie instead. Of course, you can’t keep yourself from asking, “Why do you like romcoms so much, anyway? You’ve never explained to me, for all the ones I’ve watched with you.”

“I like happy endings, I think,” the long-haired boy responds after a short pause to think. “Not to be dramatic, but I haven’t had one yet, so maybe watching other people being happy makes me happier too.”

You nod, taking it as a perfectly acceptable answer. Knowing how sentimental your best friend is, it’s nowhere near a stretch, either, being something that just fits with his personality.

He talks occasionally to tell you a little tidbit that he knows: by the end, you’ve learned about how it’s a modern adaptation of a rather misogynistic Shakespeare play, how the entire movie was shot without sets, and how the scene of Kat reading the poem was the first take. It’s interesting, of course, but you’re more captured by the way Hyunjin’s smile glints in the weak light filtered through the car windows.

The sky is dark when the credits roll and Hyunjin reaches for the steering wheel, almost too dark for you to see anything outside when you’re driving back to your house.

“So? How was it?”

“How was what?” you ask, moving your hands around vaguely. “The snacks? The movie? The date?”

“All of the above?” Hyunjin says hesitantly.

You answer immediately, “It was perfect. You knew that, though.”

“I didn’t really. I mean, I’ve never taken you on a date,” he muses. “And plenty of the people I’ve dated before weren’t even willing to watch a rom-com with me.”

“Then that’s their problem,” you say. “Anyone who isn’t willing to watch a rom-com with you is just an asshole, and I stand by that.”

Hyunjin smiles sweetly. You’re parked by the curb in front of your house at this point, so it’s slightly more easy to see the silhouette of your friend’s face. “That’s nice of you. I dunno though, I wouldn’t want to label everyone who doesn’t like romcoms as an asshole.”

“That’s not what I mean.” You shift a little bit to face him, pausing before you explain, “I think that if someone is so unwilling to try something that means so much to the person they like, then they don’t really like them.”

“I guess. You know, there’s another reason why I like romcoms so much.”

You don’t speak, waiting for Hyunjin to explain. And he does. “I think romcoms give me hope,” he nods. “Like… they make me think that anything’s possible, not just happy endings. Maybe the person who I don’t even have a chance with secretly likes me back, you know?”

“I can’t really imagine someone who wouldn’t like you if you liked them, but I think I get it,” you smile.

“At least you try. See you at school next week?”

“Come on, we both know that Binnie’s dragging all of us out to beat Chan’s ass at bowling,” you sigh, taking it as a sign to open your car door. 

Before you make it completely outside, though, Hyunjin’s hand rests on your wrist. “Y/N, thanks for tonight.”

“Anytime,” you respond breathlessly, closing the door a little louder than you probably should.

You do mean it.

“Remind me again why we have to go prom outfit shopping together?”

Hyunjin pouts, peering in the window of yet another shop. His arm rests gently on your shoulder despite the way you jokingly pushed it off at the beginning of the day, but you really don’t mind. “Isn’t it cute to have matching prom outfits? We should be color-coordinated in some way.”

“I mean, sure… but isn’t online shopping just easier?” you ask, raising your eyebrow. “It’s the 21st century, Jin.”

“You’re so unromantic,” he groans, and finally pushes the door open to a thrift store to lead you inside.

You wrinkle your nose at the heavy smell of perfume that hits you as soon as you step inside. “And you watch too many movies. You’ve known me for almost four years, you aren’t going to have some magical moment where you realize you like me just because I put on a sparkly outfit of some kind.”

“Who knows? Maybe you’ll suddenly think that you love me when you see me in a tux,” Hyunjin grins.

You don’t respond to that, and he doesn’t push it, taking it as just another joke of his. Of course he doesn’t know about freshman year, and he definitely doesn’t know about how you still aren’t sure if that crush ever subsided. He shouldn’t know. 

He’s too picky to pick something at the first store, you know, so you just follow him around as he flicks through things that are either too fitted or too loose, too patterned or too plain. 

It takes three stores for him to finally something that he likes, and he appears from the dressing room with a gorgeous grin on his face. “What do you think?”

“It’s… good. I mean, you look good,” you clarify. Of course Hyunjin looks perfect in anything, but the dark navy jacket over the patterned button-down he was already wearing just seem like they were a combo meant for him. 

He isn’t satisfied with your response, towering over you as you slump lower in the chair. “Just good?”

“Hot. Stunning, beautiful, sexy-- is that what you want to hear?” you respond sarcastically.

“That’s exactly it!”

Rolling your eyes, you pick up your things from the chair and say, “Then we’re done? Are you picking this one?”

“Yeah, but what about you?” Hyunjin asks. “Do you already have something, or are we going to get something? I’m still waiting for my kdrama moment, you know.”

You definitely don’t have something at home, but you don’t think you could bear being on the receiving end of the drama moment that your best friend so desperately wants. Something about having him suggest something for you to wear, reacting as dramatically as you know he will, just won’t allow your old feelings for him to sit still.

“I’m good. Let’s check out, and get some ice cream?” you offer to placate him.

Hyunjin grins and offers his arm to you again, practically skipping to the checkout. “Sounds perfect to me.”

“Y/N, what the hell do I wear on a date?”

“How should I know?” You sound listless, flicking through one of the mangas that one of Changbin’s friends left as his house.

“You literally went on a date with your freshman year crush last week and then picked a prom outfit with him,” your friend scowls, tossing a shirt at your face. It’s clean, thankfully, but you still chuck it back at him.

“In my defense, I forgot that it was a date,” you respond, “and shut up about the ‘freshman year crush’ thing. I never would’ve told you if I knew you would use it against me like this.”

Changbin throws yet another piece of clothing in your direction, narrowly missing your face, and you raise a pillow to threaten him with. “You got me into this mess with Felix in the first place, so I think it’s even.”

“It’s not a mess if it’s what you asked me to do,” you complain, “and besides, you wouldn’t stop talking about this date for the past week despite it literally just being something we do together all the time.”

“I like Felix, I don’t like you.”

“Then I’m leaving you to agonize over your collection of colorful track pants on your own,” you warn, and he subsequently shuts up. “There we go. Don’t wear one of those, by the way, even though Felix wouldn’t say a single thing about it.”

“How was the date, by the way? And the three-year-old feelings?” Changbin asks as he continues to dig in his closet.

You hesitate. “It was… nice? Hyunjin knows way too much about Julia Stiles, but he was super enthusiastic and the movie was pretty good. He got the good snacks, too.”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he sighs. 

“Then what did you mean, Mr. ‘I Love Lee Felix With My Whole Tiny Brain’?” you challenge.

Changbin doesn’t take the bait, unfortunately. “Jeongin told me about the whole plot you and Hyunjin have going on. Are you really dumb enough to think that you can get him to love you without falling for him again, and then leave him after it?”

There’s no way to respond to his question without making a complete fool out of yourself, and so, you simply don’t. Apparently in one of his more coherent moods, Changbin continues on, “I’d say that you watched too many movies, but I’ve seen you avoid Hyunjin’s movie nights. What the hell is going on with you?”

“I mean, have you seen the way he looks when he wants something?” you answer unintentionally. “Obviously you weren’t with us at the at the boba shop, but I’m serious. I couldn’t say no to him, especially when he’s heartbroken.”

“What does he look like?” Changbin asks.

You sigh, “He… his eyes get kind of shiny, almost like he’se about to cry but not really like that. And I don’t really know, he just looks like he’d be sad if you said no but wouldn’t talk about it, and that’s the part that makes you want to say ‘yes’.”

“It sounds to me like your three-year-long crush is still here, then,” your friend replies. “Because I have never felt that way about Hyunjin before, but I know what expression you’re talking about.”

Staring at him like he’s grown two heads, you realize that he’s wearing a jean jacket that shouldn’t have taken so much time to pick out. “That’s a stupid conclusion.”

Changbin shrugs and picks his phone up on his way out. “You can think about it as stupid if you want, but I’m usually not wrong about this. I’m going now, do you want a ride or something? You can stay here as long as you want, though.”

“I’ll walk home, it’s still noon,” you answer. You need to think, anyway.

He walks to the kitchen for a drink of water, he claims, but he picks up his phone on the way there, presumably to talk to Felix like the lovey-dovey fool he is. You wrinkle your noise and wander in the hallway, fully intending to bully Changbin about his crush as long as possible.

But his low voice, echoing from the kitchen, definitely doesn’t sound like flirting. When Changbin strides out, on a mission, it’s obvious that something is wrong. “We have to go,” he says. “Jeongin and Hyunjin got in an accident.”

Fear bubbles in your throat, and you yank the front door open harder than you could’ve thought possible. “What? How? When? Is it just the two of them? Are they okay?”

“Minho says that he doesn’t know yet, he’s driving there too. They aren’t calling the police, they’re apparently fine enough to get us,” Changbin says as he backs out of the driveway. “But we better get there as soon as we can.”

“Then drive,” you exhale sharply, slamming your seatbelt on as if it’ll stop your heart from beating out of your chest.

You leap out of the passenger’s side before the car even stops moving, finding Minho and Chan’s cars both parked at the side of the road behind the silver one that you remember to be Jeongin’s parents’. There’s a huddle of people there, Seungmin and Jisung parting so that you can make your way to the center.

To your relief, both your friends are okay; Hyunjin’s sitting on the trunk of the car, massaging his legs, and Jeongin’s definitely wincing a bit too much when he moves his neck. The car is dented, but not to the point of no repair.

Still, anger clouds your vision.

“What the hell’s wrong with the both of you?” you almost shout. “And what the fuck happened?”

Hyunjin starts, “Y/N, calm down. I was trying to teach Jeongin to drive, and we went a little off course--”

“Teaching him to drive, on the damn highway?” you question furiously. “You barely got your license three months ago, I get that you’re a good driver, but you aren’t a good enough driver for this! Whose idea was this?”

Jeongin timidly raises a hand, but Felix stops you from saying anything more. “Let’s all calm down, okay? Y/N, our friends are fine,” he says, low voice barely audible over the wind whipping around. “Everyone’s alive, which is the most important part here, and we can fix the car, which isn’t all that important. Let’s just focus on getting someone here to help, okay?”

“I’ve called my uncle to come and tow the car, we’re just going to get Hyunjin and Jeongin to the hospital, okay?” Seungmin reassures you. “Changbin’s car is too small, and you’re the better driver, so you and Hyunjin take it. Jeongin will come in Minho’s car with me, and we’ll meet you there.”

You nod stiffly and get into the driver’s seat first, pretending like you don’t notice how Chan pulls Hyunjin back to talk with him.

You shouldn’t have gotten angry; it doesn’t make sense to be angry at all. You should’ve been scared, worried, anything but angry, and so, you can only try to calm your breathing by the time Hyunjin sits next to you and Chan’s car sets off.

“Why are you so mad?” he asks quietly.

It’s the wrong thing to say; you turn your head to him, incredulous. “Why am I mad? You could have died, both of you could have died!”

“And? How many things have we all done together that could’ve ended with us in a ditch?” Hyunjin raises an eyebrow. “Hell, you were the one who decided that it would be fun to jump from the roof into Seungmin’s pool last summer, what’s changed? I get it, it was stupid, but you’ve never been so mad about something like this before.”

You exhale, tapping your fingers on Changbin’s steering wheel as you follow your friends’ cars. “To be honest, I don’t know.”

“Okay.”

It’s completely silent after that, at least until you reach the emergency room.

Jeongin and Hyunjin are fine, thankfully; the youngest has twisted a muscle in his neck, but it’s nothing that can’t heal on its own, and Hyunjin’s knees are merely bruised. Jisung’s the one who tells you, the older two of your friend group apparently dealing with the parents of the injured.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” he asks, patting your arm. “You reacted a little… adversely earlier. Did you and Hyunjin have a fight?”

“Why is it always about me and Hyunjin?” you ask with narrowed eyes. “Can’t I be mad because they almost got themselves killed?”

Jisung raises an eyebrow. “You never get mad when we almost get ourselves killed, that’s Chan’s job. And you were basically yelling straight at Hyunjin, I’ve never seen the guy so scared.”

You exhale and sit back in the creaky hospital chair. You wish you could tell Jisung if there was something wrong, but you honestly don’t know what it is. “I don’t know. Do you think there’s something wrong with me?”

“You tell me, dude,” Jisung chuckles. “I think you should think about it. I mean, there’s barely two weeks until prom now, you barely have time to back out anymore.”

“Why would I back out?” you stare at him.

He pushes you to stand, and only says, “Think about it yourself. Okay?”

You don’t tap out, but only because you don’t get Hyunjin alone enough to do so.

After your little yelling fest at him, he obviously doesn’t want to just talk to you, despite how you publicly apologize to both him and Jeongin. You don’t sit together during movie night, you sit at opposite corners of your study table in the library.

Until Felix’s parents invite all of you over to take prom pictures, all you get is a stilted silence.

“You look nice,” he mumbles when the two of you get ushered together in a pair. Except for Felix and Changbin, all the others are by themselves, and you wonder why Hyunjin was so hellbent to get himself a prom date when almost everyone else didn’t bother.

He himself looks absolutely perfect, his hair styled to perfection and a slight pink glittering on his lips. The suit that you picked out together is paired with a patterned shirt that you’ve never seen before, and it perfectly matches your own hastily-purchased outfit. Hyunjin offers a flower to you, color-coordinated, and you hold it in one hand with the other on his arm. “Thanks. You too.”

“Okay, smile, everyone!” Felix’s mom grins behind the camera. “Couples, stand closer together a little bit!”

With a (rather convenient) nudge from Minho, Hyunjin’s hand slips onto your waist, and heat rises to the tops of your ears. Felix’s mother is pleased, though, and the photos carry on with the occasional hoots of laughter when Jisung smacks a kiss onto Seungmin’s cheek and gets clocked as a result.

Conversation is never stilted when you’re with your friends, so despite the silence between Hyunjin and you, there’s no awkwardness during the ride there. Silence only falls when it’s just the two of you standing together in the corner of the venue, all the others off to dance or raid the buffet table.

You decide to speak first. “Are you pissed at me for yelling at you? Because I said I was sorry, and I am.”

“I’m not pissed at you,” Hyunjin shakes his head.

“Well, you’re sure acting like it,” you snap. With a sigh, you end up apologizing again, “Sorry. I just… I know that the plot was mostly a joke, just to take your mind off of the heartbreak and stuff. I kind of messed it up.”

“You messed it up?” He stares at you.

“Well, yeah… I yelled at you, didn’t I?”

Hyunjin sighs, almost like he expected a different answer. “No, that didn’t mess anything up. I mean, I got what I wanted, anyway.”

“And what was that?”

“I fell in love with you.”

It’s your turn to watch him, completely shellshocked. The sparkling, multicolored lights of the venue bounce off him like an otherworldly glow, and his eyes sparkle even though he’s avoiding your gaze. Maybe all the people falling at his feet, you included, are onto something. “I mean, it’s not exactly what I wanted,” he blabbers. “I wanted to be in love without it hurting, and obviously that failed, but… I should’ve known that it wouldn’t even take three weeks for me to love you.”

“Hyunjin.”

Your best friend still doesn’t look up, so you just ask softly, “Why does it hurt?”

“You don’t like me back, of course it hurts,” Hyunjin frowns. 

“Who said I didn’t like you back?”

He’s quiet, eyes flicking up to you like he thinks it’s Jisung pranking him or something. “Do you mean it?”

“We’re stupid, Hyunjin,” you laugh. “We’re so, so stupid. I had a crush on  you since we met, for two whole-ass years.”

“Well, I liked you for almost four, so I think I beat you there,” he says. But there’s a relieved smile on his face, his eyes curving prettily as he reaches for your hand. “Then… do you want to dance?”

“No romcom shenanigans,” you warn, but you allow yourself to be tugged out to the dance floor next to your friends with a smile.

Hyunjin’s grin as you twirl him around under the burning neon lights suddenly makes it seem like everything will just... magically be okay. If you had just been a little more courageous (or a little less stupid), maybe you could’ve seen it earlier.

But good things come with time and patience. And with all the patience you’ve had, waiting for this to happen, the way you finally feel with him makes it all worth it.

[tommyhollandaisesauce]

Let Me Do The Work [t.h.]

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Tom Holland x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 6.2k idk how 

Posted: 11/19/2020

Warnings: Fluff, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up kids), oral sex (f receiving), maybe too much plot? and definitely a whole lotta lazy sex sue me you’re welcome.

Summary: Tom thinks you deserve a reward after a hard few days at work.

A/N: uhhhh I mean I think I covered all the bases lol. I rly hope you guys like this I think I started it over a year ago and only recently had the motivation to finish and post it. This is basically my brain baby so please lmk how you guys liked it and if you would like to be added to my taglist there’s a google form linked in my bio. Enjoy horn dogs!!

When Tom got home on Wednesday night the last thing he expected his girlfriend to say was “Wanna have sex?” He had asked a few times before if you could and your response was usually something to the effect of “Sorry babe, another time, I’m just exhausted.” He knew your job was taxing and took a lot out of you and, frankly, Tom could survive the work week without getting any. He also knew that once Friday night rolled around it was all systems go; the weekend was yours to fool around as much as you wanted. And he was willing to wait.

Asking never hurt, though. Tom wasn’t annoying about it, at least he hoped he wasn’t. And for all the times you’d asked to have sex after he had a particularly exhausting day on set and he agreed, he didn’t feel super guilty about asking now and then.

It was unusual that Tom would be so exhausted from working that he didn't have any energy left to have sex. There had been some rare days when Tom could barely keep his eyes open even though you were right there, naked and sweaty, and riding his cock right on the living room couch. Your hands would be resting on his broad shoulders, your fingers digging into the muscles beneath his freckled skin as you bounced on his cock and his hands could barely stay put on your waist or hips to help you move. Sure, he liked watching you rise and fall on his lap and he liked seeing himself disappear inside of you and he liked the way your tits bounced with every movement and he liked watching your face. God, he loved your gorgeous face.

Your eyes would flutter open and closed the closer you got and you’d look at him with your big, beautiful eyes that were dark and lust blown and your jaw would go slack and you’d throw your head back in pleasure. Your movements would get sloppier as you’d start shaking and convulsing while you came. His arms would lazily wrap around your waist to pull you closer and you’d nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, breathing hard against his skin as you came down from your high. But Tom couldn’t find it in himself to even worry about his own orgasm, he just wanted to sleep.

So when he came home to your shared flat around 7 pm from walking Tessa on a particularly boring Wednesday, now that he had a break, and saw you lying on the couch with a glass of red wine in one hand and your other arm thrown over your eyes, he figured it was pointless to ask. You had gotten home sometime while he was out, didn’t bother changing out of your blouse and jeans just yet, popped a bottle open, and poured yourself a glass.

Tom unclipped the leash from Tessa’s collar, allowing her to run free around the flat. Immediately, she trotted over to you, nuzzling your legs with her nose until you caved and gave her a few scratches behind her ears. Tom slipped off his sneakers, padding over to you, causing Tessa to run off in search of her favorite toy. The couch sank under his weight as he sat down next to your head, your eyebrows raised at the shift.

“Hey, stranger,” you muttered, removing your arm from covering your half-lidded eyes. Your eyes sparkled in the dim living room lighting as you looked up at Tom. He couldn’t remember a single time they looked dull. Not during a fight, or when you were sad or tired or sick, never. They reminded him of stars. No matter what, they kept shining.

“Hi love,” Tom leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your wine-stained lips. The upside-down angle was slightly awkward, but you’d be lying if you said you two hadn’t done the Spider-Man Kiss before, per his request.

You smiled up at him as he pulled away and closed your eyes. Tom threaded his fingers through your messy locks and you relaxed, even more, leaning your head into his hand.

“Long day?” He asked, continuing to run his fingers through your hair.

“Don’t even get me started,” you huffed out, dramatically throwing your arm back over your eyes, which made Tom chuckle at your antics.

“Tell me what happened?” He asked lovingly, and as you lowered your arm you raised a single eyebrow at him.

“You sure?” You asked cautiously, “Because I wouldn’t wish the shit I dealt with today on my worst enemy.”

Tom scoffed, shrugging his shoulders, “Try me.”

You sighed before beginning your story. Today had been insufferable. From the minute you clocked in, to the minute you clocked out, it had been hell. One coworker in particular, with whom you were not super close or friends in any way, kept nagging you about your relationship like she did every single day.

The incessant questioning and probing was getting old and, quite frankly, rude. The questions started out harmless, like everyone else’s when they found out the Tom Holland was your boyfriend. Some asked for autographs or pictures and you declined, saying that if he ever came in Tom would be more than happy to do that. And Tom agreed; you playing messenger was weird and not the type of thing either of you wanted people to get accustomed to. And most people understood; except for one.

The more she asked the worse they got. Personal questions were the norm now. Questions about family members and life together and sex. God, the sex questions never ended. ‘Is it good?’ and ‘What are you guys into?’ were some of her favorites. Sometimes she’d get creative with them and switch them up. And every time, you refused to answer. And you relayed this information to Tom like you did most days, and he rolled his eyes in annoyance at her ignorance before leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead when he saw you were getting riled up.

You softened immediately and sighed. Tom had a calming effect on you. Just being around him was relaxing. After so long together he still could calm you down. And he was cheaper than your copay for therapy, so hey why not vent to him?

“Just forget about her for now, babe,” Tom sighed out, continuing to stroke your hair, “she’s not worth your energy.”

“You're right,” you exhaled, “I’m home, I got my wine, I got my boy, I can relax.”

“Exactly,” Tom said, laughing at your words. He didn’t feel the need to say anything else as you both relaxed, his fingers still threaded in your hair, until a few more minutes went by, your eyes opened, and you turned your head to make sure you were setting down your not yet empty glass on the coffee table.

A soft “hey” escaped Tom’s lips as he watched you use your arms to lean up and turn to face him. He would’ve spoken more but was cut off as your lips pressed to his, the kiss awkward since you had caught him as he was speaking. His lips were slightly chapped and he tasted like spearmint gum as you hovered over him and moved your lips against his.

Tom sighed into the kiss, bringing one hand up to cup your cheek. You clumsily clambered into Tom’s sweatpants clad lap to straddle him and his other hand sat high on your thigh. The kiss was slow and passionate, neither of you in a rush to go further just yet. You melted into the kiss as his tongue slid along your lower lip to ask for permission to enter. You parted your lips immediately, allowing Tom access. After a few moments of lazily making out like teenagers, you pulled away to catch your breath. You closed your eyes, leaning your forehead against Tom’s as you both panted, trying to catch your breath.

“Can we go to our room?” You mumbled, just loud enough for Tom to hear. Your voice was low, soft, and a little shaky from being so tired. His eyes opened at your words and his ears perked up. Tom pulled his head away from yours and your eyes returned to their half-open state.

“I thought you were tired?” He questioned teasingly, tucking some strands of hair behind both your ears and resting his hands on your cheeks. You reached up and wrapped your fingers around Tom’s wrists, smiling sweetly at him. He was sure his heart damn near melted in his chest at the sight of his sleepy girlfriend asking to have sex with him.

“I am,” you said softly, smirking as Tom ran his hands down your sides and settled over your hips, “why do you think I wanna go to our room?” You joked, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck and ducking your head down to place soft kisses along the side of it. He sighed, tilting his head in the opposite direction to give you more room as your fingers carded through the short, soft curls at the back of his head.

“You sure?” Tom asked breathily, as you continued laying kisses across his jaw and below his ear, “Because I don’t want you to do it just because I want to-“

“Tom,” you huffed, pulling away from his neck, your hands migrating to rest on his shoulders. He straightened up and opened his eyes as the feeling of your soft lips disappeared from his neck. “I’m sure. Now shut up and take me to the bedroom.”

He smiled up at you as he snaked one of his large hands around your waist and the other under one of your legs before shakily standing up. You yelped at the jerky, clumsy action and wrapped your arms tighter around Tom’s neck and your legs around his waist. Tessa jumped up from her bed where she had been lying from the sudden movement as Tom carried you down the hall to where your bedroom was, the door ajar. You giggled as he almost smacked both of you into the door frame and nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck. Tom kicked the door gently to push it open before entering the room, turning around, and kicking it closed again. Tessa scratched at the door for a few seconds before giving up and trotting off back to her bed.

The room was cool and dimly lit by two bedside lamps and the computer monitor on the desk, which had yet to go dark and was emitting a hazy, red-orange glow on everything in the room. The window was cracked open to allow some fresh air in and the sheer, white curtains fluttered every so often due to a random gust of wind.

The room still smelled like Tom though. Sure the scent of your lavender body wash and coconut and vanilla hair products and the eucalyptus candle you occasionally burned was lingering, but it was predominantly Tom scented. It was a clean and fresh smell, not shoe polish or sandalwood or, god forbid AXE. It was a perfect balance of pine and rain and laundry detergent. God, if you could bathe in Tom’s smell you would. It was intoxicating. And having the direct source of the smell pressed against you did little to quell the ache that had appeared between your thighs.

However, Tom never closed doors behind him. The door to the walk-in closet you and Tom shared was halfway open, as was the bathroom door. He always left them just open enough where he could get in and out without having to touch the door. You had no clue when the habit had started. It was only mildly annoying, one of those things you find out about a person only after you start living with them, and you always went and closed them after him. As much as you reminded him to close them, and as much as he promised he would, he never did. Tonight, however, was an exception. One, you were far too tired to do so, and two, there were far more pressing matters at hand than some open doors.

When Tom walked over to the bed until his knees hit the edge and he gently laid you down on top of the soft covers, all thoughts of open doors were immediately forgotten. You relaxed instantly into the comforter, one of your legs propped up and bent at the knee, your arms up by your sides, with one hand absentmindedly scratching at your shoulder. Tom settled his hands at your ankles, rubbing soft circles into the exposed skin with his thumbs as his eyes raked over your body.

You took this time to admire Tom. There aren't enough words in the English language to describe how gorgeous Tom Holland is, even in sweats and an old t-shirt. Everything about him made you crave him more. His loose curls and warm brown eyes and soft smile and broad shoulders and, god, everything about this man drove you wild. You knew that what was hiding under his tight, white t-shirt and grey sweats was worth the many minutes — maybe hours — of sleep you’d lose tonight.

“God, I love you so much,” Tom broke the silence, as he crawled up your body to rest directly on top of you, between your parted legs. His hand trailed up your legs and sides before it settled on your waist and the other on your cheek. Your own hands snaked around his neck, and you pulled him down for a kiss, both of you closing your eyes as your lips collided, melting into one another. Tom quickly picked up right where you left off on the couch, swiping his tongue against your lower lip. Just as quickly, you opened your mouth and his tongue slipped inside, running against your own. Tom wrapped one arm tightly around your waist and with his other arm, he picked you up and pulled both of you higher up on the bed, gently placing you back down amongst the soft pillows.

“Now,” Tom spoke into the kiss after a few moments, “let’s get you outta these jeans.”

“What?” You mumbled against his lips, feigning offense, as his nimble fingers popped open the button on your dark grey, straight leg jeans and pulled down the zipper, “You don’t like my jeans?”

“No, I love your jeans,” he responded, still kissing you, “but right now they’re in the way.”

At that, Tom stuck his fingers through the belt loops on either side of your hips and broke away from the kiss, sitting back on his legs and pulling the denim down your legs. Once you were free of your jeans, he repositioned himself above you and attached his lips to your neck, just as you had done to him earlier. His fingers reached for the buttons on your blouse and clumsily began to undo them. Your hands were in his hair as he left open mouth kisses along your neck and jaw, occasionally biting down a little before running his tongue over the spot to soothe the skin. You could already tell there’d be some dark marks on your neck Tomorrow, but at this point, you didn’t care. You’d just wear a turtleneck the next day.

Eventually, Tom was able to undo all the buttons on your blouse. He pushed the creamy white satin down your shoulders and arms, tossing it somewhere in the room, his lips never leaving your skin. You were now only in your underwear, the chill from the cool air seeping in from the window causing goosebumps to form across your body. Soft, quiet moans escaped from your lips as Tom continued his attack on your newly exposed collarbones and chest. One of his hands came up to massage your breast through the light blue, lace bra you were wearing as he left sloppy kisses over your chest, and you could tell that you were completely soaked watching him do this. He looked up at you from between your breasts, one hand still resting on top of your left one, a cheeky smirk gracing his thin lips at the noises you were emitting.

“I like this color,” Tom said, his voice low and husky but he was grinning. As he spoke, he snapped the band of the bra against your ribs, the sting causing you to flinch a little, “it suits you.”

“Then you’ll be pleased to know that I’m matching today,” you whispered, still heaving slightly. Tom furrowed his eyebrows as he looked down and sure enough, you were wearing matching lace bottoms, not entirely unintentionally. Beaming up at you, Tom traveled down your body, his fingers grazing gently over your skin and his hot breath tickling you as his lips left soft kisses across your stomach, sparks dancing across your flesh in their wake. Slowly, he settled between your legs, your thighs thrown over his shoulders with your feet planted on the mattress on either side of his torso. His own hands were on your hips, holding you down against the bed. He pressed a few gentle kisses on your inner thighs as he began pulling the sides of your underwear down your hips.

Raising your butt off the mattress to help, Tom was able to carefully pull the delicate lace completely off your legs. There had been one prior occasion where he had tugged at your underwear just a little too hard and ripped the fragile material and you had not been too pleased with him after that. From then on, regardless of the nature of the activity, he was very careful in removing your underwear.

Once your underwear had been discarded, he resumed his place between your thighs, his hands finding yours and resting on your stomach just above your hips. Tom continued laying gentle kisses on your hips and inner thighs, everywhere but where you needed him most, each one followed by a soft exhale from you. After a few moments of teasing, he pressed a soft kiss directly on your clit, before licking a long stripe up between your folds. Your breathing hitched as Tom started working on your clit, alternating between gently pulling and sucking at it and circling it with his tongue. It didn’t take long before your back was arching off the bed and your legs began squirming around his head, the familiar knot forming in your lower stomach. Soft pants fell from your lips as Tom pulled away for a second to breathe, eyes fanning over your body, before diving back in, your hands squeezing his own as he reconnected with your pussy. Soon after, your legs began to shake and you bucked your hips upwards, Tom following your movements. As he continued applying firm pressure to your clit, you felt the knot snap, your toes curling and your head falling back into the pillows as you came. White-hot pressure flowed through your body as you rode out your orgasm, a string of soft moans and curses filling the room.

Tom’s tongue rolled lazily around your clit as you exhaled heavily, your body jolting forward and  sharp gasp leaving your throat when he lightly pulled on it with his lips. You felt another shock roll through your body as he continued massaging your clit. He slipped his right hand out of your grip, the other laying flat against your lower abdomen, holding you down as you bucked your hips again. He lifted his head, making direct eye contact with you. His stunning brown eyes beamed up at you through his long eyelashes, clouded over with lust and reflecting the faint light of the lamps on either side of the bed. His breath fanned over your heat, sending chills down your legs.

He was giving you a break. Just because you were tired did not mean Tom was, and after a few days with no action, he was ready to show you just how desperate he was for some.

“More,” you begged, pushing some damp curls that had fallen away from his forehead back. His free hand lowered to between your legs, his touch feather-light as he ran his index finger through your folds, soaked with your own arousal as well as his saliva.

“More?” he questioned teasingly, moving his finger in a figure-eight motion around your clit and your opening, dipping in just for a second before retreating. You nodded quickly to answer him, not trusting yourself to use your voice. “Use your words, baby.”

“Yes,” you choked out as he circled your clit, “please, more.”

“Thought you were tired?” Without even looking at him, you knew he was smirking. You could hear it in his voice. You exhaled in annoyance, groaning quietly as he continued to torment you. He chuckled at your reaction, finally giving in and placing his lips back on your core, as well as slipping a single finger inside, and very soon after, a second. You inhaled sharply at the new feeling, hands darting down to run your fingers through his soft hair, tugging at the curls as if you could control him like a puppet. Either that or he just knew exactly what you wanted, circling and pulling on your sensitive clit while simultaneously pumping his fingers inside you, curling them up ever so slightly to graze your g-spot.

Reaching your second orgasm took mere minutes, leaving you spent and panting harder than after the first. You knew that unless you pulled him away, he’d continue his assault on you. Breathing heavily with parted lips, you tugged harder than before on his hair until his lips left your body with a quiet pop, his own breathing heavy as well. You pushed your fingers through the dark curls that had fallen over his forehead again, attempting to smooth them down. Fortunately or unfortunately, you weren’t sure, but they refused to settle, instead sticking up in odd angles from your constant tugging. Either way, he looked beautiful, all messy hair and lust-filled eyes. Glancing down at him, his glistening lips pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, and another, and another, working up your body until he was eye level with you. His hand settled on your ribcage and yours on the back of his neck as he kissed you roughly on the lips, teeth clashing together, letting you taste yourself.

Tom hovered over you as your lips danced with his for a few minutes, rough and passionate, his large hands grasping at and exposed skin he could find, which was quite difficult considering you were still wearing a bra. His arms coiled around you to get to the clasp, forcing you to wind your arms tighter around his neck and arch your back to create enough room for his arms to pass under you. You could feel him tug at the clasp with one hand, unable to undo it, too distracted by your teeth grazing his bottom lip to adequately focus on the task at hand, which was to get you fully naked.

He just wanted to see you, why was this so fucking difficult?

“Tom, just let me-” you began to say, but Tom quickly cut you off with a firm “no” before fully sitting back on his heels, still leaning over you. His other hand now joined the first in trying to unclip your bra. Propping yourself up on your elbows, your head rolled back, an exaggerated sigh leaving your mouth. You weren’t sure why he insisted on always taking off your bra for you, but boy did he need the practice. As many times as he has tried and you demonstrated, it always took him a few moments, his fingers fumbling with the delicate clasp.

“Oh, for fucks sake-” you snapped, giving up and scooching up to sit up straight, Toms hands falling from behind you and settling in your knees. You didn’t have time for this tonight. His back straightened as he sat up to watch you work your magic, the outline of his thick cock on display under his grey sweatpants catching your attention, all but making you drool. You reached your hands behind you, swiftly undoing the clasp and beginning to tug the delicate straps down your shoulders.

“I almost had it,” you laughed as Tom attempted to salvage what was left of his ego, causing him to pout at you. Why was he so darn cute?

“Maybe on a day when I’m not as tired,” you said, fully pulling the bra from your body, “you can finally get it right, but right now we’re on borrowed time. Head can only boost my energy for so long.”

Tom rolled his eyes briefly before redirecting them to your chest, his hands traveling up from your knees to your shoulders to push you back onto the bed. He resumed his position above you, still fully clothed while you lay under him, completely exposed. His legs settled on either side of one of your thighs, his cock pressing firmly into your leg, straining against his pants. Another wave of chills, which Tom noticed, ran down your body as a gust of wind blew into the room, the cold causing your nipples to harden immediately.

“You cold?” he smirked, bringing a hand up to pinch your left nipple, rolling the bud teasingly between his thumb and index finger. You squinted your eyes at him, which caused him to chuckle.

“Yes, actually-” before you could finish, Toms’s fingers stilled and he gestured over to the open window, his head turning to follow his hand, asking if he should close it. Cupping his cheeks between your hands and turning his face back to you, you exclaimed, “No, oh my god, just fuck me already!”

The look of surprise on Tom’s face at your outburst was that of pure shock, as he very evidently did not expect you to be so desperate. Alternatively, the look on your face was one of slight annoyance as well as desperation and it set Tom into a frenzy. Your eyes were stars again; deep and dark and gleaming with desire. He swore he could see every constellation, every supernova, every inch of the cosmos in your beautiful eyes. After a moment, he whispered, “As you wish,” before leaning down to capture your lips in a softer, slower kiss.

Tom relished this moment. He was with you, the most important, precious person in his life and he got to see you like this. Which reminded him: he was still clothed. You seemed to have had a similar thought, as he felt your delicate fingers graze the sides of his torso as you searched for the hem of his shirt. Finding it, you started pulling it up, allowing Tom to break away from the kiss to pull the t-shirt over his head and chuck it somewhere into the room before reconnecting his lips with yours.

You raked your nails down his pecs as he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue past your lips. The sensation caused Tom to exhale into the kiss, eliciting a giggle from you. He broke away from your lips, ghosting over your jaw before settling on your neck in a spot he had yet to leave a mark on. You traced your hands down his muscular chest and over the prominent grooves of his abs, settling on his waistband and undoing the loose bow he’d tied. Pushing his sweats and boxers down at the same time, he kicked them off, letting them fall over the foot of the bed and land on the ground with a soft thud. His cock audibly slapped against his lower abdomen, the head red and already leaking precum. Reaching down with one hand, you wrapped your fingers around his length, spreading the sticky fluid around his sensitive tip with your thumb causing him to rut into your hand. You pumped your hand a few times slowly, using your fingers to press against that one extra sensitive spot right under the head, making Tom gasp against your neck.

You could feel Tom’s hands reach down to push your legs open for him to settle between them, the tip of his dick mere inches from your entrance. He was now out of reach, and he hissed softly at the loss of contact between your hand and his very erect cock. His arms rested on the bed on either side of your head, hot breath fanning over your face. His eyes were half-open and glossy as he looked down at you, writhing under him, waiting for him to fill you.

“Ready?” he whispered against your lips. Since day one, Tom always asked for explicit consent before, always making sure that you were comfortable. You loved it. It was never a mood killer, in fact, it made the whole interaction that much more intimate.

“Yeah,” you whispered breathlessly as you gazed up at him, nodding slightly. You tilted your head up to catch his lips in another kiss, full of passion and desire and love. God, you loved this man so much it would surely be the death of you.

After a few moments, he pulled back, looking you directly in the eyes and whispering a quiet “okay”, one of his hands moving down to hold his dick, running the tip through your soaked folds, grazing your clit, and causing you to jump at the unexpected feeling. Guiding himself in, he slowly slid into your drenched core until his hips were flush with the backs of your thighs. Tom’s eyes fluttered shut, and his eyebrows furrowing as a exhale of pleasure left his lips at the feeling of your walls tightening around him. “Fuck...” He grunted through clenched teeth.

He waited like that, buried inside your tight pussy, letting you adjust to the feeling of his cock inside you. And he’d wait like that until you would tell him to move. While he waited his lips ran over your neck and shoulder, leaving soft, loving kisses in their wake. After a few moments, you tugged on his messy hair, signaling him to look up at you. “Move,” you pleaded quietly before he pressed his lips to yours and adjusted himself to begin moving. Your eyes fell closed as he pulled his hips back slowly, until he was almost out, then snapped them forward in one fluid motion, causing you to yelp. He eased into a steady rhythm, rocking his hips, hitting that one spot deep inside you that made you yelp every time the tip of his dick hit it.

“Y/n/n, open your eyes.” He whispered sweetly against your skin as he left soft kisses on your cheek and jawline. You complied, letting your eyes slowly flutter open and look up at the ceiling, Tom soon emerging from the crook of your neck to meet your gaze, smiling. You took this opportunity to admire him as he hovered above you. His short hair was a sweaty, tousled mess, sticking up in odd directions from your fingers tugging at it earlier. His thin, pink lips were now swollen and darker from your fervent kisses. His freckled cheeks were flushed a deep pink. His dark brown eyes made you melt, looking down at you in a way that made you forget about everything else going on in the world. It was just the two of you, in the home you shared, making love.

You snaked your arms around Tom’s toned body, your nails leaving crescent-shaped indents on his shoulder blades, pulling him as close as you could get him as his thrusts sped up, becoming sloppier. His hand slipped between your bodies and rubbed rapid circles around your already overly sensitive clit. Gasps and moans fell from both of your lips. You could feel the familiar knot already tightening in your abdomen as his thrusts became more erratic. He knew you were close, your walls clenching around him as he relentlessly pounded into you, chasing his own high to catch up to you.

“Tom- Tommy I’m close.” Your words were music to his ears, he knew he wouldn’t be able to last much longer. He dropped his head back into the crook of your neck, littering your skin with kisses to muffle the loud moans that threatened to spill from his throat that he knew would certainly annoy the neighbors. One of your hands traveled up the base of his neck into his hair, closing your finger in his curls, pulling on them gently the way you knew drove him crazy.

“I know,” he panted against your neck, “me too.” His fingers never stilled, continuing to rub fast, tight circles against your clit until you crashed over the edge, the knot in your stomach snapping for the third time that night, pleasure-filled spasms racking your body, and loud moans spilling from your lips. A few more rough thrusts and the muscles in his shoulders tensed, his body lurching against yours as he came, releasing inside you. His lips found yours as you both tumbled over the precipice in unison, one of his arms wrapping around your waist and snaking up your back, his hand settling between your shoulder blades. He held you up like that, your back slightly arched and your breasts pressed against his chest as he continued to sporadically buck up inside you, riding out both your highs until he couldn’t support his weight anymore and he collapsed on top of you, still inside you.

You pulled him close, wrapping your arms around his neck as he gently placed his forehead against yours, both of you panting as if you had just run a marathon. You both stay like that for a few moments, chests meeting with every inhale, breathing the same air. Groggily, your eyes open only to find Tom already looking at you, his dark chocolate eyes soft and a small smile gracing his lips as he admired you in your post-orgasm bliss. Your cheeks were flushed, dark eyes hidden behind half-closed lids, and lips a deep pink and kiss-swollen.

"What?" You asked, placing your hand on the side of his face, stroking his cheekbone delicately with your thumb. He leaned deeper into your touch, relishing in the feeling of your soft hand caressing his face.

"Nothing," he muttered, "You're just amazing."

"Amazing in bed?" You asked sarcastically, a cheeky grin spreading across your lips, "Thanks, I try."

"No-" he starts, before seeing the bewildered look on your face and correcting himself, "well, yes, you are, but I meant in general. I love you so much Y/n, I don't know what I'd do without you."

You looked up at him in surprise. Moments of vulnerability like this were not uncommon between the two of you. You both frequently told the other how much they meant to you, how you couldn’t imagine life without the other person. And yes, this did usually occur right after sex, when both your emotions and hormones were at a high. No matter how many times he said things like this you could never get used to the sound of his voice saying those words to you.

“How did I get so lucky?” You wondered aloud, continuing to run your thumb over his cheek.

“Dunno,” he said cheekily, shrugging his shoulders, “good karma?”

Your melodic laugh filled his ears, your eyes closing as you giggled at his stupid joke. He leaned down to kiss you, cutting off your laughing. Your arms wound around his neck again as he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue past your lips, making you groan. After a moment he pulled back, placing a kiss on your cheek and gently pulling out of you, flopping onto the bed next to you. He pulled you into his side, holding you in his arms. You nuzzled your head against his chest, his heart still beating rapidly under your hand. You two laid like that for several minutes, sweaty and warm, stuck to one another.

Your eyelids began getting heavy and you almost slipped off into a deep sleep before Tom shifted under you, gently rolling you off him and getting up to go to the bathroom. You could hear water running for a few seconds before shutting off and Tom emerged from the doorway holding a washcloth. He sat down on the edge of the bed and used the warm towel to clean up the mess between your legs before setting it down on the bedside table. He leaned down, kissed your forehead, and mumbled something against your temple. "Wanna go again?"

Your eyes shot open. He flashed you a crooked smile, raising his one messy eyebrow suggestively. Is he serious?

“Tom, I’m so tired-” you started, but he cut you off with a peck on the lips, short and sweet.

“That’s not what I asked love,” his voice was lower, seductive, as he maneuvered to hover over you again, his head dipping into the crook of your neck to lay more kisses down on your already heavily marked skin. He is serious, oh my god.

You hesitated for a moment before caving in, “Yeah…” you trailed off as he nipped at your collarbone, “but I have no energy anymore.”

“That’s alright darling,” he whispered into your ear, sending chills down your spine at the pet name that he knew would drive you crazy, “you just relax and let me do all the work.”

-

A/N: The amount of times Grammarly told me I had errors when I was writing this when I didn’t was ridiculous oml lol but hey it’s done!! I’m really proud of it obviously I will keep writing and will get better, but hey my first fic and I don’t hate it. anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this, requests are open right now so if you would like a short lil blurb feel free to send me something! 

Tags: @hollandprkr​ @itstaskeen​

[inkedstarlight]

Bittersweet: Chapter Nine

Summary: Cassian and Nesta finally meet. Officially, this time. Let the romance commence. Notes: Read it here on AO3! Warnings: very brief/non-explicit mention of sexual assault Bittersweet Masterlist

“Earth to Nesta?”

Nesta snapped from her trance to see Emerie waving a hand in front of her face.

“You’ve been cleaning the same spot for a good ten minutes,” Emerie gestured to where Nesta was scrubbing the counter with a towel. It was squeaky clean.

Nesta let go of the towel and cleared her throat. “My bad.”

Emerie pulled out the chair on the other side of the counter and sat down. It was eleven in the evening on a Monday, and they had just closed. The only other person in Rita’s was Lucien, and he was doing dishes in the back.

“You’ve been acting weird for the past two weeks,” Emerie stated blatantly. Her stare was unwavering. “And you’ve lost at least ten pounds.”

The incidence with Tomas happened two weeks ago. Nesta was doing a pretty good job of moving on with her life all things considered. She felt like shit, but she hadn’t missed a single shift at work. That had to count for something.

But she should’ve known Emerie would notice. She was like a fucking hawk, that girl. She saw everything.

When Nesta didn’t say anything, Emerie shrugged and got up from the stool. “At least try a little harder,” she said, referring to the coworkers’ challenge to get the most tips. She shot Nesta a sad look. “Thesan is beating you. Thesan.”

Nesta mustered a laugh. Thesan wasn’t great with customers, that was common knowledge. Neither Emerie nor Nesta were people persons, but they knew how to turn it on for customers. Thesan, on the other hand, didn’t make much of an effort. It wasn’t that he was intentionally rude, the guy was just quiet in nature. In fact, he was quite a sweetheart.

Which was why it was quite entertaining to watch Thesan and Helion interact. Where Thesan was an introvert, Helion was loud as hell. Not to mention it was clear that Thesan was crushing on him. But unfortunately, Helion flirted with every living, breathing thing and was thus completely oblivious. During Nesta’s first week at Rita’s, Emerie had spilled all the tea about their coworkers. Thesan was head over heels in love with Helion, Helion had never been in a monogamous relationship, and Viviane… well, Viviane had her own little love story. A complicated one at that.

His name was Kallias. They grew up together, from scheming little kids to rebellious teenagers to young adults. Best friends since they could remember.

Because Emerie grew up in the same small town as them, she knew everything. They all went to school together. She knew that Kallias had been in love with Viviane since freshman year of high school. She knew that Viviane felt the same way, but she would never admit it thanks to the hell she was put through during her childhood. Nesta didn’t know the specifics, and she never asked.

It also didn’t help that Viviane was in a relationship with someone else. They’d been together for almost two years. Emerie thought Viviane deserved better, that he wasn’t a very good person.

Anyway, Kallias visited Rita’s nearly every weekend after his shift at the fire station to grab a drink and more importantly, see Viviane.

Nesta thought it was ridiculous. She’d told Emerie as much when she’d brought Nesta up to date on their coworkers’ lives. Why wouldn’t they just admit they loved each other and get on with it already? It was pretty fucking simple; they were just making it complicated for themselves. Emerie wholeheartedly agreed and the pair then went on an hour long rant on the idiocy of romantic relationships.

And if she was being honest, Nesta didn’t care much about these people. Sure, they were respectable but they were a temporary fixture in her life. Once she secured a job in her career field, she was going to leave them all behind.

“We should get a drink sometime. Outside of work,” Emerie clarified with a look of disgust. “I’m sick of it here.”

Nesta knew that was a lie based on the relationship Emerie had with Rita and her wife. But she didn’t say that.

“Maybe,” Nesta responded distractedly, desperate to think of an excuse. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Emerie; no, Nesta liked her coworker. She just couldn’t muster the energy to go out with friends or socialize like that. “I’m pretty busy right now though.”

Emerie narrowed her eyes and scrutinized her.

“Stop analyzing me.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

Emerie sighed and receded. She hesitated before saying quietly, “Is… is this the part when I ask if you’re okay and we get all deep and explore a new level of our friendship?”

Nesta slowly met her friend’s gaze. They stared at one another for several moments.

Then, they burst out laughing.

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

The next morning, Nesta was brewing her third cup of coffee when Elain padded into the kitchen.

“Good morning,” Elain yawned as a greeting. She wore bunny slippers and an oversized hoodie. Elain only had one evening class on Tuesdays, so today was her only day - save for the weekend - to sleep in.

“Hey, kiddo.”

“How long have you been up?”

Nesta glanced at the clock. It was nine-thirty. She’d woken up at six after a sleepless night of tossing and turning.

But she simply shrugged instead. “Not long.”

Nesta poured the coffee into her mug, sitting back down at the counter. She watched as Elain bustled around the kitchen, scrambling eggs and slicing fruit. The morning light spilled through the dusty kitchen sink window, bars of sunshine reflecting off the tiled floors. Iroh basked in the sunspots, his black fur glistening as his chartreuse eyes blinked closed.

Elain and Nesta hadn’t spent much time together in the past couple weeks. It was Nesta’s doing, of course. She was actively avoiding her sister and everyone else. After Elain had tried to talk to Nesta after the whole thing with Tomas, she stopped asking Nesta if she was okay. Nesta assumed that Elain realized she wasn’t going to get an answer, that there wasn't really a point in trying.

But Gods, Nesta fucking missed her. And even though she wanted nothing more than to retreat to her bedroom as she sat there in the kitchen, she didn’t move from the chair.

You need them as much as they need you, her father’s voice echoed in her head.

Guilt stabbed at her chest.

“How’re classes going?” Nesta asked quietly. Elain looked at her over her shoulder with a surprised yet pleasant smile.

“Great! I’m so grateful to be at such a great college, but…” Elain bit her lip, hesitating. “My bio lab is going to be the death of me."

“You know you’re allowed to complain, right?”

Elain just gave her a smile. “Yeah, I know. It's just, considering where I was a year ago, I couldn't be happier to finally be enrolled in such a prestigious program. Even if that means the classes are brutal."

I wish I was like you. I take everything for granted.

“And have you made any friends?”

Elain had started school at Pryth U months ago and yet Nesta had no idea if she even had friends yet.

Selfish bitch.

A fond smile broke out on Elain’s face. “Yes, I have this really great group of friends: Lucien, Ressina, and Varian. It's just the four of us, but we've gotten really close.”

Nesta asked Elain more questions before excusing herself back to her room, claiming she was going to try to write today, to which Elain squealed and wished her luck.

Nesta hadn't written since their dad died. Prior to his death, she would write nearly every day. She'd been working on a novel for years. The plot had came to her in middle school, and it just grew from there. She'd never told anyone about it. Everyone knows how fucking hard it is to get your writing published, much less get high ratings. Nesta wasn't even sure if she was going to finish it. This was the longest she'd gone without writing or editing it. And she had a feeling that she wouldn't ever go back to it.

Dread filled her stomach as she thought of that prospect. What the fuck was she doing with her life?

Nesta’s phone buzzed, and she fished it out of her back pocket.

 Incoming call from Feyre Archeron.

It kept buzzing, Nesta merely stared at her sister's name on her screen. She couldn't think of a single reason why Feyre would be calling. But she pressed "Accept" before it could go to voicemail.

“Hello?”

“Hey.”

Silence.

“Uh, what’s up?” Nesta asked. She collapsed onto her unmade bed. Iroh scampered past the door and jumped on the bed with her. He didn't waste a minute curling himself around her head.

"I was calling to see… maybe, I don’t know… uh, would you want to come to dinner tonight?”

I was not expecting that. And Nesta was about 95% sure this was Elain’s doing.

“Why?”

“I want you there," Feyre told her as if it were obvious.

“Why?” Nesta asked again. She hadn't seen Feyre since Thanksgiving despite her sister living just on the outskirts of the city.

That had been weeks ago.

“It's complicated," Feyre responded quietly. She seemed to pause before finding the words. "I've been so worried about Cassian, we all have. He'd never been deployed for that long - five months. It was scary. I guess I took that out on you. I don't know why..."

She drifted off. Nesta held her breath.

"I'm sure Elain told you, but he's home now. I've been more myself since he returned, and I want you to come to dinner. I… miss you.”

She rubbed her temple. “I don’t know, Feyre.”

I don't know if I can pretend to be okay for an entire night. I don't know if you even fucking want me there or if you just feel obligated. I don't know if I can be in the same room as your douchebag boyfriend. I don't know if I can be surrounded by your friends, most of whom seem to dislike me. I don't know if I can behave like a normal fucking person.

I don't know.

“Please?” The plea was soft, quiet. It was like she was almost desperate. But for what?

Nesta looked out the window where a blue jay - their dad's favorite bird - was perched on a bare tree branch. The leaves had long ago fallen, leaving the world naked and vulnerable. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

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

Feyre embraced her with an awkward hug when Nesta and Elain walked into the house. Nesta patted her on the back lightly, uncomfortable with the physical touch. Luckily, no one else seemed incline to embrace her. Rhys actually seemed to make sure he was as far away as possible.

Elain, on the other hand, gave everyone a hug. Mor gave a laugh as she squeezed Elain back, Aurra watching them with a smile. Interestingly enough, when Elain greeted Azriel with a hug, his tanned cheeks glowed red. It was almost imperceptible, but Nesta noticed.

Feyre took a step back to assess her. Nesta could see the judgement in her sister's eyes as she took in Nesta's noticeably thinner body. Luckily, however, she wasn't given the chance to comment on it when Elain piped up, "Where's Cassian? Nesta still hasn't met him yet."

"He's running a bit late," Rhys answered, glancing down at his phone. "Should be here in about ten minutes."

Everyone began to make their way into the dining room and Nesta followed. However, she was quickly tugged to the side when Amren swooped in out of nowhere and basically dragged Nesta into the privacy of the hallway. She stopped, crossed her arms over her chest, and glared at Nesta.

“Where have you been?” Amren demanded.

"What do you mean?" Nesta asked, playing dumb.

She hadn't spoken to Amren in a long time, even though they had each others' numbers. Even though Amren had repeatedly texted her, asking to get coffee or go for a walk or something else of the sorts. All of which went unanswered.

Amren rolled her eyes, and Nesta was convinced they went to the back of her head for a good minute. "Don't play dumb with me, Nesta."

“I don’t know, working?"

"Is that a question?" Amren rose a deadly brow.

Nesta huffed and mirrored Amren's angry stance. "Why are you interrogating me?"

“Because you've been radio silent for weeks. I had to ask Elain if you were still fucking alive," Amren explained. Then, she leaned in close like she didn't want anyone to hear. "I was worried about you, you bitch."

Nesta let out a sigh. "I'm sorry, okay? I've been busy. I do want to hang out, it's just that..." she trailed off.

"What? It's just that what?"

Nesta stared at the floor, unable to form words.

"Nesta, are you okay?" Amren asked, her voice softer.

Just tell her. Fucking tell her.

I was almost raped.

Just the thought was enough to make Nesta want to puke. She couldn't, it was too much and she wouldn't even be able to fucking say it and it's her fault, all her fault.

She breathed in through her nose and looked back up at Amren. She shot her the most fake smile she'd ever given. "I'm good. Seriously, I just got busy. It won't happen again."

Nesta saw the skepticism in Amren's eyes. But she conceded with a small sigh. "Well, don't do it again, okay? I seriously thought you were fucking murdered or some shit."

Nesta just nodded. Amren looked at her once more before gesturing with her chin back to the dining room. Nesta followed her.

When they rounded the corner, she stopped dead in her tracks.

Because sitting next to Feyre was the man who had tried to break into her apartment.

“Nesta!" Feyre exclaimed, calling her over from where she sat. "This is Cassian. Cassian, this is my sister, Nesta.”

Nesta simply stared at him like a deer in headlights and he stared at her, his lips parted in surprise. He was wearing a grey sweater, his long hair hanging down, no longer in a bun like it was the last time. He tucked it behind one ear.

"Are you stalking me or something?" Nesta said incredulously.

"I could ask you the same," Cassian retorted cheekily.

Feyre looked between them, a confused expression written on her face. "Do you guys know each other or something?"

"Something like that," Nesta mumbled.

Everyone's eyes were on them as they waited for an answer.

"Well as everyone knows, I live in the same building as Nesta and Elain," Cassian explained, waving a hand to the two sisters. "The other night, I got stupid drunk with a friend. He drove me back to my place and me, drunk off my fucking ass, tried to get into their apartment thinking it was mine."

The entire room erupted into laughter, Rhys choking on his food and Azriel looking up as if reasoning with the Gods.

"So when Nesta opened the door," Cassian continued, "she nearly beat me to death with a baseball bat."

Another round of laughter.

"Overreact much?"

Everyone's eyes flew to where Nesta sat. They seemed shocked. Nesta was too.

She didn't know why she said it, why she let it bother her. He was just so fucking frustrating, even his mere presence.

Cassian stuck his tongue out at her.

Feyre interrupted, her jaw agape. "You guys are acting like children."

Nesta got quiet after that. The conversation continued, thankfully taking the attention off her. As everyone laughed and conversed, Cassian looked over at her. His smile disappeared when he met Nesta's gaze. She just stared back at him, lips in a thin line. He seemed to try to gauge her reaction carefully, but her face was blank.

And so the night went on. Nesta didn't say another word after what happened. She avoided eye contact with Cassian. Avoided conversation with everyone.

It was half past eight when they all began clearing their dishes. Mor, Aurra, Azriel, and Cassian were all gathered in the kitchen cleaning up. Feyre and Rhys had excused themselves. It was just Nesta and Elain who remained in the dining room.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” Nesta leaned over to whisper to Elain.

Elain nodded. "We'll head out right after, yeah?" She must've noticed the exhaustion in Nesta's face.

Nesta agreed, excusing herself from the table.

She walked down the hallway, peeking through every door to find the bathroom. She was about to push through a door on the left that was slightly cracked open when she heard voices coming from within.

“I’m worried about him. He’s not the same.” It was Feyre.

“He never is when he comes home, Feyre," Rhys said dejectedly. "It’s happened before. Cass just needs time.”

Cass.

Nesta tiptoed closer to the door, just enough for her to listen.

“No, what he needs is to see someone!”

“I’ve tried. He doesn’t want to go.”

“Try harder, Rhys!” Feyre cried, her tone frustrated.

“We can’t just force him to go, okay?”

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing? Do you even notice how lost your own fucking brother is? Do you even care?!”

Silence.

“Rhysand, I’m sorry. Gods, I’m so sorry. I know you care. More than anyone. I just… I don’t want to lose him.”

She heard them both breathing deeply.

“C’mere,” Rhys murmured. Nesta heard Feyre's footsteps as she presumably walked toward him.

“We’ll figure it out, okay?”

“Together.”

“Always, Feyre darling.”

They got quiet, probably embracing each other. Nesta crept away from their bedroom door and into the bathroom before they could find her.

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

Elain and Nesta had just unlocked their apartment door when Nesta groaned. “Oh, shit, I forgot my wallet in the car." She fished around in her bag to make sure it wasn't in there. "I’ll be right back.”

"I'll leave the door unlocked," Elain called behind her as Nesta made her way to the elevator.

She stepped between the doors, hitting the button for the parking garage. Gods, she just wanted to go to sleep. The night had been exhausting.

After a minute or so, she was approaching her car. She unlocked her door and grabbed her wallet that was in the middle console when a pair of headlights flashed past her, a car pulling into the spot next to her.

Before panic could set in, Nesta recognized who was driver the car through the window.

Cassian.

His car turned off and he emerged from the driver's door just a moment later. He looked over where Nesta was clutching her wallet to her chest staring at him. He gave her a tight-lipped smile before turning away and walking towards the elevator. Nesta had no choice to follow.

She walked just a few feet behind him as they made their way to the elevator.

"I'm sorry," Cassian told her, his voice sincere. He cast a concerned glance her way. "For embarrassing you at dinner. And if I scared you that night."

"You didn't embarrass me," Nesta snapped at him. "You were just being annoying as hell."

His entire body seemed to relax at her insult. Cassian tried to hide his smirk but failed. "I'm glad to see you're still your normal, hotheaded self. You got me worried at dinner with your stoic behavior."

Now she really glared at him. "Don't talk like you know me. You don't."

"Oh, sweetheart," he teased. "I think we're more similar than you think."

She scoffed. "I think that hubris of yours will be your downfall."

"You know, it's quite sexy when you use literary devices to insult me," he joked.

Nesta froze.

Was he coming onto her? Chills ran down her spine when she thought of the last time a man expressed interest in her.

It's not the same, she tried to convince yourself. He's not Tomas.

Cassian must've expected a heated response to his comment because he looked surprised when Nesta simply stared straight ahead. She seemed to be in a world of her own, oblivious to everything around her. Any trace of anger was gone, replaced by a cool indifference.

Cassian's face fell. "Nesta, I didn't mean to - "

He was cut off as the elevator door dinged opened and Nesta swiftly walked out.

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

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[ellebabywrites]

The Hitman - In Exodus

Type : Oneshot (Part of The In Exodus Series) // Angst // Fluff // Smut // Cartel!au

Warnings : angst, death, cussing

Author Note : This took me far too long and had my anxieties far too high. I’m finally happy with how it turned out and hope you all enjoy it too !! Please give me some feedback because I’ve worked so hard on this chapter..

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀*⋆.*:*･ﾟ: .⋆☾ ⋆**･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ.: ⋆*･ﾟ☾

The smell of freshly baked croissants flood the streets, a sign that the Bakery is about to open and the day beginning. Shutters rise and doors open. The busting workers of Exodus bracing for the day ahead; a day of sales to kids who can barely walk straight with the amount of poison saturating their bloodstream; a day of fighting with the guy from down the road who insists that things were ‘cheaper last week’; a day of overworking for much less of a profit than it’s all worth. Living the dream.

The bakery was different though. Something about it felt like home, and everyone treated it as such. It was the only building for miles that wasn’t painted in graffiti, the only business that was doing well for itself, a little slice of goodness in the middle of all that bad.

That’s what everyone thinks anyway.

Across the street, Jongin is watching through the scope of his rifle. Watching the Baker unlock his doors and flip the closed sign to open. He scoffs. Such a poser.

Saying Jongin enjoyed his job would be pushing it; how much enjoyment can one really get from taking a life without being a psychopath? But he’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t looking forward to taking out this one particular man.

He watches the Baker great the first of his customers with a toothy grin, hugging Mrs Jamison when she comes in for her regular morning pastry. If only Mrs Jamison knew all the dirty things that man had been doing with the hand she shakes so willingly.

The town’s beloved Baker wasn’t nearly as squeeky clean as he liked everyone to believe. After hours, he found himself in SUjU territory, hanging out with drug runners, dancing around the subject of Exodus till the haze of alcohol took control, divulging any and all information that might get him another drink.

Pathetic Jongin thinks, noticing how the Baker danced around his customers with such fictitious glee, as if he hadn’t sold them out a hundred times over.

Again, not to say EXO were any better, but surely there should be some sense of town loyalty right? Jongin thinks so; making this particular betrayal all the more infuriating and his death all the more inevitable.

Jongin lines up the crosshairs of his gun against the Baker’s head, having the courtesy to wait for the shop to empty. One. The corner of his lips pull into a smirk, the buildup of adrenaline flooding his veins working as his own personal high. Two. Is it sick to say he can’t wait to kill this guy? Maybe? He deserves it Jongin thinks, afterall, he did try and ruin their business for a few shots of tequila. Thr…

“Hey Joey!”

So close…

“Well this is a surprise! How’re you today darlin’?”

Usually, you would only visit Joey’s bakery at the end of the week, needing some sort of sugary treat to get through the piles of work you had to do; but today your classes were cut short and you were gagging for something with chocolate.

“Our professor had to leave early and a girl needs her goodies!” You joked, leaning against the counter.

Joey had been a staple in Exodus for your entire life, the man was everybody’s uncle, everybody’s friend, you could talk to him about anything and your weekly visits had become a huge part of your routine.

“Good job I’ve got a whole bunch for you to choose from duck,” Joey laughs at how your eyes quickly scan over the trays of baked goods like you were a starving puppy, “Ooo I know what you should pick, I need someone to try out my new brownie recipe!”

Fuck. Joey moved away from Jongin’s line of fire just enough to grab the box of brownies from behind the counter, the perfect shot ruined by a few brownies.

“Well if you made them Joey then I’m sure they’re absolutely delicious!” you coo, giggling at how easily you can make him blush.

Just as you were about to leave and the Baker to return to the firing line, a rush of people came flooding into the small shop, putting a stop to whatever chance Jongin had at completing his mission right now.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Nini groans in frustration, packing up his equipment quickly as to get away unnoticed, “he was right there, I could have had him!” It was frustrating sure, delaying his plans a few more hours before there would be another chance to take out his target; but there would be another chance and Jongin would get the job done. So while the sweet-toothed girl had momentarily saved old Joey’s life, it wouldn’t last much longer.

---

The clock read 11:57pm as you were hunched over on the living room floor, trying to finish this essay that you’d definitely not been putting off for weeks…

“Need ...sugar ...immediately..” you whine, dramatically throwing yourself across the floor to grab the box of brownies Baker Joe had gifted you earlier in the day. Mmnn, indulging yourself in the chocolatey goodness, you decide now is the perfect time for a break, only 6,000 words left to go anyway…

Completely oblivious to the ramifications those few brownies had had on the day for more than one party, you munched away the last of them, licking the crumbs from your fingertips and moaning at the euphoria a simple treat could bring.

‘Breaking news tonight : Beloved Exodus baker found dead. The 56 year old’s body was discovered an hour ago near his home, cause of death is officially named as a GSW through the neck…’

A chill runs up your spine as the news plays quietly from the television. Baker Joe was dead. Someone had killed him! You’re confused and hurt and angry all at once. Why would anyone want to hurt Joey? He was one of the only decent people in this shit-show of a city and now he was gone. Your eyes wander to the now empty box of goodies, the bakery’s logo printed on the front in swirly gold font and you feel the sudden need to cry, so you do.

---

Who did this guy think he was? An MX falcone wandering the streets of Exodus without a care in the world, stealing from the market stalls as he sauntered his way through the crowds. Minhyuk is his name. When Baekhyun had gotten word of their latest visitor, Jongin was immediately sent to take care of it. Honestly what did they think was going to happen? That they could just hang out in Exodus without consequence? That no one would be the least bit suspicious?

“You like the farmers market huh,” Jongin keeps a trained eye on Minhyuk as he moves from stall to stall. There were far too many people around for a direct hit so all he could do was watch and wait for the perfect opportunity.

“Why the fuck are you here?” He mumbled in annoyance, MX were getting far too comfortable for anyone’s liking; it was like the calm before the storm, except the storm was standing right in front of him chatting about produce with Mr Kim.

Suddenly, Minhyuk takes a sharp left, making his way out of the bustling crowd towards the alleys. He’d been made. Fuck. Following as quickly as he could, fighting his way through the sea of people, Jongin tries to keep up.

“Excuse me, I’m trying to get to…”

Minhyuk is fast, but maybe if you weren’t standing in front of him, blocking the way, Jongin would have been able to get him.

He doesn’t immediately recognise you. Your hair is tied differently and you’re wearing a different coat, but once Jongin places you as the girl from the bakery, he’s immediately on guard. Twice now you’ve gotten in the way of a hit. Could it just be a coincidence? Sure Exodus is small, you’re bound to run into the same people more than once. Baker Joe’s was a town staple and the market is always busy, but what are the chances? Jongin tries to side-step passed you, eyes scanning the crowds for Minhyuk, but you move along with him.

Holding out a map in front of him, you try again to ask for directions but Jongin doesn’t have time. He doesn’t have time to entertain the possibility that seeing you again could be anything but a coincidence, not when he’s about to lose yet another target.

“Move!”

You watch in astonishment as he pushes you out of the way before storming off. What an asshole you think; all you needed were directions, a simple no would have sufficed. Then again you’d come to expect nothing more from the people of Exodus. Sighing, you carry on your way alone, soon forgetting about the rude man you had met on the street.

---

8am lectures were the bain of your existence, but Professor Jeong’s class was always worth it.

Armed with a large cup of coffee and a stack of notes to aid you through, you made your way to an empty space near the front of the lecture hall. Biology never came easy to you, but the drive you had to succeed more than made up for it.

“Sorry I’m late guys,” Professor Jeong rushed into the busy hall, his own cup of coffee balancing on a pile of books clutched between his arms, “I got caught up with Professor Lyn, he’s such a ...fungi!”

The room fills with groans and muffled laughs at the attempt of a joke so early in the morning, but the Professor didn’t seem to mind. “Okay I’m sorry, let’s get into today. Can anyone tell me where we left off last week? Y/N?”

From the back of the room Jongin notices you.

“Oh you have to got to be kidding me..”

Once again, you happen to show up right in the middle of a job. There had to be a reason. There was no way this could be a coincidence anymore. Were you following him? Working with MX? Trying to get intel on EXO? Jongin didn’t know, but at this point he didn’t care. You were a problem.

Jeong was another star poser in Exodus. The esteemed environmental science professor, that drew students from across the country just to take his conservational bio class. The hotshot teacher who was already in the running for tenure. The slimy asshole that used his connections in the science world to help EXO’s competitors recreate their patented drug.

This was supposed to be an easy hit, wait till after class and use the pocket knife hidden in his belt to slit the professor’s throat before next period. But now, Jongin had to put those plans on hold so that he could figure out what to do about you.

---

Following you was far easier than Jongin had anticipated, thinking that he’d be kept on his toes trying to avoid getting caught, but you seemed completely oblivious to the fact that someone had been following you, watching your routines and judging them oh so harshly.

He kept his distance at first, observing from afar as you went about your daily activities. But soon enough, Jongin found himself immersed in the story that was your life. On the sidelines, a spectator, keeping mental notes of your behaviours.

Keeping space between you, Jongin follows you down the familiar street. He knows exactly where you’re going, the same place you’ve gone to for lunch every day that week. After your first class of the day you head straight to Lou’s café to grab something to eat and get some studying done. Like clockwork, the only thing to change was your order. Jongin would never admit that he’d grown to enjoy the establishment himself, but it was one of the least tedious moments of the day.

With the sky starting to darken in the cold weather, you fumble around your bag for your wallet amongst the loose scrunchies and old receipts, Jongin scoff in disbelief.

“How have you not been jumped yet?” He mumbled to himself. Before you’ve even walked through the café doors you have your money in hand, out in the open for anyone to take. Jongin had picked up on the blissful ignorance you had in regards to the danger in Exodus, instead, choosing to carry on carefree. Stupid he thinks.

Standing in line a few spots behind you, he watches as you let person after person cut in front and he just doesn’t get it. You only have an hour before the start of your next class and yet you’re willingly letting yourself be pushed back? People were clearly taking advantage of your kindness, but you were either incredibly stupid or didn’t care. When the older woman in front of you is a few dollars short, you don’t hesitate before lending her the difference, even putting back your own drink just so you could afford to help her. How could someone so generous be apart of something so evil? Then again, most of Exodus were playing that game.

Grabbing a coffee of his own, Jongin sits a table over from where you plant yourself, what had become your regular spots. Finding amusement in the way you struggle to fit both of your study books in the small space.

Now, only a short while before you needed to be back in class, you attempt to get as much work done while shoveling food down your throat as you could. Jongin thought it was hilarious, bar the tuna mayo that is. “Tuna? Really? It’s 11am jesus christ!” Maybe it was easy for him to judge you from a distance, but out of all the things he’d learnt, your love of tuna was the worst.

He watches your face scrunch and eyebrows furrow as you try and absorb the information, recognising the same study book you’ve been working on all week, the one for Professor Jeong’s class that you’d been struggling with. The pages covered almost entirely in highlighter with notes and doodles littering the margins. Cute.

You just seem so harmless. No matter how hard he tries Jongin just can’t seem to figure you out. Perhaps MX were blackmailing you? Maybe they had something that forced you to be their spy? It was the only explanation he could think of, because it just didn’t seem plausible that the girl in front of him, furiously editing her notes for the hundredth time that hour, the one with drops of mayonnaise left over on the corner of her lips, could be willingly working with the notorious MX. But you were involved somehow, of that he was sure.

---

The library is quiet, the sound of rustling papers and hushed whispers being the only source of noise. Luckily, it was busier than usual due to the wave of group projects being assigned, it made it easy for Jongin to blend in.

He watches you curiously from behind one of the bookshelves, trying to understand why you haven’t slapped the asshole beside you yet. He’d been cutting you off and putting you down every chance he could.

“I just think if we..”

“Seriously Y/N don’t strain yourself, I think we’ve got it.”

Asshole.

Even Jongin wanted to punch this guy. Being the only girl in the group, the others found it easy to dismiss everything you offered.

“Why doesn’t she say anything?” Jongin wondered, once again you were letting people walk all over you.

It’s not like you particularly enjoyed being treated that way, in fact you were daydreaming about slamming said assholes’ face into the wall at that very moment, but you couldn’t do that. This project defines your grade for the semester and you couldn’t afford that kind of taint on your record. So you bite your tongue. Act none the wiser and count the seconds before you could go home and be done with them all.

Across the library you spot Minho, the cute senior who’d been working as the student librarian for the last month or so. He’s scanning out returns at the desk, eyes glancing up occasionally, you presume to keep an eye on things . God he’s cute. When he spots you staring and then takes a look at the rather heated debate going on between your group, he decides to save you from the disarray, waving you over.

“My hero,” you tease, almost running to where Minho is.

“It was getting too painful to watch! What’s he ranting about this time?” He teases playfully, knowing all too well the constant tension in your study group.

“Ugh I don’t even know, it’s so much easier just to tune him out,”

Jongin’s teeth clench watching the exchange between you and the librarian. The childish giggling, the ‘accidental’ touches, the lingering stares. Disgusting.

“Who even is this guy?” If he didn’t know any better Jongin would think this was jealousy, but he did know better, so all of these unfamiliar feelings had to be from just how pitiful the sight was. This guy was clearly flirting with you, the blush on his cheeks and sweaty palms said as much, but from everything Jongin had learnt, you weren’t going to reciprocate. Tragic.

“Are you kidding me? Why is she twirling her hair like that!? He’s not even her type! He’s... he…” his mumbled ranting cut off by the sound of you laughing across the room. “Well if that is her type then no wonder she’s corrupt.”

He watches the pair of you for a little longer before the need to throw up eventually overtakes his need to stay, deciding he could catch you up later and spare himself the torture of sitting through whatever this was.

---

The open sign light bounces off wet concrete, illuminating your face with such a subtle glow of pink that Jongin could barely make out the streaks of tears running down your cheeks. He almost missed you sitting crouched over on the pavement, the smell of smoke being what made him stop. Why is she crying? He thought to himself, seeing you curled up in a ball, cigarette dangling from your fingertips haphazardly concerned him. Jongin didn’t have to wonder for too long though, the closer he got to you the clearer he could hear your muffled cries.

“Stupid fucking Geord,” you cuss, taking another long drag to calm your anxieties, “takes all my ideas, monopolises the entire presentation and then my contribution isn’t enough!?”

Jongin had come to know the infamous Geord all too well this last week, the pompous ass that had belittled you in the library, the snotty rich kid with mommy issues that just loved being right. Honestly the fact he hadn’t killed him yet was an accomplishment in itself; but still, seeing you clearly so upset gave Jongin a weird feeling.

You were either getting much better with your performance skills, or he was actually getting mad for you…

With each sniffle, each tear drop, Jongin felt his resolve breaking away and being replaced with a type of anger he’d never felt before. Why did he care that you were crying? Why was it affecting him so much? He didn’t know, but it took all his strength not to go find Geord and make him regret whatever he’d done.

As quickly as you put out the cigarette that was now burning short, you’re reaching for the box to light another. You only really smoked when you were feeling particularly stressed, Jongin hated it. Ironically it was the most disgusting thing he’d ever seen; painting the walls with someone’s brain was nothing compared to the strong stench of nicotine that passed your lips.

For a second Jongin lets his mind entertain the thought of approaching you, but the professional side of him reminds him who you were. This could be a trick...She’s not an idiot. Then he considers calling you out. Drawing his gun and putting an end to MX’s game once and for all, besides, he’d been observing you for a week now and he couldn’t afford for his attention to be diverted any more, he still had the good old Professor to end.

Before he gets the chance to do either however, you stand up. Taking one last drag before stomping out the flame, your hands carelessly wipe at your face in a feeble attempt at clearing the remnants of your breakdown.

“I’ll be fine, let’s just go home,” you whisper, more than familiar with putting yourself back together and wanting nothing more than a hot bath and warm bed.

---

When you first noticed that the new guy on campus was following you, you tried not to think too much of it. In all honesty, you were far too busy trying to keep on top of everything to pay much attention as to why you were being followed. Knowing the people in Exodus, you figured it was just his creepy way of flirting, or at the very worst he was planning on robbing you, not that you had much to take anyway. But as the days went by and the presence of your stalker persisted, you were growing frustrated. It’d been a stressful week and the last thing you needed was some guy watching your every move.

After getting the results back from Professor Jeong for your group presentation, you weren’t exactly in a ‘good mood’ and the looming shadow of the man trying to be inconspicuous as he followed you home, was the last straw.

"How much longer are you planning on following me?” You shout over your shoulder, not having the energy to even face him. When you get no response, you reluctantly decide to turn around to stare him down.

His chocolate coloured hair is pushed back exposing his forehead, eyes golden but harbouring so much animosity that they could have turned black, the jacket adorning his shoulders almost blending him into the dark street behind. He was handsome, strikingly so.

“Look dude it’s been a long day, can’t you just lay off the stalking for one night?”

Jongin stiffens at your words. So you did know he was there? And chose now, while you were both alone in a dark street, to confront him? God she’s stupid.

“Sorry Darling, can’t do that,” he insisted, watching how your shoulders slumped and fingers twitched at the side of your coat.

“Of course,” sighing deeply, too tired to argue, you decide to continue on towards your apartment, stalker be damned.

“Aren’t MX getting bored of this game yet?” Jognin calls. He figures if you already knew he was following you, then now would be the perfect time to put an end to it. You were alone after all.

When he sees you freeze at the sound of MX, he takes a tentative step closer, you’re still turned away from him, just a few steps ahead. “I mean, were you really the best they could do? We expected more.” The smirk on his face when you turn to him, wide eyed and lost for words, only grows at your reaction. Gotcha.

“What are you talki..”

“Come on now Darling, we both know what’s going on here.”

“I promise you we do not.” You’ve heard whispers of MX around town, while you didn’t know much, you did know that if this guy thought you were somehow apart of it, then this was a dangerous misunderstanding.

“You have a choice.” Jongin takes another step closer, “You can leave, now, and make sure MX stay out of Exodus for good,” Reaching under his jacket, he grabs the gun that’s been burning through the back of his shirt since you called out to him, “Or I can send them a message myself. Choose.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about!” You tried to keep calm, swallowing the lump forming at the back of your throat. When you spotted the gun being pulled from his coat, it was like a pin dropped and the reality of the situation finally began to sink in.

Exodus is a dangerous place. Exodus is full of dangerous people. You were standing alone with a strange man that you’d just yelled at, that had been following you for god knows how long, a gun pointed at your face and not a soul in sight that would help you.

He doesn’t flinch when you jump back, his smirk doesn’t falter when you start begging for him to listen. In Jongin’s mind, the fact you’d acknowledged his presence at all was enough to prove you were involved.

“Please, please, just listen to me, t-there’s been a mistake, I d-don’t kno…”

“Oh my god shut up!” He yelled over your desperate cries, “It’s over! Done!”

“I don’t know who you think I am, b-but my name is Y/N I grew up a few towns over with my parents, I-I study Conservation Biology at the university because when I was little I saw a film about sea turtles and now I love them.. I...” you read somewhere that telling a killer personal information about yourself would make them less likely to kill you; so, with your hands held up in surrender, you start begging, pleading, letting slip every boring and mediocre fact about yourself in hopes that the handsome stranger will let you live.

Jongin was taken aback to say the least. Never had a target begged for their life quite like  this before, but the more you rambled on and the more tears that fell down your cheeks, he couldn’t help it. He believed you.

This is a mistake... Did I mess up here? Fuck! His mind raced to find a way out of this, but his composure was breaking down with each second you plead your case. How could he have gotten things so wrong? Looking at you now; scared and shaking, there was no way you could be with MX. Jongin’s mind quickly looks back on all the time he’d been watching you, at school, at the library, with friends, home alone... Is it possible he let feelings cloud his judgment? No… Jongin didn’t have feelings.

Bang.

In a split second the air was slashed with bullets, plastering the wall behind you with open wounds. Your body drops to the floor, hands covering your ears like a scared child at a fireworks display, your screams piercing through the air.

Jongin doesn’t even think about it before he’s at your side. He fires back some warning shots, just enough to cover the pair of you so he could pull you out of there, but you were frozen in place.

“C’mon we need to get out of here! I can’t get a clear shot!”

Jongin hoisted your trembling body into his arms, waiting for a gap in the bullet wave before rushing out of the street. Weaving between the crumbling buildings, waiting in the shadows for a free moment to sprint out of there to a nearby underpass. It was sheltered and open, meaning Jongin could keep a solid eye on the surroundings while still keeping you safe while he let himself freak out a little.

As soon as he puts you on the ground you melt into the concrete, hugging your knees to your chest and crying into them silently. It’s all too much. How did this happen? Yesterday you were failing Bio and trying to avoid the creeper puppy boy that’d been following you. Now…. you were pretty sure you were going to die tonight.

“Fuck...fuck..fuck, fuck, FUCK!” Jongin paces back and forth, using the barrel of his gun to scratch away the headache slowly spreading across his temples. How could he have messed up this badly? He’s the best… at least... he was the best.

With every footstep he takes you flinch a little, hyper aware of the gun swinging from his hand, fingertip dancing along the trigger. You still don’t know who he is or why you’re there but you’ve seen enough to know to keep quiet. So you stay sitting on the ground, letting the tears melt into the fabric of your jeans, watching the state of panic escalate in the man in front of you while your own turned into something akin to resentment.

After almost half an hour of silently waiting for some sort of direction, you’ve had enough. Eventually Jongin had stopped pacing, choosing to lean up against the wall with head in hands, instead. In your mind, you have nothing to do with this. There is nothing connecting you to whatever chaos was happening here. You had no reason to wait around to get shot.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?!” He shouts, annoyance bubbling beneath his skin.

“Home.”

“You can’t!” Pushing himself off the wall, Jongin reaches for your arm in an attempt to keep you still. You try to shake him off but his grip is too strong.

“I DIDN’T ASK FOR ANY OF THIS!” You’re screaming at him now. Tears no longer from fear, but anger. You feel trapped in whatever this was and it wasn’t fair, you just want to go home.

“Yeah well tough shit Darling, because unfortunately you’re my responsibility now and it’s my job to make sure you don’t get yourself killed!”

“I can take care of myself! I’ve been doing it long enough!” He rolls his eyes at your response, growing tired of trying to be the good guy for once. “Let me go! I’ll be just fine! Like always!”

Finally loosening the grip on your arm, Jongin let’s you storm off. Waiting, only out of spite, for you to be out of ear shot before cussing out loud at himself.

---

Somehow you managed to drag yourself to class. The events of last night still burning fresh at the back of your mind, but you were desperate enough for a distraction that even Professor Jeong’s morning class was worth that extra effort.

Barely able to keep your eyes open with the little sleep you were actually able to get, it takes you a moment to recognise the familiar body that plants themselves in the desk next to yours.

Jongin doesn’t look at you. Maybe it’s pride, maybe it’s nerves, but he keeps his eyes trained on the professor’s desk up front, waiting for his cover to be inevitably blown all for the sake of keeping you safe.

“Good morning class!” The professor’s abrupt entrance pulls your shocked and frustrated gaze from burning holes in the side of Jongin’s neck. His tan skin glowing under the plain white tee he’s wearing, hair falling into his eyes softly, contradicting the hard image he’d worn the night before. Does he have his gun with him? You wonder, letting your eyes wander to the waistband of his jeans, remembering how he’d pulled the weapon from them the night before. Stop! You hope he doesn’t realise you’ve been blankly staring at his crotch, mind racing with questions, you don’t even know his name.

“Today we’re picking up the remaining presentati…” When the admirable Professor meets eyes with Jongin, smirking from his seat beside you knowingly, he loses all train of thought.

It’s a feeling Jongin had missed. When a mark knows they’re done for, that he’s coming for them. When their eyes double in size. When fear pales their skin. When they lose all hope of fucking over EXO and getting away with it.

“T-today..um…” You can see the Professor eyeing your seat partner nervously, stuttering over his words. You’d never seen Jeong like this before, he looked terrified, and after last night it didn’t take a genius to figure out why.

Jongin shifts in his seat, enjoying the effect his presence has on the esteemed scholar. While Jeong tries to regain some semblance of decorum, Jongin wraps one of his arms around your shoulders and squeezes tightly, keeping eye contact with the professor, claiming you.

“What are you doing?” keeping your voice low as to not draw anymore attention to you both, you try to push Jongin’s arm away from you, only for him to put it right back.

“My job. Now be quiet.” He hisses, hiding the harshness of his voice behind a sickly sweet smile.

Professor Jeong spends the entire lecture avoiding your side of the room, refusing to make eye contact, completely ignoring you. You try not to take it personally of course, it’s definitely not because of something you did, that you know for sure; but for once you actually know the answers to some of these questions and want to participate.

“I told you, I can take care of myself!” you grumbled, again trying to physically get Jongin away from you, but he just smirks. Like he was enjoying it. Like this was all just some big game and not the life threatening situation he’d made it out to be the night before.

And you would probably believe that were true, if it wasn’t for his nails digging so sharply into your shoulder.

By the time class finishes you want to run a million miles away. The pressure of Jongin’s arm around your neck you’re sure will leave you aching for days; but as long as he’s far away from you, you can deal with it. You all but sprint out of the lecture hall, forgetting all about your next class and heading straight home; taking a back street you hope he hadn’t seen you use before.

“What the hell is this?” You mumble to yourself, pushing down the fear as far as you can in hopes the empty space will leave room for answers. You’re so caught up in your head, trying to figure out what you did to deserve this, you don’t even realise that Jongin’s been on your tail the whole time, watching you freak out and creep around like the amateur he now knows you are. It’s not until he steps into your building’s elevator with you that you realize he’s there.

“Jesus! Fuck, can’t you leave me alone!” He was exhausting; flattering when you thought it was a puppy crush, less so now you know he wanted to kill you.

“I can’t,” Jongin leans against the side of the elevator, growing tired of the chase.

“Why?! You’re the only one stalking me here!”

“Oh Darling, you have no idea.”

“Then explain! Because I’m tired of this! I have work to do, classes to study for, and I can’t when you’re scaring my teachers and dragging me through shoot outs!!”

Jongin understands why you’re annoyed. He gets it, he messed up and now you’re in danger. But to admit that outloud… to admit that to you… he’d rather not.

He doesn’t give you an answer, finding his reflection in the steel doors far more interesting, chewing the inside of his cheek and fixing his jacket over and over.

When you finally reach your floor, it becomes a race of wills to get to your apartment. Jongin trying to force his way in; you trying to lock him out. You sprint for the door, key in hand; almost managing to slam it shut in his face before Jongin’s hand pushes it back open, forcing himself through the small gap and locking you both inside.

In a second he’s slamming your back against the door with his hand covering your mouth, keeping you in place with the weight of his body, trying to work up the nerve to finally tell you the truth.

“I’m not going to hurt you, but you need to listen to me just for one fucking second… My name is Jongin, okay?” he asks, face dangerously close to your own. You manage a weak nod under his hold, terrified but needing answers.

“I made a mistake. I...I thought you were working with MX,”

Your eyes widen at the second mentioning of the infamous gang, more confused than ever as to why he thought you would ever be involved with them. He didn’t even know you.

“There’s rumours they’re coming for EXO territory..”

He’s with EXO. The realisation floods through your body like a lightning strike, frying your nerves, limbs locked in place while the rest of your body falls limp into his arms. EXO. The kings of this city. The reason shops close early and children aren’t allowed out after 9. The  doctors responsible for prescribing the death, the destruction, of a city once so healthy and vibrant. Monsters, as far as you’re concerned.

“They must have seen me tailing you and after last night, I think you’re a target.” Jongin watches as your eyes well up with tears, red and swollen as you choke back the sobs you so obviously want to release. It doesn’t affect him… it doesn’t make him angry… he doesn’t want to wrap you in a hug and take it all back… right?

“So as much as you don’t like it, I’m here. I messed up so I need to fix it, because this isn’t a game and this isn’t a joke. If they think you’re with us they will kill you. Milk carton kids, where are they now, 27 club dead.”

You wish he was a better actor. That he could hide the shame, guilt, pain he feels for putting you in this position better. That the cold exterior he wears so well didn’t have quite as many cracks, because then maybe you could tell yourself that everything was going to be okay. But if Jongin looks scared, then you’re absolutely terrified.

Blinded by the fear, your body reacts before your mind can catch up. Fists pounding into his chest weakly as the sound of your sobs rip into his heart. You’re in hysterics, screaming at him for an answer to questions still lodged at the back of your throat. Jongin doesn’t break down with you, as much as his body tries. Instead he just grabs your wrists, stopping their assault and pinning them into his embrace. His hold the only thing keeping you standing as you finally let the last walls crumble, letting out every tear, every scream, every desperate cry for it all to be some twisted dream.

Jongin doesn’t know how you both ended up on the floor, your head buried between your knees as his hand finds itself brushing through your hair. Somehow you manage to calm yourself down, letting the sobs turn to whimpers and cries to sniffles. Finally numb after the dust settles in your mind, you force yourself to look back up at Jongin. He looks how you feel, just doing a better job at hiding it; you don’t miss the concern that washes over his face and maybe that’s why you decide to let him stay. If he was so determined to fix what he’d done, you weren’t going to stop him. At least not tonight.

“I need to sleep,” you say weakly, standing on shaky legs but brushing off Jongin’s worried hands when he tries to help, “you can stay on the couch.”

---

Tiptoeing across the living room, shoelaces dangling from your teeth while your hands clutch onto your books; you’re desperately trying not to wake a sleeping Jongin. His sprawled out body half falling from the couch, you admit he looks a lot cuter when he’s sleeping.

Before you can stop it, one of your shoes drops from between your teeth, making Jongin jump up at the sound.

“What are you doing?” he mumbled, rubbing the fatigue from his face, stretching back into his familiar hard persona.

“Uhh, going for breakfast?”

“Did you not hear me last night!” It didn’t sound like a question. His voice raising ever so slightly in frustration as he stands to tower over you. Failing miserably at being as intimidating as usual, with his hair a mess and cheeks puffy.

“I heard you,” you say, pushing your feet into the fallen shoes before giving him a chance to stop you, “I’m just not going to hide away like a victim when this is your mess.” He stiffens at your words, ignoring the cut they etch into his heart, instead focusing on your relentless stubbornness in such a risky situation.

“If they catch you out alone they won’t miss another shot!” Jongin clenches his jaw when you roll your eyes at his remark, unsure of what he can do to change your mind.

“Look if you’re so worried, you’re more than welcome to join me,” you offer, determination radiating off of your face in such a way that Jongin finds himself unable to argue.

---

For the next few days Jongin stays by your side, sleeping on your couch, going to breakfasts, your classes, all to make sure you were safe.

He walks the familiar routes around town with you, not from a few paces back this time, but shoulder to shoulder. Sitting beside you in Professor Jeong’s early morning classes, Jongin was having far too much fun watching the colour drain from his face each time he showed up to one of your lectures to kill him just yet.

Everything became a threat to your safety. As far as Jongin was concerned, your life was in danger and MX could strike at any moment…. Even if it had been quiet since the shooting… it was better to be safe. That’s what Jongin told himself everytime he stayed a little longer.

“Hey Y/N!” Minho waved at you from across the library, he was reshelving returns when he spotted you studying at your usual table.

Jongin felt his ears burn red at the sight. Jaw clenching when he sees the boy walk over. Eyes narrow in judgment when you return his warm smile.

“Hey Minho, how are you?” It’d been a few days since you’d last had the chance to talk with Minho, him still as handsome as ever, but your heart not jumping quite so high at the interaction.

“I’m good, are you? I’ve missed seeing you around lately..” Minho let’s his words fade noticing the glare he was getting from the man sat beside you. “Oh I’m sorry, I’m Minho, Y/N’s friend!”

Jongin glances at Minho’s outstretched hand between them, choosing to throw his own over your shoulder rather than shake it.

“I’m Kai, Y/N’s boyfriend.” He smirks at the shocked expression that Minho wears, ignoring your startled one in favour of silently challenging the boy to leave.

“Oh...oh uh… Nice to meet you, I’ll see you guys around..”

Jongin keeps you close till he’s sure Minho has gone, only loosening his grip when he feels you nudge him gently.

“What the fuck was that, Kai?” You’re more amused than angry, but you’d never let him know that, enjoying seeing the varied emotions you can bring out of him now, when  he was supposed to be a stone cold killer.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” feigning innocence, Jongin tries to go back to reading the book he’d randomly grabbed from the pile in front of you both.

You scoff at his reaction, or lack thereof, staring at him quizzically till he finally gave in.

“That guy is sketchy! I’m here to protect you right?  So I’m protecting you. Good?”

“Minho is not sketchy,” you giggle and Jongin can’t help but smile at the sound, “and who is Kai?”

“It’s what my friends call me!”

---

“Hey!” Jongin had appeared out of nowhere, pulling the cigarette from between your lips and stomping it out. With Geord goading you relentlessly for the last hour of class, you were desperate for a smoke. You would argue that those little white sticks of bliss were the only thing keeping you from ripping his throat out.

“It’s disgusting,” he says, leaning down to your height so he could look you in the eye, “why do you do this?”

With a deep sigh, you stuff the near empty packet of unlit cigarettes back into your coat  pocket, storming away in frustration, knowing he’d follow you.

“Wait, I’m serious!”

“I like them!” you shout back, thankful the streets were empty so you could argue in peace.

“They’re bad for you you know!” he teases, laughing when you throw your middle finger up behind you.

“My cigarettes are better for me than you are!” Teasing back, you finally turn to face him, a cheeky smile on your face.

---

“We got him.”

While making dinner for the pair of you, Jongin’s phone buzzes on the counter, a string of messages coming in from someone called Minseok. You tried not to be nosey, sitting on the counter beside him while he cooked, but he didn’t even glance at it.

“Wasn’t MX. Some small town nobody trying to prove himself.”

“Jongin”

“Call me when you get this”

“Boss wants you back asap”

The thought of Jongin leaving had never even crossed your mind till then. It hadn’t been that long at all, but it felt like an eternity since he’d first come into your life. Maybe it was selfish to want him to stay.

Jongin had recently started to open up to you more about his work with EXO. He was their protector, he kept them safe. You didn’t see him as this dangerous monster anymore, he was just Jongin, Kai, the one who took care of things. Just like he’d been taking care of you all this time.

You knew deep down that when he left you’d probably never see him again; if what EXO suspects is true and MX really were making their way into Exodus, then there was a storm coming and Jongin would be right in the middle of it. He wouldn’t risk getting you anymore tangled in EXO’s mess.

“Here, try this,” Jongin held a spoon up to your mouth expectantly; pretending he didn’t see Minseok’s messages, pretending you didn’t see them either, holding on to this reality for just a little longer.

---

“We need you back Jongin,”

After ignoring Minseok’s messages a few days ago, Jongin couldn’t ignore another call from the boss.

“Jun I have to pr..”

“No you don’t! We took care of the shooter, the girl will be fine! EXO needs you, I need you!”

He doesn’t want to leave. Jongin doesn’t know what it is that makes him want to stay near you, keep you safe, go to breakfasts at Lou’s - but the thought of leaving it all behind makes his heart twist and turn in unimaginable ways.

His whole life had been about EXO. They’re his friends, his family, and he would never abandon them. But somehow he’s made a new home with you, in his heart at least. You feel like home. Sitting on your living room floor watching Blue Planet feels like home. Falling asleep on your shoulder in the middle of your lectures feels like home. EXO have been his entire identity for so long, but now there’s this other life, another door, and Jongin was finding hard to resist stepping through.

“Be back today. We have work to do.”

After Junmyeon’s orders, the frustration coursed through Jongin’s body with such force he hadn’t even realised he’d thrown the phone till you were beside him, asking what was wrong.

“I...I have to leave.” He couldn’t look you in the eye. He didn’t want to see the betrayal, the disappointment, the pain reflected in them. “It’s my fault you’re in danger and now I have to leave you…”

He doesn’t know that you know.

“I..I’ll be okay Nini.. I can look after myself remember?” Your voice is weak but you do your best to convince him; as much as you want him to stay you know that’s not an option, and you know he knows it too because he can barely look at you right now.

“Y/N… I don’t want to leave..”

It broke your heart but there was no other choice. You had to let him go. The boy you’d tried so hard to avoid just a few weeks ago, you now didn’t want to see go.

“I know..” You cup the side of his face, forcing him to look at you as you spoke, “but they need you Nini...” It was hard to keep how you were really feeling hidden, especially when he looked like he was about to break, “You’re the best Nini, they deserve the best.”

He knew you were right. He needed to be there for EXO, his family. Things in Exodus were about to get a lot messier and the fallout would be astronomical, if he wasn’t there to do his part there’s no telling what could happen, then you really would be in danger.

Leaning into your touch, Jongin grips onto your hips like it was the first time not the last, pulling you flush against his body. Memorizing the shape of your hips, touch of your skin, smell of your shampoo. Locking you inside his heart. Melding the memory of you into his soul so that this wouldn’t be the last time. He would forever be with you and you would always be there for him, long after he’s gone.

Looking at you would be too much, he might not be able to force himself away if he saw your eyes. Saying goodbye felt too final, like the end of something that never really was. Instead Jongin buried your head into his shaking chest, placing a gentle kiss to the top of your head, pretending he can’t feel your tears soaking through his shirt, before turning away and walking out of your life forever.

[lia-jones]

Growing Pains - Chapter Six - When We Dance

I removed the dress from the plastic case it was in. It was an a-line lowered back boat neck dress, made of red satin. It had a simple and elegant cut, and I would use it with a long white cape.

It had been a long time since I last worn a gown, and I used to wear them all the time. Daniel was the son of one of the wealthiest families back in Portugal, so charity balls and other events of the sort were a usual thing for me.

I put on the dress remembering the last time I had worn it, during a reception at Daniel’s parents’ mansion in Lisbon. Daniel’s mother was a painter, and she was throwing a private party for the debut of her new collection, the word private meaning it would have over 100 guests. It was also the day that I had my first big argument with my mother. I remembered her words in my room, lecturing me in Portuguese , as I looked at myself wearing the red satin.

“Andy, this is not like you. First you didn’t like his lifestyle, you said it wasn’t for you, and now your wardrobe is full of those dresses. You’re losing your identity to this boy.” She said, her tone calm and cool as always, keeping her poised attitude.

“Mom, this is important to Daniel. It’s his mother’s work, I need to be there.”

“And last week it was about the environment, and the other week was about the children in Africa. I don’t want to be judgmental, but you’re the kind of girl that would actually go to Africa and help them, not sit in a room full of snobs sipping champagne to raise money.”

“Calling someone a snob is not judgmental?” I said, raising my eyebrow at my mom.

“All I’m saying is that you seem to be losing yourself in this relationship. It’s like Daniel calls all the shots now, it’s not like you! What about your doctorate? You were going to start it this year, and now you’re working in his father’s company, and completely dropped the subject. You are living his life, following his dreams, what about yours? I just don’t want you to lose sight of who you are.” Mariana the therapist was slowly giving way to Mariana the mother.

I remember how she held me, trying to coax some sense into me, showing me that I was slowly and willing fading away, and I didn’t listen. I was too dazzled with love, with this fairytale that was happening to me, to see that the charming prince was actually the wicked witch offering me a poisoned apple. A few months later, I would turn my back on my mom. On my own mother, so full of love and concern over me.

I emerged from my own thoughts and resumed getting ready. I put on my dress, my silver sandals, and got my hair done in an updo, letting some of strands of my soft curly hair come down from it. I applied some nude makeup on my eyes, and a shimmering red lipstick, to match the dress and contrast the dark brown of my eyes. I looked at the clock, it was 7:50 pm. I had five minutes to get down. I grabbed my purse and ran for the door.

As I came down the first steps of the lobby, I noticed Victor was sitting on the sofa, waiting. He spotted me on the stairs and got up immediately.

This was the very first time I really noticed Victor. He was wearing a long black coat over a black suit and vest and a white shirt with a charcoal tie, and a silver scarf over his shoulders. He somehow looked taller than usual to me, and I couldn’t help but notice his broad shoulders and well-defined torso, hugged by his vest. And those greys eyes, framed with thick dark eyelashes, they seemed shinier than usual. For the first time, I could really notice how handsome he was. Boy, was he handsome.

I stood in front of him, noticing his eyes were wide, staring at me.

“Anything wrong? Is the dress not appropriate for the ball?”

“No.” He hurried to answer, but his voice came out horse, so he cleared his throat and then answered slowly. “It’s… suitable.”

We walked to the car, and he stopped by the passenger back door, opening it for me. I thanked him, nodding politely. He went around and opened the door on the other side, sitting next to me and motioning the driver to go.

“Who are we meeting at the ball? Any potential partner?” I asked as soon as the car started moving.

“We may meet some people there, but tonight is not about work. Tonight, we enjoy ourselves.” He said, staring at the road ahead.

“Wait, I thought this was for work! I really… Oh.” I exclaimed, remembering Miss Bates. She seemed extremely interested in Victor, and she would be at the ball. Victor surely was afraid she would volunteer to be his date for the night. “I get it now. I’m your beard. Well played.” I affirmed, amused.

“You’re my what now?” Victor asked, a frustrated frown on his face.

“Miss Bates is going to be there. And judging by the way she spoke to you today, she wants to make you her 8th course at the ball. You want a female companion to lead her to believe you might not be available after all. A beard.” I explained, matter-of-factly.

Victor looked at me like he had lost the ball in the high weeds.

“You caught up on that?” He finally said, sighing.

“Hard not to.” I said, laughing. “Don’t worry, I won’t let go of you, if that’s what you want me to do.”

“Well, you should enjoy yourself too. After all, you did a fairly decent job and you deserve a break. Besides, you’ll see that in these events there is no shortage of bootlickers and trite people. It will be good to have someone that is not a total moron to talk to, for a change.”

We arrived to the venue, being led by the staff to the ball room. It was the main entrance of an old library that had been remodeled with the purpose of holding parties. The decoration was elegant and sober, but it had an imperial feeling to it, like it was the ballroom of some king.

We barely stepped foot in the ballroom, we heard Miss Bates from afar.

“Victor! Darling! I’m so glad you made it!” She almost jumped to him in excitement. But as she saw me, her face dropped. “Oh, I see you brought Andrea.”

Victor immediately came closer to me, our bodies almost touching.

“She didn’t want to come, but I dragged her along. After all the good work, she deserves a break.” He looked at me, smiling. I smiled back, my expression one of adoration. Got to play the part, right?

“Oh indeed. Remember to save a dance for me later, won’t you, dear?” She said, slightly stroking his tie.

“We’ll see, Andrea here is looking forward to dancing, I can’t leave her unattended.” He said, taking a small step back. “Let’s go see where we sit, shall we?” He said, turning to me.

We found our table and sat. The waiter came holding a bottle of wine, filling Victor’s glass with a small amount for taste. After Victor’s approval, the waiter filled my glass and left the bottle on the table. I twirled slightly the wine glass in my hand.

“Hmmm, good wine. Maybe you should let it breath a bit more, though.” I said, smelling my wine glass.

“Since when do you know about wine?” Victor said, chuckling.

“My father would disown me if I didn’t. He’s an oenologist. Taught me everything I know.” I said, finally sipping my wine.

“You just became a lot more interesting.” He said, the corners of his mouth slightly turning upwards.

“Because I know about wine? The best man to talk to is my dad, actually. I just know a few things.”

“Interesting… So the father is an oenologist. And the mother?” Victor asked, resting his chin on his hand.

“Mom is a psychologist. A therapist, if you will. Although she doesn’t do therapy anymore, she works in research now.” I said, bracing for the reaction. Saying my mother was a therapist always made people react in some way.

“And the plot thickens… How is it like to be raised by a therapist?” Victor asked, amused.

“Lots of unwarranted therapy.” We both laughed. “No, she’s great. She means well.”

“Any brothers or sisters?”

“A twin brother. He’s a musician.”

“So I take it he is the underachiever?”

“I don’t know, he’s pretty happy. He is a bass player in an orchestra by day, rebel rocker by night. And in my mother’s opinion, he’s the one doing well. She raised us both to be musicians.”

“That’s pretty odd. Parents usually want their kids to be doctors and lawyers.”

“Not my old folks.” I shrugged. “They were always a bit “out of the box”, teaching us to think for ourselves and encouraging us to be creative. What about your parents?”

“My father works in investments as well, I’m sure you already knew that.” Victor said, matter-of-factly.

“Yes, I read your bio when I applied to LFG.” I said, rolling my eyes. “You’re a true overachiever. Talk about golden child.” I teased. “I couldn’t see anything about your mother though.”

“No, you’re still the golden child. Raised to be an anarchist, and still you managed to excel in very tough areas.” Victor said, ignoring what I said about his mother.

“You have your own empire.” I looked flatly at him.

“That I didn’t build exactly from scratch, like my father did. It’s my empire, built with my money and work, but I had all the help, all the tutors, all the chances I needed. Everything I needed done was just a phone call away. You had to fight for all of those things, even…” He stopped dead on his tracks. I wondered what he was about to say.

“Even what?” I asked, curious.

“Hem, never mind.” Victor cleared his throat. I decided not to insist, there was probably some not so veiled insult coming my way. “You were asking about my mother. She was an artist, like your mother likes them. She was a pianist, she stopped performing when I was born.”

“So your creativity, you take after her then?” I said, smiling mischievously.

“Oo, do I sense a compliment?” Victor teased.

“I don’t know, I always found your insults very creative. It takes a true artistic mind to find 50 different ways to call someone a moron.” My words made Victor chuckle.

“Not a compliment, then.” He said, smiling. “I’m glad my insults are creative, at least.”

“So, what does your mother do now? Does she perform, now her child is all grown up and ruling the world?”

“She died when I was 14. Cancer.” Victor’s face fell, and I felt like punching myself.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up. I’m truly sorry.” I said, rubbing my forehead. Idiot.

“You didn’t know.” Victor said, reaching for my hand. “Don’t beat yourself up. It’s ok.”

I looked around and I saw the food was already being served. Another people came to sit at our table. Miss Bates was sitting at the table next to ours, shooting daggers at us, as we were still holding hands.

“If looks could kill I’d be dead by now, right?” I asked. Victor understood what I meant.

“Let’s give her something to think over dinner.” He held my hand and kissed it, his lips lingering on my skin. The touch ignited something inside me, sending electricity up my spine. “So… What exactly is your doctorate thesis about?”

“Fair trade.” I said, excited. “I have studied long and hard about fair trade, so my thesis is about the practical use of it with the cooperation of two or three small companies. Imagine you have the possibility to invest in three small companies, very recent ones. You’d take these companies, invest very little, because of their low market value, and promote a healthy cooperation between them, using the principles of fair trade. If the companies succeed, you’d only spend a few dollars compared to more established companies, and some work from your employees, who would be following them closely.”

Victor was suddenly very interested, and we discussed the pros and cons of my fair trade concept as we ate.

After dessert, the band stopped playing the easy listening tune and started playing some songs the guests could dance to. Mostly jazz, among other genres. Me and Victor sat at our tables, nursing our drinks.

“Do you want to dance?” Victor asked.

“You’re aware the minute you step on that dance floor, Miss Bates is going to hunt you down?”

“Not if I go with you.” He pressed.

“Aren’t you a bit tall to be my dance partner?” I teased, glancing sideways at him.

“I’ll dance on my knees. Come on.” Aretha Franklin’s Say a little prayer for you was being played.

The song alone would be enough to make me jump from my seat, if Victor wasn’t already dragging me to the dance floor. The height difference wasn’t as much as I expected, he was a few centimeters shorter than my brother, and we used to dance all the time. Still, Victor lowered his head a bit, probably to make me feel more comfortable.

“You’re a good dancer.” I said, seeing how naturally and effortlessly he made me twirl in his arms.

“You too.” He smiled. “I’m surprised you didn’t step on any of my toes yet.”

I rolled my eyes at him, but still laughed. I noticed Miss Bates was dancing with someone else, but coming near us. Victor held me tight, as if to show her he wasn’t letting go of me any time soon.

The music ended, and another started. When we dance, by Sting. A much slower and intimate one.

“Do you want to go back to the table?” I asked, a bit self-conscious.

“No, just this one. It’ll be suspicious if we leave now.” He said, holding me close.

I put my arms around his neck and he rested his hands on the middle of my back.

“Ok, I’m going to do you a solid. Just because I’m actually having a lot of fun.” I said, looking serious at him. He returned my look with a curious expression. “Lower your hands on my back. Just a little bit.”

He lowered his hands slowly.

“Like this?” He whispered, his eyes on mine.

“Yes. Now bring your face closer to mine.” I instructed again. He lowered his head obediently, his breath trickling my noise. For a moment I forgot what I was about to do, but I quickly regained my senses. I kissed him on the cheek. An innocent kiss, but enough to show we had some intimacy. To my dismay, Victor suddenly turned his face, kissing me full on the lips.

And at that moment, I was no longer pretending. The softness of his lips, the warmth of his body, the softness of his hands on my back and his scent were all things that were causing me to melt slowly into the kiss. For a moment I forgot I was kissing my boss, that days ago I was about to quit LFG because I hated his guts, and the way he was absolutely obnoxious. It was like I was entering a new dimension of Victor, much different than the one that usually presented itself. For a moment, I imagined that he was enjoying the kiss too, and that brought happiness to my heart.

For a very brief moment.

I broke the kiss trying not to look startled or flustered, like it had been the most natural thing in the world.

“I’m sorry. It wasn’t meant to go that way.” I said, feeling my face starting to burn.

“Don’t.” Victor whispered. “Don’t apologize.”

The music stopped and he let go of me.

“Do you want to go back to the hotel?” Victor’s voice sounded tired all of the sudden. I was feeling tired too.

“Yes, we have a big day tomorrow, we should go.”

While we were outside waiting for the car, Miss Bates approached us.

“Leaving so soon?” She asked.

“We have to work tomorrow.” Victor answered flatly.

“It was very nice to see you.” Miss Bates held my hands as she said it. “I’m happy for both of you, it’s nice to see Victor finally found love, he is usually such a lonely bird. And I can tell it’s true love, by the way he looks at you.”

“Thank you.” I answered, blushing.

The car arrived and we got in, saying goodbye.

“Not a sore loser. She took it with class.” I said, impressed.

“Well, we didn’t give her much of an option.” He answered, his voice soft.

“And apparently you are a very good actor, stealing glances and whatnot.” I joked.

“I have my moments.” He smiled softly.

We were silent until we reached the hotel, too tired to talk about anything.

Back in my room, all alone, I replayed the entire evening in my mind. I absentmindedly licked my lips. I could still taste him.

[mcsstydia]

Nervous -Chris Evans

request: ‘Hi can you please write a Chris Evans one, you’re originally from California but you’re meeting his family for the first time and you’re somewhat nervous thanks!’ didn’t really get the california part but yeah 

prompt: you are a nervoud wreck meeting Chris’ family for the first time, bevcause maybe you plan your future with him

pairing: chris x reader 

warnings: implied smut, but nothing serious really

A/N: Chris Evans can like.....get it

not yet proof read

Masterlist in bio!

Today was the day. 

The day you met Chris’ family for the first time.

You already felt nauseous as Chris awoke you with planting kisses on your face. Although feeling slightly unwell, you couldn’t help but giggle. One the one hand, due to his beard tickling your face, on the other, because you always felt like a teenager in love for the first time when Chris was around.

You felt him smiling against the skin on your neck. “Morning, love,”, he mumbled into the crook of your neck, burrying his head there afterwards. This grown ass man and the weight that came with that well trained body of his was squishing you under its weight.

“Chris!”, you squealed. “I can’t breathe!”, you brought out before you gathered your whole strength and pushed him off of you. He let you push him off and rolled to your side. In a play fight he took seriously, you would never have the chance to defeat him.

Chris lay on his side, his head on one of his strong hands, grinning at you, not saying a word. “What?”, you smiled, hitting him playfully. “I love you,”, he smiled. Your eyes practically lit up with joy as you grinned at his statement.

Chris and you had only been dating for a good four months, but the both of you had been openly talking about your feelings from the beginning. You had been falling for him since the first time you had met and Chris had felt the exact same thing. Those two facts contributed to you telling each other the bis three words pretty quickly.

But your relationship developing more quickly than others in no way meant that you were rushing into this relationship. All your feelings, and everything you did was genuine and the both of you were as happy as you had ever been.

“I love you too,”, you smile, leaning down to him and kissing his lips gently. You pulled away after a short kiss and Chris immediately pouted at the lack of affection. 

“C’mon, Chris. We have a lot to do before your family arrives,”, you stated, taking his hand and attempted to pull him out of the bed. With one short tug, he had you falling into the bed and right into his arms again. “I believe we have time for something else before we prepare anything, don’t we, love?”, he smirked.

Four hours later, Chris and you were in the kitchen, cooking for eleven people, including Chris’ parents, his brother, his two sisters and the kids and husband of his sister.

“We would have had a lot more tim if you had let me get out of bed, you know?”, you said, half playfully, half seriously. You head turned in his direction when you heard a playful scoff. The smile on your lips vanished as your gaze fell upon the clock. “Oh god, your family’s supposed to be here in half an hour and I’m not even dressed!”, you called out.

Panic rose up into your chest and your breathing picked up quite a bit. You wanted to leave a good impression on Chris’ family and now you would look like you’ve just come out of bed. Chris immediately noticed your worries and came up to you. 

“Darling, hey, love, look at me,”, he calmly said, taking your hands into his, rubing circles on your skin. Your gaze found his and you immediately relaxed a little. “they’re going to love you no matter how you look,”, he stated, kissing your forehead softly. “but, you can go dress, I got this,”, he prposed. 

“No, that’s sweet of you, but the fact that we’re late is my fault as much as it is yours,”, you responded. He shook his head, chuckling lowly. “Y/N, I’m serious, I’ve got this. I know how important this is to you, so go ahead and dress and do your make-up just as you planned to do. We’ve got this,”, he said, one of his hands cupping your cheek. “Right, Dodger?”, he called out for his dog. 

The both of you looked to your left, where Dodger was expectingly waiting for something. You chuckled and looked back at Chris. “You serious?”, you mumbled. He nodded calmly and smiled at you. “Of course,” “I’ll hurry,”, you promised. Chris laughed. “Yeah sure you will,”, he smiled. “I love you,”, you whispered before giving his lips a peck and running upstairs. 

“Love you too!”, Chris called after you. 

Fifteen minutes later, you hurried downstairs again, and were met with Chris giving the food one last touch. You were impressed. You wrapped your arms around him from behind and placed a kiss on his back. “This good looking and a cook? Husband material,”, you joked, which made him laugh. He turned in your hug and wrapped his arms around you once you faced each other.

His eyes went up and down your outfit as much as they could in this position. “You look gorgeous,”, he complimented you and you grinned up at him in response. “Now it’s your turn, Evans. Go get changed while I watch the food,”, you demanded. 

Of course, you had to help this giant baby pick out what he was going to wear. Once he was fully dressed, you already heard the door bell ring. You looked at your boyfriend in utter horror. “Oh god, oh god, oh god. I’m gonna die, I’m gonna-”, you started rambling, but Chris interrupted you. “Darling,”, he said, getting your attention. 

He leaned in, kissing you passionately and making the thoughts in your head dissolve into nothingness. He had that kind of affect on you. And he knew it damn well.

“I’m here, allright?”, he asked after softly pulling away. You got so lost in the blue of his eyes and the calmness of his words that you could only nod. “All right,”, Chris said, taking your hand in his and then walking down the stairs. 

Chris opened the door and in came his whole family. They all greeted him lovingly before introducing themselves to you and hugging you sweetly. You were slowly calming down once everyone was inside and everyone was seated in Chris’ livingroom. 

After eating together, you were much more calm and you began to love his family. Currently, you sat next to Carly, one of Chris’ sisters. The both of you each had a wine glass in your hands as you talked. You watched Chris play with his niece and nephews as you talked. 

Carly soon followed your gaze and grinned knowingly. “So, you’re really head over heels, huh?”, she asked, grinning. You were sightly taken aback by the question but smiled nontheless. “Yeah, you could say that,”, you asnwered as you gaze yet again drifted to your boyfriend.

Chris soon felt your gaze on him and looked up. Your gazes met and you looked at each other lovingly before he was tackled to the ground by one of his nephews. 

You giggled quietly and turned to Carly again. She had watched the whole scenario as well. “You know,”, she began. “I obviously know Chris all his life,”, she continued. “And he never once looked at someone the way he looks at you.”, she stated.

Your eyes involuntary widened at her statement. “What?”, you gulped. Your gaze fell on your boyfriend again, laughing with the kids. Of course, you were hoping your relationship was going to last, but you didn’t expect to much. After all, he could practically date every girl that walked upon this earth.

Chris’ sister nodded while taking a sip of her drink. “Are you sure about that? I mean-”, you started, but she interrupted your thoughts. “Sweetheart, believe me. I’m pretty sure you won’t be able to get rid of this one anymore.”, she added. You thought about her statement as you watched Chris and it soon accured to you, that you didn’t want to get rid of him, at all.

Around nine in the evening, Chris’ family had left, leaving only the two of you and Dodger. Chris wrapped his arms around you from behind and lay his head on your shoulder, kissing your neck softly. “See?”, he mumbled. “Wasn’t so bad after all, was it?”, he asked. You shook your head and closed your eyes, trying to relax in Chris’ embrace.

“Why were you so nervous about this, anyway?”, he asked. You turned in his grasp and looked up at him. And he had that look, that look that told you you could tell him anything. The look that had told you you two belonges together from the beginning.

“Because I know how much your family means to you. And I didn’t wanna screw things up with them because..”, you hesitated, your gaze drifted to your hands around his neck before meeting his gaze again. “Because I don’t wanna let go of you, Evans. Ever.”, you admitted. His eyes lit up at your statement. 

“How convenient,”, he said, leaning down to you, foreheads pressed against each other. “’Cause I’m not planning on letting you go, either,”, he said, making your heart do a flip. You grinned up at him before pulling him down into a kiss. 

“Also,”, he said, pulling away from the kiss. “I want one.”, he demanded. You looked at him in confusion. “What?”, you chuckled. “A kid.”, he said. “Why are you telling me this?”, you asked, laughing lightly. “Well, if we’re planning on getting married then we might as well plan on being parents.”, he explained.

A weird, warm feeling suddenly spread through your body as your boyfriend told you his future plans, which included you. You didn’t think you had ever been this happy. 

“Then let’s go try for one, shall we?”, you giggled, leading him upstairs.

[ncitytexts]

Flutter.

SUMMARY: you never knew the reason why your heart always fluttered with the boy you had grown up with all your life.

PAIRING: jeno x fem!reader

GENRE: fluff! neighbor!jeno & bestfriend!jeno; friends to lovers au

WORDS: 2.3k.. like exactly 2.3k

WARNINGS: like. a speck of angst in the middle.

A/N: it kinda follows the american school system bc that’s the ... only school system i know LOL but alSO i usually write only soft hours aaaa but lets start off with my first fic with the one n only ... lee jeno hehe

Ever since you moved into your new neighborhood, only one person pops into your mind: Lee Jeno.

He was there when you first moved in, offering you a cookie his mom baked as you timidly clung on to your dad’s leg.

“Go on, sweetie. He’s going to be your future neighbor!”

Slowly approaching the long-limbed, yet small boy, he quickly took your hand in his and started to shake it. “Hello! My name’s Jeno. What’s your name?”

Little did you know that your encounter with Jeno would turn out to be the first of many, many other ones.

You had just turned six years old, and you were going to start your first day of first grade soon. Your mom insisted that you take the bus, calling it a way to  “make new friends”, but being the introvert that you were, it was your worst nightmare. Lightly tugging at your backpack, your mom said, “Come on, sweetheart, you’ll be okay!” You held back tears, and pecked your mom on the cheek before stepping on the bus.

The bus driver gave you a kind smile, but that did nothing to ease your nervousness. You walked down the cramped aisle filled with legs that stuck out and glittery backpacks and looked for lone seats; instead, you spot your neighbor, Jeno. At the same time, he spots you too, and gives you one of his iconic crescent eye smiles. 

“Come sit here, Y/N! We can be seat buddies for school!”

“O-o-okay!”

That was the first time Lee Jeno made your heart flutter.

You’re now twelve, but instead of your first day of first grade, it’s your first day of middle school. Jeno not only had found a new group of friends, but also became one of the biggest heartthrobs in the entire school. He had become good looking and was so tall that he towered over you at times. But still, he never forgot to hang out with you. He often came over to your house most nights to play games with you on your older brothers’ game consoles. He always went on ice cream runs with you and your mom, always yelling to his parents that “he’s off to get ice cream with Mrs. Y/L/N again!” Most importantly, he still rode the bus to and from school with you, insisting that he was your “eternal seat buddy”. 

However, when you stepped on the bus this morning, he wasn’t there in your usual seats, so you ending up walking to your locker alone in the morning.

“I ... can’t ... get ... this ... stupid ... combi-”

All of a sudden, another pair of hands land on your lock, and you look up to find the one and only, Lee Jeno.

“I’m sorry that I was gone this morning ... what’s your combination? I’m sure I could open it.” Jeno says, while giving you another one of his genuine smiles.

Smiling at his genuine willingness to help, you say, “Trust me, Jeno. I might have a better chance at going to the office instead. My dad literally scribbled it down this morning and it could be passed off as a kid’s handwriting. Plus, what if you’re late for class?”

Jeno lets out a laugh and says, “Don’t worry about my classes! Can you read out the combination for me then?” 

“I think it should be 29-10-35,” you hesitantly say, looking down at the crumpled piece of paper in your hands, attempting to decipher your dad’s rushed handwriting. Jeno questioningly looks at you and snatches the paper out of your hands to stick it up to the closest window, as if he believed the sunlight would help him read the messy, loopy handwriting better. Suddenly, he lets out a “Ha!” and hands you back the paper. Jeno turns back to the lock on your locker while whispering, “It’s actually 28,” Click. “19,” Click. “36.” Click.

With one swift motion, he was able to get both the lock in his hands and your locker door wide open. You glance at the nearest clock and it reads 7:58 AM, giving you two minutes before class starts.

“See? I told you I would open it on time. Now, hurry up and get your books! I don’t think all the girls in this school would be fond of you if you were to be late to homeroom with me.” Jeno says with a smirk before holding his hand out to you, ready to sprint to class with you hand-in-hand.

That cocky boy, you thought. Grabbing your textbook and slamming your locker shut, you stuck your lock back on and placed your hand on Jeno’s.

The moment Jeno whisked you away to homeroom with your hand in his is the second time he made your heart flutter.

The ripe age of sixteen has arrived, and your friendship with Jeno has altered in ways that you didn’t expect. For one, Jeno got his license earlier than most kids in the junior class as he had an earlier birthday while your birthday was stuck in the summer, so you weren’t able to get it as quickly. So instead of riding the bus every morning with Jeno, he swore that he would take you to school every morning, which of course, was approved by your parents immediately. Two, junior year was taking a toll on the both of you, so your nightly visits through each other’s windows were shortened to once a week. However, today you had promised Jeno that you would meet him at his house for an AP Biology test study session.

You knocked on his door three times, one time with a pause, proceeded by two quick ones. With this knock, Jeno is sure that you’re the one on the other side of the door, and not another girl from school asking for his number.

“Ah! Y/N! Ready to grind on some bio?” 

Looking back up into his eyes, you lose balance, not realizing that you blanked out and didn’t even notice the door opening. You lean forward a little in an attempt to regain your balance, but your knees lock instead. Jeno steadies you by holding onto your waist, and says, “You okay?” You nod almost instantly, cheeks reddening out of embarrassment.

You take off your shoes before entering Jeno’s house and you’re instantly greeted by his mom. “Oh! Y/N! Jeno didn’t tell me you were coming,” she says while wiping off her hands with a towel, “I would’ve made you guys my neighborhood famous cookies!” She winks jokingly and you respond, “Your cookies are just too good, Mrs. Lee. I was all over them when you brought them over last week!” with a smile as Mrs. Lee approaches you for a hug. 

“Hey! Don’t think I’ll let you steal her heart from me!”

Before you can give Mrs. Lee a nice “I’m-glad-to-see-you-again” hug, you turn around to find Jeno leaning against the stairs. Realizing he saw the entire encounter, you smirk at him, saying, “And what if I do? Your mom is just so sweet!” You can hear Mrs. Lee laugh behind you as Jeno walks up to the both of you and says, “You’ll have to steal my heart before you can steal my mom’s!”

When Jeno said that, it was the third time he made your heart flutter.

Jeno then takes your hand and says, “Okay, mom, I’m gonna go study upstairs with Y/N. We have our AP Biology test soon and I don’t think you want us getting two’s. Bye! Love you!” Mrs. Lee responds with a “Mhm.” before Jeno leads you back up to his room, with your hand still in his. 

Once you step foot into his room, a wave of memories hit you. 

“Tsk. Y/N, are you climbing through my window again?”

Midway through his window, you say, “Sorry, I’m home alone again. And I keep hearing weird noises! Jeno, I’m just scared.” Jeno looks up from his school project that’s scattered all over his desk with a glue stick in one hand and a pair of scissors in the other. “So, what do you want me to do? Cut them apart with scissors? Snip snip!” 

After you helped Jeno with his Egyptian project for his presentation on Monday, you found the both of you staring at his ceiling, adorned by glow-in-the-dark plastic stars and planets. You began to fall asleep while Jeno was talking, and the last thing you remember is Mrs. Lee whispering to you that “your parents are here to get you”.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N? Oh my god, she’s a goner.” Jeno says while vigorously trying to snap his fingers in front of your face. You grab his hand and say, “Stop it, you dork, I need more help on cellular respiration. I can’t remember any of the products again.” Jeno makes a sound in agreement and you feel buzzes coming from your phone in your back pocket.

[2:03 PM] juuuudy🧚🏻‍♀️: hey y/n where are you rn?

[2:03 PM] diane💃🏻: yeah where you at bro? let’s go get ice cream!

[2:03 PM] y/n: oh i’m @ jeno’s rn for ap bio. guys i cannot fail

[2:04 PM] juuuudy🧚🏻‍♀️: WHat YOU’RE AT JENOS

[2:04 PM] diane💃🏻: WAIT DO U MEAN T HE LEE JENO

[2:04 PM] diane💃🏻: BRO WTF GET US HIS NUMBER

[2:04 PM] juuuudy🧚🏻‍♀️: ^^^ agreed!!!!!1

[2:05 PM] y/n: guys i can’t just give y’all his number thats just creepy

[2:05 PM] juuuudy🧚🏻‍♀️: bro wtf.... do u like him or smth?

Before you can type out a reply to Judy’s text, Jeno whisks your phone away from your hands. “Hey! Give me my phone back!” you say, trying to get it from his hands, but his height allows him to keep it held high above his head while he attempts to read the texts that you sent. All of a sudden, he stops resisting you and hands your phone back. Confused, you’re prepared to tease him as to why he gave into you, but you’re interrupted by Jeno saying, “Do you like me?”

Shocked and unable to answer, you were only able to spit out an “I don’t know.” You had never felt this nervous before, as you’ve never thought of it that way. But perhaps, you do have feelings for him. Jeno, clearly confused and also unable to answer, simply says with a straight face, “Let’s just get to work on AP Bio. You said you needed help anyways,” before turning back to his desk.

Instead of a fluttering heart, your heart broke into a million pieces.

But what you didn’t know is that he really had just hoped that you said you liked him.

It’s been two years after he asked if you liked him, and it’s never left your mind. Jeno ended up acting like nothing had happened anyways.

Now, both you and Jeno are eighteen. Your graduation is set to happen tomorrow afternoon, and you’re getting a whole wave of nervousness running throughout your body. Trying on dress after dress, Jeno sits in your room clearly bored and swiping mindlessly on his phone. When you finally find a V-neck dress that’s just the right length and adorned with a floral pattern, you step out of your bathroom to show Jeno.

Noticing that his eyes are still glued to his phone, you say, “Jeno? Hello?” He still doesn’t look up, so you decide to spit out nicknames you knew he wouldn’t like. “Jeno-jaem! Loser! Momma’s boy!” is the three nicknames that finally get his attention.

“Dude, you know I hate that nick-”

Jeno’s mouth gapes open as he looks you up and down. You notice his ears getting slightly red when you say, “So? Is this the dress I should wear?” Stuttering, Jeno replies, “U-u-uh, yeah.” You look at him suspiciously and mumble, “Okay, I guess not then.” As you turn back to the bathroom to change, he quickly grabs your hand and says, “What I meant is that you look beautiful in it. Absolutely stunning in it.” 

You can feel yourself blush. His hand is still holding yours, and after a few seconds of silence, you feel yourself suddenly asking the same daring question he asked two years ago.

“Do you like me?”

Expecting a rejection, you let go of his hand and turn back around. However, this time, he pulls your hand back into a tight hug and says, “Maybe I do. And maybe I’ve liked you since the first time I met you.”

It’s finally the day of your graduation, and you’re lucky enough to be sitting next to Jeno. While sitting on white chairs lined up across the stadium’s field, you can feel all eyes on you and Jeno. Ever since last night, Jeno has been close to you, making all the girls around you become filled with instant jealousy and envy.

You look down in your lap and play with your fingers nervously when you hear Jeno say, “Don’t worry about them. I know you think they’re all looking at you, but if it makes you feel better, you’re the only one I’m looking at.” Looking back up into his eyes, you give him the biggest smile accompanied with a blush.

Once the speeches are given and the diplomas are handed out, the principal makes the final, iconic line said at every graduation. Immediately afterwards, the stadium is filled with cheers and yells, as you and Jeno throw your graduation caps up into the air. You both stand up facing each other when he finally makes the bold move to take your face in his hands and connect your plush lips with his.

His simple, yet loving action was the fourth time your heart fluttered for him; except, this time, you know why it was fluttering.

[kujo1597]

Reconnecting

Good golly this ended up being longer than I expected. I started writing it to attach to a silly little mock-up I made of Lake’s Twitter account and it became a thing. Enjoy! :D

-

Lake sat in front of the Cosay family computer with the Twitter sign-up screen open. Jesse was behind them watching, at their request.

“So the e-mail address is easy, whatever, but what do I put for my username?” Lake pondered out loud.

“Oh I know!” Jesse said enthusiastically, then as he spoke he moved his hand through the air with a dramatic flair. “Your username should be Chrome Compatriot.”

Lake snorted and started typing again. “That’s terrible.”

“Well you don’t have to use it.”

“Nah, it’s too terrible not to use.”

Lake typed in their username and continued the rest of the signup process. Then they waited slightly impatiently for the confirmation e-mail.

“So do you know Tulip’s name on here?” Jesse asked. 

“Of course, I was there when it was made.”

Jesse drummed his fingers on the back of Lake’s chair. “Are you nervous at all about contacting her?”

“That’s what you’re here for,” Lake said with a small smile. “Moral support. I’m more nervous about Tulip not believing me than anything.”

“You’ll just have to make it super obvious who you are then,” Jesse hummed in thought. “Like, make your icon a picture of yourself, and put in your description ‘hashtag no filter, hashtag, actually chrome’ just to make it extra clear.”

The confirmation e-mail arrived, Lake clicked on the provided link.

“I’m not putting hashtags in my profile. Tulip’s not stupid, just the picture will be enough.”

Lake started to edit their profile and hit another snag with their description.

“Jesse’s not wrong about making it obvious in my description,” Lake thought. 

They tapped on a random key in thought. Pronouns, sure, that’s a given. Name, why not? Then it hit them.

“Lake, formerly MT,” Jesse read out what Lake quickly typed.

“I’ll remove the formerly part after I contact Tulip,” Lake said, then added more to their profile, nonbinary, she/they, and the most important part, “Free from The Train.”

“Ah smart,” Jesse chuckled. “‘The Train’ sounds so ominous though.”

“It kinda is if you think about it. This strange train that goes on forever, kidnapping people with personal problems.” Lake then scrolled though multiple pictures of themself to use as an icon. “Wow I look uncomfortable in all of these. I want Tulip to know I’m happy.”

“You’ll get better at having your picture taken,” Jesse watched the pictures fly by. “See, you’re actually smiling in this one you took by the lake.”

Lake took a closer look at the photo, seeing that they did look genuinely happy. It was taken right after Jesse’s dad gave them a cool old jacket of his. It was way too big on them of course.

Feeling satisfied with their new profile Lake saved all the changes and then started following a few accounts. Starting with Jesse. That way they seem more like a real person when they do contact Tulip.

“Thanks for helping me out with all this,” Lake said. “I think I’ll DM Tulip after I give my account a little life.”

“It’s no problem, good luck with the Tulip thing,” Jesse rubbed the back of his neck. “And if you want me to give you more moral support when you reach out. Just ask.”

Lake smiled as Jesse walked out of the room. They continued to do things on Twitter, and eventually made a change to their profile. 

Blame @Jesse_Dracula for the username.

“I wonder how long it’ll take for him to see that,” they thought with a laugh. 

Lake tweeted out a couple things, which they found pretty awkward. There wasn’t much to say. Freedom was great and all, but life in Jesse’s town hasn’t been extremely interesting for the average person. A reinforced bed frame was cool for Lake, but was it for anybody else? No.

Tweeting was definitely the biggest hurdle aside from contacting Tulip. Especially once Lake realized that her DMs were turned off for random people.

“Of course,” Lake said with a groan. “It’s like that by default.”

They agonized over what to tweet out to Tulip. A DM was private, a Tweet was not. “Hey, this is your former reflection. I got off the train.” Wouldn’t really work in a public setting. 

“Recognize this face?” Would be kinda creepy.

Lake wondered if they sent Jesse out of the room too soon.

They bit the bullet and Tweeted to Tulip, “This is pretty weird, but not as weird as The Train. We know each other.”

Before Lake could even think too hard about what they typed they sent the Tweet.

“Too late to back out now.”

-

After coming home from a study session with Mikayla Tulip scrolled through her Twitter and saw two notifications. Which was a bit unusual, she didn’t have very many followers. One new notification was a strange Tweet from somebody who looked like they were made out of metal, the other was of them following her. 

The Tweet mentioned “The Train” which really stood out to Tulip so she checked out the person’s profile.

[image is of Lake’s Twitter profile]

A couple things interested Tulip, mainly this person having “formerly M.T.” in their bio, but also another mention of The Train. 

Tulip laughed when she saw Lake’s most recent retweet, it was from the “Jesse_Dracula” mentioned in their bio. 

“Hey! @ChromeCompatriot sounds cool you know, like a superhero”

Obviously those two were friends. 

Tulip clicked on Lake’s profile picture to expand it and took a good look at their face. It became completely obvious that this was indeed her former reflection. Wow, what a change. They look happy.

So Tulip followed Lake back.

The DM was pretty much instant. Tulip had wanted to quickly grab a snack but clearly Lake was excited to talk.

Lake: I don’t know where to start! I guess, how are you?

Tulip: I’m good. Definitely didn’t expect to hear from you today.

Lake: Yea. Just figured we could catch up. Oh right. I can remove formerly M.T. from my profile now. I only had it so you knew who I am.

Tulip: Do you have a Discord too? We could voice chat and catch up that way. 

Lake: I don’t have Discord. I could sign up later. Dinner’s soon so I can’t right now. 

Tulip looked at her clock, it was already past 7PM.

Tulip: Where are you?

Lake: Arizona

Lake: I wasn’t really thinking when I messaged you. I can quickly type out what happened tho.

Tulip: Sure. And then I can update you.

It took a while for Lake to go over all the details, and Tulip wished that she was voice chatting with them because it sounded like an interesting story. Meeting Jesse, a deer with magic powers! Running from the flecs, a cult, One-One’s role as conductor.

Lake: And Jesse was so upset that he left the train without me that it picked him up again. One-One couldn’t figure out how to solve his problem since I couldn’t leave the train without a number. 

Tulip: Really? So how’d you get off?

Lake: Simple. I reflected Jesse’s number on my hand. 

Tulip: Good thinking

Lake: It’s so good to be free! Kind of boring tho. But whatever I need a little boring right now.

Lake: So what have you been up to?

“What have I been up to?” Tulip thought. “Oh wait, Lake didn’t see how I got off the train.”

Tulip: After I helped you out of The Chrome Car I went to a car that was a kids’ playground like they have at

“Hold on,” Tulip searched her memory. “Do those places even have mirrors?”

Tulip: Well it was a kids playground. You’ve never seen one. There was a stuffed rabbit named Khaki Bottoms and I had a break for a bit.

Tulip: Then “the conductor” showed up and tore the place apart.

Typing the part that came next proved hard for Tulip. It all worked out in the end, Atticus was turned back to normal. But...

So she decided to leave it out as she continued to go over what all Lake missed on the train. 

Lake: Wow.

Lake: So an old lady kicked One-One out of the engine room. 

Tulip: I wonder what she’s doing?

Lake: Don’t know. I just know about the Apex gang. I hope they run into her so they can smarten up.

Tulip: Right them.

The next reply took a while to show up. Tulip figured Lake was eating dinner. 

Lake: A lot of them are little kids.

Lake: I hate them.

Lake: Anyway how’s life off the train going?

Tulip: My parents were really worried about me since I was gone for so long.

Tulip: They wouldn’t let me go anywhere alone.

Lake: Fair.

Tulip: Eventually I got to go to game design camp. It was great!

Lake: Cool

Tulip recalled how sick of programming Lake sounded so she decided to not go too into detail and bore them. 

Tulip: School’s been school. It was nice being around people again.

Tulip: But I got sick of it really fast.

Lake: I’m going to school too.

Lake: It’s not terrible.

Tulip: You’re going to school??

The rest of the night was spend chatting about school and just general life stuff.

It was nice catching up.

[motleyfuckingcruee]

Skinny Love (Mick Mars x reader)

Summary:

From the prompts list: "I've seen the way you look at me when you think I don't notice."

Requested:

Anon

Warnings:

Fluff and smut

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!!

COMMENT IF YOU WANT TO BE ON A TAGLIST! OR GO TO MY BIO TO ADD YOURSELF TO ONE!

//

Being Tommy’s little sister is hard work. Especially when he wants you with him almost 24/7. He takes you everywhere. At one point, he had you stand outside the bathroom when he was using it. He’d make you talk to him while he was in there. He even had you move in with him when he moved into the Crue House. You thought it was ridiculous, but what could you do? Tommy’s more overprotective of you since he’s the one that protected you from the assholes at your school.

You were badly bullied for your entire school career. Only because you loved books and wore glasses. A stupid reason to get bullied, but it made those jerks feel better about themselves. You couldn’t help it that you didn’t look like those valley girls. You didn’t have blonde hair or the perfect body. To this day, you’re still very insecure about your appearance. Athena, thankfully, didn’t have trouble with the bullies. The jerks LOVED her. And you couldn’t blame them. Your younger sister is beautiful, and she knows it.

You’re only ten months younger than Tommy, so you guys got put in the same year. You and Vince became really close before you three graduated. Turns out, being close with the blonde helped the guys out a lot.

After Tommy found Nikki and Mick, they obviously needed a lead singer. You knew that Vince had a great voice, you just didn't know if he'd want to be in the band. Last you heard, he was in a cover band named Rock Andi. With a little bit of teasing from you, you managed to get him to join the band they later named, Mötley Crüe.

You'd grown close with the four boys, since you were forced to move in with them. You won't tell Tommy, but you have a huge crush on the older guitarist. It's not THAT big of an age gap anyways. . .just twelve years. You know that Tommy won't let you be with Mick, no matter how much you beg him.

Besides, there's no way Mick would like you like that anyway. He probably just thinks of you as a kid. And you definitely don't look like the kind of girl for him. You're too shy.

Today the guys decided to go out to a strip club. They won't be back until long after midnight. You doubt any of them will even come home. They told you just to send Mick over to the club, The Seventh Veil, when he comes by. You told them you would, then laid on the couch to take a long nap.

Mick nearly scared you to death when you woke up and he was sitting by your feet.

"What the hell?" You ask, still feeling tired.

"Sorry," Mick says in his quiet voice. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"Well you did you asshole," You grumble, pulling yourself into the sitting position.

"Someone's grumpy," Mick chuckles, leaning back on the couch cushions with a grunt.

You frown at him, knowing his problems with his back. He turns to look back at you, and you change your expression. You know he hates getting sympathy.

"I'M grumpy, Mr. I-Hate-The-World-And-Everything-In -It?"

He laughs. "That's one long name. I don't think it'll fit on my driver's license."

You scoff, crossing your arms. Mick looks away, shifting uncomfortably. He grunts again, looking at the movie that's playing on the TV. You look at him, more worried than before. He seems to be in more pain than usual today.

"Stop it."

You're taken aback at his sudden outburst. "S-Stop what?" You stutter out.

"I've seen the way you look at me when you think I don't notice," He responds, turning to look at you again. "I don't need your sympathy."

You sigh. "I-I know, Mick. I just want to help."

Just then, a wicked idea pops into your mind. You glance back at the clock. The other guys won't be back for hours. You don't know if Mick'll like it or not, but you can try.

"You can't help, (Y/N)."

You don't answer. You stand up, walking to stand in front of the guitarist. You then gently sit on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Mick looks up at you with an alarmed expression. "W-What are you-?"

You cut him off by pressing your lips to his neck. "I'm helping ease the pain for a little bit."

Your hands slide down to the hem of his shirt, lightly tugging on it. You continue to kiss and nip at his neck. A small moan escapes his lips causing a smile to appear on your lips.

"W-We c-can't," He stutters out.

You pull away, looking into his eyes. "It's okay. They won't be back for hours."

You reach your hands down until you’re palming him through his tight jeans. He moans again.

“Think you can make it to the bedroom?” You ask, your voice a lot deeper than usual.

“I know I can,” Mick responds, standing up with his hands underneath your ass to support you.

He finally connects your lips to his as he walks down the hallway to the small room that you have to yourself. Mick lays you down on the bed gently, disconnecting your lips temporarily to remove your shirt. He sits back for a moment, admiring how you look. His eyes widen as he realizes you aren’t wearing a bra. You take matters into your own hands. You lift up your hips and pull off your jeans and panties.

Mick almost looks starstruck as you reach down, your fingers playing with your clit. Mick starts to take off his clothes. His eyes never leave your hand. You moan loudly as you finally insert a finger.

“Mick,” You moan, using your other hand to palm your breast.

You start to roll your hips, causing you to moan even louder. Mick takes your hands away from your body, pinning them above you.

“That’s my job, sweetheart,” Mick says, inserting a finger into you without any warning.

You moan again, wanting to touch him. Mick inserts another finger, pumping in and out. He starts to curl his fingers every time he goes back in. Mick removes his fingers, letting go of your hands to move down your body. He kisses down your breasts to your entrance. He then pushes your thighs, spreading your legs even wider. He kisses your clit, then starts to move his tongue in and out of you.

“Mick,” You moan again, weaving your hair through the guitarists hair.

You wrap your legs around his head, rolling your hips against his mouth. You’re so overwhelmed with pleasure. Who knew Mick would be so good with his tongue?

Finally you come undone on his tongue. He moves back up with a grin on his face.

“Do you have a condom, baby?” Mick asks, his voice low.

You nod, reaching over to grab one from inside the nightstand. You rip it open with your teeth, then roll it onto his length. He doesn’t give you any warning as he thrusts into you. He doesn’t let you adjust before pounding into you. You both start to moan like pornstars. Mick sucks and bites on your neck and boobs.

You both cum together, making Mick collapse on top of you afterwards. He pulls out, taking off the condom and throwing it into the trash can beside your bed. He lays beside you on his side, facing you. You turn to face him, a smile on your face.

“Who knew Tommy’s little sister has had sex?” Mick laughs. “I would’ve thought he had you locked up all the time.”

You shrug, still smiling. “He does leave the house for hours on end.”

Mick laughs, resting his hand on your bare thigh. He looks at you with a loving expression. You can only hope he wanted this to happen like you did.

“You’re so beautiful, (Y/N),” He says.

You blush. “I’m not, but thank you.”

“Don’t say that. You really are beautiful. You look a hell of a lot better than Tommy,” Mick laughs.

“Fair enough,” You giggle.

The both of you grow silent. Then Mick speaks up.

“Will you go on a date with me?”

You’re startled at first, but then you kiss him. “Yes,” You you say, feeling insanely happy.

“Good. I’d feel awful if you just wanted to have sex with me.”

You laugh, kissing him again. This is probably one of the best moments in your life.

Taglist:

All fics: @the--blackdahlia @sugar-content @sharon6713 @siliwanoel @charlyallise @lo-bells @lauravic @livingdeadharley @kawennote09 @ozzypawsbone-princeofbarkness @hllywdwhre @abbysdogcollar @nikkisixxwiththebass @waywardprincess666

Mick: @timeisthewound @nikkifuckinnsixx @twistnet

[hollandroos]

Run To Me; Part Eighteen

Summary: Dad!Mob!Tom. Sequel to BAK but you don’t have to read that one first. If you wish too, the link is in my bio masterlist!! Where old feelings arise but other things get in the way. Whether it’s kids, fears or things from your past coming back to haunt you.

Run To Me: Series Masterlist!

Words: 3.2k

Warnings: Sexual content that doesn’t surpass R16

Notes: Hi! So you may have noticed that my chapters are getting shorter, and that is due to the notes dropping drastically on this fic. That doesn’t mean I’m going to just drop this fic because I do enjoy writing it and I can’t leave my babe's story incomplete!! But it means that the chapters are shortening in length and the storyline is coming to a close. Please remember to leave comments and send asks and lemme know if you’re enjoying it :)

One hand securely placed in yours, breathes– low pants against your neck and toffee coloured curls tickled the side of your face. It was definitely the same shampoo you used that one time you borrowed his bathroom and you welcomed the familiar, slightly musky scent. Everything was intimate. He was touching you still, heart beating profusely against your own chest and you weren’t afraid of the consequences of the situation. Those consequences included falling deeper into your own feelings and spiralling into a repeat of traumatic events.

There was a dull ache on your hips where he’d rested his hands at one point, one that you didn’t think twice about and there had previously been a trail of kisses, soft and loving between your thighs. The blanket, nothing more than a thin sheet now rested around your waist covering the small trail of bite marks along your hip bones.

“How was it?”

Tom's voice was husky but filled with a level of concern that could compete to his voice before you went through with your events. The way he’d asked you repeatedly if this was what you wanted, checking as he touched every part of you and slipped down your body, the way he took care of you with such ease. You had melted into him.

You try to suppress a laugh, swollen lips curling up anyway. “You said that as if I wasn’t just moaning your name two minutes ago.”

“I just want to make sure that I didn’t take it too far, sweet girl,” Tom tells you, floating on cloud nine himself as he continues to decorate the area scattered with colourful hickeys with gentle kisses. “Wanna make sure that you’re okay and not regretting anything.”

“It was perfect, you were perfect.” Your hands come up to brush up against his fluffy curls, brushing them away from his forehead with a gentle hum.

He sighs, forehead warm against yours and you feel the remains of a thin layer of sweat. Tom bites the inside of his lip. “You’re too good to me.”

“C’mere.” You practically complain, doing grabby hands and Tom pulls you closer, almost impossibly close.  “If anything happens, I have the ring. I–I have it and I’ll be wearing it. Remember that”

He halts his movements, the gentle circles he’d previously been rubbing across your arm come to a sudden stop and out of pure shock, Tom tilts his head down so he can look at you, brows furrowed and eyes squinted in confusion.

“You kept the ring?” He asks gently.

You shrug your shoulders as best you can while laying on your side. “Of course I did.” Was your reply, sliding your bottom lip between your teeth.

“I thought you wanted to takes things slow?”

You suppress a laugh. “I threw that out the window the second I threw my shirt off.”

Memories of your activities flash through your brain, memories you hoped you would get to relive sometime soon. But life was unexpected, so, for now, you relied on memories. If you tried hard enough, you could still feel the mattress next to you caving slightly as he cupped the sheets with a deathly grip, hips thrusting into yours at a steady pace. There were probably dents in the wall from where the headboard had smacked against the plaster in a regular pattern.

You could still feel his wet kisses down your jaw, and reminisce while staring at the not deep– but jagged scratches down the skin of his back. Every single touch sent shivers down your spine, goosebumps to rise on your skin and dear god– Toms' arm had done a fine job at keeping your hips flush against the bedding.

“Knowing that you’re wearing that ring would really make things a lot easier.” He says, smirking gently against the pillow.

“You’re just saying that.” You say and yawn, closing your eyes briefly. You swore his bed was the equivalent to a cloud. Soft, plush, and always inviting. “I just want you to know that I’m as serious as you about this and that I’m not going to walk out this time. I’m here for the long run.”

“Hey, it does make me a little happier knowing it’ll be on your finger again. But I’m coming home, I’ll be okay.” A clock ticks away in the corner of the room, competing with Toms hushed words. You brushed a strand of hair away from his eyes.

“It’s just different that it’s your dad this time and not some drug lord or a stranger you’ve worked with once or twice.” You tell him, admitting the words that had been hard to admit to yourself. There was also the fact that Aiden was still alive and you feared his return, despite Toms reassurance that A. Aiden wouldn’t dare and B. He was already onto it.

“I know.” Tom states. “But I doubt my dad would try and seriously hurt me– I mean, he’s wicked but I’m his blood.” Tom stops, bringing your knuckles up to his lips and leaves scattered kisses. “Why are we talking about this now when there are other things we could do?” He smirks, beginning to slide down your body at snail's pace. It was teasing, tauntingly slow. “Let’s make the most of this.”

“C’mon,” You complain, staring down at the head of overgrown curls as they brush against your abdomen. Maybe you were a little needy, and maybe Tom was prepared to give you everything you needed.

“Mummy!”

He shoots up, getting tangled in the sheet and you try not to laugh, tugging it up to your chest with flushed cheeks and amused eyes. Tom wasn’t having it, breathing deeply thanks to the panic that had set in for those few seconds that he was trapped under the blankets while your daughter ran in on her toes, nightdress flowing freely as she ran in, a toy in hand.

“Fuck.” He mutters, cursing under his breath. Luckily Rosie– who now stood on the side of the bed hadn’t heard a thing. Neither of you heard her race down the hall and neither of you had heard the door open. “What’s up pumpkin?”

“Cuddles.” She cracks a cheesy, yet tired grin and puts her arms up, waiting for one of you to lift her.

Looks like your night just kept getting better.

-

The next morning, Tom struggled to get out of bed.

And it wasn’t because he was caught up in a web of sheets, head lodged between two pillows or because your arms were securely wrapped around his torso, Rosie's legs laying on top of him until he was trapped unless he wanted to wake you two up. No, it wasn’t really that, but the fact that he was swarmed with thoughts about not coming back, about not reliving last night and this morning because minutes after Rosie had come in and the two of you had a suitable amount of clothing on, she had lodged her way in between your bodies, more so on Toms chest and had drifted off into a deep sleep after half an hour of poking and prodding and toms cheeks and upper chest.

He struggled to get up because he wanted to take as long as he possibly could to savour every second he had left with the two of you because the outcome of today's events was unknown, and maybe he’d lied to you about his dad being the slightest bit sane to keep you calm, or maybe to keep himself calm. Tom knew one thing, and that was that he barely knew anything right now.

He’d hauled himself up ten minutes later then he should have, untucking the mess of sheets and retucking them around your body, pulling them up to Rosie's waist. He planted a kiss on her forehead before moving to you and she hadn’t stirred in the slightest but you… you pecked an eye open, blinking through the morning blurs and grabbed his hand right before he could disappear on you. Maybe it was because you were still in and out of sleep and it was making you more honest, maybe.

“Tom,” You had stirred, twisting around, swatting strands of hair away from your face. “We love you.”

You’d deal with any consequences later.

Tom didn’t know what to say so instead he strokes your cheek with one hand, leaning down kisses you softly. “I’ll see you later.”

“Right, so here’s the plan.” Tom sprawled the paper out on the table, a selection of dots and markers scattering the wood. Tom placed his pointer finger down harshly, assertively. “We wait for him, no one acts out of place, got it? He’s coming to us.”

Sam furrows his brows, glancing towards Jacob who stood near the back of the group of five. “How will we know when he gets there? I mean, he knows all of the secret entries and he may just rock up at the front doors.”

“I’ve spoken to Z and Jacob, they’ll be on the lookout but only them. Dom has eyes everywhere and they can’t see us acting suspiciously or they’ll pull the plug, Harry shouldn’t even be here, to begin with.” Tom snarled, he was still bitter.

Harry sent his brother a glance, knowing that the boy was still mad about him going behind his back even if in the end, it had a positive impact on the mob. Or at least they hoped that it would and god, for Harry's sake it better. Harry understood that if things were the other way around then he would’ve been mad too, but it didn’t help him feel any less bitter then what he currently felt. Emotions were running wild.

Z nods her head, hands on her hips as she listens more attentively then any of the boys in the room. “We can do this, It’s one of the easiest missions yet. You can trust Jacob and me, Tom.”

The female mobster wore her hair in a tight bun, loose strands falling around her face while the rest was gelled back. A skin-tight tee hugged her from the waist up and a pair of jeans accompanied her, rings and jewels worth thousands decorating her hands and neck. Zendaya– best known by the mob as Z was one of Toms go to people, but also one of the most secretive. She was his dirty little secret, but not in the way that you’re thinking.

Tom went to her when he needed the utmost secret business done, most undercover stuff that not even the brothers could find out about and she never peeped a word. She was sneaky and had a way of doing things that just worked. Something not even Tom understood, but he wasn’t sure that he wanted to ask.

“I have no doubts when it comes to either of you.” Tom glanced between the two, speaking genuinely and they smirk in his direction. They were the only people besides Sam and you that he’d trust with his life– sometimes Harry– currently, Harry was on his shit list.

The twins rolled their eyes, one of them snorted and if Tom were looking then he would’ve known who. Then he hears Harry pipe up.

“What about us?”

The eldest brother squints his eyes, glaring at the two through a hooded gaze. “I have multiple doubts.”

“Hey–”

-

Rosie tapped you on the arm again, watching your stir. She waited until you peaked an eye open, struggling to look up at the four-year old through hooded lashes. She sat cross-legged, wild curls held back by a set of Minnie mouse ears and you smiled- though that wouldn’t last long. You looked at her and felt pride swell in your chest, smiling lightly at the girl that was beyond gorgeous– exceeded smart and radiated good– yet sarcastic energy.

Everything felt okay until you realised that the space beside you was empty and you vaguely remembered waking up to the rustling of sheets around half an hour ago. But that moment was hazy and you were too tired to remember what had happened. Toms' fingers had traced the line of your jaw, lips pressing a butterfly kiss to your forehead. His touch lingered.

“Morning.” You mutter, words muffled as the pillows cover your face. Rosie wasn’t happy with your words, throwing the blanket off of your body and you’re welcomed with a gust of cold air. How that girl sat up, nightgown barely covering her legs and arms, you didn’t know.

“I have my appointment today, it’s the fourteenth.” She tells you, picking with the plaster on her cast. The bruises and cuts that had littered her cheeks had forehead were fading, slowly becoming a less ugly shade of purple and blue. And the cuts were becoming scars– scars that you had to work very hard to make sure she didn’t pick.

“What– oh fuck.” You’re confused for a second before you realise what she means and sit up, blankets pooling on your lap.

“Yeah, fuck.” She replies smartly. Your features go from stressed too hard in less then a second, sending her a glare though you knew it was your fault for swearing in the first place, Rosie smiles innocently.

“Don’t repeat that.” You tell her.

Rosie nods though you knew it wouldn’t be the last of it. The small girl was too consumed with the thought of finally leaving the house for the first time since they’d arrived. She loved the house, there was always something to do but she was itching to get in the car and go for a drive, or go to the park or just get out anywhere where she wasn’t confined behind those large gates that surrounded the perimeter.

“What about my appointment?” She presses, swinging her arm up in the air. The word ‘Appointment’ was pronounced wrong, sounding more like ‘apparent’ then anything.

You groan, wrapping an arm around her waist and pull the little girl into your side. She lands with a gentle thud and turns to you. Rosie always radiated warmth, and right now was no different. “We need to reschedule. We can’t go out today, sweet, things are a little tough right now.”

“My arm hurts and we’re out of those things that go in my yoghurt.” She huffs, pouting only inches away from your face. She was talking about her painkillers and you had to ask why Tom– a man that was consistently injured didn’t own more.

“Roo-“

Somehow, she manages to stick her lip out even more and you knew then that you were screwed. “Mummy, hurts.”

You give in, slinging your arm off of her. “Okay, okay, we can go. But you need to get ready now, and grab your own breakfast.”

Rosie jumps up on two feet, jumping off of the bed with a grin. She was ecstatic, over the moon though you weren’t feeling the same. If anything you were riddled with nerves. “Coco Pops!”

The promise of a sugary breakfast nudged her from the bed. Something else was nudging at you, however, more so in the back of your mind, telling you that this was a bad idea and just this time you could have said no to her, to reschedule the appointment another day and go with Tom and not while he was getting ready for a dangerous mission.

-

An hour later and three unopened texts that sat on Tom's phone, his phone of which sat in his desk drawer, you found yourself walking through the doors of your old apartment that you hadn’t been in since he’d taken you back to his. Everything sat as you remembered from last time you’d been there, except the house was much colder. The curtains were still drawn closed, woollen blanket strewn across the couch, the same wrinkles remained and family photos were scattered across the table. The grossest part was most definitely the mouldy fruit that sat on the bench and you were nearly sure that the milk and cheese in the fridge looked the same– you were too fearful of the outcome to look.

A shiver ran down your spine, discomfort settling in the pit of your stomach and you dragged Rosie in with your hand in hers, keeping a rather tight grip, but not tight enough to hurt her. She recognised the scene straight away, eyes widening as they landed on the books that were left scattered across the coffee table and her still full cup of orange juice.

“Why are we here?” She asks, looking up at you. Though she wasn’t complaining, Rosie actually liked being home in the house she’d grown up in.

You dump your keys on the bench, clattering against the table. “We have to grab something, I left your doctors papers here and we need them for the appointment.

“Can I grab a few toys while I’m here?” She asks, trying to tug herself out of your grasp.

You let the girl's hand go and she looks towards her bedroom, of course, she still remembered where it was and everything. Straight down the hall, turn left at the second door. It was the one closest to the bathroom with stickers all over the front door that she’d put there herself.

You nod towards the hall, flicking through the numerous bills and such that were left in your box. “Go ahead, but we’ll only be a few minutes.”

Rosie was ecstatic to go back to her room, missing her bed with the colourful duvet and her array of toys and children's books. But if anything you were nervous about stepping back into yours and were going to do whatever you could to stay out. You knew that there’d be clothes scattered across the floor, pictures of your once family turned up and memories are hidden in the back of drawers and under the mattress.

The place was simply scary, the equivalent to a horror house but you couldn’t forget the good memories, like the couch where you’d fed Rosie time and time again or the hall where she’d learn to walk and the kitchen stool she deemed hers day after day. There was the wall that was covered in coloured pencil– despite you scolding her for doing it at least three times. It was all the little things that made it only bearable.

You sighed and placed the papers down again, but this time closer to your keys and wallet so you wouldn't forget them because the last thing you needed was forgotten and overdue bills to add to the stress. You didn’t even know how you’d pay them considering you didn’t have a job and savings were running low.

You were so overcome with fear as you stood there that you didn’t pick up the presence of another person until it was too late– until you’re gritting your teeth together as cool metal is pressed against the side of your head, planted with such force that you swore it’d bruise soon enough. It was shocking, enough for your heartbeat to accelerate in your chest and muscles to tense. Though whoever was behind you was trembling slightly, that much was obvious.

“Don’t scream, don’t reach for your phone and don’t try to fight back.”

Part 19!

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[fortisfiliae]

Somnium - Part 2 [Sirius Black x reader]

Filia’s celebration fic

A/n: Thank you so much for the great support on the first part. I hope you’ll enjoy this one too! Special thanks to @obscurilicious for beta reading :) GIF is not mine. 

Find the other parts on my Masterlist linked in my bio!

Summary: A dream is a wish your heart makes when you’re fast asleep, in dreams you will lose your heartaches, whatever you wish for, you keep (Cinderella)  

Warnings: curse words

Word count: 1.9k

A hand running through your hair, skin on bare skin, feet touching feet, you found yourself lying in bed, your eyes half closed, drowsy and complete. Wait - what? 

This seemed strangely familiar. You knew Sirius was right behind you, even though you hadn’t looked at him yet; you couldn’t really feel him but heard him breathe in and out slowly. How could you be so sure it was him? His fingers would touch your neck in a second, wouldn’t they? They did. Why did you know that?

Soon enough you realised you were dreaming the exact same dream you had had the night before, so you jolted up quickly while shielding your upper body with the blanket and turned around to look at Sirius. He was lying on his back now and frowned for a second with his eyes shut.

“What’re you doing?”, he mumbled, eyes still closed before rubbing his palm flat across his cheek.

“I... I’m sitting”, you said. 

“Yeah. I can tell”, Sirius answered and opened his eyes a bit. “But why?”

“Because we shouldn’t be lying in bed together.”

“Is it time for breakfast already, or what?”, he asked as he shuffled to lie on his stomach and buried his face in the pillow.

“No Sirius”, you said and snorted. “You don’t understand. We’re not a couple, we’re just friends. I’m dreaming, this isn’t real.”

He raised his head slowly and looked at you in irritation. “If you want to break up with me you can just tell me, you know. No need to come up with some ‘Ohhh this is all a dream, I’m the ghost of Christmas past’ bullshit.”

“No, I... Okay whatever, forget it.”

Dream-Sirius obviously wasn’t aware of what was going on and if you couldn’t convince him otherwise, you might as well play along. You looked down at yourself and noticed that you were wearing a tank top anyway, so you lowered the blanket from your chest and laid back down, an arm’s length away from him.

He looked into your eyes for a while and asked: “So you don’t want to break up?”

“No”, you said and smiled. Technically you didn’t want to, even if it wasn’t possible to break up when you’re not in a relationship, but that was too complicated to explain now.

“Good”, he said, a tiny smirk on his face. “I’m glad to hear that. And you’re not a ghost?”

“Still not a ghost, nope”, you reassured him, while he reached out to hold your hand but couldn’t grasp it.

“Come closer?”, he asked and almost sounded shy, as he held up his blanket for you to slip in.

Should you? You definitely could, he asked you to. But was it right? Could it even be wrong if it was just a dream?

“Um, okay. If you want to”, you said and shuffled his way.

“Yup”, he said and nodded. “Uh-huh, that’s it, yes.”

Dream-Sirius wanted you close, really close. But he was constructed by your subconscious and you couldn’t believe how desperate it made you look for him. Theoretically, you could do whatever you wanted right now and no one would ever know. You could cuddle, kiss him, or do other things and you were sure Dream-Sirius wouldn’t mind at all.  But it would feel weird. It was one thing to dream of someone without you realising it, but when you actually figured it out and made use of it, it would make you feel like some kind of dream molester. So you decided not to take action and just interact with him, even if Dream-Sirius was really a version of your own mind thinking of him. Merlin, your psyche was problematic.

He pulled you even closer, brought his hand up to your face and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear before he rested his palm on your cheek. Admittedly, it felt good, but his touch was a faint replica of reality. The only thing that felt real was his smile. Those perfect teeth and dimples, the small wrinkles around his eyes when he squeezed them felt so unbelievably real and reminded you of how often you must have studied his face in the past.

“Have you done your homework?”, he asked like he had done in the previous dream.

“Yes. Have you?”

“It’s mostly finished.”

“Don’t ask me about the ducks now”, you said smirking.

“What ducks?”

“Doesn’t matter”, you giggled. “Why didn’t you finish your homework?”

“Well, McGonagall gave us detention for no reason, so we didn’t feel like doing it.”

Oh, an updated part. Interesting. You wanted to try something and hoped it wouldn’t trigger your subconscious to wake you up.

You asked: “What did she give you detention for?”

“She said someone pulled a prank on Filch, apparently jinxed his shoes to have a mind of their own, so he was sliding up and down the corridors for two hours”, he explained. “I mean, I’d love to say this was our work, but we didn’t do it. She just assumed we did, because it was ‘exactly our style of vigilante justice’, as she called it.”

“Yikes”, you uttered. “I think I have a confession to make then.”

“For what?”

“That was me. Filch’s shoes. I did it because he seemed to follow me around constantly. And because it looked hilarious”, you told him.

“You’re kidding”, he said and couldn’t hide his grin.

“I’m not. I wish I was though. Sorry you had to pay for that.”

Sirius suddenly threw his head back and laughed wholeheartedly.  “I can’t believe it. No, I... Hah! That’s amazing!”, he wheezed.

“You seem to be taking that quite well.”

“What? How couldn’t I? It’s hilarious!”

“I thought you’d want to kill me. The looks you guys gave everyone after talking to McGonagall were something else, really.”

He finally stopped chuckling and took a deep breath. “Well, we thought someone tried to blame it on us, but this... This is the best thing ever.”

All of a sudden you started to hear something ringing in the distance and it slowly got louder, so you figured that it must be your alarm clock and it was time to wake up and leave.

“Goodbye Sirius”, you said softly and noticed how everything around you became blurred.

“Huh?”

Painstakingly you rolled over to turn off your alarm clock and sat up slowly. No oversleeping today. Great! The other girls were just opening their eyes as well, so you were pretty sure no one had heard you talking in your sleep if you had even done it again.

When everyone was ready you made your way down to the Great Hall for breakfast. While walking you kept thinking about your dream, how brilliant the human mind must be to come up with a plausible story for things you don’t know the answer to yet. It had taken some puzzle pieces from your memory, the Marauder’s detention, as well as the one time you jinxed Filch’s shoes last week and stuck them together so carefully, you would have believed it on the spot.

“There they are”, Marlene said and pointed to the far end of the Gryffindor table, where the guys were sitting, so the rest of you followed her and sat down with them. Lily took a seat between Dorcas and James, who was already eating next to Sirius; while you sat down opposite him, next to Peter, Remus and Marlene.

Mornings were always pretty quiet, no one liked to talk much before they had some food in their system, so Peter just sent you a sluggish nod, along with a tired smile, raised his eyebrows instead of greeting and handed the silver teapot over automatically. 

You were busy mashing your eggs with a fork when Lily asked: “So, what happened yesterday?”

“What do you mean?”, James asked before he drank from his cup.

“What did McGonagall say? You all looked super pissed afterwards, so I assume it was bad.”

“You tell them Moons”, James sighed. “I’m still mad.”

Remus exhaled a short laugh through his nose and began to explain: “Apparently someone jinxed Filch’s shoes while they were still on him and they dragged him up and down the hallways against his will for quite some time.”

You were glad your mouth was empty because otherwise, you would have choked for sure. You looked over to Sirius without thinking and caught him watching you with a strange expression on his face. He quickly dodged and carried on listening to Remus and Lily.

“Okay so you got caught”, Lily concluded.

“No”, James intervened. “That’s the thing. We didn’t do it.”

“What?”, Dorcas laughed. “But that sounds exactly like something you’d do.”

“That’s what Minnie said as well”, Peter told her.

“But she couldn’t prove it then, could she?”, Marlene asked.

“Nah she couldn’t.”

“So how can she give you detention for it then?”, Lily asked.

“That’s exactly my point”, James growled. “She can’t prove it, yet gave us three hours of detention for it. Merlin, I’m sure Snape has something to do with it. If I find out-”

“Calm down mate”, Sirius said and laughed it off. “We served our sentence, so it’s too late now anyway.”

“You’re telling me to calm down now?”, James asked and shook his head. “You were the one already making revenge plans yesterday.”

“I know, but maybe the person who did it didn’t do it to cause us trouble”, he said and took a bite from his toast.

“Where does this newfound wisdom come from now?”, James asked.

“Shut up Prongs”, Sirius said and grinned as he took another bite.

When everyone had finished their breakfast and went to class, you knew you had to talk to Sirius. You had to know if this was real, if you were really talking to him in your dreams. All this could in no way be a coincidence. How was that even possible? Maybe he knew. 

You went up to him on your way to class and made sure to walk slower than the rest of the group to fall a bit behind.

“Hi”, you said and made sure no one but him could hear you. 

“Alright?”, he said and started to walk equally as slow.

“So... How have you been sleeping lately?”, you asked and could’ve slapped yourself in the same second for it. What a stupid question.

“Um, good?”, he said and gave you a strange look.

“Okay”, you breathed and cringed. “You see, I wanted to ask... Have you had some... Weird dreams lately, by any chance?”

“No?” He frowned slightly, the right end of his mouth pulled upwards. “I never remember my dreams. What are you on about?”

Shit. 

“Oh forget it then”, you said. “I just wanted to know.”

“Are you asking me if I’m dreaming about you, or what?”

“Well, um-”

“Because I’m not, sorry to disappoint you”, he grinned. “I wish I was though, could be fun, right?”

To be continued.

Find the other parts on my Masterlist linked in my bio!

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[write-havoc]

This Is How I Disappear Ch. 26

Summary: A girl named Chuck finds herself in the exact place she doesn't want to be, living with violent men in a desolate nursing home. After her former gym teacher finds her, will he be the savior she was looking for?

Fandom: The Walking Dead AU

Pairing: Negan/Original Female Character

Status: Completed (story continues in The Flame Is Gone, The Fire Remains)

Contains: swearing, violence, sexual assault, blood, smut

Readers 18+ of age only

Masterlists in my bio

Negan’s soft humming voice gently rouses Chuck from her sleep the next morning. Turning over onto her other side, she takes in the sight of him. Sitting back against the headboard with a notebook in his hands, he’s dressed only in his underwear and glasses. Chuck takes a glimpse at the clock and discovers it is just past 10am.

“What are you still doing here?” she asks him as she stretches.

“I’m taking the day off today.” He takes his glasses off and sets them on the nightstand along with the notebook he was looking at. “And so are you,” he adds then lays down and puts his arms around her.

“Oh?” she giggles and returns the hug. “I thought I had nothing but days off. Since I’m pretty much a kept woman now,” she jokes.

He laughs. “‘Kept woman?’” He pulls her closer to him and kisses her forehead. “Where’d you get that phrase from? Shit, that phrase was too old for my fuckin’ parents.”

She laughs. “Well? It’s kinda accurate.”

He pulls back and gets out of bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay. My muscles are still kinda sore.”

He walks around to her side of the bed and tries to smooth some of her wild hair. “Hungry?”

“Uh. Yeah?” she answers unconfidently.

“Nauseous?”

“It’s not too bad.” She sits up and stretches again.

“Want some pancakes?” he asks as he holds his hand out to help her from the bed.

“Yeah. That sounds good.”

The pair prepare the food and eat their breakfast. After getting dressed, they head to the infirmary since Carson is expecting them for Chuck’s ultrasound. She asked Negan if she needed to change into her wife clothing to go downstairs, but he said she didn’t have to today. She dresses in her normal T-shirt and jeans.

“Knock, knock,” Negan calls out as he and Chuck enter the infirmary.

Carson looks up from his notebook. “Hello Negan. Charlotte.” He moves to shut the door behind the pair. “I have the vitamins on the counter.” He points to the bottle. “If you’ll change into the gown and lie on the table, I’ll get the ultrasound set up so we can confirm the due date and check everything out.”

Chuck picks up the gown and changes in the bathroom. She comes back out and lays down on the table as Carson gets the ultrasound ready. She knows that as early as she is, the ultrasound would have to be a vaginal one, so she tries to keep herself calm. She doesn’t want to freak out about the awkwardness of the situation.

Carson sets a folded blanket over her legs and takes the wand in his hand. “Come forward a bit and put your legs in the stirrups,” he directs at Chuck.

“Whoa,” Negan calls out. “What the fuck is that thing?” He points to the wand.

“She’s not far enough along for an abdominal ultrasound. We need to go a vaginal one.”

“You’re gonna stick that thing inside my wife?!” he asks incensed.

Chuck is a little taken aback. Not by his reaction, but by the fact that he called her his wife so easily. And so quickly after she had decided to move to the fifth floor.

“Sir-“

Chuck interrupts Carson. “I can do it myself.” Chuck figures that it is the least awkward option to just insert the wand herself. She takes the wand from Carson and readies herself.

“Whoa, whoa. Wait! This is something that needs some fuckin’ discussion, first.”

“Negan,” Chuck starts, “it’s a medical procedure. I’ve had one before for ovarian cysts.”

“What the fuck, Chuck? Why didn’t you tell me this shit? I was expecting the fuckin’ goop on the belly, you know. Not some guy sticking a fuckin’ dildo lookin’ thing up my wife’s pussy?”

“Negan,” she says lowly.

He takes a deep breath and looks from Chuck to Carson. “Fine.” He looks back to Chuck. “But don’t spring shit like this on me again.”

Chuck applies the jelly and slowly inserts the wand as Carson focused on the screen. “I think that’s it,” she says when she feels that the instrument is in far enough. “Is it right?”

Carson gently takes the wand in his hand and begins to move it slightly to get the picture to come up. Soon enough, the screen is filled with something more familiar. “There it is.”

“That’s it?” Negan calls out, unimpressed. “That little bean is my baby?”

Chuck giggles at his reaction. “It’s not gonna look like a baby yet.” She looks back at the screen and studies the picture. It doesn’t look like much. Not yet, anyway.

Carson does a few measurements and determines that she is about 7 weeks along.

“Wait. Seven weeks?” Negan questions.

Chuck knows what he is going to ask before he does. “They count back from the last period. Not date of conception. It’s more accurate that way.”

“That’s correct,” Carson concurs.

“Okay. Cuz we didn’t fuck seven weeks ago.”

Chuck blushes at that.

“Date of conception would have been about five weeks ago. Give or take,” Carson provides.

Negan visibly relaxes. “Alright. That sounds fuckin’ right.”

“We should be able to hear the heartbeat.” Carson pushes a button on the machine, sending the sound of a tiny heartbeat through the speaker.

“Holy shit,” Negan whispers as he leans over Chuck, to get a closer look at the screen.

Chuck can’t control herself and lets out a giggle.

  Oh my god. That’s my baby. It sounds so perfect.

That’s my child.

My child with Negan.

 She looks up at Negan’s face and smiles. He looks completely in awe, with his mouth agape and his eyes wide open. She gently pushes under his chin to close his mouth.

“Fuck, baby girl,” he whispers as he brings his hand up to gently caress her head. “You made me a baby.” He chuckles and bends down to place a kiss on her lips.

“Baby looks healthy,” Carson provides after a moment. He finishes the exam and moves the machine back against the wall. “How are you feeling?” he asks Chuck as she sits up on the exam table.

“Not bad. My muscles are still a little sore from... the fight.”

“Why don’t you have Frankie work her fuckin’ magic on you today?” Negan helps her down from the exam table. “Pregnant chicks can get massages, right?” he asks Carson.

“Yes, of course. Though lying on your stomach will get uncomfortable at some point,” Carson answers.

They all say their goodbyes and head to the wives’ lounge after Chuck cleans up and changes back into her clothes. As they enter the fifth floor, Negan stops them.

“Why don’t you go in, get some lunch, and ask Frankie for that rub down. I’ve got some shit to work on.”

“I thought you were taking the day off?” Chuck teases.

He smirks and lets out a chuckle. “It’s mostly off.”

They part ways and Chuck enters the lounge.

“Hey, Chuck,” Sherry greets from the kitchen.

“Hi, guys,” Chuck responds.

Kayla comes forward from the couch she was reading on. “How are you feeling today?”

“Okay. I’m fine.”

“We were just going to eat some lunch,” Sherry calls out. “You hungry.”

“Yeah, actually. That sounds great.”

“How’s the baby treating you?” Tonya asks with a laugh.

“Okay, I guess. We got an ultrasound today and everything’s good. But it’s not really much of a baby yet,” Chuck jokes as she sits at the table to wait for her food. She is happy that the wives are taking the news of her pregnancy well.

The other women sit down at the table, as well, and start to eat the food Sherry had prepared.

“I never wanted children,” Frankie blurts out.

“Really?” Sherry asks as she swallows her bite. “Never?”

“No. I know everyone thinks that’s weird, but I never thought I’d be the mothering type. I like other people’s kids but... I just never wanted to actually raise one.” She finishes with a shrug.

“I’m the same way,” Tonya replies. “Babies seem like too much work.”

“I always wanted a bunch of kids. I love ‘em. Obviously,” Kayla says with a giggle. “But I’m not sure about that anymore in this world.”

“Did you want kids, Chuck?” Sherry asks.

Chuck takes a deep breath and sighs. “I never even thought about it. I’ve never really been good with kids, so...” She looks down at herself. “I’m a little scared about the whole thing.”

“That’s normal, sweetie,” Kayla coos. “But you’ll have plenty of support here.”

The conversation shifts to more lighthearted fare as the women continue to eat.

“I was wondering,” Chuck starts, “if you could maybe give me a massage, Frankie.”

“Yeah, sure,” she answers enthusiastically.

“Frankie is very good with her hands,” Tonya says with a seductive smirk.

Frankie giggles. “I don’t think she wants your kind of massage.”

Chuck laughs along with the other women as they finish their meals.

“So... You’re a full-on wife now,” Tonya asks to Chuck as everyone clears their plates.

“Uh, yeah,” Chuck begins. “Negan was right. It’s safer up here.” She absentmindedly places her hand on her stomach. “And now... I mean, I guess I would’ve come up here anyway.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re here.” Tonya walks over to Chuck and gives her a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you,” Chuck whispers.

The other women come around Chuck and all hugged her, as well, which elicits a giggle from her.

“We’re all in this together.” Sherry says softly. “And we’re all here for each other.”

“You guys are so amazing,” Chuck replies genuinely as the women back away from each other. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you guys.”

Frankie starts to set up her massage table in the lounge after Chuck had said it was okay for the other wives to be there. Chuck changes into a robe in the wives’ bathroom and pulls her hair up into a messy bun, returning moments later to the lounge.

Frankie gestures to her table. “Lay on your stomach and get comfy.”

Chuck does as she is told and positions herself so Frankie can remove the robe. Frankie pulls the garment from Chuck’s shoulders and folds it over her backside.

“Oh my god,” Frankie whispers as she lightly brushes her fingers over Chuck’s back. “Do these hurt?” She refers to the bruises still adorning Chuck’s skin.

“A little. My muscles hurt worse.”

Kayla looks over Chuck, too. “Gosh. There’s so many bruises. I’m so sorry, Chuck.”

She doesn’t want the women to make a fuss, so she decides to downplay her injuries. “It’s fine. They’re really not that bad.”

Everyone is quiet for a moment until Frankie moves forward to begin the massage. “Tell me if you have any pain.”

After several minutes of Frankie working on her muscles, Chuck feels noticeably better. “Wow, Frankie. I’ve never had a massage before and I’m kinda kicking myself. This feels amazing. I wish I had massages like every day before now.”

“We can make this a weekly thing. I already do the rest of the wives every week.”

“Hey!” Negan’s jovial voice comes from the doorway as he enters. “Is this a happy fuckin’ ending kinda massage?” He walks further into the room and plops down on the couch nearest to where Frankie is working.

“No, Negan,” Chuck says, unimpressed with Negan’s comment as the other women chuckle.

“Do you even know what I’m talking about, sweetheart?”

Chuck picks her head up to give him the “really?” look. “I’m not an idiot. And that’s a super old joke, anyway.”

He gives her the “I’m impressed” face and sits back on the couch with his hands behind his head. “How much longer ‘til you’re done there, Frankie?”

“A few more minutes. She’s carrying a lot of stress right between her shoulders.” Frankie focuses on the spot, pressing hard into it.

It is uncomfortable at first but once the knot releases, Chuck feels so much better. “Mmm oh. That feels amazing,” she moans.

“Watch out now, Chuck,” Tonya calls out with a laugh. “Negan’s gonna pop a boner if you keep sounding like that.”

Chuck can feel her blush creep up her cheeks. “Stop teasing!” she cries out with a giggle. “I didn’t really sound that bad, did I?”

Tonya shrugs. “It got me a little wet so I know Negan’s got at least a stiffy.”

“Alright, alright. Jesus Christ, Tonya. Keep it in your pants.” Negan shifts forward to lean his elbows on his knees.

“All done, Chuck.” Frankie calls out and pulls the robe back over Chuck.

Chuck gets dressed and says her goodbyes, leaving with Negan to go back to his room. He stops right outside his closed office door and turns around to Chuck with a smirk on his face.

“I got a surprise for you,” he says in a singsong voice.

“Oh?”

He opens the doors with a flourish and walks into his office with Chuck close behind, her eyes scanning the room for Negan’s mysterious surprise. She casts her gaze to her right and sees a huge cat tree lining the wall. In the corner beside the door is a big fancy covered litter box. And all the cats from outside are milling about inspecting their surroundings.

Chuck lets out an excited noise and runs over to hug Negan. “Thank you.”

He throws his arms around her, too. “You’re welcome, baby girl.” He kisses the top of her head. “But I’m not cleaning a litter box, so that’s your job.”

“I can’t. Pregnant women can’t clean litter boxes.”

He pulls back to look at her face. “You can’t pull the pregnant card already, sweetheart.”

“It’s true. It says it on every box of litter. I swear,” she replies as she giggles. “There’s something in cat pee that can cause a miscarriage, or something.”

“Goddamnit. I wouldn’t’ve brought them up here if I knew that! Looks like Sam and Jose are getting a new job. As shit scoopers.”

Chuck giggles at his comment and bends down to pet the mother cat who has started to rub up on her legs.

“That’s not the only surprise,” he states and beckons her with his hand to follow him into his bedroom.

As she enters, she sees a huge flatscreen tv to her right on the wall with the seating area rearranged to face it. Under the tv is a shelf with various gaming consoles and both games and Blu-rays.

“Like it?” he asks with his arms outstretched.

“Jeez, Negan. This is...” She looks around trying to think of the right words. “I-It’s great. I mean... I feel kinda weird that you’re doing so much for me. Like... you’re doing too much for me.”

He lets out a sigh and walks toward her. “Nothing is gonna be too much for you from now on. You’re my girl.” He places his hand on her stomach. “And you got my fuckin’ baby in your belly. I’m gonna give you guys everything in the whole world.”

She giggles and turns to look at the tv. “Still... We have the power for all this?”

“Yup. No need to worry that pretty fuckin’ head of yours about all that shit. We actually got somewhat of a power surplus with all the fuckin’ solar panels we got. And this factory was set up with that hydroelectric shit from the river nearby. I have guys that know that shit in and out and maintain it.”

As Negan talks, Chuck scans all the games that he had brought up to her. One of the boxes catches her eye and she makes an excited gasp.

“You okay there?” he says with a chuckle.

“Oh my god! This is my favorite game!” She pulls the box out and shows it to him.

“Last of Us?” he asks. “Never heard of it.”

Chuck rips the box open and gets everything turned on and ready for her to play.

“You’re playing this shit right the fuck now?”

“Yup.” Before she sits down on the couch to start, she opens up the door to the office. “Here kitty kitty kitty-“

“Nope!” Negan jumps up and closes the door. “Nope nope nope. No fuckin’ cats in my bedroom. Fuckin’ clawing at my shit. Getting cat hair all over the damn place.”

“Aww.” She looks up at him with wide eyes. “They’ll be good. And what’s the point of having cats if you don’t let them snuggle with you?” she asks sweetly.

He narrows his eyes at her before he speaks. “You know, you always give me that same fuckin’ look when you want something from me.”

“I do?” she asks innocently. She is unaware of what look she apparently gives him.

He steps in close to her. “It’s real fuckin’ good that you don’t have a malicious bone in your body because you got me wrapped around your fuckin’ pinky finger, little girl.” He opens the door up and yells to the cats. “Get your furry asses in here.” He turns back around and plops himself down on the couch, waiting for Chuck to join him.

Chuck giggles and sits down beside him, starting her game. The cats don’t venture into the bedroom for several minutes, still a little wary of their new surroundings. But after a while, they get more comfortable and jump up on the couch. Even though Negan shoos them away from him for a while, he eventually lets them crawl over him and sit in his lap.

The whole time Chuck is playing, she explains the whole story and game mechanics to Negan, who has very little knowledge of what she is talking about. She has just finished telling him about what clickers are in the game when she looks away from the screen to him. He is looking at her with a wide grin and soft eyes.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I don’t understand a single fuckin’ thing you’re saying about this game, but you look cute as shit saying it.”

She brushes off his compliment. “You say everything is cute.”

“Just you.”

She looks at him for a few moments before shoving him away playfully. “Shut up!”

 The next two weeks go by easily, with Chuck’s bruises fading and her injuries all completely healed. It has taken her a little time to adjust to life on the fifth floor full time, but she has plenty of things to busy herself with, including rearranging her new room to her liking.

She hasn’t brought herself to venture back down to the lower floors, though. She knows she’d have to get all dolled up in her “wife uniform” to mingle with the rest of the population and she isn’t ready for all that. But she finds herself almost missing Dr. Carson and the infirmary.

She also misses Simon, who has been oddly absent. Every time she had asked Negan about him, all he would say was that Simon was too busy for a social visit with her. That made her a little sad to hear; she considers Simon her close friend. And he is going to be the first person Chuck will tell about her pregnancy when she feels it is the right time to. With some discussion with Negan first, of course.

“What are you reading?” Negan asks as he sits on the edge of the bed and takes his boots off. He has been out later than normal in a meeting with some of the heads of the outposts and just came home.

“Return of the King,” Chuck answers and sits up a little more on the headboard.

Negan stands and takes his jacket off, throwing it on his couch. “Did you eat?” He asks as he heads into the bathroom.

“Yeah,” she responds. “But I wish I had some pizza.”

“You craving pizza, baby girl?” he calls out.

The sound of him relieving himself in the toilet makes Chuck scrunch her face up. “You could close the door when you’re in there.”

He washes his hands and comes back out. “What’s the fuckin’ point?” he asks with a laugh and strips down to his underwear.

“Decorum?” she answers with a shrug. “I don’t wanna hear you peeing. Or see it.” She closes the book and sets it on the nightstand.

“That sounds like a ‘you’ problem.” He snickers and slides under the covers facing her after he turns the lights off. “Turn around, sweetheart.”

She studies his face for a few moments as he lays there with his eyes closed waiting for her to turn so he can cuddle up to her back. “You’re kinda beautiful,” she says quietly.

His lips slowly curve into a smile, but he doesn’t open his eyes. “Is that so?”

“How different do you think you would be if you weren’t? I wonder how people would treat you if you looked more... plain.”

He quirks his eyebrow and spies at her with one of his eyes. “What are you fuckin’ talking about?” he asks with a chuckle.

“Haven’t you ever thought about stuff like that? How your life would be changed if you looked different? I think about stuff like that.” She brings her hand up and traces the bridge of his nose lightly with her finger. “ You definitely wouldn’t get away with most of the stuff you do if you weren’t so handsome. I’m sure of it.” She traces around his smiling lips. “Maybe you would’ve gotten a job as an insurance salesman instead a teacher,” she giggles. “Maybe you wouldn’t have been married. Or maybe you would’ve had three ex wives and a ton of alimony payments.” She giggles again. “Do you think all these people would’ve followed you so easily if you weren’t so good looking?”

He laughs. “If I had a beer gut and a receding hairline I’d still be a badass motherfucker. It doesn’t matter what I look like.”

“You think? It always matters what you look like.” She pushes her hair back from her face and brings her hands under her head. “I know my whole life would’ve been different if I were beautiful like you.”

He stares back at her, but doesn’t say anything.

“Maybe I would’ve been married before all this.” She shrugs. “I probably would’ve had more friends in high school. Been more... personable. Took up cheerleading instead of music. Got drunk with all the cool kids on the weekends.” She chortles.

“I would’ve never let you hang out with those dickwads.”

“If I had been born pretty like them I would’ve been one of those dickwads,” she jokes.

“Why don’t you think you’re beautiful?” he asks suddenly.

She shrugs dismissively. “Because I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I’m not fishing for compliments, Negan. I’m just saying... I know what I look like,” she states with another shrug.

“And I’m not fuckin’ placating you, Chuck. I’m looking at the same face you do. You’re just too fuckin’ hard on yourself.”

She chuckles nervously. “I didn’t mean for this conversation to turn into a self esteem thing. You still got some of those pamphlets they used to keep in the guidance office I could look over?” she jokes.

“Stop being a smartass,” he murmurs and pushes his lips to hers in a sweet kiss. “Now turn the fuck around so we can sleep.”

Instead of turning over, she shifts closer to him and kisses him again. She and Negan haven’t had sex since before the attack and she misses the intimacy. She is truly grateful that Negan hasn’t pushed her into anything too quickly, but she feels she is ready now.

He brings his hand up to cradle her cheek, seemingly reading her mind of her intentions. “You sure, baby girl?” he asks softly.

“Yeah.” She sits up a little and takes off her tank top, laying back down beside him after.

He gently runs his hand over her hair and down to her shoulder, pulling her into him slowly. Her lips caress over his languidly as she moves her hand down to cup him through his boxers.

“Fuck,” he groans. “I’ve missed you.”

She giggles and tugs at his underwear. He lifts his hips slightly and assists her. She removes the rest of her clothes and cuddles into Negan for a few minutes, just allowing him to hold her.

She starts to place kisses on his chest, working her way up to his neck and finally to his lips. Negan cups the back of her head and fervently kisses her back.

“Negan,” she says breathlessly.

“Yeah, baby?”

She throws her leg over his hip and leads him to her entrance. “Please, Negan. I want you.”

He holds her body close and slowly enters her wet heat. “Fuck,” he growls. “You always feel so goddamn perfect to me.”

She giggles and begins to roll her hips slowly. He meets her rhythm and thrusts into her as he runs his hands up and down her body. The entire time, Negan is soft and gentle, allowing her to set the pace.

Chuck cums easily, moaning softly into Negan’s ear. She holds onto him tightly as he continues to plunge himself into her, seeking his own end.

“Can I cum inside?” he asks breathlessly.

She laughs before answering. “There’s no reason not to now.”

“Fuck,” he groans as he pushes her gently to lay back on the bed, still thrusting into her in a steady pace. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum.” His rhythm falters as he paints her walls with his seed. He collapses on top of her, keeping most of his weight on his knees and elbows. They lay still for a while, breathing heavily as they come down from their highs.

“Don’t fall asleep on top of me,” Chuck says with a chuckle after a few minutes.

Negan rolls off of her and clutches her to his chest. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No. You were very gentle.”

“Good.”

“I’m fine. I’m not made of glass.”

“I know, baby girl.” He kisses the top of her head. “But I’m always gonna fuckin’ worry about you. Even more now that you’re knocked up.”

She chuckles. “Did you ever think you’d knock up one of your students?”

He groans loudly. “Jesus fucking Christ, Chuck! Don’t word it that way.”

Her whole body shakes as she laughs hysterically. “I mean, it’s still kinda true.”

“You’re a former student and you’re twenty-fuckin’-five years old,” he growls, but not really angry at her.

“If someone had time travelled back to my senior year and told you that the actual zombie apocalypse was gonna happen and that me and you would have a baby, which part of that story would you have thought was the most unbelievable?”

“Hmm,” he thinks it through, “as long as there was a stipulation that I would knock you up well after you turned eighteen... I’d say the zombie apocalypse would have been way more fuckin’ unlikely.”

“Really?” she laughs. “I would’ve given just about anything a better chance than us sleeping together.” She lifts her hand up and counts off the list. “Aliens visiting... Winning the lottery... Chris Hemsworth leaving his wife for me... Developing ESP...”

“Who the fuck’s Chris Hemsworth?” he interrupts rather indignantly.

“An actor. A big beefy Australian actor.” She looks at Negan and sees that he has no idea who she’s talking about. “He played Thor.”

He scrunches his face up at that. “That dude?! You like that dude?”

“Uh... yes! Definitely!”

“Pfft,” he dismisses.

“He’s gorgeous and buff. And he seems kinda goofy which is always a plus.”

“He’s probably a fuckin’ dickhead.”

She laughs at his reaction. “Are you jealous?”

“I’m not fuckin’ jealous,” he replies quickly.

She giggles and cuddles into his chest. “I promise that if Chris Hemsworth comes sniffing around, I won’t run away with him...” she pauses, “without saying goodbye first,” she teases.

“Oh no you fuckin’ won’t.” Negan flips Chuck over and begins to tickle her relentlessly. Her frenetic laughs only dissipating into moans as Negan begins to pleasure her again, and not for the last time that night.

[will-iswriting-again]

One Thousand Six Hundred and Twenty Seven

Title: One Thousand Six Hundred and Twenty Seven

Fandom: The Adventure Zone

Pairing(s): just some good ol twins being twins

Genre: Light angst?

Word Count: 3173

Warning(s): Foster care, mentions of thievery/arson, vague mentions to a shitty past but there’s no expanding on it?, idk it’s not much this time

Summary: On August 27th, 2018, it was raining. Which was fitting, Taako supposed. It was raining and the Taaco twins felt like the world was ending.

Taako carefully folded his last tank top and slowly lowered it into his suitcase. He looked in the toiletries pocket and checked again that everything was in there- brush, toothbrush, toothpaste, emergency shampoo and conditioner, face wash, hair cream. He closed the pocket and flipped the top of the suitcase over with a soft thump. He then zipped the case close as slowly as he could, counting the click of each tooth as it connected with its opposite.

Click. One. Click. Two. Click. Three. Click. Four.

It was the third time he’d emptied his suitcase and packed it again that day, but only the first time today counting the zippers. He couldn’t help it, he needed something to do, something to keep his mind busy while avoiding the unwanted attention of the other kids there. So he pulled the zipper comically slow and counted.

Click. Fourteen. Click. Fifteen. Click. Sixteen.

Lup was sitting next to him by the desk, toying with her lighter. She was in the middle of one of her favorite patterns, one she developed when she picked the lighter off some guy at the mall two years ago. Light the candle. Blow it out. Flick the lighter on. Release the trigger to put it out. Light the candle. Blow it out. Flick the lighter on. Release the trigger to put it out.

Click. Thirty two. Click. Thirty three. Click. Thirty four. Click. Thirty five.

It was raining. August 27th, 2018. Cloudy with an 85% chance of showers. Taako supposed the 85% had won out today. He was tempted to count the raindrops on the window but it was raining too hard to get a precise number, and the water kept washing the previous droplets away. He had tried to count them once in the car when he was ten, his aunt had taken them to the amusement park and the car ride had been three hours long. The droplets kept moving and adding and replacing themselves, it was too hard to count them and Taako had gotten so frustrated he started crying. His Aunt hadn’t known what was wrong and they almost had to cancel the whole trip. So he counted the zipper instead, it was a comforting constant.

Click. Seventy eight. Click. Seventy nine.

Istus was late. It was 5:27. She was supposed to arrive at 3:15 between 4 seconds and 36 seconds. He had stopped counting the seconds at 5:19 and 42 seconds to start counting the zippers instead. He hoped Lup was counting for him. But he doubted it, Lup liked patterns, Taako liked numbers. She only counted for Taako in emergencies, and vice versa for her patterns, and this was not an emergency.

He looked at Lup again. She was still playing with her lighter. Light the candle. Blow it out. Flick the lighter on. Release the trigger to put-

One of the kids, Taako thought his name was Sam, bounced over to Lup to inspect what she was doing. He was new to the system, only a couple months in and two or three years younger than the twins. Taako hated the weasel, he smelled, messed up Taako’s counting, and, worst of all, bothered Lup. Sam leaned in, admiring the flame Lup had lit as it flickered ceremoniously on the candle wick. He frowned as she blew it out.

“Why’d you do that?” He complained, whipping his head up towards Lup. “I was watching that fire.” Lup flinched as he spoke, snapping out of her daze. She instantly narrowed her eyes at him.

“It was my fire to begin with and I wanted to put it out,” She huffed and crossed her arms. Taako didn’t miss the tension in her shoulders, he knew how much she hated to have her patterns interrupted.

Click. One hundred and eleven. Click. One hundred and twelve. Click. One hundred and thirteen.

“Still not fair,” Sam pouted, matching Lup’s annoyed demeanor. “You should really be nicer to me. I could tell Ms. Letti you’re being mean.” Taako paused a moment and looked up at the two, taking note of the fiery glare in Lup’s eyes before smirking and returning to his counting, Lup never backed down from a threat. She was better than Taako in that way.

“And then I could burn your tongue off for tattling. Who’d be the real winner then?” Lup smiled coldly and went back to lighting a flame, lighting the candle, blowing it out, etc. Taako knew she wasn’t being serious. It was the one rule they had in all their homes: never mess with other kids. But it was fun to scare them once in a while, especially if the twins were leaving before the day was up. Taako found it was easier if they hated you when you left, than to miss you when you’re gone. Sam’s eyes widened as he watch Lup continue to light her fires and he scurried away, probably to cry to Letti.

It was 5:31, Taako hoped Istus would be here soon. He would be pretty miffed if they had to wait until August 28th, 2018. One thousand six hundred and twenty seven felt better in Taako’s mind than one thousand six hundred and twenty eight. Taako preferred numbers with sevens in them to any other number. He didn’t really know why, he just did.

Click. Two hundred and forty five. Click. Two hundred and forty six. Click. Two hundred and forty seven.

He wished Istus would tell them more about the homes they went to before they got there. Taako liked to be prepared. If he and Lup needed to run then Taako wanted time to get ready. He wanted to know the nearest bus stop, DMV, the cheapest motel. He was always ready to drop off the grid, something he wished he could do more often, if he was being honest. Istus didn’t tell them much about this new home, only that they were staying with a middle aged couple and their two foster kids. Taako hated sharing a foster home. It was hard enough dealing with the foster parents. Foster siblings were even harder. Sometimes Taako found they were harder to deal with than biological kids. At least with biological kids everyone knew their place; the bio kid was the real child, and Lup and Taako were a necessary inconvenience. With other foster kids it was a gamble on who would be favored and why, unwanted friendships, assholes who made life miserable for everyone, toss in all the traumatic system backstories and you had a house full of kids just as fucked up as Taako. He could barely deal with his and Lup’s own fuck-ups, he didn’t need to worry about anyone else’s.

Taako huffed and started clicking faster. It’d be annoying if Istus got here before Taako finished counting. It would leave him restless for the rest of the day, or what was left of it. It was 5:38 now, Taako briefly wondered how bad the traffic was.

Click. Three hundred and eighty nine. Click. Three hundred and ninety. Click. Three hundred and ninety one.

Lup made her way over to where Taako was sitting. Sinking to the ground next to him and resting her back against their shared twin bed that sat behind them.

“You counting?” She asked, linking her pinky with Taako’s free hand.

“Yeah,” He replied. Click. Four hundred and fifty three. “Sorry about Sam, he’s a dick.” Lup smirked.

“It’s fine, never seeing the little gremlin again anyway,” She waved her other hand flippantly before pausing, tilting her head to the side and letting a short laugh puff out of her. “Did you say his name was Sam?” Taako let go of the zipper, making a mental mark of where he was (five hundred and two) and turned to her.

“Yeah, did you not know?” He asked lightly, knitting his brows when she started to laugh harder.

“No I didn’t, I’ve been convinced his name was Daniel for the past three weeks,” She joked and Taako gave her a lazy grin.

“Well, I don’t know who your informant is but they really need to step up their game,” He retorted. He glanced at the time again, 5:53. Lup noticed him looking and frowned, the joking atmosphere dissolving in an instant.

“She’s late,” Lup said.

“Very late,” Taako finished.

“Do you want to go back to counting?” Lup asked and Taako shook his head.

“Nah, I got a feeling I won’t be able to finish and I’d much rather talk to you then get annoyed at a zipper,” He replied and cast his suitcase a scornful look before zipping it up the rest of the way. Normally, he’d be more upset with that but he’d counted his suitcase before, and when the three thousand five hundred sixty fourth, and final, tooth clicked into place he gave his attention back to Lup. “But if she’s not here by six then I might start counting the seconds again.”

“Again?” She asked. “When did you stop last time?”

“5:19,” Taako replied nonchalantly, leaning into Lup’s side. “I wanted to start counting my zippers.” Lup nodded and the two fell into a comfortable silence, squished together uncomfortably, elbows knocking and legs interweaving, just the way they liked it. Taako noticed Lup tapping a soft rhythm into her knee and Taako took that as the okay to start counting again. He watched the second hand on the traditional clock mounted on the wall move to forty three and began following along.

Tick. Fifty eight. Tick. Fifty nine. Tick. Sixty. Tick. One.

Istus didn’t arrive until 6:04 and twenty three seconds. Taako and Lup heard the sharp knock of the door downstairs and gathered their things wordlessly. Between them they only had two suitcases and a makeup bag, which on the one hand, was disgustingly sad and pretty hilarious from Taako’s perspective, but on the other hand made it very easy to pack up and go. Taako grabbed Lup’s hand and they made their way downstairs. As they passed the upstairs’ main hallway and neared the skinny spiral staircase at the end some of the younger kids poked their heads out, pouting at the sight of the twins’ bags.

“Are Taako and Lup leaving?” One of the little girls asked from the doorway of her and three of the other girls bedroom. Her roommate, Sarah, slapped her elbow lightly.

“Yes, now shush, it’s none of your business,” She scolded the child and sent them an apologetic smile. Lup gave her a thankful one back but Taako didn’t miss the thinly veiled jealousy on Sarah’s face. He’d only spoken to Sarah a couple times, he and Lup tended to keep to themselves in group homes, but she’d never had a foster family before and always envied how Taako and Lup had been to several already. If only you knew, Taako thought and turned forward, shaking his head lightly.

Taako lugged their suitcases down the steep stairs and deposited them on the floor with a thump. In front of him Letti stood with her arms crossed and back to the twins, chatting idly with Istus at the door. Istus’ hair was wet from the rain and she stayed in the small rectangular alcove with all the kids’ shoes and coats that connected to the kitchen and the rest of the house, to keep the main floor from getting wet. Taako made his way to the kitchen table, pulling out one of the wooden chairs and using it as a stepstool to get on top of the table, and waited for Istus and Letti to finish speaking.

“-I hope the twins weren’t too much trouble for you,” Istus was saying, her charming smile ever present on her face. Letti chuckled lightly, brushing her long hair away from her eyes.

“Not at all. Well, that’s a lie, but it was as little trouble as the twins could get into,” She joked. Letti was a kind old women in her sixties. She wore soft cardigans, summer dresses, and had billowing salt and pepper hair that she let fall over her shoulders in waves. She was definitely Taako’s favorite guardian, a fair lady and she seemed to want every child in her care happy. It was a nice contrast to what their guardians were normally like. She reminded Taako of their Aunt in a way, someone who only spread kindness and someone they definitely didn’t deserve, this was something he had to push out of his mind constantly, or else he might start crying. “The twins were a delight. I would say I’d love to see them again but I think we’re all hoping that doesn’t happen.”

Taako’s breath hitched. It was the one downside to Letti, he hated how optimistic she was. She never understood the reality of their situation, it was almost a guarantee they’d be back here again. Best case scenario is they run away before anyone gets the chance to kick them out again. He almost wished they were staying. Here they could lay low here and wait to age out of the system, in a foster home anything was fair game.

“Let’s hope luck is on our side then,” Istus smiled and peered over Letti’s shoulder, catching a glimpse of the twins. “Taako! Lup! It’s great to see you kids again.” Taako hopped off the table and walked over to her while Lup grabbed their bags.

“You’re late,” Was all Lup remarked from behind them.

“Two hours, fifty one minutes, and thirteen seconds late,” Taako finished and Istus laughed.

“Yes, of course, sorry to keep you guys waiting, traffic was a nightmare,” She rolled her eyes. “People do not know how to drive in the rain. Are you two ready to go?” She opened the door, looking over her shoulder at the twins. “We’re already behind schedule and I want to get there as soon as possible. It’s going to be a long ride.” Taako glanced at Lup and then back at Istus before nodding.

“Ready as we’ll ever be,” He shrugged, taking his suitcase from his sister. “Thanks for everything Letti.” He added on softly. Part of him wanted to give her a hug, something way too sentimental for normal Taako, he frowned, he was getting too soft for his own good. Lup grabbed his wrist and started to pull him towards the door but Letti stopped them before she could. She grabbed them both into a tight hug, squeezing hard enough to be comforting but not too hard that she was suffocating them. Taako froze in her embrace, he didn’t know how to reciprocate, normal hugs were very different than twin hugs. He could feel goosebumps rising on Lup’s arms next to him.

“You two stay safe,” Letti whispered, if Taako didn’t know any better he’d say it sounded like she was choking up. “Remember that you are stronger than you’ll ever know.” She smelled like old books and jasmine tea.

Letti released them quickly and ruffled their hair, pushing them out the door. Taako flipped his wide brimmed hat over his head just in time, saving his hair from the rain. Lup wasn’t as lucky, the downpour soaking her shoulder length hair instantly. Istus was waiting for them by the car, leaning on the door in a white raincoat. Taako and Lup ran down the sidewalk and popped open the trunk of Istus’ black Subaru. They dumped their bags in and raced around to the back seats, sliding in and slamming the door behind them.

Istus ducked into the passenger side and turned around to the twins. “Kids, this is my friend Pan,” She gestured to the man in the driver’s seat. He was a short man in the fifties with curly brown hair, a well kept beard, and a pot belly. He grinned and waved at the two. “He’s friends with your new foster family and is helping us with drive up.”

“Thank you so much Mr. Pan,” Lup said, making sure to emphasize the “Mr,” some adults were really picky about respect. “I know it must’ve been hard finding us a home.” She muttered the phrase like they were words on a script. In a way, though, they were, the twins had spent years learning to pander to social workers and foster parents. But Pan laughed airily.

“Not at all, little miss. Merle’s an old friend of mine and he’s had a fair bit of experience fostering,” He smiled back at them and Taako noted that he had very red cheeks. He almost looked like Santa. A crusty, brown haired Santa. “And you can just call me Pan, ‘mister’ makes me sound like an old man.” The two sighed in relief as Pan started the car.

“We’re going to try and drive straight through but if you need us to stop for any reason just let me know, okay?” Istus said and looked at them through the rearview mirror. Taako nodded.

“Where are we going anyway?” He asked, drumming his fingers on his leg impatiently.

“Oh! I can’t believe I haven’t told you guys yet, things have been busier than I thought they would be,” Istus laughed nervously. “We’re heading to a small town in West Virginia called Benevolence. It’s like an hour outside New Phandalin?” She turned to Pan for a confirmation, who nodded as they pulled out of Letti’s driveway and away from the kindest home the twins had had since their Aunt passed. Lup stared out the window, a look of mourning on her face while Taako gaped at the two adults.

“West Virginia?!” Taako cried in disbelief. He’d grown used to Houston, it was familiar now. West Virginia was almost twenty hours away.

“Yeah, I think it’d be good for you two to get away from the city. There’s less, um, how to put this, bad influences,” Istus said in the tone of voice adults used when they thought you were just a dumb kid. He knew what she really meant, the twins were the bad influence. Taako had only been picked up for stealing once, a rookie mistake when he was thirteen, but it was no secret he still did it from time to time. And you had to be dense as bricks to not realize Lup was one more hit away from becoming a full time arsonist.

Taako slumped in his seat. He hated small towns. It made him feel so vulnerable. In the city he and Lup could duck out at the drop of hat, vanishing into the huge city crowds and no one could find them. In small towns everyone knew who you were, if something changed in a small town then it was no secret.

Taako let his knee bump into Lup’s and he reached out to hold her hand, he hoped the ride was quick. The quicker they got there the quicker the two could run away and the quicker Taako could finally, finally, disappear.

[st-str-strangerthingsfic]

Chapter 5: September 16, 1985 Curfew

Chapter Selection: [Chapter 1]–[Chapter 2]–[Chapter 3]–[Chapter 4]--[Chapter 5]--[Chapter 6]--[Chapter 7]--[Chapter 8]

The first couple of weeks of school had passed by in a blur. El was thriving and throwing herself into every subject. She was struggling only a little thanks to the boy’s and Max’s tutoring the year before but it still took her extra time to finish her homework. Much like the summer before school started, El started to bloom. She found herself laughing always, talking so much more, not just about DnD or comic books, but about school work, biology, history, even the other students she encountered at Hawkins Middle. Hopper was thrilled about this change. She opened up like a floodgate at the dinner table and could barely even finish her dinner she was talking so much. He drank it in and was just happy to see her fitting in so well into school life.

Despite the changes and confidence El had begun to gain after the first couple of weeks of school, her curfew and rules stayed firmly in place. She had to beg Hopper to hang out at Mike’s on a school night to do homework and even then, Hopper picked her up so early. When she protested, he always said the same thing:

“You know the rules, kid. We’re not out of the woods yet.” She would glare at him briefly from across the dinner table before retorting with:

“Where’s the fun if there isn’t a little risk involved?” Hopper would always raise his eyebrows at her and ask her to repeat herself. She never did. But she was getting antsy again.

A little bit of freedom has a way of weaseling its way inside of you and inevitably grows. She wanted more. She wanted to go to the movies with Mike; she wanted to bike to the arcade with the party; she wanted to draw and listen to music with Will; she wanted to sleepover at Max’s; and she wanted to go on adventures with Lucas in the quiet forest behind his house. But Hopper claimed it was all too risky.

She didn’t understand the difference between going out now and going out next spring. It would still be just as dangerous in Hopper’s mind. This led her to believe that Hopper wasn’t going to lift the curfew or get rid of the rules even in the spring. She began to boil.

Most of her nights were spent at her white desk in her bedroom. Will and Joyce had helped her paint pink and yellow flowers all over its surface over the summer. She traced them with her finger now, her biology text book lying flat and open in front of her.

Lost in thought, her eyes darted over to the Supercomm on her bed. It crackled quietly every so often. She walked over to her bed and plopped down, extending the antenna with a sharp snap. She turned to channel 11 and coded for Mike.

The static was deafening as she waited for Mike to respond. Maybe he was sleeping. El glanced at the clock on her nightstand: nine three five. She tried again, pushing the button emphatically. A groggy sound crackled through the speaker.

“El?” a sleepy, quiet Mike responded. El’s eyes widened in excitement, the way they always did when he said her name.

“Mike, are you sleeping? Over.”

“No, no, not anymore. What’s going on? Are you okay? Over.”

El took a deep breath.

“I’m fine, I’m just…” the static seemed to crackle endlessly while El decided whether her not to tell Mike about how she was feeling. She should be grateful really with how much she’s been able to do this year already, but that single taste of freedom opened up something in her and now she couldn’t put it out of her mind.

It was easy last year in the cabin. Well not easy exactly, but physically being separated and not knowing what her life could be, it was easy to put that eagerness off. But now, it beat inside her like a heavy drum, vibrating her entire body.

“El? Are you there? Over.” Mike’s voiced pitched a little with worry. El sighed and shook her head.

“No, it’s nothing, Mike, I’m sorry. I-I was just having some trouble with my biology homework but I think I actually figured it out. I’m sorry I woke you. Over.”

There was a definite pause before Mike responded. Could he read that tone in her voice? That tone that meant she was hiding something?

“Okay. You sure you’re okay? Over.”

“I’m sure. Sorry. Over and out.”

“Okay, it’s okay. Over and out.”

She set the Supercomm back on her bed and closed her eyes tightly. Why hadn’t she told him? She had wanted to so bad, but something held her back. As much as Mike said he liked spending time with her and being with her, and she knew he did, she also knew that he would do anything to keep her safe. Keeping her safe meant obeying Hopper’s rules. Telling him that she was considering breaking those rules would not have gone over well. He might have tried to stop her.

If she was going to do something, she was going to do it on her own. She was going to prove to Hopper that whatever risk he thought existed, she could handle it. With that, she switched off her bedside lamp and crawled into bed, flipping the Supercomm on and off and falling asleep to the cool static.

El woke up exceptionally early for a Saturday morning. The sun was barely coming up as she trudged into the kitchen after a fitful night of sleep. It was Saturday, which meant surely she could go hang out with her friends all day, but El had even more in mind. After popping some eggos in the toaster and pouring herself a glass of orange juice, she stared out the kitchen window across the lake. Light was pouring in from all sides, burning the mist away slowly. The ducks began ruffling their feathers and preening, welcoming the warmth of the sun.

Halfway through her breakfast, Hopper wandered into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes and making a beeline for the coffee pot. As he filled the filter with coffee grounds, he ducked his head under the cabinets to look at El. She was quiet this morning, more quiet than she had been these past couple of weeks, but Hopper decided not to make a thing out of it.

“What do you got going on today, kid? You gonna go see Wheeler and work on that bio homework?” Hopper offered. “I can give you a ride around nine.” He said matter-of-factly. She decided to take a shot in the dark, knowing what the answer was before she even asked it, but still…

“I was thinking I could bike to Mike’s today,” El didn’t take her eyes off of her eggo. “I can use the back roads and ride in the treeline. Lucas showed me last summer.” Hopper rubbed his eyes.

“Kid, you know the rules. No biking.”

“Okay,” she surrendered quickly. Hopper glanced over, surprised.

“Okay? That’s it? No lecture?” He pulled the coffee pot off the warmer before I even finished brewing, sending the dripping coffee into a hissing spit.

“Yes. Just okay. I got it.” She walked her plate and cup back to the sink and began washing them off. She gave him a half-hearted smile before turning down the hall towards the bathroom to shower.

Had he just experienced first hand the cold, unfeeling slap of teenage angst? Hopper lifted a hand to his cheek just to be sure.

Around nine, Hopper pulled his cruiser up to the Wheeler residence. El slung her backpack on her back and looked over at Hopper, that same quiet, cold falling from her mouth.

“Thanks, I’ll see you at seven.” He pursed his lips and nodded. Just as she was about to jump down the from the cab, he reached across and lightly grabbed her arm.

“Wait! Kid…is-is everything okay?” El turned to face him. Her heart hammered in her chest. She wasn’t sure why, but she was nervous. She thought maybe he had caught on to her plan , that she was getting too easy to read.

“Yes, I’m fine. What do you mean?” She asked tentatively, trying to calm her breath.

“Nothing, you just…seem a little quiet today. I just… is everything okay with…with you and Mike?” El’s eyes widened in surprise. Hopper all but flinched. He did not want to be asking that question, but he knew the Wheeler kid had something to do with this. He always had an effect on her mood. It was the only thing he could think of.

“Mike?” El breathed surprised and almost laughed.

“Yeah..he’s not like…pressuring you to do anything right? You both are still just friends, right?” With each word Hopper cringed, his hand still lightly on her arm.

“I don’t know what you mean…” she knew exactly what he meant. She and Mike were definitely not just friends, but Hopper was getting at something she’d only seen alluded to on the soap operas she’d watched.

“Just…I just want to make sure everything is okay…with you and h-him.” Why had he started this conversation again? He internally groaned.

“Yes, everything’s fine. We’re friends. Promise. Can I go?” her breath hitched in her throat when he nodded and released her. She jumped from the cab and sprinted not towards the front door but around the back to the basement floor entrance. Hopper watched her disappear behind the house and knocked his hand on the steering wheel. Nothing could have bee more awkward in that moment.

Closing the door behind her, El tried to replay the conversation she had had with Hopper in her head. Why was he so worried about her and Mike? That was definitely no the way she had expected that conversation to go. She turned around to see Mike fiddling with a rubix cube on the couch. He glanced at her and smiled.

“Hey! The guys should be here shortly. Max is upstairs talking to Nancy about I don’t know what. Come sit!” He patted the seat next to him. She sunk onto the couch beside him and took her backpack off. He put down his rubix cube and gestured to the backpack.

“Did you need some help with biology still?” He leaned over and grabbed her backpack. With every passing second, she watched him closely. He did everything possible to help her in every way. He had to help her with this now. But she couldn’t tell him yet. She nodded and they set to work on some questions she was struggling with until the other party members arrived.

The day was spent in the Wheeler basement playing board games and watching movies. They broke for lunch and Max and Lucas ran out to get ice cream for everyone. Dustin, Will and Mike stayed behind with Eleven. El could feel the old frustration building in her again. She could just go now, but she was going to wait. There was no point in setting them off early and getting in trouble before the day was done. After ice cream, they laid around and did some homework, Will drew his new character for an upcoming DnD campaign and Dustin and Lucas started outlining a timeline for their upcoming science fair project. Max flipped through a comic book providing input on their ideas when she felt like they were moving off track.

Mike settled in next to El. She was bent over her history textbook, scribbling out some notes.

“Hey,” he poked her gently. She looked up at him and smiled gently. “You okay? You’ve been kind of quiet today. And last night…last night it seemed like you wanted to talk about something.” Mike leaned a little closer to her in hopes of keeping their conversation quiet and between them.

“I’m fine. It’s just…” she needed to divert the conversation somehow. She knew she wouldn’t be able to lie to Mike face to face. She wouldn’t be able to hold back what she was planning. “Hopper…he asked me about you and I today before I came over. He thought something might be wrong. He asked if you were..if you were,” she looked Mike directly in the eye. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw how his eyes glittered when he looked at her. His mouth was pulled up in a soft smile. Being this close, she was sure he could hear her heart hammering in her chest, “He asked if you were pressuring me.” The smile evaporated from his face into a disgusted grimace.

“What?!” The other party members glanced over at Mike’s sudden outburst. “How could he even think…I would NEVER…What a piece of…Uggggh,” flustered, Mike stood and paced the length of the couch. “El, I would never do anything to pressure you, okay? You have to tell him that. I would never ever—“

“Mike!” He stopped pacing and stared at her mouth slightly open. “I know, I told him don’t worry.” He kneeled down in front of her.

“You know that too, though right? If you ever feel like I’m pressuring you, you have to tell me. Promise?” His eyes were wide and desperate. The thought of hurting her or making her do anything she was uncomfortable with made him ache.

“I will. I promise.” She placed a hand on his cheek and smiled reassuringly. He smiled back and resumed his place on the couch with her.

“Ya’ll are weird.” Lucas called from the other side of the room.

“Shut up.” Mike quipped without looking away from El.

Seven came too quickly. El was just beginning to open up again after her unnatural (at least recently) silence wore off with the excitement and energy she always felt infused into her when spending time with her friends. While they were all still sat at the table and packing up their things El took a chance.

“So what are you all doing tonight?” She watched as they all glanced nervously around at one another, finally resting all of their gazes on Mike. El followed their gazes and watched as Mike shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Uhhhh, we were probably going to go see a movie…” No one would look at her. They hated sharing plans that they knew she couldn’t attend because of her curfew. They didn’t want to seem like they were rubbing it in her face. El watched as they all avoided her gaze. She looked back at Mike who looked devastated, “I’m sorry El, we know you can’t go it’s just —.”

“What movie?” El said calmly. Mike’s eyebrows arched curiously. The rest of the party looked at her.

“Uh, Back to the Future at 8pm. Can you come?” Mike asked, his brows furrowed again and he looked at her strangely.

El shook her head, but smiled. “That’s okay. Tell me all about it though, okay?”

“For sure!” “Absolutely!” “You bet!” they each said. Mrs. Wheeler’s voice called from the top of the stairs:

“Jane! Your dad is here!” El jumped from her chair and walked around to hug Mike. She gave him a perfunctory goodbye and began to stomp up the stairs slinging her backpack on her shoulder. Mike stood hastily at took two long steps to the bottom of the stairs.

“El!” he called up to her, but she reached the top and walked briskly out of the basement into the front hall and out the front door.

“What was that about?” Max asked. The rest of the party sat in silence. Mike placed a hand in his pocket and pursed his lips.

“I don’t know. That was weird right?” He turned to the rest of the group and they nodded briefly. His eyes wandered back up the length of the stairs. Something was wrong.

Back at the double wide, El changed quickly from her casual day clothes into a cute, short jean skirt that had rainbow butterfly buttons up the front. Nancy had picked out some new clothes without the supervision of Hopper late last summer and given her things to choose from. She wanted to let El know that she didn’t have to dress in flannels and jeans the rest of her life. El put on a light pink sweater that was looser in the arms and tighter around her torso. The fabric was soft on her skin and she admired herself in the mirror. A knock came at her door. She hurriedly put on her robe and jumped into bed, pretending to draw. Hopper peaked his head in.

“You okay kid?” She nodded nonchalantly from her bed. “Okay, I gotta run out to the station really quickly on a call. You gonna be okay here or do you want to come with?”

El shook her head, “I’ll be fine!” This was perfect!

“Keep the doors locked, okay? I’ll be back in no time.”

“Okay!” she chirped. She glanced quickly at her bedside clock seven three zero. If she hurried, she could make it to the theater in time and surprise the party.

“Love you kiddo.” Hopper smiled. El smiled back a little sad. She knew she was going to get into trouble, but she felt like she had to do this. She had travelled to another state and found her sister in an abandoned warehouse and had done way worse things that he didn’t know about. Surely, she could pull off a night out at the movies with her friends.

She waited until she heard his cruiser crunch off down the gravel drive before she flew out of bed, shoved her white converse on, dotted her lips with her bright cherry lip gloss (another gift from Nancy). She locked her bedroom door and set her record player on her vinyl of Blondie. She let it play quietly, turned off her light and clambered out her bedroom window. Once in her backyard, she hurried over to the locked shed where her bike was stored. With a flick of her head, the lock broke and she pulled the chain away. She mounted her bike and with one last glance behind her, she set off down the road toward down. The wild cool night pulled through her curls. She released a loud, brilliant sigh and lifted her head to the night sky. The drumming inside of her built to a crescendo and she was positively thrumming with adrenaline.

She was doing it. She was free. The lights of town quickly came into view and El stood up on the pedals and pumped hard, pink rushing to her cheeks as her blood pumped excitedly through her veins. For tonight, she would be normal. Consequences be damned. If anything, she’d prove to Hopper that she could handle this and that the danger was minimal if not non-existent.

The movie theater came into view and El released an excited breath. Just over the heads of other kids milling around outside of the theater she spotted him. Mike. Her Mike. Laughing in the glow of the bright lights of the marquee. She skidded to a halt and pushed her bike into a nearby bike rack. She smoothed out of her skirt and ran a hand over her windblown curls before jogging excitedly toward the party.

Max caught sight of her first.

“What the hell.” Max uttered, her eyes wide at El’s approaching figure.

“What?” Mike turned from Max and scanned the crowd. His gaze fell on El, traipsing toward him, sheer joy on her face.

El from afar could see the look of panic and worry crossing over Mike’s face and she hesitated. Was he not happy to see her? Her smile dropped a little as she scanned the faces of the stunned party. She felt so light and airy, why were they all so dark and heavy?

With a determined breath, El walked the last few steps to meet them and breathed a happy sigh, staring straight at Mike.

“Hi! Turns out…I could come after all.”

[spxderman-s]

Apple Fritters {Part 2}

{part 1}

word count: 2.1k

pairings: peter parker x reader

warnings: some mentions of food, and some mentions of stalking. other than that--none. oh, i think there’s one little bad word in there somewhere.

a/n: i canNOT believe the popularity of part 1!!! like oh my lanta, that got wayyy more notes than i expected and honestly i’m so glad!! thank you to everyone for your support, it makes me feel amazing. so here is part 2, picking up basically where part 1 left off, with some introduction to more characters and getting a feel for the story. enjoy!!

Your footsteps echoed loudly throughout the now empty halls of Midtown, everyone had scurried off to their first classes. A wave of nervousness crashed over you as you clutched the paper that had your schedule on it tightly. You shouldn’t have stopped for breakfast, or stopped to talk to Peter. If you had gotten to admin at the right time, you wouldn’t be in this humiliating position of walking into your class, everyone staring at you, and maybe puking from embarrassment.

But then again...you wouldn’t have met Peter. You wouldn’t have made a new friend, someone who felt genuine and right. Someone who actually laughed at your jokes, who paid attention to what you said--someone you felt you could get closer to. You wanted to get close to him.

Looking at your crumpled schedule, you located your first class--AP Chemistry. Taking in a deep breath and steeling your nerves, you folded the paper back up and stuffed it into your bag, and entered the classroom.

Immediately all eyes were on you. You felt like that dream everyone talks about--the one where you’re standing in front of a large crowd and suddenly you’re naked. The teacher stopped mid-sentence, looking to you with eyebrows raised in question.

“Oh, sorry,” you mumbled, pulling your folded schedule out again, handing it to her. “New student.” While she scanned the words, your eyes flitted over the many faces staring at you. Disappointed, you realized none of them were Peter.

She gave a warm smile. “[Y/N], is it?”

“Yeah.” Your fingers clutched the strap to your bag for dear life. your heart pounding in your chest.

“There’s an empty seat towards the back,” the teacher pointed. “Make yourself at home.”

You gave a nervous smile, moving as quickly as you could between the desks before you collapsed in one next to a heavy-set guy, who had a friendly grin on his face. He leaned over as you began pulling out your notebooks, the teacher resuming her lecture.

“I’m Ned,” he whispered to you, sticking out his hand.

“[Y/N],” you replied, taking it and giving it a shake. “But you already know that now.”

“First days are always tough, but you’ll get used to it.” He leaned back over and began taking notes, you following suit.

Towards the end of the class, the teacher disbanded everyone to work independently or in groups. Ned scooted his desk closer to yours, his eyes widening at your impressive note-taking skills. You took great pride in having clean handwriting, organizing them by subject, and sometimes even color coordinating them.

“Holy shit, dude,” he said. “Can I copy your notes at lunch?”

You laughed, slightly moving your notebook so it was lined up straight with your pencil. “Of course...and thank you, for giving me a reason to go to lunch--instead of hiding in embarrassment in the bathroom.”

Ned scribbled something down on a small piece of paper, pushing it towards you. “My number--in case you get lost or I don’t see you again before lunch.”

You blinked, taking it slowly. While this gesture could have been taken as flirting, it didn’t feel that way. You felt that Ned was genuinely trying to be a good, welcoming person. You almost teared up at the thought of how easy you were making friends today. “I--thank you. That’s really nice of you.”

“Not used to people being nice, I take it?”

You shook your head. “I was always the black sheep, you know?”

He rested his head on his hand, an empathetic look on his face. “Dude, I know.”

You both spent the rest of the class bonding over being outsiders, cracking jokes and getting excited over the fact that Ned had an unbuilt LEGO Death Star that he was trying to get his best friend to built it with him. Once the school bell rang, you both were smiling and laughing together like you had been friends for years. Packing up your bag, he looked at your pristine notes again.

“You know what you should do?”

You turned to look at him, closing your notebook and putting it neatly into your bag. “Hm?”

“You should join the Academic Decathlon team,” he said, as you both stood up together to leave. “Having you on our side would be amazing--what's your subject?”

You were stunned. “B-biology.”

“Even better! We don't have a Bio nerd in our squad.” Ned stopped after seeing the terrified look on your face. “You don't have to if you don't wanna. I did kinda dump it on you, on your first day.”

The bell rang as you both exited the classroom. Giving a long sigh, you bit your lip. “I want to get used to the school before I think about joining any clubs.”

Ned shrugged, holding the straps to his backpack. “No worries, dude. I totally understand.” He gestured behind him. “I've got Physics, so I gotta bounce. But if you change your mind--you know where to find me.” With another friendly grin, he disappeared into the sea of students.

The classes you had after that passed by smoothly. You made more friends--none like Peter or Ned--but everyone seemed to warm up to you quickly. You desperately needed a break, and lunch was up next. Meandering through the halls, following the crowd, you kept turning your phone over in your hand, debating on whether or not you wanted to text Ned.

You didn't need to. As your entered the cafeteria, you heard a familiar voice call, “[Y/N]! Over here!”

Following the direction of the voice, you saw Ned sitting at an almost empty table--sitting next to him was Peter, from the subway. Your heart did flip flops in your chest, your pulse sky-rocketing. Your eyes met, and he instantly sat up straighter, a grin spreading over his dimpled face. You gave a nervous wave as you approached their table, feeling your cheeks heating up.

“This was the girl I was telling you about,” Ned poked Peter’s shoulder, breaking your eye contact with him. “You know, who should join the team?” Sitting down across from him, your hands shook as you pulled a bag of carrots and a sandwich out of your bag.

“Hey, Parker Pete,” you teased.

“No apple fritters?” Peter teased back, laughter edging his words.

Ned frowned. “Wait, do you guys know each other?”

“This is, uh, the girl I was telling you about. From the subway this morning.” Peter’s cheeks turned an adorable shade of pink.

“It's a small world,” you admitted with a smile, popping a carrot in your mouth. “And no fritters--I'm waiting on you to buy me a new one.”

Ned’s eyebrows slowly raised, and his eyes bounced between you and Peter, as if he could sense what was going on. “Should I give you two some privacy?”

You nearly choked on your carrot, and Peter gave him a deathly glare.

“Kidding. I'm kidding!” Ned shook his head and began eating his lunch. “But seriously, show him your notes from Chem, [Y/N].”

You nervously pulled out your notebook and pushed it towards Peter. He avoided your eyes, and opened the first page, his interest immediately peaking. “Wow. [Y/N], this--this is incredible.”

You blushed furiously again, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “They're just notes.”

“Just notes?” Peter repeated incredulously. “Imagine what your mind can do!” He stopped himself suddenly, laughing nervously. “I mean, not--not to be weird or anything.”

“I just want to get my bearings first,” you sighed, knowing it was the right thing to do, despite your eagerness to join the team. “Maybe in a few weeks, you can try asking me again?”

While they both looked disappointed, they understood. You spent the rest of lunch talking about studying and homework, planning on building Ned’s Death Star, and possibly hanging out over the weekend. The entire time you stole glances at Peter, and every single time you caught him staring at you--only to look away shyly, the muscle in his jaw flickering in nervousness.

The rest of the day passed, and Peter offered to help you get home. You walked together along the quiet streets of Queens, until you stopped in front of the steps to your apartment, turning to him. “This is me,” you spoke nonchalantly, but your voice rising an octave gave you away.

“Nice place,” he observed, shoving his hands in his pockets.

The two of you stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to say, until he opened his mouth--only to close it again.

“What?” you asked, pushing your hair over your shoulders. He stared at you for a moment, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed nervously. The way he looked at you set your heart on fire, your skin prickling with excitement. He stepped forwards, reaching out and tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His fingertips brushed your cheek, leaving a trail of fire where they touched. You stared at him, stunned, not knowing what to say. Your heart was pounding so loud you were afraid he would hear it.

But there was so much you wanted to say. I think we should kiss, kept replaying over and over in your head, screaming at you to just speak it aloud.

He shook his head, taking a step back to leave. “I'll--uh--see you at school.”

Disappointed in yourself for not speaking up, you gave a tiny wave. “See you.”

He smiled, and jogged away down the street, leaving you standing in front of your apartment, wondering how soft his lips would feel against yours, craving his touch and closeness again.

“[Y/N], make sure you get all your homework done before you knock out for the night,” your brother called down the hall to you. “Goodnight, kiddo.”

“Yeah, yeah...g’night,” you replied absentmindedly from the kitchen, staring at the blank pages of homework in front of you, tapping your pencil in frustration. Looking up at the clock, it was almost eleven. You couldn’t concentrate. You felt boxed in, caged like a bird in your own home. And you couldn’t stop thinking about Peter, the way he looked at you and moved the strand of your hair. Sitting up straight, you leaned back to see if your brother’s door was closed. Seeing that the coast was clear, you quickly tossed a sweatshirt on and stepped into a pair of shoes as quietly as you could, slinging your bag over your shoulder. As silent as a mouse, you painstakingly opened the front door, slipped out, and closed it as softly as possible.

As soon as you were free, you flew down the stairs and out the door, sighing in relief as the cool, nighttime air surrounded you. You began walking, hands in your pockets, admiring the city lights on the horizon, and the voices carrying in the breeze. You weren’t sure how far you walked, until you found yourself in unfamiliar territory--and it was dark. Very dark.

Turning around to try and go back the way you came, you saw two bulky figures walking towards you. Your skin prickled, getting a very bad feeling. Keeping your head down, you moved to the other side of the street and continued on your way.

But you could feel their eyes on you.

You quickened your pace, hearing their footsteps following yours, until suddenly you heard the unmistakeable sounds of punches landing.

Whirling around, you recognized the guy in the red and blue suit from the YouTube video standing over the two men who were following you-- they were both knocked out cold.

“This is what happens when you stalk people at night,” he spat to them, before turning to you. “Are--are you alright?”

You were dumbfounded, unable to find your voice.

The masked hero took a few steps closer to you. “You know, you shouldn’t be out this late by yourself.”

“I just--I just wanted to get some air,” you croaked out. He was standing in front of you now, the spiderweb design on his suit coming into view. “You’re--you’re that guy. The spider guy.”

“Spider-Man,” he corrected proudly.

“‘Spider-Man’” you repeated, staring at him with your mouth open. “I thought that was a prank or something--for views.” You could tell he was a little hurt by your words, so you reached out, poking him in the center of his chest. “But you’re real.”

He rubbed the spot where you poked him sheepishly. “I’m real, don’t worry. You aren’t going crazy.” Spider-Man was silent for a moment, before gesturing behind you. “Let me walk you home--make sure you get there in one piece.”

All you could do was nod, still staring at him. His voice was filtered, but it sounded so incredibly familiar. The way he talked, his little body language habits, it made you feel like you had known him all your life. You began to walk together in silence towards your apartment, stealing glances at this “superhero” everyone loved to talk about.

He came to a stop in front of your building.

“This is me,” you said for the second time that day.

Spider-Man crossed his arms casually. “Don’t go wandering at night anymore, okay?”

“Okay.”

It was only until you had returned to your room, laying awake while the stars twinkled outside your window, thinking of the weird encounter of the night, that you realized you had never told Spider-Man where you lived, yet he guided you there regardless.