#it can’t cough either so it’s dealing with a lot more shakes and i suppose cold?

[thehappiestgolucky]

Not feeling well so I’m making characters not feel well either

Spearmaster designed to be the ideal messenger, never really dealt with the average illnesses other creatures did. Until it constantly hung around the group and finally caught its first flu. Body does NOT know how to deal

[dreamwritesimagines]

Burn The Witch 10 - Bad Influence [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s an extra chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.

Summary: Some nights are more hectic than others.

Series Masterlist

Oh hell no.

Tonight was supposed to be a normal night. Boring even. You were supposed to stay at home, watch a cliché horror movie, eat noodles and worry about whether your fake boyfriend, who didn’t know he was your fake boyfriend, was safe and sound on yet another secret mission of his.

Okay, maybe not that normal of a night.

But what was not supposed to happen was your ex-boyfriend showing up out of nowhere at your door.

“I know we left things off a little awkward but that’s no reason to point a gun at me. I was just doing my job.”

“Walk away,” you said, “Go back to the circle of hell they unleashed you from.”

“I heard you’re fake dating Barnes?” he asked, “He looks like your type.”

“I’m going to give you three seconds, then I will start shooting.”

He hissed in a breath,

“Except you can’t,” he stated, “You have to keep your cover. Milkshake waitress having a gun? People would start asking questions.”

“You’re right,” you said through your teeth, “A knife would be much more silent.”

“What’s taking you so—“ Keith called out but he stopped talking as soon as he saw you two. His eyes narrowed almost immediately and he took a step but you threw yourself in front of him, knowing he was about to punch him.

“Keith, I got it.”

“What the fuck are you doing here dickhead?”

“Nice to see you too Keith,” Julian said, “Am I interrupting something? I always kind of wondered what was going on between you two.”

“Ew!”

“If I didn’t want to punch you before, I certainly want to do it now,” Keith stated and you shook your head.

“I got it,” you said, “Really, it’s fine. Go back to the living room.”

He gritted his teeth, “I’ll fuck you up the moment I get you alone, Julian.”

“I can pretend to be scared if you want,” Julian deadpanned as Keith walked back to the living room and you tucked your gun into the waist of your shorts again, crossing your arms.

“So what crossroad is missing its demon right now?” you asked and he tilted his head.

“Y/N.”

“Why are you here?”

“I wanted to say hi,” he said, “Is that so bad?”

“Yeah. Considering the shit you pulled, it is bad.”

“You would’ve done the same thing.”

“No I really wouldn’t,” you said “What, am I supposed to believe you’re here to say hello?”

“Yep,” he said, “It’s customary to meet or re-meet your team leader on a mission.”

You blinked a couple of times, gawking at him before you let out a bitter chuckle.

“Oh fuck no.”

“Hey take it up to the General, I didn’t ask to be put on a mission where you play the honeypot,” he said, “Speaking of, is Barnes head over heels yet? I know how charming you can be when you want to, call it a first hand experience.”

“You’re not a part of my team.”

“I sort of am.”

“It’s my team,” you insisted, “I didn’t give okay to you being on my—“

“I’m afraid that’s above both of our paygrades,” he pointed out, “Nothing you can do about it. Trust me, I won’t enjoy this either.”

“Oh you won’t?”

“You think I will enjoy watching you have a relationship with the goddamn Winter Soldier?” he asked, “As fake as it may be, it will look real.”

“You’re so full of shit.”

“So I take it he doesn’t stay over yet?”

You ran your tongue over your teeth, shaking your head, “You know what?” you said, “I think I’ve had enough of this bullshit for the night. It’s always a displeasure to see you Julian, fuck off now.”

You slammed the door on his face and ran a hand over your face, making your way to the living room.

“General put him on the team?” Keith asked, “Is he serious?”

“Looks like it,” you checked your wristwatch, “I need to talk to him. Do you think I can-”

“Don’t call the General right now,” he interrupted you before you could finish your sentence, “You’re angry, and I get that, so am I but wait until tomorrow.”

“Keith, he can’t be in my team!” you insisted, “He can’t be trusted, you know he can’t!”

“Hey,” he grabbed you by the shoulders, “I know. I know what he’s done, I know he can’t be trusted. But the rest of your team got your back, okay? Especially me and Chloe. What happened at that last mission won’t happen again.”

You threw your hands up, “Ugh, fuck this shit!”

“We got this—” he started but then your phone started vibrating on the couch, making you both turn your heads. You leaned over to check the screen, then snatched the phone off the couch when you saw Bucky’s name flashing.

“I should take this,” you murmured and made your way to the bathroom to close the door behind you. You jumped into the empty bathtub and answered the phone.

“Hi Bucky.”

“Hi darling.”

Even the sound of that was enough to make a small smile warm your face and you closed your eyes, leaning your head back to the bathtub.

“You could’ve just texted, you didn’t have to call.”

“Nah I wanted to hear your voice.”

Your smile widened as you bit down on your lip.

“I wanted to hear your voice too,” you murmured, for once dropping the act, “God, you have no idea what kind of a terrible night I’m having.”

“What’s wrong?”

You scrunched up your face, scolding yourself in your head. “Just a…just a bad night.”

“Girls at soup kitchen are giving you a hard time?” he asked and you let out a chuckle.

“No,” you said, “I just heard some less than ideal news.”

“Do you need me there?”

You raised your brows, “Aren’t you on a secretive and highly dangerous mission?”

“Yeah,” he said, “Doesn’t matter, I’ll come if you need me. Do you?”

The clear difference between your ex-boyfriend and your current, albeit fake boyfriend was impossible to miss and you felt your throat getting tighter before you coughed.

Fuck no, you didn’t cry.

The last time you genuinely cried was when you were 16, and quite frankly you had no idea if you were even capable of doing it anymore.

“It’s fine,” you managed to say, “It can wait. Date night when you come back though.”

“Of course.”

“And actually I’ve been thinking about that,” you said, “It’s my turn, right? To pick the place?”

“Mm hm, we last went to Brooklyn.”

“So I was thinking what if we did one modern and one old times?” you asked, “I can pick the modern dates and you can pick the old times dates.”

“Huh,” he said, “That’s a good idea. Wait, you’re not going to drag me to one of those nightclubs, are you?”

You giggled, “Would it be that terrible?”

“Please don’t do that to me.”

“You don’t like dancing?”

“Not that kind of dancing.”

“You know, I keep waiting for you to actually utter the words ‘back in my day’, but it’s not happening.”

He chuckled, “Back in my day, we wouldn’t call that dancing.”

You hummed, slipping a little in the bathtub, “Good point,” you said, “So okay then, it’s settled. I got the modern and you got the old dates covered. What does that entail anyway? Home cooked meal dates?”

“Nope,” he said, “We’re dating, not married.”

You pulled your brows together, “How is that relevant?”

“Me being at your place or you being at mine would be very frowned upon,” he tut tutted, “Us together, without anyone else. Inside and privacy and all. Scandal, there’d be lots of gossip about your virtue.”

A clear laughter escaped from your lips and you covered your mouth with your hand, trying to pull yourself together.

“Right, my virtue,” you played along, “So I take it you have never been alone with a girl back in your day then? Since virtue was a huge deal?”

There was a pause on the other line, “I mean it wasn’t— it wasn’t that huge of a deal for everyone…” he trailed off, and you clicked your tongue.

“But overall, no Netflix and chill?”

“What’s Netflix and chill?”

You bit inside your cheek, trying to ignore the warmth at the pit of your stomach, “I know you hate to hear it, but you’re so cute.”

“No I’m not.”

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me,” you taunted him, “I won’t tell anyone.”

You heard Sam calling his name and there was a shuffle before he cleared his throat.

“I gotta go,” he said, “Promise to be safe?”

“Right back at you.”

“Good night sweetheart.”

“Good night.” you said and hung up, pressing the phone to your lips before you shook your head at yourself. You got off the empty tub and opened the bathroom door to step out, then found Keith busy with the noddle boxes in the kitchen.

“It’s still hot, and I took the liberty of texting Chloe,” he said, “She’s on her way.”

You tried to offer him a small smile.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” he grabbed the chopsticks, “But we might want to finish Scream before Chloe gets here, because knowing her, she will make us watch a rom-com.”

                                                ***

You should’ve known trying to change the General’s decision was a lost cause. He listened to your multiple reasons why it was a bad idea to have Julian in your team, but you could’ve been talking to a wall and it still wouldn’t have made a difference.

“I’m aware of your past with Julian,” he said with a sigh after you were done listing your reasons, “Trust me, this wasn’t an easy decision to make.”

“It’s not about my past with him, sir.” You forced yourself to say, “He can’t be trusted. He’s not a team player, he doesn’t think about anyone but himself-”

“It wasn’t just my decision to make him a part of the team, it was all your superiors’,” he said, “We believe that you’re professional enough to pull this off.”

You gritted your teeth, “Sir, it’s not—“

“He’s in your team and a part of the mission now,” he cut you off, “You’re dismissed, Shrike.”

You dug your fingernails into your palms and nodded, then left his office to march up to Chloe and Keith who were huddled over Chloe’s desk.

“What did he say?”

“That he’s not going anywhere.”

Keith clenched his jaw while Chloe heaved a sad sigh.

“I can try to talk to him if you want, but…”

“It won’t make any difference,” you said, “I know.”

Keith crossed his arms, leaning back to the desk, “I mean we could always poison Julian.”

“Keith.”

“Or he could get caught in the crossfire. Spies die like flies, you know that.”

“Don’t say that!” Chloe exclaimed, “You guys are spies too and I already feel way too worried about you.”

“No worries, the only type of death Y/N will get from Barnes is la petite mort.”

You smacked him on the arm, “Fuck you, we’re not sleeping together yet.”

“But you sort of want to,” Keith said, “I heard your giggling last night while talking to him.”

You shifted your weight and threw your shoulders back, “Yeah, so? It’s my cover.”

“Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want to fuck his brains out.”

“I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer!”

“I’m kind of excited about that too,” Chloe said and both you and Keith turned to her.

“Please tell me you don’t want to sleep with Barnes—“

“No!” Chloe said, “No I just… when Y/N wants to, we’ll go and get some vintage inspired lingerie so I’m excited for that.”

“We’re not going to do that Chloe.”

“Yeah, let the guy see the good things 21st century has to offer Chloe,” Keith winked at you and you rolled your eyes.

“You know what, I didn’t give you shit when you were the one undercover in Brazil and had to—“

“Y/N,” Julian’s voice reached your ears and a shiver ran down your spine, making you clench your teeth, “You have a minute?”

Chloe stole a look at Keith who glared at Julian while you raised your brows.

“Not for you Julian, no.”

“I just joined the team, you have to update me.”

“Actually she doesn’t because I already gave Sarah your file and I know that she gave it to you two hours ago,” Chloe stated and Keith nodded.

“Yeah and you’re standing a little too close, so why don’t you step back a little?”

Julian shot you a look, “Seriously? And you’re okay with this?”

“He’s right, you’re standing a little too close,” you stated, making him sigh.

“Y/N, we’re on the same team,” he reminded you, “We need to get along.”

“Actually, you’re on my team,” you corrected him, “I’m the leader in here. So technically, I don’t have to get along with you. You have to get along with me, seeing that you work under me.”

A small arrogant smirk curled his lips. “Wouldn’t be the first time I worked under you,” he said, “Brings back the memories.”

Your eyes narrowed and you tilted your head.

“It really does,” you mused, “The memory of the most boring ten seconds of my life, you tranquilized mattress.”

Keith snorted out his coffee while Chloe gasped, staring at you. You smiled at Julian sweetly, then grabbed your phone.

“Well, I’d better go,” you said, “Some of us have a mission to lead after all. I’ll see you guys later.”

“Have fun,” Keith said without taking his eyes off Julian, “I know we will.”

You winked at them and walked out of the bullpen, grinning to yourself.

                                     ***

The following two days were an actual disaster. Bucky wasn’t in the city so you had nothing to do and nothing to report about. Not only that, you had also made it your own mission to avoid Julian but so far that mission had been a success.

You were beginning to suspect Keith and Chloe had something to do with it.

There was also something at the pit of your stomach. Something that made you both sad and uncomfortable at the same time, like an itch you needed to scratch and no matter what you did, it wouldn’t go away.

Chloe had this genius theory of you missing Bucky, but she was absolutely wrong.

You were just done with counting the money and locking the register when you heard the wind bell by the door chime, but you were way too busy with trying to place the mason jars on the shelf to even look around.

“Sorry, we’re closed,” you said but there was no answer. You froze for only a second before the spy in you kicked in and you grabbed the mason jar tighter before reaching out to grab the nearest knife. The footsteps didn’t signal that it was more than one person and you would throw the jar and judging by the angle of his shadow he would probably lean left to dodge it and that would be when—

“Hi beautiful.”

You whirled around, still holding the jar tight before you dropped it on the counter with the knife, staring at Bucky standing by the door.

“Oh thank God….” you rushed to jump into his arms and he caught you, lifting you off the floor as you wrapped your arms around his neck, inhaling his scent deeply. Somehow just his presence was enough to make up for these last terrible days and you closed your eyes for a moment while his hand cradled the back of your head, pressing a kiss on your temple.

“Hi,” you giggled as you pecked him on the lips, “I didn’t know you were back!”

“Oh we just arrived,” Bucky said as he put you down, “Sam went home and I came here. He says hi by the way.”

“Hi back,” you said and the duffel bag on the floor caught your eye, “Wait, you literally just arrived?”

“Mm hm.”

You hummed, pinching his chin between your fingers as you turned his face, making him smile.

“No bruises,” you commented “That’s a good sign. You scared me though, I thought you were a robber!”

“Yeah, speaking of,” he said, “Where’s your friend?”

“Tara? She had a date, and the part timer had an emergency, so I’m closing today.”

“By yourself?” he asked, “That’s not exactly being safe.”

“I can take care of myself,” you taunted him, “I’m glad you’re back.”

“Glad to be back,” his smile widened, “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

“Oh you don’t have to, you know I live close by. You should go home and get some rest, you look like you haven’t slept in days.”

“Y/N,” he said patiently, “It’s night time—“

“Meh, evening more likely.”

“It’s dark outside,” he said, “I’m walking you home, come on.”

You thought for a moment, then heaved a sigh.

“Okay,” you said and looked around to see whether you had missed anything, then grabbed your jacket and switched off the lights. He adjusted his duffel bag over his shoulder as you locked the shop then you both started walking.

“So I take it the mission was a success?” you asked, entwining your fingers with his vibranium ones. He still wasn’t used to it and he hesitated for only a second before he held your hand.

“Something like that.”

“How are you going to celebrate?”

He frowned, “Celebrate?”

“Yeah!” you said, “A nice thing happened, why wouldn’t you celebrate it?”

“We don’t really… celebrate missions.”

“Why not?”

He thought for a moment, “I don’t know,” he admitted, “Can I- can we celebrate it then? Together?”

“Oh we absolutely can,” you nodded, “How does tomorrow sound? It’s my time to pick the date, and I’m picking a bar with lots of celebration drinks.”

“There won’t be any dancing in this bar, right?”

“Not yet,” you wiggled your brows, “But I’m warning you, I have plans. We will push you out of that comfort zone of yours.”

“My shrink would like you.”

You tilted your head, “Is that a good thing?”

“Yep,” he said, “How about you? Do you feel better?”

You heaved a sigh and made a face, “Trying.”

“Anything I can do to help?” he asked, “Anything at all, I’m serious.”

A small smile warmed your face and you looked up at him.

“It’s fine,” you said “Thank you for asking though. It means a lot.”

He squeezed your hand like he was trying to assure you and you turned around to see him better as you stopped in front of the building.

“I’d ask if you wanted to a cup of coffee upstairs but…” you sighed dramatically, “My virtue and all.”

“Right,” he played along, “Of course not. We can’t have your neighbors get the wrong idea.”

“No chaperone or anything…”

“I’m astonished you’d even think of such a thing miss,” he said, trying to keep a straight face and you bit down on your lips.

“Well, thank you for being the perfect gentleman, mister,” you taunted him, then stood on your tiptoes to brush your lips against his, his arm around your waist tightening. He looked down at you as you pulled back, that soft light crossing his eyes again.

“Good night Bucky.”

“Good night,” he stole a kiss from you again and you giggled, then made your way into the building. You took the elevator and as soon as you reached your floor and stepped out, you found Keith fumbling with his keys by his door. He looked over his shoulder and you tilted your head, staring at his blood stained clothes.

“Why are you covered in blood?”

“Why are you grinning like a high schooler with a crush?” he asked back and you tried to control your expression. “Something tells me the answer to both of those questions is the same.”

“Mission?”

“Mission.”

You hummed and went to unlock your door as well while Keith leaned sideways to his doorframe.

“At least one of us is having fun on missions,” he pointed out and you curled your lips, shooting him a look.

“Aw you poor baby,” you said, “I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not.”

“No I’m not and you know why?” you pointed at him, “You didn’t bring me coffee the other day.”

He gasped dramatically and you let out a laugh, then closed your door behind you.

“That Barnes guy is a bad influence on you young lady!” he called out before closing his door as well and you chuckled to yourself, shaking your head.

“Yeah,” you murmured, “I think you might be right.”

Chapter 11

[feliix]

Perfect Score ↠ Han Jisung

↠ Jisung x Reader (feat. Felix)

↠ Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Fake Dating!AU, Childhood Friends to Lovers

↠ Rating: M (18+)

↠ Word Count: 14.9k

↠ Summary: As you return home to work at your local coffee shop, you’re swarmed with couples coming in on lovey-dovey on dates. You’ve always hated the idea of love, but it’s Jisung’s mission to make you change your mind in just two weeks time.

↠ Warnings: idiots 2 lovers, mutual pining, unprotected sex, fingering, soft sex, language, light mentions of marking, mentions of bad past relationships

“That's disgusting.”

You grimace in the most subtle way as you watch the man across the shop press a gentle kiss on the cheek of the woman next to him. For some reason your shop is packed with couples this evening. Not that you’ve been counting, but they’re probably the 50th overly lovey-dovey pair that you’ve seen this just this shift alone. 

To say ‘love’ isn’t really your thing isn’t too far from the truth. Every time you’ve been burned by someone in the past has only made your hope about love deteriorate. Relationships suck. Already been there, done that, and you don’t plan on doing it again.

You’ve always stuck by the same theory; relationships either lead to heartbreak or marriage. And even still, marriage may still end in heartbreak, so what’s the point?

“Stop being so dramatic,” Jisung laughs, pulling you out of your thoughts as he rounds the corner. He’s just in time to catch your snide remark, surely it won’t be the last one you’ll make tonight though. He had just run to the back to get you a fresh package of cups after using up all the stock in the front.

Tonight is busy to say the least. The sun has already set, and it’s the afternoon rush when everyone comes in for their second daily dose of caffeine. And it’s definitely necessary – especially on a day as hot and exhausting as this one. It’s the third day that its been over 100º in a row and the humidity is doing a real number to your hair.

“It’s not dramatic,” you sigh, leaning on the counter behind you as Jisung maneuvers around you, placing the cups on the shelf underneath. In your mind it absolutely isnt. Its a mystery why all these people need to publicly display their affection in a coffee shop anyway...

It’s just the two of you on the schedule tonight. Your boss has always been kind of an asshole, just leaving 2 kids in their early twenties to run the shop by themselves while he went off to do god knows what. There's always been an aching suspicion that he just goes to the bar across the street, since his car is still parked behind the shop but he’s always nowhere to be found. That’s okay though, it's better than him looming over your shoulder and criticizing your technique the whole shift.

“Yeah, whatever you say,” Jisung shakes his head.

In stark contrast to yourself, Han Jisung is quite the hopeless romantic. So much so that he tends to search for love in all the wrong places. Maybe a better way to describe it is that Jisung has a series of flings. He’s not shy to test the waters of any girl he comes across – and there are many, many waters that he’s tested. Lucky you gets to hear all about each one, being his friend and all.

But to your good friend’s demise, his ‘relationships’ never end up working out for very long. Theres always some kind of fatal flaw that’s a means to an end. Whether it was Jisung’s fault or the girls,  it’s always confused you why he could never hold onto something longer than a couple months. Jisung is a great guy, it didn’t make sense.

So great that you have been best friends with him for as long as you could remember. It all started that time in pre-k, where you poured a shovel of sand on his head in the sandbox. Initially, it did make him cry, but he got over it eventually. Ever since, he’s been right by your side, sandy hair and all.

“How much longer,” your eyes roll back in your head, neglecting to look at the watch on your wrist in fear that your shift has a significant amount of time left. The night has been dragging on since you stepped foot in the door and heard the little jingle as it opened. You wouldn’t be surprised if you’d only made it through half your shift thus far.

“Just under an hour. Want to start the closing checklist so we can get outta here?” Jisung offers, reaching for the rag and sanitation bucket at the end of the counter.

Nodding your head, you follow his plan – beginning your mission to clean like a speed demon so you can leave no later than at 8 o’clock on the dot. 

Luckily, closing tonight goes as smoothly as it possibly can. You and Jisung are ready to get out of there at 8 on the dot, thanks to your determination to mop like a mad woman and stock the front as fast as humanly possible. 

The air outside feels crisper than usual. Maybe its because you’ve been locked up in a small room that smells like coffee beans for 10 hours, but you’ll never get enough of the night air. 

“So what are we doing tonight?”Jisung asks, his fingers adjusting the headband that sits just above his forehead.

“I was planning on going home and getting some rest…” you trail off, avoiding eye contact with him. Jisung always goes out after your weekend shifts and never lets up on convincing you to tag along. So you can’t look at him, his eyes are much too convincing make contact with, and you are beyond exhausted from working a double today.

“Gah you’re so boring,” he teases, stopping in his tracks in the center of the parking lot to ruffle the hair on top of your head, “it was an early night we should do something.”

With a deep sigh, you stop as well, smoothing down your hair as a pout forms on your lips. The suggestive smirk settling across Jisung’s face is telling; he knows he’s about to get his way before you have the chance to turn him down or fish for another excuse. So you tilt your head, subtly rolling your eyes as you wait for him to explain what his big plans for tonight are.

“I’ll be at your house by 9.”

Accepting defeat, you shoot him a thumbs up before turning to get into your car. Asking any more questions would take away any time you had to wash up – and smelling like coffee beans any longer is going to drive you up a wall since it hasn't already.

It doesn’t take much time for you to rush home and get ready, and before you know it Jisung is there to pick you up. Only a few minutes late, but that’s just par for the course and right on time in Jisung terms. 

The car ride to your destination feels like a blur with how exhausted you are. So when you end up at your favorite boba spot, you immediately perk up. Those tapioca pearls always manage to give you a second wind.

But when Jisung decides to take a seat at one of the round tables just outside the shop instead of getting back in the car you know somethings up. You were expecting to hop back in the passenger seat of his car, maybe listen to some music for a while and drive around to kill time. 

Initially he doesn’t say much. His legs just bounce hyperactively while he fidgits with the straw of his drink. It’s almost like he’s waiting for you to speak up; his eyes staring down at the cup in front of him instead of sipping from it, lip caught between his teeth.

The energy is off. Not only did you expect to hang out and do something adventurous like Jisung normally would, but now you’re watching his cheeks grow red while avoiding conversation.

Awkward silence becoming too much to bear, you take matters into your own hands. “So how are things going with that girl?”

“Oh yeah,” he sighs, his fingertips drumming along the surface of the table, “she didn’t really work out.”

Unsurprised by his response, you just nod along. Its always to expect since he’s the pickiest person you’ve ever met. His last relationship ended because he thought the girl breathed too loudly. The girl before that had an annoying laugh, and then the one before that didn’t like cheesecake. There always seems to be a laundry list of deal-breakers tied along to each one of Jisung’s relationships, and that is something you’ll always expect.

“You’re probably better off.”

You don’t think much of the words before they leave your lips. Relationships are a ton of work, and you’ve never understood the point of to putting all your effort into something like that. There is a way to just be happy on your own, you know.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” his eyebrows furrowing in response, hands gripping his thighs in anticipation

“You know what I think,” you tilt your heat matter-of-factly, “relationships are kind of just a waste of time.”

“What is with you and all this ‘anti-love’ stuff anyway, Y/N?”

Now thats a response that you are not prepared for. The question catches you off guard, a boba bubble almost catching in your throat leaving you a coughing mess. Jisung chuckles at your discomfort, waiting patiently for you to get it all out and just answer his question, as uncomfortable as it is. 

“I’ve wasted too much time with too many dead-beat guys to even think about love,” you sigh again, your coughing fit subsiding as you reach for your cup once again.

“Not every guy is a dead-beat.”

His words carry a harsh bite to them, almost as if he finds you’ve said offensive. It burns his ego a bit, assuming that you’re grouping him in with all the guys you’ve been with in the past. Which is strange, Jisung should know that he’s different. For one, you’ve never dated him before and two, if he was such a dead-beat you wouldn’t have kept him around for so long.

You aren’t able to talk to guys, or most people for that matter, in the same way that you talk to Jisung. He’s the one you rant about all the assholes to. He knows all the shit that you don’t tell anyone else, he’s like your own personal human diary. Secrets are always safe with him, it's not like he has anyone who would listen to the gossip even if he wanted to tell.

After a minute of silence his expression changes, Jisung’s eyes squinting at you in that ‘I have a crazy idea’ type of way. It’s a look that you haven’t seen very often, and you can’t say that you’ll ever get used to it. 

“Okay then I’ll make you a deal,” he proposes, a glimmering look in his eye that made you somewhat nervous. You never know what you are getting with Jisung, but most of the time his ‘deals’ are on the crazier side.

“What is it?” You still ask although you’re a bit nervous to hear his answer. If his plan is to set you up with one of his delinquent friends or something–

“Be my girlfriend.”

Your eyes widen as the words fall from his tongue, confusion taking over your expression as a small chuckle slips past his lips. Instinctively your stomach tightens, the air around you now feeling a bit heaver each second time ticks on. He can't be serious…

“Your what?”

“Two weeks is all I’m asking for. Be my girlfriend for just two weeks, and I’ll show you that love isn’t as shitty as you think it is.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me” you shake your head, a disbelieving smile stretching wide across your face.

“C’mon Y/N,” he challenges, “it’s two weeks of your life, what else do you have to do? I think it could be fun.”

The quirk of his eyebrow and quick squint of his eyes grabs your attention. He’s serious about this, scarily serious, and you aren’t quite sure how to react to that.

“What’s in it for you?” Your chin falls into your palm as you stare at him, waiting for his response.

“Well for one,” he starts, a sigh leaving his lips, “if it works then I won’t have to listen to you complain about how much relationships suck anymore.”

Just when you don't think you can roll your eyes any further into the back of your head, your own actions surprise you. If looks could kill, the one you’re giving him right now would surely take him out. He doesn’t pay much mind to it though, he’s used to your sass and just shrugs it off.

“This is an awful idea,” you glare at him as if it will change his mind. You’re certain this experiment of his would not change your own. Love sucked, and that was that.

“Two weeks,” his voice carries a taunting tone, his eyebrows wiggling to entice you into his plan. He isn’t going to give up on this easily, you know Jisung. And Jisung always gets his way.

“Fine,” you huff, “two weeks and that’s it. And if my mind isn’t changed you owe me 3 more of these,” you say, picking up your boba from the table and shaking it at eye-level for emphasis.

His bottom lip catches between his teeth, satisfied with your response. He isn’t exactly sure how he’ll manage to pull this off, but he’s definitely up for the challenge.

“We start tomorrow at 8, I’ll pick you up after work.”

Crossing your arms over the table, you bury your head in your arms. This is going to be the most interesting two weeks of your entire life.

“Wait, you're like dating dating the Han Jisung?” Felix’s jaw drops, excitement prevalent on his face as you spill about your night with Jisung.

Felix is the only person in your life that understood your hatred for relationships, other than Jisung of course. Not that he shares the hatred himself, he’s just heard enough about how much you despise being in one to know just how you felt. He’s only heard about it every day for the past several summers.

Felix is your best friend, other than Jisung of course. He’s also the only person in this world that you could bear to work with on a Saturday morning. 

“That's the plan,” you sigh fiddling with the containers on the counter. It’s pretty slow for a Saturday morning, only a handful of customers have come in so far and it's already 11 am.

That’s the thing about working at a coffee shop – and it sucks when it's busy, and it sucks even more when it's slow. At least it isn't a terrible job, you at least have Jisung and Felix to keep you company and that's always worthwhile.

“And for the record,” you turn to look at Felix, a grin still evident on his face, “I don’t think this is gonna change my mind about the love stuff.”

“You know how Jisung is,” his eyebrow lifts, “so you never know. Maybe something could happen.” 

If anyone was surprised that you were dating someone, fake relationship or not, it would be Felix. On top of that, you’re dating Han Jisung. As in, the same Jisung that ended a 3-month relationship last year because the girl ‘smelled too much like peaches’ and it was ‘too good to be true.’ And now that you’re the one stuck with him for the next 14 days, it is only a matter of time until he finds the deal-breaking trait that turns him away from you.

“Okay no, that's exactly why this is only two weeks. If I know Jisung, he’ll be over it before the 2 weeks even ends.”

“Whatever you say,” the pitch of his voice is raised teasingly. You can tell he doesn’t believe this will be just a ‘two-week thing’ by the funny little look on his face. You hate that look, and you hate how Felix always seems to be right.

Subsequently Felix sees a lot of things that you aren’t able to see for yourself. You’ve grown up with Jisung, grown accustomed to his unique mannerisms and behaviors without even noticing. Felix, on the other hand, has a different point of view. 

He’s not in it like you are, so gets to see the way Jisung looks at you; the way he hangs on each and every word that leaves your mouth with a sparkle in his eye. He notices that Jisung longs to make you laugh. And he watches the toothy grin each that grows on your face each time a chuckle breaks through your lips. Felix notices every behavior that you see as nothing more than ‘friendly.’ But who is he to say? So, for now, the information remains tucked away and stored in his mind for a later date.

Your fingers drum on the clean marble countertop beside you, leaning against it as you wait for a customer to come in. All this time with nothing to do is really doing wonders for your imagination; thinking about what Jisung has planned for the two of you to do tonight. Nothing special, you hope, he really doesn’t need to go all out for this. 

The lack of customers and silence that's fallen among the shop is just making it easier for your mind to wander off. It was beginning to make you sick how much you were thinking about Jisung and nothing has even happened yet. It's not like you have any reason to be nervous, but keeping all these thoughts trapped in your thick skull is starting to give you a headache

“He’s picking me up after work.” You blurt it out without thinking much about it. No one is here, you might as well lay it all out there for Felix to know since there's nothing better to do.

“He’s picking you up? Like you’re going on a date?”

“Shut upppp,” your eyes roll at his teasing nature, growing slightly embarrassed by how giddy the thought of this ‘date’ is making him, and you for that matter. It’s just Jisung. And you are just hanging out like you do every other night. There's nothing different about tonight and you’ll be able to prove that to yourself and Felix by the next time you see him.

The rest of you shift flies by – it always does when you work with Felix. Before you know it, the closing checklist is coming to an end, only a few steps left before you can finally get out of here. The clock had just turned to 7:55 pm, but Jisung still isn’t here. Not that you’re expecting him to be on time or anything, this is still the same Jisung you have always known.

What you aren’t familiar with is the nervous butterflies fluttering around in your tummy as the clock approaches 8 pm.  What are you even nervous about? It isn’t a blind date, other than the fact that you have no idea what you’re doing. And it isn’t even a date. It’s Jisung for crying out loud.

Speaking of the devil, the chimes in the front of the shop ring as Jisung passes through the doorway. You don’t see who it is at first, your back turns to the door as you sweep behind the counter. The chimes ringing at this time of night do trigger your fight or flight instincts though, ready to turn to whoever is approaching and give them a dirty look for coming in this close to closing time.

But once you turn around and see Jisung standing in the doorway with a bouquet of sunflowers, your tension quickly subsides. You swear that you can feel your heart skip a beat, heat rising to your cheeks as you try your hardest to form a coherent sentence. It's okay that you aren’t able to, though, the surprised look on your face is enough for his smile to light up the room.

“I’m here to pick up the pretty girl with the espresso stain on her shirt,” he chuckles, his bottom lip catching between his teeth nervously.

Tonight he’s dressed a lot nicer than usual comfy attire; a nice shirt with a pair of dark jeans that hug his slim figure. His hair is a lot lighter too – a vast change from the midnight black strands that normally frame his face. He’s really going all out for this thing – and right now all that you’re wearing a pair of running shorts and a t-shirt with coffee stains down the front.

When you look to your right, Felix is just as stunned as you are. Frozen in his spot as his jaw practically sweeps the floor, he looks at you with wide eyes, his eyebrows raised as a smug expression crosses his face. For a second you contemplate asking him if he’s all set to finish the closing checklist on his own, but before you’re able to speak up he’s already shooing the two of you out the door.

With a goofy grin displayed across his face, Jisung hands you the bundle of flowers, tied together with a delicate white ribbon. You mumble a thank you, still stunned that he showed up here looking like that to take you out tonight. So he is the romantic type, note taken.

“You like nice,” you gulp nervously. It already feels like a date and you haven’t even left the parking lot yet. If this is how things are going to start you had an exciting 13 more days ahead of you...

“So do you,” he smirks, his eyes wandering down to the small brown stains littering your shirt. Eyes narrowing, you read the expression crossing his face – of course, he’s joking. “I brought you some fresh clothes to change into don’t worry.”

Relief rushes through your body as the words leave his lips, followed by a slight pull on your heart strings. Knowing he took the time to think about bringing you something else to wear so you didn’t have to sit in your coffee scented clothes all night made you feel warm in the strangest way. He’s thoughtful, and it's weirding you out – but in a good way.

“So, where are we even going?”

“You’ll see.”

A vague yet interesting, and very on-brand response from Jisung. He’s always been a fan of surprises – as long as he’s not on the receiving end.

The drive to your destination drags on forever. You aren’t quite sure how long you’ve been on your way; between your agile back seat changing of clothes, which you are surprisingly skilled at, and the anticipation coursing through your veins, you’ve lost track of time. All you know is that you’ve been driving along the backroads of your area for at least 15 minutes, and there is nothing around you to indicate that your destination is near.

“This is it.” The car pulls into a small dirt parking lot, dimly lit by some dingy street lights that aren’t doing a very good job at their primary function. It's pretty hard to see what’s around you, no matter how hard you squint and press your forehead to the window to get a better look.

“Where are we?” The question leaves your lips in a worried fashion. Trees surround the parking lot on all three-sides, while the road you've pulled in from occupies the fourth-side. You’re hesitant to get out of the car, but as Jisung rounds the front and opens the door for you, you’re on your way out. He motions for you to hold on as he pops the trunk – returning with a blanket and a reusable shopping bag filled with god knows what.

He still hasn’t given an answer to your question though, and you still aren’t quite sure where you are. If It was lighter out you assume it would be beautiful here, all the greenery dark and shadows hovering over you from the trees.

The bright light from his cell phone flashlight lights up the way, a path on your right

“Hell no,” your arms cross over your chest as you stand still in your place. He’s out of his mind if he thinks you’re going into the woods this late at night. You’ve seen enough horror films, stuff like this never ends well.

“C’mon, it’s not as bad as it looks,” Jisung laughs at your pouting manner, amusement filling his system as you glue your feet to the ground of the parking lot. His puppy dog eyes plead for you to follow him, a hand outreaching in your direction for the taking. You contemplate it for a moment, your eyes narrowing as you ponder the possible outcomes of the situation before you.

“Fine,” you huff as you take his hand in yours.

His hand feels different in yours this time. His long fingers lacing between your smaller ones in the perfect fit that you’ve neglected to notice before. You’ve held his hand before, platonically though. This time it’s platonic too though, right? It’s just a date. A platonic date between two friends. Two friends who are dating on a two week trial period. So yes, it is strictly platonic. Right?

The dirt path doesn’t drag on for too long, but the sounds of bugs ticking and twigs breaking beneath your feet is enough to startle you. Every scared and breathy gasp that  leaves your mouth is followed by a small fit of laughter from Jisung. At least one of you is amused.

But the dirt path soon turns rocky, a clearing becoming more and more noticeable as Jisung’s flashlight brightens the way ahead of you. The rows of trees come to an end as the ground flattens, a giant slab of rock lying beneath your feet. Out ahead of you is completely dark, and until you approach the darkness you don’t notice that you’re just a few yards away from the edge of a cliff. A river lies below the edge, the sound of water rushing fills your ears and calms your nerves. It is quiet out here, peaceful and without distraction.

Jisung stands back as you admire the scenery around you – your own phone flashlight now out and panning around to look at the view. It’s beautiful out here, nothing to worry about but the sounds of the water and whatever Jisung is doing behind you…

You couldn’t have zoned out for more than 2 minutes, but once you turn back around to face him a picnic blanket lies on the ground before you. Snacks scatter the extent of the fabric, a few candles placed in the center

“You really went all out for this, huh?” A nervous laugh leaves your lips before you swallow harshly. Never in your life has a guy ever gone all out like this for you. A late-night picnic at a secret location, fixed with all of your favorite snacks and some candles for ambiance.

“Had to,” he smiles, “it’s our first date.”

You join him on the blanket, grabbing for a bag of popcorn as you sit down. Maybe relationships wouldn’t suck so much if all men treated you like this…

But it’s just Jisung. Jisung who already knows all your favorite things to eat. He’s just trying to be convincing – to prove to you that men take you on dates, do nice things. But stuff like this never lasts. Two weeks from now you’ll be going back to the same old Jisung and Y/N friendship that you’ve always had.

The conversation goes on as normal tonight, he doesn’t make any moves (as expected, it’s Jisung) and you enjoy the view and calm atmosphere with your fake but not so fake boyfriend. You stay out on the cliff for a few more hours before he takes you home. Jisung put a lot of effort into making tonight special, and you appreciate him for that. But even after all his effort, you know that real relationships aren’t like this.

Every guy you’ve dated would try to woo you over in the beginning too. They call it the honeymoon stage for a reason. Things are always great in the beginning, lavish gifts and dates, loving gestures. That kind of thing never lasts. Soon the effort runs out, the guy gets bored of putting the work in, and they end up sleeping with your freshman year roommate. Well, at least that's how it is for you.

The bundle of sunflowers Jisung gave to you earlier on in the night sits on the end table next to your bed. Each time you look at them all you can picture is the goofy grin he sported as he stood at the entrance of the coffee shop. It replays in your mind like a movie. How he dressed up all spiffy just to take you out. How he took you to a spot only he knew about, somewhere so off-site and serene that he knew you’d remain uninterrupted. You can’t help but wonder if he’s using the same old tricks on you that he does to other girls though. If he only knew about that place because he’s taken someone there before.

Not that it matters though, you aren’t his real girlfriend. You’re just on a trial period. But for some reason the thought that he might have brought another girl to the same spot before doesn’t sit well with you.

“Sooooo,” Felix teases, letting his chin fall into his palm as he leans on the counter before him, “how was your date with Y/N?”

Jisung chuckles at his nosiness, he’s sure you’ve already told Felix all about it. There are no secrets left between you two. Even sometimes Jisung felt like the odd man out when you’re all together.

“It was good.”

Jisung keeps his answer short, leaving the rest up to his imagination. He isn’t one to kiss and tell – or to not kiss and tell. Keeping his private life all to himself is something he takes pride in, things are just better that way.

“Just good?” Felix challenges, knowing there is much more that he’s leaving out. His eyes narrow as he waits for his response. You haven’t told him anything about last night, not even where you went after he picked you up. Things are radio silent on your end, which left Felix dying to know what actually happened on your ‘date that wasn't a real date.’

Jisung glances back at him, contemplating whether or not he should spill the beans. It would be kind of nice to have someone else to confide in. Especially since it's always you on the receiving end of his secrets; however, this may be the one secret that you don’t know of.

He chews on his bottom lip pensively, if anyone knows what’s on your mind, it would be Felix. Not that Jisung would ever want to pry, there's just no indication of how you feel about last night, or about him. Before Jisung can even open his mouth to speak, a knowing smirk is spread wide across Felix’s face. It’s that kind of look that makes him nervous – he knows something.

“You like her don’t you,” he muses, rubbing his hands together smooths as the words catch in the air. It’s out there now – and it’s obvious. Well, maybe not obvious, but it's clear as day to Felix – and that is more than enough to make Jisung worry.

“I don’t,” Jisung denies the other boy’s claim, his willpower too strong to give in.

“Oh yeah? So why do you self sabotage every one of your relationships then?”

The words catch Jisung off guard; his jaw clenching harshly as an annoyed breath is forced out of his nostrils. He wants to deny the claim once again, but he can’t bring himself to keep brushing off these feelings that have had a grip on him ever since he was young.

Felix is right too. He does sabotage each relationship that comes his way. Jisung goes out of his way to find something wrong with each girl he dates. He can never admit it to himself, but in the back of his mind, he knows that it's the fact that none of those girls are you. None of the girls he’s ever met could ever match up to all that you are. In his mind, you held the perfect score, and no one else had ever come close.

“It’s written all over your face every time you look at her you know.”

There's no way he’s that obvious... Did his feelings show that much whenever he was around you?

“What do you mean?” Jisung clarifies, the small once of hope bearing weight in his chest that Felix will follow up with a ‘just kidding’ or change the subject. Only the silence that falls on the room is enough of a response for Jisung to get the clue. 

“Just please don’t tell her,” he avoids eye contact with the other boy, hand gripping harshly on the countertop as he stares down at the black and white checkered tile. “I just wanted to see if I could change her mind – about the love stuff, you know?”

The second you find out about Jisung’s feelings all bets would be off. There’s no way you’d let your little arrangement continue, not if either of you could end up hurt. And he knows you only agreed to this because there is nothing between you romantically, it was a deal between two friends. The second feelings get involved, everything gets all mushy and confusing, and Jisung can’t lose you.

Felix bears his weight on the counter behind him, leaning comfortably on the cool glass. “Believe me, I want her to be done with that ‘I hate love thing’ just as much as you do,” he sighs, looking around momentarily before he clears his throat. “Want me to be honest?”

“Please.”

“I think you might be the only one who can change her mind.”

Jisung’s heart skips a beat once the words leave Felix’s mouth. Blood rushes to his ears, pumping like a snare drum as he considers his thoughts. His stomach begins to twist as he considers it, almost confused about what Felix means, but not willing to accept it. You only agreed to fake-date him, you still hate love.

A comfortable silence fills the air, Felix watching him as his lips roll between his teeth, deep in thought. Change your mind. The words repeat in Jisungs head like a broken record. That’s what he’s trying to do, all for the right reasons of course. So that you don’t  have to be so miserable about it anymore. 

But behind those selfless reasons are several smaller, selfish ones. He gets to be with you as more than a friend now, and although it’s nothing more than some kind of test run, he can’t help but feel like this can be something more too. It’d be crazy to ignore the feeling he has deep in his chest, and maybe it's a sign not to.

“Like you think…” Jisung gulps, clearing his throat as the words stutter out of his mouth, “I could get her to fall for me?”

The lack of response that Felix gives is ominous, but the raise of his eyebrows and toothy grin forming on his face needs no words to tell. 

If anyone is to change your mind, it’ll be Jisung.

That night Jisung took you to the drive-in movies. To be quite honest, you couldn’t really recall what was playing, some Pixar film with bugs as the main character if you could remember it correctly. You were far too distracted laughing with Jisung, watching as young kids played around on a grassy patch near his car. The giggles that left his lips each time the little girl waved to him were music to your ears. You never noticed how much he loved kids, how good he was with them.

The image of his hands clasped together as he fawned over the little girl, picking dandelions in the grass and racing to place them by your feet was burned into your memory. The boxy grin that graced his face all night long. The way his eyes squinted from his cheeks, pushing up as he smiled so big. The whispers of the word ‘cute’ each time her pigtails bounced while she toddled away.

Missing the movie doesn't disappoint you. If anything, the memories you've saved from tonight are more than enough.

The next night you were unable to go out, the shop was so busy that you were not able to leave until an hour and a half after your shift was supposed to end. Some punk kid dropped a cup of iced coffee on the floor on his way out and decided it would be best to leave it there without cleaning anything up or letting you know. Maybe if it hadn’t been so busy then you would have noticed the spill before it dried up and there were coffee stains stuck to the tile floors.

Naturally, you spent a good 15 minutes trying to mop up all the stickiness on the floor. But to your luck, Jisung is working with you that night. Once all the customers left the shop he hooked his phone up to the speakers, grabbed your hands, and danced you around the shop. Well, it was supposed to be dancing but it probably looked more like Jisung swinging your arms as you attempted to not trip over your own feet.

It makes up for not getting to go out though, and you’d take a night like that over a fancy dinner any chance you got. 

It’s been 12 days since you became Jisung‘s girlfriend, and as the remaining days decreased, so did your hatred for love. Each night he planned something special. The real kicker was the texts that you get once he makes it home from dropping you off every night. A simple ‘I had a great time tonight’ was enough to make your heart swell and heat rise to your cheeks.

And as you notice your hatred for love and relationships leaving you, you notice another feeling enter your system. Or several feelings…

Things are getting just as sticky as the night when two frappuccinos splattered all over the shop floor, whipped cream and all. Spending time with Jisung like this is bringing some things to the surface you didn’t know were buried in the first place.

Every night that you spent with Jisung over the past 12 days allowed you to see him in a new light. You got to see him on a different level than just friends. You got to see what every girl that fawns over Jisung experiences.

Something about your friendship never let you jump past that barrier. You only see him as a dear friend of yours. Nothing more and nothing less. And now the issue is that...you aren’t sure how you’ll ever go back to see him as such.

You like Jisung as more than a friend, that's for sure. And you know because of that things will never be able to go back to the way they once were.

Maybe you're reading too much into it, but your gut is telling you that you aren't the only one feeling this way.

The feeling of butterflies that pound in your stomach each time you meet eyes with him has to be reciprocated. There is just no way you can be feeling this way and he isn’t.

This isn’t like the feelings you’ve caught for any guy before, this is something else. Every night when you go home you lay in bed, staring at your ceiling with a dumb grin on your face as you think about your time together, about him. About the way his black curly hair falls in front of his eyes each time he looks down and how his smile lights up every room he was in.

These things that you were so blind to before can’t escape your thoughts, and it makes you wonder how many times or things you’ve looked over that make you melt, just like you are right now.

But in just 2 days, this trial-boyfriend period will be over, and you’ll have to go back to being just friends. Each day, each hour, each minute that approaches feels heavier and heavier. Anxiety floods your system each time you think about things being over, or that this arrangement you have isn’t even real.

When you think about the growing feelings you have for him, you honestly can't imagine what your life will be like any other way. What it would be like going back to just hanging out here and there. And what it would be like

You can’t even fathom thinking about what it would be like hearing him talk about another girl again. It makes you sick thinking that there's going to be someone after you, because in just 5 days this will be all over, and you’ll go back to being the girl best friend, nothing more.

Maybe it’s just wishful thinking that Jisung has more feelings for you too. But the glimmer in his eyes as his bangs brush out of his eyes and they land on you tells a different story. When he looks at you it feels like you are the only two people on earth. He sees nothing else but you, and the way your eyes sparkle back at him.

Each day you spend with Jisung after that feels like a wrench tightening the screws of your heart. 14 days is just not enough.

“Earth to Y/N,” Felix says waving a hand in your face.

You must have zoned out, for god knows how long.

“Thinking about Jisung?”

“What?” you immediately straighten your posture and brush yourself off before responding, “N-no…I’m just thinking.”

“Right,” the sarcasm drips from his lips, not sparing you any time to save yourself as he turns away, beginning to wipe off the tables in the front.

For personal reasons, you’ve kept Felix out of the loop during this whole “fake-boyfriend Jisung” thing. It’s better if you keep your feelings to yourself until you figure them out. And although it feels really really strange not giving Felix the intel on what’s going on in your life, you know it’s for your own good.

Once you put what is in your head out into the world, you can’t take it back. And what if all these things that you’re feeling is just a part of the honeymoon-phase. If that even existed anyway… But if all these feelings for Jisung are due to him trying to woo you and change your mind, everything will just fade away as things return back to normal. And then you’ll be left loving him in silence while you watch him blow through relationships like a leaf blows through the wind.

Something in you tells you that this isn't the case, but the small shadow of doubt in the back of your mind keeps you from talking to your best friend about it anyway.

The thing is, you don't have to tell Felix for him to know. Every time Jisung picks you up from work to take you out you shine. Your smile spreads so wide he’s afraid your cheeks will tear. The nervous shake of your fingers as you grab for your belongings as you head out the door doesn’t go unnoticed in Felix’s eyes. He knows you too well to look over things like this, he just wanted to wait for you to say something first.

But now that you aren’t, Felix has decided to take matters into his own hands, asking you about it himself.

“Felix,” you start, waiting for his attention before you pull out a stool, sitting down and motioning for him to follow suit. Quickly he does, a questioning but knowing look evident on his face as the stool squeaks under him. “You know how this thing between Jisung and I is just an experiment or whatever?”

He nods in response, his hand quickly falling into his palm as he listens intently to your words.

“I think I messed up.” Your head is buried in your arms, laid over the tabletop in embarrassment.

“What do you mean?”

His question is more for clarification, he wants to hear you say it yourself. Felix knows that you’re gonna tell him that you’ve already caught feelings. He sees it coming from a mile away, you confirming it is just the icing on the cake.

“Don’t make me say it,” you whine, neglecting to pick your head up and look at him. You can feel the grin on his face. You know he's smirking at you right now, doing his best to hold back a laugh. Finally, you over the ‘I hate love and relationships suck’ thing.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” he sings, quite obviously teasing you while another deep sigh echoes from your chest. You manage to pick your head up, leaning onto your elbows with your chin caught between your palms as you face him.

“I like him.”

It comes out as a whisper, but Felix hears it loud and clear. If you didn’t know better, you’d assume that the smile on his face can't grow any larger, but it does. He jumps up from his chair in victory, doing a funny dance with his arms whooping in the air to celebrate. You’re confused as to why, but you’re too far in your own thoughts to pay it any mind; your head just sinks back into your arms as your forehead presses against the cold metal table beneath you.

“I knew it,” Felix smiles, his happy dance subsiding as he positions himself back down across from you. “I knew this fake dating thing was gonna work.

“Yeah well it really worked, because now I have feelings for a guy that’s never gonna reciprocate them for me.” Your tone is laced with sarcasm, a disappointing ring sounding off on each of your words. You’re too embarrassed to look at the boy sitting before you, worried that if you do all the emotions you’ve been holding onto for so long will spill over and stain your stone-cold image; one you’ve maintained for far too long.

But Felix is your best friend. The only one that you should be comfortable being vulnerable about your feelings for Jisung with; for some reason all you can’t bring yourself to be. Before you can get a grip on your emotions tears are streaming down your face and falling onto the cold metal surface under you in small puddles. 

A sympathetic sigh leaves Felix’s lips as he tries to gain your attention, “Hey.”

Inhaling deeply, you face him – mascara strewn across your face in black streaks and eyes nearly bloodshot. You’ve held this in for far too long. Only a double would tire you out and exhaust you enough to cry on the clock. Thank god it’s a rainy day, no customers ever come in on rainy days.

Or at least, no customers usually come in on rainy days. It's not until you hear the bells on the front door ring that you’re wiping your eyes, whipping around to greet whoever was entering.

And then you see him, standing there as he shakes out his umbrella, a bouquet of sunflowers in his hand.

And he sees you; mascara running down your face and tears staining your cheeks. He’s early. Your stomach turns at the sight of him, emotions not stable enough to handle carry a normal conversation like  

“Y/N,” his voice is quiet, worry dripping in his tone as your name leaves his lips. But you can’t face him right now, not like this.

Your feet move faster than you mind, standing up and rushing to the back to avoid him. Jisung doesn’t follow you, just stands there and watches you walk away, solemn and worried that he’s done something. 

It’s not until Felix is rising from his seat and pacing over to him that he’s brought back to reality.

“Jisung...” he starts, hands coming up slowly to console him, “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be here right now.”

“Wh-what’s wrong?” His lip worries between his teeth, eyes glossy as he stares at the door you just closed behind you. He’s looking at it intently, mind flooding with worry, wishing so badly that the door will just fly open, and you’ll tell him what was going on. In the back of his mind, he knows that you won’t, at least not for now. Talking about emotions has never been your strong suit, and chances of that changing at this moment are at an all-time low.

Felix is unsure how to answer him, caught in between not wanting to lie and keeping your feelings private. He can’t speak for you; but he’s scared that saying nothing could just make this whole situation worse.

His mouth gapes as he searches for a response to his question, lips opening and closing while he hums to himself.

The umbrella hanging from Jisung’s hand drops with a crash, starling Felix as he jumps at the sudden sound. But before he is even able to speak, the bell to the front door is ringing again, and Jisung is walking away into the pouring rain.

The next day you wake up feeling numb. You’ve received several texts from Jisung the night before, none of which you have the energy to reply to or even look at for that matter.

The guilt riddling your body has become too much for you to handle. You left work last night without even saying goodbye to Felix. He’s a good enough friend and coworker to know that what you’re going through is more important than working the counter at an coffee shop. 

After Jisung left, Felix came back and let you know; he almost had to break down the door to the backroom in order for you to let him in. He told you to go home, get some rest and that you’d talk tomorrow.

But after waking up the last thing you want to do is talk about Jisung, it hurts enough just thinking about him.

Every time you thought about how your arrangement was supposed to end in just a few days you felt sick. You have worked so hard to open up just to build your walls back up again. And now you’re back at square one.

When you agreed to be Jisung’s girlfriend you did not expect to fall for him like this. He’s Jisung for god’s sake. He’s your personal diary, he’s the one who knows all the shit that nobody else does. And he’s the only one that listens to all the dumb shit you have to say that no one else cares about.

Feelings ruin everything. Love sucks, and you knew this before you agreed. You agreed under the circumstances that Jisung could show you that relationships could be fun; not under the circumstances that he would make you fall in love with him,

And the more that you think about it, maybe you were always in love with him. Maybe you always had these feelings for him, but they were trapped in the tight bonds of friendship that your subconscious never let you out.

But none of that even mattered now. The deal had to be off, and you need to distance yourself from Jisung before you are hurt any worse. The longer this goes on the worse that you are going to feel when it's all over.

How are you supposed to go back to normal after this? Like is Jisung thinking that showing you how amazing relationships are, you won't fall for him or something? Or does his true plan consist of making you fall in love with him, just to string you along like every other girl he's dated?

You’re trapped in the never-ending spiraling thoughts, soiling your image of Jisung with each new theory that crosses your mind. None of them are good. All of them paint him as a player, as someone who just used you.

But the little thump in your heart when you notice the sunflowers placed on your bedside table wants your mind to change. Your heart wants you to believe that Jisung feels something too, that throughout this arrangement he has seen a different side to you too – that he’s fallen for you just like you have for him.

It's a knock at your door that guides you out of your thoughts. The repetitive tapping at your front door that drags you out of bed. And when you check your peephole and it's no one else, but your small blonde best friend standing on your doorstep that has relief rushing through your system.

The door cracks open, Felix standing there with an umbrella in his hand – even though it was nearly 100º with clear skies.

“Why are you still in your pajamas? It's noon.”

Suddenly, he pushes past you and invites himself into to your living room. Plopping down on your couch, Felix makes himself comfortable as he waits for you to join. You spin on your heels, an exhausted breath leaving your mouth as you pace over to him, plopping down on the next cushion over.

“Why the umbrella?” Your brow furrows as he hands it over. You take it though, still confused behind the meaning of the object that you're holding and where it came from.

“It’s Jisung’s.”

You nearly drop it as his name leaves his lips. The name causes your stomach to tighten, mouth-drying instantly as emotions well behind your eyes.

“Why?” Is all you can mutter out. Why was he giving it to you, why is he here, and why did he have it?

“You need to bring it back to him.” He says sternly, his eyes locked on you as he waits for you to look back at him. But you’re too focused on the umbrella placed gently in your hands, tracing your finger over every wire and the soft rubber handle.

“I can’t.” Your words come out in a whisper, breath light and airy as you sigh, sinking your body back into the couch cushions. Giving the umbrella back to Jisung will mean that you have to go see him. And if you see him, he’s going to want to talk to you about last night, then question you about why you haven’t been returning his texts. No. You will not be giving Jisung his umbrella back.

“Y/N,” your name leaves his mouth gently, a sigh following it before he reaches for you, rubbing your arm comfortingly before continuing, “I think you need to talk to him.”

“Felix you know I can’t do that.”

You’re serious in your words. Not that you don’t want to talk to Jisung. You most definitely want to – and if you could, you would. But you can’t. There are too many emotions involved. The wound is fresh and seeing him would be rubbing salt right into it.

“Y/N,” he sighs, this time more forceful, like he’s trying to get something across to you but it's going right over your head. “Talk to him. Please.”

“You know I’m going to end up hurt if I do.” Tears well in your eyes as the words croak from your throat. It's dry and scratchy, full of fear and anxiety.

“I think you’d be surprised,” he mumbles, his eyes instantly widening on realizing the words that just escaped. Eyes wide with confusion, you’re begging him to go on, but if he does then Jisung won’t be the only one in deep shit right now. It's not up to Felix to tell you what he knows this time. 

“What do you mean I’ll be surprised?”

“I have to go,” he stands instantly, motioning to the umbrella, “and you need to bring this back.”

With a slight ruffle to your hair, Felix is giving you a supporting smile and waving goodbye. And you’re left alone once again – just you and Jisung’s blue umbrella.

It takes a lot of courage to get ready today. You make sure to take your sweet time rummaging through your closet, flipping through articles of clothing for the better half of an hour. At the end, you opt to go with a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt. There isn't enough energy in your body to put on anything else, and you know you’ll just want to curl back up in bed once you get home. Sweatpants are safe, and safe is just what you need.

No makeup today either. If things are anything like you’re expecting, your makeup will just end up ruined anyway. It's your better judgment to shower though, you’ve neglected to take one after work last night; opting to just bury yourself under your covers as soon as you got back. But today is a new day. And with a fresh shower and your comfiest pair of sweatpants, you are about as ready as you’ll ever be to get your heart broken into a billion pieces. 

Umbrella in hand, you step out onto your front steps, relishing in your last few moments of ignorant bliss before making your way to Jisung’s. You immediately regret your wardrobe decision as the sun beats down on your frame, the humidity making you feel sticky and gross – your favorite pants are  no match for this heat.

But you’re on your way to your destination anyway, the drive feeling longer and more drawn out than normal. Jisung didn’t live that far away from you, but the ride there still felt like an eternity with each theoretical scenario passing your mind. 

Dragging your feet, you make your way to the front steps of his house. You’ve been here a million times, but today is different. From now on, every time you drive past this place all you’ll know is heartache.

You brush yourself off, taking a deep breath before bringing your hand up and pushing the doorbell. The sudden ringing sound startles you, even though you have every indication that it’s coming – you’re just too nervous and jumpy for your own good.

Footsteps approach the door, your stomach tightening more and more with the muffled pitter-patter of footsteps. You’re praying to God that it’s his mom, hoping that Jisung just so happens to be out – even though his car is in plain sight parked just a few meters away from you. Wishful thinking, you suppose.

When the door to his house opens, you struggle to maintain your composure. He’s dressed similarly to you; a pair of sweats and an old sports t-shirt that has definitely seen better days.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

His eyes are sunken in, dark circles dragging underneath his eyes and his lips pulled downwards. He looks like a sad puppy, his dark hair all scruffy and sticking up in each direction – probably from him running his hands through it so many times. 

“I came to give you this,” you extend the umbrella out before you. He nods before taking hold of it, his hand far at the opposite end making sure not to keep his distance. The more you look at him, the more sorry you feel for dodging his texts. He looks like he hasn’t slept a wink, and you’re afraid it’s all because of you.

“Oh...uh, thanks,” he struggles to make eye contact with you, looking down at the object in his hand. 

It’s awkward, uncomfortable, and you can’t seem to find the words to say to break this strange tension between the two of you. He’s acting weird, shifting his weight back and forth but not moving away to close the door. His mind is racing once again – contemplating whether or not to just invite you in or leave it at that.

But with every aching bone in his body, he musters up the courage to lift his head, looking you directly in the eyes. Their dark like his, definitely from the lack of sleep you had the night before. Your mouth is turned downward too; hands fiddling together to try and distract yourself.

“D-Do you wanna come in?” He stutters, stepping aside slowly as he gestures towards his house. He suddenly worries when you don’t respond right away, taking a second to contemplate if this is a good idea or not. Ripping off the band-aid is never easy, but it needs to be done.

“Sure,” is the word that you decide on – hoping that it doesn’t make you seem disinterested or too desperate to talk. Maybe he’s just being kind though. Maybe it’s an empty offer, something that you say when you’re trying to be nice, but subconsciously hope that they won’t take you up on it. Like when you offer to share your food with someone, but you’re really hungry. You do it to be nice, not because you actually want to split the delicious looking burger and fries on your plate.

He leads you inside and to his bedroom. It looks the same as always, but it feels different. It still smells like him though, the comforting woodsy scent of pine and mahogany that he always reaches for. But that comforting scent is anything but comfortable. You’re frozen in place, unsure if you should sit on his bed and make yourself at home, much like every other time in the past. For now you just stand in the doorframe, waiting for him to tell you to take a seat, just like any polite guest would. A guest. You have never felt like a guest in his home before, or around Jisung in general. But that imaginary wall between the two of you is standing tall and sturdy, and suddenly the two of you are reverted back to being strangers.

You watch as he toys with something on his desk, his fingers dancing from object to object and sifting through papers to look busy. The point of it – unknown to you but to him, he’s buying time. Trying to think of the first thing to say, what to ask, or if you even wanted to talk. Maybe you only agreed to come inside to be nice. Maybe you were too worried about hurting his feelings if you said no. But alas, here you are, standing awkwardly in his doorway as he shuffles around his room, his brain flooding with thoughts – but his mouth can not form them into audible words.

“I’m sorry for ignoring your texts.”

Your voice catches his attention, dropping whatever paper he’s looking at now and turning his gaze to you. You’re sunken into yourself, your chest thumping with anxiety as his eyes begin to wander your frame. Not in a ‘I’m checking you out’ manner though; more of a ‘you look so sad and I don’t know what to say to you right now’ kind of way. 

It’s true though, he doesn’t know what to say – which is why he’s staring at you, hoping the right words would just pop up and he didn’t have to use any brain-power at all. He doesn’t want to say ‘it's okay,’ because it's not. You never ignore his texts, and that alone tells him enough about what's going on. You are upset at him.

“What did I do wrong, Y/N?”

His words sound accusatory but his tone is soft, gentle and full of worry. Eyes swollen and looking like they are about to fill to the brim with tears, his sight is focused on you; now not able to look away.

“I-I don’t know…”

Your answer is honest. You don’t know if his intentions are dirty. Yeah, that’s what you thought initially, but looking at him with such hurt written all over his face tells a different story. 

Jisung is silent, unsure of what more he can do or say to make you talk to him. He can’t force you to open up, he never has and he never will – that’s always been his rule. Everything you’ve shared with him has been on your own terms and conditions. Jisung has always been here to be your listening ear, but he never prys.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

His voice is soft, eyes full of sympathy as he holds himself together. Those were the words he has been looking for. Now the ball is in your court and you’ll have to be the one leading the conversation. It’s just what he needed to figure this shit out.

“I-I don’t know.”

“Y/N,” he sighs as he drops himself down onto the mattress, “I shouldn’t have to say this for you to know it, but you know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

You do know that. You really, really do. But this time things are different. Is he expecting you to just come out and speak your truth like there won’t be consequences? No, he won’t push you to tell him anything you don’t want to. But the worry in his eyes and clammy hands are begging for you to just let it out so he can stop being in the dark.

You sigh out an ‘okay’ before sitting down beside him. 

Rip the band-aid off Y/N. Quick and painless.

His eyes narrow, almost to a squint, staring right through you in hopes of reading your thoughts. Your expression is nothing but blank as you try your best to gain some sort of composure. Do you just speak up and spill your guts? The words replay in your mind over and over until your thoughts are beat down and misshapen. 

You can picture his face when you say it; disgusted with a trace of disappointment and some confusion spread into the mix. Or maybe he’ll laugh at how pathetic you were, catching feelings for your fake boyfriend.

That’s it. There’s no way you can tell him. It would be much easier to just get up and leave. Tell him to pretend like none of this ever happened and that you needed some time to cool off. A few months maybe, or maybe you could just ghost him entirely. 

“Y/N?”

The sound of his voice breaks you out of your toxic thoughts, and his chocolate brown eyes bring you back down to earth. You can’t just leave him in the dust. He’s looking at you like you’re the only thing that exists. Things will be okay, right?

“Sorry, sorry,” you exhale deeply as you calm your thoughts; shifting the nasty scenarios out and accepting that whatever happens after this conversation is your fate. 

“Jisung, I-I guess I wasn’t expecting this boyfriend-girlfriend thing we’re doing to go like this.”

His brow quirks at your words, confusion riddling his expression as his eyes narrow. With a tilt of his head, he’s pushing you to continue, visibly riddled with your choice of words.

“Swear you’ll be honest when I ask you this?” You question him, your hand moving closer to his as you lean in slightly. He’s like a magnet, you can’t help yourself from moving closer; even though the proximity of the two of you is clouding your thoughts and you can feel your heart beginning to swell.

He nods in response to your question, his eyes full of concern as he waits for you to continue, “Why did you ask me to do this thing?”

He knows that a question like this was coming, only if he could have prepared for it. But he didn’t, so his throat is left dry and scratchy as his mouth opens, only to stutter a bit before closing it back up. No coherent thoughts or words are able to escape his lips, just nonsense mumbling that caught himself off guard.

With a deep breath, he closes his eyes, regaining his composure before he can face you again. He agreed to be honest, and if honesty is what you want, honesty is that you’ll get.

“I’m sorry.” That’s all that he can say. 

Oh no. This is exactly what you were expecting before you came here. He’s gonna tell you that he didn’t mean to mess with your emotions, that he felt you catching feelings and got carried away. That he’s sorry that he ruined your friendship and played you like a violin all at once.

“Me too.”

You don’t know why you’re apologizing, but you are. It feels wrong. Absolutely utterly, and undoubtedly wrong. Apologizing for your own feelings is not something that you are okay with. Especially when he made you fall for him like this. Okay so maybe thinking that is giving him too much power, but who the hell takes you out on dates for nearly 2 weeks straight just to laugh about it later. How can he expect you to not catch feelings for him? With his deep voice and fluffy hair that always hangs in front of his eyes, that little giggle he has when he finds something amusing. Everything about him was attractive. And you’ve fallen for it all. Hard.

“Wait, why are you sorry?”

A scoff escapes your mouth unintentionally, but it’s well deserved. “For being the idiot to fall for a guy that was playing her, I guess.”

You can’t look at him any longer, so your eyes fall to your lap, staring at your chipped nail polish and dirty fingernails instead of reading whatever dumb expression he has now. But if you just took a second to look up, you’d notice the widening of his eyes, how his fingers are beginning to shake and his mouth gape. 

“Wh-What?”

“Don’t make me say it again Jisung, I don’t feel like sounding stupid one more time.”

“No no I heard you, it's just,” his eyes slam shut, angry at himself that he let things get this far without keeping you in the loop. 

You’ve been telling him that you hate love for years now. After hearing it so many times, he’d just given up on the thought of you. Maybe if he said something before you went through all those shitty guys things could have been different. But he’s let this go on for far too long, and now you’re the one that was paying the price. 

“Y/N I have feelings for you.”

Your neck nearly breaks with how fast your head snaps up. He’s the one looking away now, his cheeks a bit rosy as he tries to hide himself. He isn’t doing a very good job though, his hair is only shadowing his eyes and you can clearly see the way he’s nervously chewing on his lip; a cute habit you have grown fond of these past couple of weeks.

If he didn’t look like he does right now, you’d assume he was messing around. But you know Jisung. You know his small little gestures and what they mean by now. You know when he’s being serious and when he’s telling a lie. He can look someone dead in the eye and lie to them, but when he tells the truth, he becomes shy and worried that he’s said the wrong thing. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You ask softly, gently reaching for his hand. The subtle contact makes him flinch, reacting by pulling your hand away. But his eyes meet your sympathetic ones, sparkling just like they always do, and he knows what he wants.

Jisung’s hand reaches back for yours, lacing his fingers through yours before giving your hand a light squeeze. “You hate relationships,” he chuckles lightly, the mood of the room instantly shifting as the laughter leaves his lips. 

“I hated the ones that weren’t with you,” you correct him, but your voice comes across as just a whisper. He’s close enough to hear though, a blushing grin forming on his face as you shyly look away. His heart flutters when he hears it, a million butterflies erupting in his tummy all at once.

“I hated the ones that weren’t with you too,” he coos, his eyes wide and sparkling as he looks at you with such adoration. 

Time moves in slow motion as his hand meets your cheek, your eyes look deeply into his chocolate ones as he moves in closer. As your eyelids flutter shut his tongue runs across his bottom lip, wetting the surface before closing the distance between you. Finally.

And in that moment you’re at peace. Everything you thought you’ve ever hated, love, relationships, and maybe Jisung for a hot second, are the only things that you long for. The 14 days don’t have to be over, and your days no longer have to be counted. When you’re with Jisung you’re happy, you’re comfortable, and you're confident that he can give you what you have always deserved – but have never gotten. 

His lips move against yours in slow, languid motions, his large hands holding you close like he’s holding on for dear life. But you won’t leave even if you want to, not now, not after all this. 

Slowly, Jisung shifts his weight and you move in succession. He’s laying you down on his bed, gently climbing over you without breaking the kiss. Things are becoming more heated now, you can feel it as his hungry lips devour your own. Your chest heaves up to meet his, your back arching off the mattress as his hands begin to scour your body. The heat pooling in between your legs is growing, an aching sensation overwhelming your core as your own hands reach up to rake through his long, fluffy hair. And you can tell he wants you too, the thin fabric of his sweatpants doing little to conceal the growing erection pressing against your thigh. 

You can’t help but let out a steep moan as his hips begin to grind into yours. Needy groans fall past his lips and onto yours as you roll your hips upwards to meet his small ruts. 

In a leisurely motion, Jisung’s body is moving upwards, his knee finding a place between your legs as he brings himself up to a kneeling position. You chase his lips the entire way there, sitting up straight to be sure the contact doesn’t vanish, too consumed by your need for him to leave his lips.

And then his needy hands are running along the waistband of your sweats, fiddling with the tie before breaking your heated kiss. “Is this okay?” His words come out in a whisper, his eyes searching yours for any signs of doubt, but all he sees is lust.

“Yes,” you confirm, out of breath from making-out for so long without coming up for air. The lightheaded feeling taking over you goes unnoticed though, and quite frankly you’re too caught up in Jisung to care.

Quickly, he rids you of your pants, looking back up at you for confirmation about your underwear. With an affirmative nod he’s removing those too, leaving you completely bare from the waist down as he stands over you fully clothed.

But soon he’s ridding himself of his own clothing, his shirt being pulled at the nape of his neck as he discards it across the room. He’s leaning back down to you, hungry for the feeling of your lips. He misses it, even though it's been less than a minute since he’s last felt your smooth lips on his. 

You won’t open your eyes to see, but with the shuffling movements and shaky connection between your mouths you can tell Jisung is stripping himself of any remaining clothing he has on. He’s needy, unable to wait any longer to get down to business, he’s already waited long enough.

You’re the one who breaks the kiss this time, too curious to see what he’s sporting down below for your own good. But you are not disappointed once you see it – he’s long and girthy; the pigment a shade or two darker from his skin tone than the rest of his body.  Your thoughts are wandering, wondering what it's like to have him inside of you; dreaming about what he feels like. Arousal pools at your core, mouth salivating as your daydreams linger.

“Like what you see?” Jisung chuckles. You barely notice that you’ve been staring, eyes wide and focused on the hardened dick before you, which is probably a bit uncomfortable for him. 

“Sorry!” You cringe at yourself lightly, covering your eyes in embarrassment in fear that you just ruined the mood you’ve worked too hard to create.

“Don’t apologise,” he smiles as he grabs your wrists, moving them away from your round eyes. Scrunching your nose in displeasure, you catch your lip in between your teeth, mentally face palming at how weird you’re being.

He couldn’t blame you though, it was taking everything in him not to gawk at you. It was the first time you’ve seen eachother naked. Bathing suits did little for your imagination, not that you had even thought about Jisung this way before.

But he eases your nerves by coming down face level with you, reaching for your shirt and pulling it up over your head. You look at him with wide eyes, taking in each part of him as he caresses your body gently. He’s in awe of you like this. So relieved that you’re finally his, that he has you like this.

Nimble fingers dance down your body, landing at your core as he runs one up your slit, collecting your arousal on his fingertip. An impressed smirk grows slowly on his face, “I can’t believe you’re this wet already,” he hums. “All for me.” 

His eyes remain focused on your center, devouring it with his eyes as his hands hold steady on your thighs. You can’t help but grow slightly embarrassed, dripping with arousal so early on though he’s barely touched you. A lump forms in your throat causing you to swallow thickly – this doesn’t go unnoticed by Jisung.

A concerned expression crosses his face, brow furrowing as he moves his hands upward to settle on your waist. “Hey,” his voice is soft, gentle and full of worry, “everything okay?” 

“Just nervous,” you answer, a fake smile showing on your face to try and combat your own emotions.

It is no secret that Jisung is a bit more experienced than you are in bed. He knows that, you know that, and that is enough to turn you into a nervous wreck. Leave it to your own thoughts to ruin the moment.

“We don’t have to…”

“No!” Your voice comes out a little too eager, a bit loud, shocking Jisung. His eyes widen in response, body jolting from the impact of your tone. “No,” you say more gently this time, “I want to.”

You did want to – you just have to get over your own nerves first. Lucily, Jisung didn’t mind and was willing to guide you through it.

With a reassuring smile plastered across his face, he laces his fingers through yours. As you lock eyes, you nod him onward, giving him the go-ahead to continue. He moves languidly, his fingers moving back down to trace your slit once more. The sensation makes you tense, the nerves tingling through your body making it difficult for you to calm down. 

But with a reassuring squeeze of his hand to yours, you’re taking a deep breath. Closing your eyes as you lie your head backwards onto his pillowcase. The smell of him consumes you, relaxing you effectively as his fingers meet the entrance of your core.

Shivers run through your body as he dips one finger inside. Your arousal acts as a natural lube, letting his finger glide gracefully into you. You gasp at the sensation, eyes rolling back into your head as he begins caressing your walls. His finger moves swiftly in and out of your core, his other hand still locked with yours to guide you through.

With your body finally relaxing, Jisung is able to add another finger into the mix. The extra pressure makes you shudder for a moment, taking a little to adjust to the greater size inside of you. Thankfully the mild discomfort subsides, and he’s able to pump his fingers in and out once more. 

He’s making sure to watch each of your expressions, growing harder and harder just from watching your face contort in bliss. With each of his movements you bite down harder onto your lip, focusing on him and him only. 

“You’re doing so well,” he praises as his thumb rubs circles over your hand soothing you. You can feel your heart swell at his words, heat beginning to rise to your cheeks. 

In one swift motion, Jisung begins to separate his fingers, stretching your walls as his digits move in scissor-like motions inside you. “Fuck,” you mumble, hips jutting forward in reaction. 

A steep moan leaving your lips as he brings his fingers back together, just to extend them once more. Your body is quickly getting used to the pressure, begging for more as you roll your hips.

He can sense that you’re eager from your movements alone. With one final squeeze, his hand is leaving yours. The empty feeling in your palm is unpleasant. But once you open your eyes and notice he’s using it to palm himself, his fingers groping around his length and beginning to pump slowly, that empty feeling is replaced with something else. 

Your mouth salivates with desire, hungry for the feeling of him inside of you. He’s aroused you enough, and you’re too eager to feel him for your own good.

“Jisung,” you moan, “fuck me please.”

His cock jumps in reaction to your words, his chest heaving as his breath catches in his throat. Never in his life did he expect to hear those words come out of your mouth – but he wouldn't mind hearing it again.

“Hmm?” He hums, knowing damn well what you said but being greedy enough to pretend that he didn’t. You whine in response, your legs shaking on the bed in a mini temper-tantrum.

“Please,” you drag out, “please fuck me.”

Your words are music to his ears. He removes his fingers from your dripping cunt, grabbing the backs of your knees to pull you closer to him and hike your legs up over his hips.

“Anything for you.”

Complying to your wish, he lines the tip of his cock up with your entrance. The feeling of his smooth head against your core is enough to make you moan, your head thrown back to expose the soft skin of your neck.

Jisung takes this as an opportunity to leave his own mark behind, leaning down to attach his lips to your skin. You gasp as his teeth graze your skin, his plump lips sucking harshly before his tongue is swiping over the area to soothe it. 

But your eyes open once he’s beginning to pull away to look at you. His eyes are dark, full of lust mixed with adoration, a sigh of relief leaving his chest as he gazes down at you under him. There’s a lot going on in his head right now. Of all the emotions swirling around, the thing he’s most focused on is how lucky he is to have you.

And before you know it, he’s leaning down. Pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, making you smile. One more kiss is left on your forehead before he's pulling back, securing the position of your legs on his hips. 

And then he’s realigning himself with your core, pushing past your entrance and slowly descending into the depths of your pussy. He’s moving slowly, taking his time as he thrusts into you. The delicious stretch is unfamiliar, but it's not uncomfortable – like you were made just for him. A simultaneous groan leaves your lips as he bottoms out, the tip of his cock pressing deep into you on a spot that’s gone untouched. 

He hums a sigh of contempt before pulling back, only to rock his hips into you once again. Your velvety walls welcome him delightedly, soft whimpers leaving your lips once he bottoms out again.

“Y/N,” your name leaves his lips in a low grunt, the bones of his pelvis driving into your skin as he begins to pick up his pace. In reaction you clench down on him, orgasm beginning to loom overhead with each movement of his hips.

Desire fills your senses as you roll your hips over to meet his thrusts. His movements are slow and intentional, making sure to bottom out each time to watch you squirm over his dick. He loves how your jaw drops each time his tip presses against your g-spot, knowing just when he hits it each time.

Jisung’s teeth are barred, sweat gathering at his brow as his dark fluffy hair sticks to his face. He’s trying to hold himself back, the overwhelming urge to finish just in reach, but he doesn’t want to stop. So his hands roam your body to try and distract him, his palms caressing up the sides of your torso as your back bridges into him. The feeling of hot breath fans over your face with each sigh he lets out. 

But the tightening knot in your stomach is threatening to snap with every movement of his hips. It's getting harder and harder to hold on with the power of his thrusts growing stronger.

“Jisung,” you whine, “so close” your hands find his back, fingernails dragging down his spine in attempts to ground yourself. Jisung’s face contorts as your nails pierce his skin, leaving lines of red scratches down the length of his posterior.

The stretch from his length and his rhythmic motions sends your senses into overdrive. Squeezing your eyes shut and grasping onto the sheets underneath you, you can taste the brink of your orgasm. Jisung is focused; his grip on your thighs strong and his face contorted with bliss. But all you can think about is how stupid you could have been if you had decided to just cut him out. What matters is that you’re here with him now, and the thought of that is enough to push you over the edge. 

Your breath hitches in your throat, stomach twisting and turning as your pussy throbs repeatedly around his member. Emotions running high, three words almost slip past your lips, but with the small amount of strength you can muster up, you hold them back. Another time, some time that isn't so lust filled like this one.

Jisung’s thrusts are growing sloppy. His grip on your legs tightening as his lip is caught between his teeth. And with just a few quick thrusts, he’s coming undone inside of you. White, hot spurts of cum paint your walls, filling you up and making you feel so unbelievably full. 

You’ve always felt close to Jisung – he knew everything about you and vice versa; but this time was different. The way his hands settled on your legs, bringing them down gently after finishing. How his eyes are becoming so soft as he looks at you, a lazy grin pulling at his lips. You’ve never felt closer to Jisung as you do in the moment. As his body collapses next to yours, pulling you in and holding you close as you recover from your highs, you’re completely at peace.

“Sorry I got carried away, I guess I should have asked if you’re on birth control still,” he laughs, burying his face into the crook of your neck. 

“Don’t worry, I am,” you chuckle alongside him.

Your naked bodies tangle together, his leg weaving its way through yours to be as close to you as possible. He’s intoxicated by you, closing his eyes as he rests against your body in complete bliss. Now that he has you this close he never wants to let go; and neither do you.

“Can I tell you something?” His voice is soft, whisper like but still holding confidence; his tone never falters.

“Anything.”

“I love you, Y/N.”

Butterflies erupt in your tummy, your heart thudding in your chest as heat rises to your cheeks. He loves you. It's not that friendship kind of love anymore; it's the relationship kind. The same kind that makes your heart skip a beat and body riddle with every emotion in the book. The kind that keeps you up all night thinking about – but also helps you fall asleep, knowing he’ll be there in the morning.

And all of a sudden it seems so stupid that you were fighting those words back in the heat of the moment just a few minutes ago. He felt it too, you always knew that.

“I love you, Jisung.”

Being in love is a dumb concept. All guys suck, relationships are stupid and love is a social construct that you didn’t feel like conforming to. There was absolutely no one that you would waste your time on, until Jisung came around. What you had been looking for your entire life has always been right infront of your eyes – you were just too dumb to see it.

Maybe love is alright, after all.

‘Perfect Score’ is copyright 2020-2021 @chaangbin, all rights reserved. Please do not repost on any platform or translate without permission.

↠ A/N this fic has been rewritten/reconcepted from my previous BTS fic Crush Culture.

[luimagines]

He reacts to seeing you Sick/Wounded Part 3

Final part of the prompt below!

Masterlist

First Part Previous Part

Scenario under the cut!

Four

Four starts looking through Wind’s borrowed telescope at the monster below them and tries to search for weak points and guard trails. There’s a good number of them, at least two per person here but they’re closer to the town than anyone anywhere is comfortable with so they have to go.

“AHHHCHOOO!!”

Multiple monsters look in your direction.

“Will you keep it down?” Legend snapped. “Sneeze a little louder next time, I don’t the monsters in the back heard you.”

“I’m not trying to be loud.” You sniffle and furiously wipe your face. “There’s got be something in the air here. I’m not allergic period. This just isn’t like me.”

Four nods in agreement and takes his eyes away from the telescope. He hands it back to Wind, who eagerly takes his spot and makes his way toward you.

In all honesty, you look miserable. And have since that morning.

You’re constantly sneezing, your nose and eyes are red and blotchy and it goes out to cheeks. You’ve been blowing your nose on random leaves since you’ve run out of tissues earlier that day and it continuously seems to be plugged despite it all. You also seem to be shivering ever so slightly but you never made any mention of being cold.

Four frowns to himself and pokes your neck, only to startled into placing his whole hand there. You’re covered in a cold sweat but warm despite the temperature outside.

“What the heck Four?” You knock his hand away and take a step back.

“I think you’re sick.” He blurts with as much grace a bull in a china shop.

“I’m no-” You cut yourself off with a cough this time. It’s so strong that you bend over and fall to your butt on the ground with barely any time in between to catch your breath.

“Benched.” Time turns on his heel and points you back the way you came. “Go back to the town. You’re not fit to fight.”

You whimper after the cough attack and nod, getting to your feet. Four doesn’t like the idea of you going back alone but he knows his friends need the numbers to take the monsters down fast enough, so he doesn’t offer for a moment. He tries to come to a decision before they make any more moves without him but Time speaks again.

“Four. Go with them. Make sure they actually make it to the town.” Time commands and turns to the rest of the group. “We’re going to need fire power.”

Four catches Warrior and Wild grin manically. “Leave it to us!”

“You had to say something.” Four snickers at Twilight misfortune and jogs slightly to catch up with you.

You’re still trying to wipe at your face with your sleeve and it leaves a trail of snot and tears on the fabric.

It’s a bit disgusting....Ok, it’s super gross and it makes Four want to gag somewhat but he’ll let you have it.

Being sick is gross. He’s just got to make sure your clothes are washed when it passes.

“Four?” You call.

He perks up and speeds up to fall in line with your steps. “I’m here.”

You look at him for a moment and sniffle again. “ ’m sorry you got sent back with me. You looked excited to take some monsters down.” 

“I’m...” Four looked to the side and tried to find the right words to talk to you. “I mean, I’ll live with it. I’m not that disappointed to be honest. I was thinking of joining you anyway. It didn’t feel right for you head out on your own.”

“But you want to support the others.” You argue. “I could see it. You had to think about it.”

“Ok well-”

“There’s a lot of them out there, isn’t there?” You press and frown to yourself. “A lot of monsters that are going to take all their hands and then some to be taken down and I get sent back and you have to come with me-”

“Ok, hold up.” Four grabs your bicep and shakes it a little. “Slow that down. It’s not like you asked to get sick. I know just as much you do that we’d both rather be up there with them. That’s a given. But you need to take care of yourself as well and I don’t mind being with you anyway.”

You push your mouth to the side and don’t look at him. “I better not get you sick.”

Four snorts ever so slightly and moves his hand from you arm to your hand, lacing your fingers together and swinging them ever so slightly. He knows you don’t want him to see the smile on your face when he does so but it’s your reaction every time.

“While I doubt it’ll happen, you’ll take care of me if I do get sick, right?”

“Always.” 

Warrior

They were in a new area this time. Warrior can’t recognize the landscape or the town’s names as they pass so he’s content to let someone else take the lead for a change.

The town’s people had mentioned a sealed temple of sorts that hadn’t been used in ages. Bad things had been happening in the area so they were advised to steer clear.

Naturally they had to go check it out.

Don’t leave no stone unturned and all that jazz.

If anything, it sounds more like a dungeon at this point so he’s a bit excited to get some practice in. 

Warrior walks near the front of the group and lets outa whistle when the reach their goal.

It a large dark blue building with three spiraling towers in a triangle-fecta with multiple columns around the front of it, acting as a sort of imposing gate. The columns themselves are full of grotesque monstrous faces, which are realistic enough to cause some discomfort amongst the ranks. 

“Oh, we’re going to be here for hours.” Legend groans and tilts his head to the sky. “Maybe even days! Why are here again?”

“To eradicate evil before it grows beyond it’s borders.” Time take a breath and walks forward. “The people are afraid and it’s our job to put an end to it.”

Warrior can agree with that, it’s what the hero does after all. Fine print and all that.

But you make a small whimper from behind him and turns around to see you. You don’t pleased one bit with your arms crossed and your head down. “I don’t like this place.”

Right. Not a Link. This technically isn’t in your job description, unlike them.

“You could wait out here?” Wild offers. Warrior remembers that they’re alike in a  away with the lack of experience with dungeons and wonders if maybe either one of them can stay back as well. Surely, they don’t all have to go in, do they?

Sky grins good naturally and punches you gently on your shoulder. “You good?”

“This whole place feels wrong.” You reply. “Do we have to go through there?”

“It’s because it feels wrong that we have to go in.” Hyrule shrugs. “We have to make it better.”

“If we find loot inside, it’s just a bonus.” Wind bounces up to you with grin.

“What’s the problem? Are you scared?” Legend taunts. “Do you need someone to hold your hand?”

“Are you offering?” You snap back.

“He may not be, but I am.” Warrior holds his hand out and smiles at you with as much charm as he can conjure up. He has no idea what possesses him to comment and he hopes that you don’t take offence to it. He wasn’t trying to mock you.

To his surprise, you look at his hand for a little moment longer than he think it’s worth and gently reach out to lace your fingers together.

Your hand is warm and you don’t look at him when he feels you give it a small squeeze. “Ok, let’s go.”

This is not a big deal. He’s not going to make it a big deal.

He just wanted to be a good friend is all. Yeah, that’s all it was.

As the group you all head into the cursed building and are immediately faced with choices.

Five hallways. No end in sight in any of them and no other options.

“Guess we split the party.” Twilight shrugged. “I’ll go with Wind.”

This was first pair off and others started to claim a partner for the journey ahead.

“I guess I already have my partner.” Warrior smiles and begins to walk away. “Should we take the far left?”

“Don’t you know, you never split the party.” You sing under your breath and tug on Warrior’s hand to the beat. “Clerics in the back, keep those fighter hale and hearty. The wizard in the middle where he can shed some light and you never let the damn thief out of sight.”

You’re not paying attention to him.

He chalks it up to your previous nervous energy and takes the lead instead.

The hallway you both travel through is dark and beginning to shrink. the two of you are now shoulder to shoulder and with more time, have to walk in a single file line.

You don’t let go of his hand.

Occasionally there is the lone torch to keep the path ahead illuminated but Warrior thinks that they’re more for decoration and peace of mind than any actual use. You know, considering the vast space of nothing in front of you.

The hallway comes to an abrupt stop and Warrior can feel you crash into his back. Before him a large room with torches on every other wall, eight walls in total, counting the one with the entryway. There’s nothing inside but a single glowing blue ball of light.

It reminds him faintly of Proxy and he steps inside the room to get a better look.

“Will o’ the wisp.” You mutter from behind and stop from entering the room any farther, stopping Warrior as well in the process.

“What?” He turns to you and can see how tense you are.

“Back home,” You begin. “They are known to be by swamps, bogs and the like. They’re supposed to mislead travelers and are used as a symbol of a goal that’s impossible to reach and are typically sinister in nature. What ever you do, don’t follow it.”

Warrior takes the warning to heart, takes a step and returns to your side.

Nothing like Proxy at all.

“What do we do then?” He asks, not taking his eyes off of it.

“I don’t know...” You gulp. “I didn’t even think they’d be here. They’re not known to be fighters... just mess with your head and lead you to your doom.”

On cue, the light shifts and begins to circle the room. Warrior makes a grab for his sword and you copy his movements. The two of you stand back to back and watch it closely.

It flies straight into a wall after a dizzying moment and a door appears where there wasn’t one before.

“That’s it?” Warrior stands down but his grip is tight, on both your hand and his weapon. “Guess that’s the way out.”

“No. What did I just say? Don’t follow it.”

“But it’s gone.”

“It went that way. Don’t go in the same direction.” You stress.

Warrior lets go of your hand and turns to stare at you head on, taking a step back and entering the rest of the room. He goes to open his mouth to reply- but his foot goes lower than he anticipates.

He’s activated something.

You jump as the entryway where you once were, shuts and the torches go out instantly, plunging the whole room into darkness.

“Link?” You call out and Warrior has no idea where you are all of a sudden.

He regrets letting go of your hand.

“Still here.” He chuckles nervous and finishes the sentence with an audible gulp.

The Will o’ wisp returns from a different direction and he hears you scream.

Warrior is quick to reach for Legend’s fire rod and he fires it into the air.

The ball of light leaves but the he’s taken gives just enough light to see what’s happened. You’ve ended up on the floor and somehow took a hit to your head that’s pouring blood all over your face, with a massive skeleton over you, poised to take another hit.

The fire from the rod dies out and the room goes black again.

But at least Warrior knows where you are.

And now he’s pissed.

He fires the rod again right at the monster and feels a vindictive sort of satisfaction when the creature catches aflame. He’s quick to launch the monster away from you and help you up. He passes you the rod, taking a full hold on his sword and stands in front of you.

“Light up the room and monsters, yeah? I’ll finish them off.” He says and drops into a defensive stance.

“Bad things happen with Wips.” You mutter and prepare to fire rod again and instead spin across the floor. Some of the torches relight but it’s clear they won’t last long.

More monsters start to appear from the doors the wisp activates now that the initial key has been set off.

“I’ll listen to you next time!” Warrior finishes the first beast and begin on the next.

“I think I’ll leave the dungeon stuff to the Links. Leave you, your puzzles and your monsters to each other.” You start talking to yourself. “This is no way to make a living.”

“Tell me about it. I didn’t even have these in my Hyrule.”

Hyrule

Hyrule has no clue what he’s was doing.

He could admit that.

He was used to having magic at his disposal and fixing the problem with it. But this? This was a little beyond his pay grade.

He wasn’t even being paid.

“ ‘Rule!” You cry from the bed. You hand is outstretched in an attempt to reach him but he’s too far away from your grasp.

He walks over to your side and grabs your hand. “I’m here. What do you need?”

“Can I have a glass of water?” You grip his hand and he’s hit with a wave of concern when he sees it’s not really that strong.

“Yeah, sure.” He says, getting up. “Give me a minute.”

You smile at him and close your eyes again. He hates how miserable you look. Flushed cheeks and forehead, raging fever, cold sweat running off you in a vain attempt to cool yourself down, you’re shaking and he catches you mumble every now and then but he can’t catch what you say.

Hyrule’s silver lining is that you’ve been mostly asleep through the day, making his job a little easier as nurse and doctor. The most he can complain about is that it’s a little boring.

He still doesn’t know what’s he’s doing.

He had thought that it was something he could handle but but was only within the first hour that he realized he was powerless to help you with anything.

He feels a little useless.

The others had gone out to survey the town they’re cooped up in and get details and equipment.

Hyrule knows himself well enough and has learned enough from the others that he’s pretty much... well, useless in a market. Money isn’t really a concept where he’s from or at least not with the bells and whistles and unwritten rules that everyone else seems to know at the drop of a hat.

On top of that, with Hyrule’s bleeding heart, he had offered to be the one to stay behind and look after you while they were gone most of the day. He figured that if he was the groups healer then he could help you with this too.

Wrong.

Again, he’s thankful you’ve mostly been sleeping.

When he’s retrieved your request and made it back to the room, he stops dead in his tracks at the door.

There’s... something over you. A shadow like blob with no discernable shape, figure or features. The revelation shocks Hyrule into stillness at the idea of you being in danger.

It’s not outwardly hurting you. Just watching.

Or so he thinks anyway.

You still look peacefully unaware of the conscious world and look to be in a deep sleep once more. Meaning, you have idea that this.. thing is here.

Hyrule doesn’t move but he looks around is immediate vicinity. His sword is barely within arms reach and he knows that the step he’s about to take is directly on a squeaky board. It would alert his presence and he doesn’t have anyway of currently fighting that thing.

He crouches down and places your cup by the door frame. He then places is hand just beyond the squeaky board and crawls those few inches to reach his sword.

As soon as it’s within his grasp, he calls on his magic and throws his astral sword in the thing’s direction.

It makes contact, but does no damage.

The shadow mass merely “stands” straighter and stills all movement.

This thing may not have a face but Hyrule is sure that it’s checking him out, assessing him, gauging what kind of threat he might be if he were to attack again.

Hyrule readies himself into a defensive stance and glares right back.

There are no words spoken.

Just as he’s about to charge, it dips down and disappears through the floor boards. The air in room ceases to be charged with unfathomable energy and he knows that it’s gone.

Hyrule is confused and on edge. He’s never seen something like before and he doubts that it’ll help your condition if he asks you or if you would know anything about it.

He straps his sword on his back, just in case, and picks up your cup.

“Link?” You call again, trying to push yourself up into a sitting position. You’re still very weak and very tired and you give up half way.

“I have your water.” He says instead, trying his best to smile for you. He holds it out to you and hopes that you don’t notice that his hands are shaking.

You grin in response and take it, seemingly none the wiser.

You sigh in relief as you sip. “You’re a good friend. Thanks for staying with me. I’m sure it’s been pretty boring when all the others are been productive.”

“I don’t mind one bit. I’ll be here for as long as you need me.” He sits on the bed.

Hyrule continuously has no idea what he’s doing.

But he certainly isn’t going to be bored from here on out. 

He has to protect you now, from whatever that was, so he will. 

[twinkleimagines]

*Somebody save me*

summary: y/n is new to the outer banks, being as she’s Barry’s cousin from the city. Her being as familiar in the drug life as Barry, it was almost inevitable for her not to meet the Rafe himself. Little does she know her life was about to become an entire rollercoaster. Was rafe going to drag her down with his own issues and literal manic tendencies, or was she finally going to be the saving this lost boy needed?

CHAPTER ONE

“ this is why I don’t live near the water” You exclaimed as you swatted the swarming gnats and mosquitos away from your face .

“ either here or group home cuz” Barry exclaimed while taking nugs of marijuana out of a zip lock bag, placing them on his scale . “ better get use to it.”

You’d lived in a small home back in Atlanta Georgia with your mom, who was a serious addict and spent more time out on the streets prostituting for drugs than she was at home with her daughter . Because of your moms reckless behavior, you had missed out on a lot of school seeing as she became spending more time selling drugs for a living than actually participating in school. Unfortunately that raised the schools attention to your living situation, inevitably causing your mom to get locked up and You having to chose between moving to the outer banks, or a group home. You only had 2 months left until you would be 18 but until then, Barry’s trailer would be where you resided.

You rolled your eyes before getting up from your chair , walking towards the trailer.

“ where ya goin?” Barry asked turning from his table of weed.

“ I can’t handle these bugs dude” you exclaimed still walking towards the trailer.

“ we’ll if you’re gonna stay here you gon have to put your work in too” he stated before standing up, grabbing 2 bags of white powder. You stepped back in shock.

“ the fuck Barry” you exclaimed shaking your head in disbelief. “ you know I don’t fuck with that shit”. Barry shrugged before reaching back towards you, shaking them at you to grab.

“ no but these bills gotta be paid” he said nodding his head towards the trailer. “ I need you to take this over to someone for me tonight. He’s got a party goin and he’s gonna sell it throughout the night .”

“ why can’t you take it to him then?” You exclaimed crossing your arms.

“ because cuz you’re gonna have to pull your weight round here too” . You scoffed before snatching the 2 bags of coke from Barry’s hand.

“ I don’t even know who this guy is “ you huffed out, putting the two bags in your bra.

“ you’ll know him. His name is Rafe.”

****

As you pulled up to the driveway, yourjaw dropped at the size of the house Barry had you going to. It was massive, and the amount of people crowding the humongous house was massive as well.

“ how the fuck am I suppose to find this guy” you huffed out to yourself before stepping out the car. You had your long wavy hair down, and hooped earrings dangling. You wore on tight high waisted white jeans and a black strapless top as well. As you looked around you could definitely tell this wasn’t your crowd. The girls had massive amounts of make up caked on, booty shorts that their bottoms were practically hanging out of, and they all were definitely shit faced. And they all looked to be trying to get some guys attention.

You walked in looking around , running your hand through your hair stressfully, trying to figure out howyou were suppose to find this Rafe guy.

“ you don’t look like you’re from around here” you heard from behind you. You turned around to find a medium height guy- definitely shit faced might I add- looking you up and down. You scoffed before taking a step back.

“ ‘cause I’m not” you snapped, due to your lack of interest. “ I’m looking for Rafe”. The guy slightly scoffed with an eye roll before pointing to the section behind him.

“ pink shirt” he spat out before brushing past you. You snickered at the fact how some men just cannot handle rejection. Looking over where the guy had just previously directed you, you saw a group of kooks all sitting on the two couches surrounding a coffee table, the guy in the pink shirt , which was assumed to be Rafe, was separating lines of coke on the table. You sighed before making your way to him. You could only see his muscular back and broad shoulders from where you were standing since his back was faced towards you, but none the less he was a kook, which was definitely not your type.

“ Rafe?” You spoke out, only to see the dirty blondes headed boy to look over your shoulder. You swallowed quickly, taken back when you saw those piercing dilated blue eyes gazing into yours. He looked you up and down, presumably confused as to who you were, since you definitely didn’t look the part for a party of kooks. You quickly stood up straight, making sure you looked the tough hood girl as you are before you pulled the two bags of coke out of your back pocket. His eyebrows quickly furrowed together in confusion , wondering why a strange outsider like you was handing him the drugs.

“ Barry” was all you responded before walking off. Barry had told you that there didn’t need to be much conversation between the two of you, that Rafe would already know the deal. Which was fine by you. Rafe honestly took your breath away but looking at the bimbos he had surrounding him, it was clear you weren’t his type anyways. That didn’t matter though. He was beyond rich, and you were from the projects. Definitely no match.

“ hey” you heard someone shout from behind you. You turned around quickly, your long hair wrapping around your shoulders as you did. Oh god . It was Rafe.

“ sorry I didn’t catch your name” he said pointing behind him, indicating your brief in counter a few seconds ago. This time it was your turn to look at him with confusion. Why would he need your name?

“ y/n” you responded looking up at the tall geeked out boy with a slight smile.

“ I uh didn’t mean to be rude I just wasn’t expecting you - I mean the supply this early. “ fumbling with the two bags in his hand. You threw your hands up .

“ ion know that’s just what Barry told me to bring” . You watched Rafes face turn into worry.

“ uhm.. okay yeah alright” he said nervously running his hands through his hair before turning around and walking quickly back into the house. You shook your head in pure confusion before walking back to your car, headed back to the trailer .

****

“ alright ladies and gents , who wants a bump” Rafe said walking back into the common area, plopping down on the couch with the new baggies.

“ you know I do” the blonde girl next to him said scooting closer to him.

“ no more for you till you pay up sweetie” Rafe scoffed. She quickly placed her hand on his inner thigh giggling .

“ I can pay you alright” she spoke out giggling. Rafe laughed shaking his head.

“ already had it. You gotta pay your part this time” he said while using his ID card to separate the lines. She rolled her eyes with embarrassment while the crowd snickered at his comment before pulling her wallet out, handing him a couple of twenties before taking a rolled up dollar, snorting a line.

“ Rafe! My man!” Kelce shouted excitedly before dabbing Rafe up, looking down at the table . “ oh okay this is what I like to see baby” he said rubbing his hands together in excitement . Rafe handed him a rolled up dollar in exchange for some money from Kelce before Kelce leaned down, snorting him a line. “ where’s Topper?” He asked while sitting on the couch next to Rafe. Rafe froze for a second, flash backs to the night Topper got arrested for covering for Sarah and John B running through his head. Rafe hadn’t spoke to Topper since that day, it had became clear he knew the truth or he at least believed Sarah over Rafe.

“ he doesn’t want to come around “ Rafe said. Which was probably the truth. “ yanno Sarah” Rafe said not looking up from the table , watching others around taking more bumps. It was hard for Rafe trying to play things like he normally should. Of course he mourned the death of his sister, more than normal since he internally blamed himself. If he wouldn’t have killed the cop, and framed John B, she wouldn’t have been on the run. But at the same time he was just trying to protect their dad. Rafe froze for a second lost in thought before he picked up the pile of cash people were laying on the table. He knew aT this point the only thing he could do was continue making money for Berry. Barry was the only one who could really help the pogues bring the truth out about his crimes and at this point he had basically became Barry’s bitch. He handled all the product, and sold it all with little to no compensation.

“ alright whose ready for the next round ?”

****

The next morning

“ why you even selling to those kooks anyways Barry?” You asked as you hung your head off of Barry’s couch as he counted money from his duffle bag.

“ because y/n they’re rich and stupid” he responded as if it was an obvious answer. “ they ain’t got no responsibilities so all they care about is partying and getting fucked up.” You looked over at him as he stood up looking over you. “ and I’m the king at getting people fucked up aight. They’ll pay anything cause they got it” he said throwing his hands up. You sighed before sitting up.

“ you should really clean this place up. It stinks” you responded before walking out side, tugging at your tank top to cool down. As you walked out into his yard to sit out in one of his patio chairs you heard a dirt bike coming down the drive way.

“ great” you mumbled as you plopped down in the chair, hissing as the plastic chair burned the back of your thighs since you were in short denim shorts. You quickly lit up a joint Barry rolled for you earlier as you watched the guy turn his bike off before taking his helmet off.

‘Shit’ you thought as you accidentally inhaled too much and began coughing , realizing it was Rafe on the bike. You honestly had thought about him quite a few times through the night last night. Just mesmerized by his attractive looks.

“ hey I remember you” he spoke as you took a sip of your water.

“ oh yeah?” You asked brushing your long locks of hair from your face as some stuck to your forehead from sweat. “ where from?” You questioned, playing it off like you hadn’t thought about him all night.

“ you came to my party last night” he said. Wow. He was really cute.

“ oh yeah! Rafe right?” Rafe smiled.

Okay what the fuck. You immediately felt butterflies fluttering in the pit of your stomach as you watched this literal perfect smile form across his face . He ran his hands through his hair ( almost as if he was getting nervous) before nodding. “ yeah yeah that’s me” . You grinned before reaching out offering him a hit off your joint.

“ want a hit?” You asked.

“ yeah sure” he said before sitting down next to you, taking a hit off your joint. “ so I’ve never seen you round here. You uh Barry’s new girl ?” He asked blowing smoke out between the sentences. You threw your head back laughing loudly .

“ fuck no!” You laughed out. “ he’s my cousin . I’m just stayin with him for a couple months till I get my own plsce” you stated while grabbing the joint back from Rafe.

“ ahh” he responded looking down at the fire pit in front of y’all. “ you gonna stay here or” he asked. If it wasn’t for you crushing you would’ve been weird out by the questions he was asking. You shrugged taking a big hit .

“ I don’t know yet” you said blowing smoke out of your nose. “ I’m waiting to see if this place is gonna win me over.” You responded honestly . “ but honestly this heat and these bugs are for the birds” you said swatting at some of the gnats that were swarming again. Rafe chuckled slightly, looking down at his hands.

“ it’s not too bad once you get use to it.” He said looking over at you. “ maybe someone will change your mind” .You grinned, looking down as you felt the heat rushing to your cheeks. You could see Rafe playing with his hair again. You had come to a conclusion that the hair playing meant he was definitely nervous which made the butterflies flutter again.

“ uhm well-“ he said awkwardly standing up. “ Barry inside?” He asked looking over towards the trailer.

“ yeah yeah he’s in there” you said standing up as well.

“ okay well I’ll see you again okay Y/n? “ he stated, watching as you nodded in agreement. You watched him head inside the trailer, is tall figure swaying as he walked.

***

“ aye yo Barry” Rafe spoke out before opening the screen door to Barry’s trailer. “ got your money” Rafe stated nervously walking toward the back of the trailer to Rafes room.

“ okay country club I see you “ Barry expressed walking out his room to meet Rafe in the kitchen. “ this all of it?” He stated while grabbing the stack out of his hand.

“ yeah man that’s all of it” Rafe stated , sweat dripping down his forehead as he brushed his hair back. “ uhm you uh know you uhm doubled it right?” Rafe said referring to the supply.

“ I needed to get the product movin” he Barry replied still counting the stash.

“ yeah but you see it’s hard to move that much-“

“ listen country club I own you ok” Barry said looking up at Rafe with that cocky smirk of his. “ I know your secret. I know what you really did. Now you can either make my money by doin this work when and where I say I want it done-” he stared shrugging his shoulders. “- or I could just turn you in and make the money that way” Barry chuckled at the sight of Rafe breaking a sweat at the thought of the truth coming out as he sat down at his kitchen table, setting the stack of money on the table. “ choice is yours my friend” . Rafe shook his head stumbling around a bit , partially from nerves and the other from geeking of the dope.

“ nah I-I got you” he responded back , his heart pounding with anxiety.

“ alright that’s what I like to hear” Barry beamed. “ no go. I’ll let you know when I got more for you” he stated. Rafe quickly made his way out the door, running his hands through his hair once again before walking towards your direction. He wanted to just hop on his bike and scurry away from it all , but something about you intrigued him so much. Maybe it was because you treated him differently than everyone else. You were kind to him, and didn’t look at him like he was some crazy addict .

“ see ya Rafe” you called out as he passed by you towards his bike. He tossed his hand up to you with a smile before sitting on his bike, grabbing his helmet, he froze for a second before looking up at you.

“ hey I’m gonna have another party tomorrow night, you know if you’re not busy maybe you could come chill . Get a feel of this place a little more” he suggested, his fingers twiddling with his helmet.

“ I don’t know Rafe, didn’t really look like my crowd “ you stated, this time it was your turn to run your hands through your hair. He shrugged looking down at his helmet.

“ then hang with me” he suggested, his voice a bit softer as if he was nervous to make the suggestion at all. You grinned, pushing your hair behind your ear.

“ okay yeah, I’ll see you then “ you nodded, looking up to see his blue eyes beam with excitement.

“ cool cool” he stated before placing his helmet back on before revving his bike on , riding back out the driveway.

You leaned back sighing of happiness, grinning at Rafes comment .

“ then hang with me”

Tomorrow night couldn’t come sooner.

Chapter 2 coming soon ❤️

( I will be putting this story under the tag #somebody save me )

[simpsiren]

the lookalike;

Huang Renjun, astronomy major. He’s your typical college boy. Responsible, in between average to top in the smartness level, outgoing but wouldn’t bother talking to you if you never approached him. He is however playful and gets violent with his friends very often, verbally and physically. But you wouldn’t know he’s that type of person at first glance. He’s simply soft and kindhearted— if you don’t push his buttons like how his friends do 24/7.

description. What’s worse than having to go though the sufferings of a broken heart from my relationship of five years? Having to get myself tangled up with another man right after, when all I wanted was to sit alone, carry myself through the pain. But when mindless words start to slur out when you’re wanting to simply be done with life, you can’t really do anything about it, now can you? It depends on how the person you said it to interpreted it. And my words just had to be taken seriously.

genre. strangers to lovers, fluff, angst

word count. 8k~

!as they should masterlist!

Tears had been blurring my vision for who knows how long now. I didn’t even know where I was walking. I simply let my legs carry my body, letting it have a mind of its own and deciding where to take me. I wanted to escape, go anywhere but here. Where he lived, where he worked, where he went to school.

Right, on a Sunday night, here I was, walking like a lifeless corpse that just had its life being sucked out when I got dumped from my five year relationship. Of course my heart was shattered into pieces. But right now I didn’t have the energy to pick up each shard that fell. It would take forever. I’d start, just not tonight. I’ll pick myself up quick. All I needed was a night’s rest.

Surprisingly enough, I ended up at a café, or bar. Seemed to be both. Either way it was the only shop which had its lights shining on the pathway through the glass windows that gave me a full view of the inside. There weren’t many people inside, perfect place for me to cry out in one corner. Not that I’d be embarrassed if people were to look at me. I wouldn’t be coming here again anytime soon.

I silently pushed open the door and tiredly slid myself through, not even having the energy to push open the door fully. I scanned my eyes across the place, spotting a table made for two at the very corner, where it was slightly dim due to how deep in it was. I chose to seat there. I threw myself onto the seat and slumped my back into it, letting my body loose and have my head dangle feely looking down as I closed my eyes for a brief moment, thinking “Just how low do I look right now?”

A cough was suddenly heard from beside me in an attempt to get my attention. I shot my head up so fast it almost gave me whiplash. “Do you want to buy anything?” I blinked at the man before me twice. Once at his face that I couldn’t get a clear view of, and the other to his hands that held a notepad. I rubbed my forehead, softly answering, “Is there anything that’s like alcohol but isn’t?” I could tell he already looked confused at my request, his head tilting to the side a few degrees. “I’m sorry?”

I waved a lazy hand at him. “Um...” I trailed off, trying to think of something. “You know what? Get me anything that’ll knock me out in two shots.” I blankly said, giving up on even having to choose what drink I wanted. He hummed and downshifted his head. “Alright.” He walked away soon after. But I knew he had his eyes scanning me up and down for a brief moment, inspecting me before doing so. I sighed and looked out the window. I closed my eyes, the tears falling down yet again. I didn’t bother to wipe a single tear away, admitting and claiming that they’re all mine despite knowing my pride would have never allowed that.

After a few minutes, I was shocked by the knocking on the table. I fluttered my eyes open, seeing the reflection of me as well as the man from just now standing behind me with a cup in his hand. I slowly turned around, my eyes trailed from his shoes all the way to his hair. He seemed to have a small figure. But with that face I’m sure no one would even care about that. He cracked a soft smile and placed the cup down on the table. I looked down into the cup, the reflection of myself making me scrunch my nose. “I didn’t order tea.” I whispered, pointing my finger at it yet keeping my head down.

“But you look like you shouldn’t be drinking.” I tilted my head up to look at him, who had his arms folded and weight placed on one leg. “Do I look that bad?” I gulped, running a hand through my hair with a tired sigh that could go on for three days. “Rough night?” He asked, suddenly pulling the chair from the opposite side to take a seat in front of me. Pulling himself closer to the table, he raised a brow, waiting for my answer. I opened my mouth, yet words couldn’t come up as I looked around the place. “S-Should you even be sitting right now?” I asked with concern.

He shrugged and glanced at his watch for a brief moment then proceeding to lean back into the seat. “Well I can rest unless more customers come, which I highly doubt. It’s Sunday after all.” I chuckled at the last part, nodding my head agreeably. “Yeah... Sunday night.” I reminded myself mentally that I had classes tomorrow. I could only hope I’ll wake up in time. Silence pursued its course between us, with me having my gaze down to the cup of tea, for some reason I wasn’t feeling the urge that I got when coming here. I just wanted to sulk and sink deep into my despairs.

“Drink. You seem to need it.” I sighed quietly and picked up the cup, hands shaking unintentionally from my weakness as I tried to steady my hands more and bring the edge of the cup of my lips. I carefully took a sip. It wasn’t too hot, nor too cold. It was just right. It was the one thing in this cold night that had brought some warmth down my throat and to my heart. Temporary warmth. I could deal with that. “What’s your name?” I suddenly questioned. I figured if he’s going to sit here longer and he needed to then it was best to start a conversation.

“Huang Renjun. Second years in college.” The familiarity of the name rang through my ears. I narrowed my eyes on him, now trying to take a better look at the features of his face. My eyebrows furrowed for a moment as I leaned back and closed my jaw shut before it had time to drop to the floor. “Renjun?! The Huang Renjun?” I echoed, blinking my eyes rapidly as if all the tiredness had escaped my body. He chuckled softly and nodded. “Took you long to recognise me.”

I laughed in embarrassed and hummed. “Sorry about that. Guess I really am not feeling well.” I ran a hand down my face, shaking my head. “I didn’t know you work here.” I began. “I didn’t know you worked at all.” Renjun leaned forward against the table, shoulders raising as he did so. “You never knew because you never been off campus before, now have you?” Renjun tilted his head, a playful and teasing smile dancing on his lips. I frowned. “My major’s a lot harder than yours.” I feigned exasperation and rolled my eyes, making him cover his mouth politely as he laughed.

“I know.” Renjun muttered. “So?” He asked. I raised a brow in a questioning manner. “So what?” Renjun smacked his lips, raising both eyebrows at the same time and letting then fall back down. “So why did you suddenly come here this late into the night looking like a wreck?” I breathed out a short laugh, one that wasn’t suppose to send humour but more of disappointment and sadness. If I had the opportunity to talk it out, might as well take this chance to, no matter who it was I was telling it to. “I broke up with my boyfriend, Kim. Last night.” I gulped. “Well, it’s more of him dumping me.” I shrugged weakly.

Renjun’s silence made me observe him for a moment. He was expressionless, but his eyes were sending feelings of pity, one that I for one didn’t want to see, but I can’t avoid it anyway. “Why did he dump you? Did you do anything wrong?” I scoffed loudly, glancing sideways before laughing in amusement. “What are you, my therapist suddenly?” I asked, expecting him to ask for full details on the whole story. Renjun curled the side of his lips upwards ever so slightly. “I don’t mind if I get paid.” I laughed and shook my head, taking another sip of tea. The weight in my body was slowly lessening the more I talked to Renjun, my body began to feel lighter. I know a feeling like this would only be for tonight, just having to sit here and have a normal conversation about my situation without falling apart.

I proceeded to tell the story from square one, how I met Kim, to going sidetracked a little by describing how perfect of a boyfriend he was but I was simply blinded by my own love for him to realise his toxicity until the very end. Bad choice, of course. “And look at where that got me.” I closed my eyes for a short moment, my memories with him flashing by like a movie tape. It disgusted me, but it also made my head ache in many ways but one. I hated it. “It doesn’t seem that bad.”

I widened my eyes, surprised at his reply. “What do you mean?” Renjun ruffled his hair casually as he said, “You got to meet me.” Renjun played a confident smile, which only seemed to be charming. Though Renjun and I never met in a proper setting, we were mere acquaintances, one that would see each other on campus often and nothing more. But this was the start of our relationship.

We talked for hours, I had forgotten about time completely. Topics changed like flickering lights and varied in the most weirdest ways possible. I slowly grew tired, my brain working slowly with its gears getting weaker. I had my head on the table, the emptied cup pushed to the side against the clear window. I had my eyes half opened at this point, I wasn’t even able to think straight as if I actually did get drunk. “Do you want to help me?” I softly murmured. Though I think it was only for my ears, it was loud enough for Renjun to let out a, “Hm?”

“Help me...” I whispered, slightly louder this time. “Help me get this shit show over and done with.” I couldn’t hear his reply, but I was fast asleep the second after.

“I said that?” I asked, not sure if I was directing it to myself or to Renjun who was just coming with two cups of coffee, so surprised that I leaned back with a hand to my chest. Renjun sat down and nodded his head. “How could you not remember? It’s not like you were drunk last night.” I scoffed softly. “From how sad and dead I was last night, it kind of felt like I was.” I whispered, quickly taking a sip of the coffee in hopes to got myself to wake up a little.

My mood had still been feeling the same as last night the moment I woke up today. My heart was still heavy, it didn’t allow my body to loosen up. I was dragging my existence from place to place I was that lifeless and mentally drained from that one night my heart fell apart. “Well first order of business. No going to classes for a week.” I almost wanted to drop the cup then and there, but I held it firm and place it down, the noise from it making contact with the table loud and clear. “Woah I’m sorry what?!” I asked in shock.

Renjun’s expression was unbothered by my reaction. “You heard me right.” Renjun took a sip. “You’re physically and mentally drained. It doesn’t take a sidekick to see that. So just rest for awhile, and we can hang out in the meantime.” He shrugged and leaned back into his seat, shoulders relaxed and calm. “Don’t you have classes too?” Renjun smiled gently. “Haechan told me you guys start your lectures after mine which means I can still go without missing any.” I lips formed an ‘O’ as I nodded slowly. How did he know Haechan? That I questioned mentally. I did know Haechan practically has connections with the whole school somehow.

“But if you insist on going I don’t mind waiting for you at your department building.” Renjun raised his eyebrows. “But don’t take the lectures seriously for awhile, you know? Loosen up a little. Cheat, steal notes or something. Just have time to rest. The breakup really has hit you hard, huh?” Renjun eyed me up and down, not in a scrutinising manner, but it really did felt like one with a gaze like his. “Woah are you seriously telling me to do things you would never do?” I gasped loudly. Renjun bobbed his shoulders. “I mean I would do it if I wasn’t keeping my good student image. But I don’t see you having that much so.”

I rolled my eyes. “Rude.” Renjun chuckled. “I should be going for class now. See you at four?” Renjun quickly stood up, grabbing his bag from the other chair next to him. After he reassured that he had everything with him, he made eye contact with me. “See you.” Renjun downshifted his head, his lips curling up to form a smile that not going to lie, looked cute. But I quickly shook that thought out of my head before it could get any deeper.

The day went by. All I had my mind on was my ex, but my focus was slowly shifting to Renjun as time passed. Why did I even meet him in the first place? What was the purpose of someone who was of no significance in my life would suddenly be playing a big role in me wanting to get over my heartbroken phase? Questions like these circled and wrapped itself around my brain. So much so that I couldn’t properly concentrate during the lecture, which had me asking Haechan for notes just like how Renjun suggested me to.

I was making my way to the entrance when I saw Renjun standing right outside at the side. His hair captured the sunlight beautifully and it took him zero effort to have him noticed by the girls who were walking out. I had to admit he was attractive, now that I was not blinded by the fact I always thought my ex was the most perfect human on earth. I made my way to Renjun. But surprisingly, Haechan made it before I did, shocking the life out of Renjun with a rough pat on the shoulder. “Renjun!” Haechan shouted.

Renjun let out a disgusted expression and pushed Haechan away from him. I walked up to them, with Haechan surprised to see me standing before them while Renjun greeted me with a welcoming smile. “I swear I will throw a chair at you if you stop being annoying.” Renjun said as he adjusted the straps of his bag on his shoulders. Haechan leaned back and gasped loudly, giggling right after. “Like hell you would.” Renjun shot him a scary glare, one that even made me scared and intimidated by him. Haechan grew quiet instantly. “So uh why’s she here?”

Haechan took a step back when Renjun went towards me to stand by my side. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his black jeans casually. “I’m going to hang out with her today. So don’t bother calling me out tonight alright?” I turned my head to look at Renjun, who had a cheeky smile on his face. Haechan frowned and let out a whine. “You promised to join the party!” Haechan folded his arms. Renjun lifted up his shoulders. “Sorry.” Haechan huffed loudly and walked away.

“If you have a party to get you don’t need to-” “It’s fine. Really. They aren’t my thing. I usually study.” Renjun flashed a reassuring smile. He walked forward while I was still standing still, probably feeling surprised that I was even about to go out with someone I’ve never interacted before until now. “What are you waiting for?” I looked up from the random spot on his back I was staring at and blinked my eyes rapidly. With a slight shake of my head, I smiled amicably and walked up to him after adjusting my bag that was slung on one shoulder. 

“Wait where are we going?” I questioned as Renjun and I took slow strides on our way out of campus. Renjun glanced up to the sky thoughtfully before looking back down and meeting my eyes. “Not sure, actually. Any ideas?” My lips formed a thin line. “Can we head to a library?” Renjun made a disgusted face, tongue sticking out slightly to add on. “Library? So you’re the kind that studies your problems away or what?” He feigned exasperation. I rolled my eyes and chuckled softly. “I mean... well that’s part of it. But I want to find a book to read too.”

Renjun shrugged casually. “If you want a book we can buy one from a bookstore.” My eyebrows go up, eyes narrowed at him. “Buy? Does it look like I have money?” I said, moving my hand up and down my outfit as if that even gave him an idea of how broke I was. “I could pay. If you promise to read the book, that is.” I scoffed and waved his words away. “Ah please. I can finish a book within a week if I truly like it. And trust me, I know when a book catches my attention.” I folded my arms confidently and I fought back.

“Bookstore it is then.” Renjun announced with a nod of his head. Though it was silent on our way there, I didn’t mind it. It wasn’t the kind of silence that breathed down our throats and would force us to let out a word at all. Comfortable silence, was what I’d describe our trip. We finally arrived, the name of the bookstore sitting above the door with a sign that said the shop was opened on the clear glass door. I took a peek inside for a moment. Though I’ve never been in quite some time, it didn’t seem to change much. Renjun was quick to open the door and almost letting the door shut. He was able to notice it and open back the door for me to enter. I smiled and looked to the floor as I walked in.

My gaze lifted itself from the floor and to my surroundings, which is basically shelves and shelves of books with two display rectangular tables in the center. I looked above the bookshelves, seeing the labels of the different genres. I instantly took quick steps to the fantasy books. “So you read fantasy?” Renjun said in an unusually low voice, adding on was his close presence behind me which could’ve made my breath hitched in my throat if I didn’t hold myself up. “I used to like romance. But the shit in romance novels never happen.” I picked a book off the shelve that seemed to have an interesting title. I flipped to the back and ran my index finger down the synopsis, quickly scanning through.

“It’s all... fake.” I whispered in the end, my voice was barely audible at the mention of ‘fake’. Renjun hummed and stood beside me instead of behind. With clasped hands behind his back, he scanned hus eyes over the bookshelf, head turning along while he did so. “Fantasy is fake too. They’re called fiction for a reason.” Renjun commented, which made me frown slightly when I realised what he meant. “I was just referring to the romance ones. Just too good to be true. And...” I lips formed a thin line as I exhaled sharply. “You can easily get sucked into holding the highest of standards without realising how harsh the real world is.” I forced a smile, looking at Renjun as I shoved the book I skimmed through back into its place, keeping my eyes on him.

I walked down to look through more books, Renjun would either be looking at me, peering with his head beside mine to read whatever I had in my hands at the moment, or skim through some books for himself. With quick glances I could tell he was only doing that out of boredom. “Okay, I have to choose one of these.” I muttered to myself, noticing how I had a large stack of books piled in my arms. I quickly eliminated most till I was down to two. Placing them both on the bookshelf, I nudged Renjun on the arm, turning his attention from the outside to me with a questioning hum. “Which one should I get?”

Renjun didn’t give a verbal reply, immediately picking one up to quickly read through and doing the same for the other. “Can I get one of the books? It seems interesting.” Renjun mumbled at he grabbed one of the books. I shrugged. “I don’t mind. But we’re switching books once we’re done with them. Got it?” Renjun furrowed his eyebrows. “Excuse me I’m the one paying for these.” I stick my tongue out like an annoying kid. “Yeah, whatever.” I turned sharply and headed straight for the counter. Renjun proceeded to pay and we checked out.

I never had an outing like this in a long time. My ex would simply drag me out to do other things that were out of my comfort zone, that were thinga I didn’t want to do. But being here, especially with Renjun, had made me feel that sense of belonging, one that I so dearly forgotten and missed. All I could think about now while laying in bed was Renjun, but I smacked my lips, forcing to shove the thoughts of him in the back of my mind and open the book to the first page.

“I’ve been here before. A lot of times, actually.” I said, with a finger to my lips. Renjun wanted to surprise me by taking me to a place to hang out, little did I realise it was the place my ex and I always went to. I turned to look at Renjun, who now had a frown on his face. One that so closely resembled Kim. It made my stomach form tight knots. “Is this where you’ve been with your ex?” As if Renjun read my mind, I slowly nodded. Rejun clicked his tongue and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. If this place brings you bad memories then-” I brought my hand up to hold his forearm, flashing him a gentle smile. “It’s fine.” I whispered, heading in.

We bought the picnic basket and headed out to the large field on grass, with flowers surrounding the perimeter. We chose a random spot, making sure we had a good view... of whatever we could see in the sky and sat up. We began to unpack and once we had all the food laid in front of us, we sat down next to the each other, legs both crossed with our knees touching. “So you wanted to take me out on a picnic?” I questioned in surprise, reaching out for a slice of watermelon. Renjun breathed out a short laugh and nodded.

It did make me think about how Kim and I used to come here a lot. It was our place. Though it pained my heart to be here, the burden somehow lifted itself with Renjun’s presence. His aura and being got me distracted. Indeed, whatever Renjun had always been doing, has helped me move on from Kim. We chat and ate laughing and coming up with random things to argue about for the fun of it. “Excuse me? I’ll have you know cats are the most adorable house pets one could ever have!” I shouted with force. “No! Dogs!” Renjun protested and the both of us laughed.

At a time like this, I realised just how similar Renjun was to Kim. The way he smiled, laughed. When I got home, the small decor we got from the picnic basket in my hands, I recalled the day I had with Renjun. How we got to see the sunset, the sky turning pink with streaks of orange, slowly turning itself into ink black to allow the night to settle in. My thoughts were at first innocent, but it was slowly growing dark. “Why do I see Kim in your eyes, Renjun?” I whispered to myself, thumb hovering over the decor. I couldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t even have a single thought of this.

Another time like this came about when Renjun took me out of a hangout to the arcade. He offered to pay, like he always did. And we played for hours. I saw the way he played with so much fire and passion, even if it was over a simple game of DDR or a shooting game. He’d do anything to beat me. He was competitive, just like Kim. “You didn’t have to go hard on me!” I whined, placing the gun down with a hard slam and a huff of annoyance. Renjun turned me around by placing both hands firmly on my shoulders. He took a large step in front, closing the gal between us till our chests touched, the strong sense of pulling him closer was there as he dipped his head down to meet my gaze.

“You mad, babe?” Renjun whispered, sending an electric shock throughout my body from the contact of his hands. That was the first time he called me babe. And that made a feeling in my body that I knew all too well. The butterflies fluttering in my stomach, how my lungs clenched at the close proximity of his face to him, yet I wouldn’t bother grasping for air, I wanted to stay like this— close. I looked up at him and narrowed my eyes. “Excuse you can I not be? You beat me at almost every game!” I rolled my eyes and jerked myself off his grip. I wanted to turn around but he was quick to have a hold of my wrist to pull me back into his embrace.

With his hand slowly gliding around my waist, he placed his hand there gently, somewhat leaving a gap between his hand and my skin but was still able to pull me close with the tug of my wrist. Renjun pouted deeply and shook his head. “Not true! I let you win the basketball game.” Renjun curved one side of his lips up in a defeating smirk. I stuck my tongue out in annoyance. “No you just sucked at playing basketball.” I teased, laughing loudly which made Renjun laugh as well, smacking my arm lightly. “Shut up.”

I looked into his eyes. In a busy place like an arcade, it’s as if everything else had been wiped out, leaving Renjun and I with pure silence in my head when we locked eyes. I was falling, trapped in his gaze. My feelings for Renjun only grew more and more when he began to express himself as more than just a friend. He was trying to get me. I knew he began to like me that day. When Renjun and I walked home, he had his eyes on the ground. We were silently walking, which felt unusual to me. He never seemed this quiet.

With a quiet sigh I looked to the side, looking at the street lamps that illuminated the pathway with an orange hue, with a cold breeze whispering through the trees. Suddenly, I felt a touch of electricity. I slowly looked down to my hand, seeing Renjun sliding his hand to meet my hand and threading his fingers between mine. The touch sent a shock through my veins. It felt like I was suddenly lit and energy coursing in me. “Is this why you were quiet this whole time?” I questioned Renjun, a small smirk of tease playing on my lips as I lifted our hands up in front of him.

Renjun widened his eyes for a split second and quickly shook his head. He scoffed in denial. “What? No.” He retorted back. “But it was smooth, wasn’t it?” Renjun asked with a light giggle. I breathed out a laugh and sighed loudly in satisfaction, tilting my head up to meet the dark sky of the night. “Tonight’s been fun.” I whispered softly. But I stopped in my tracks, making him turn his body to face mine. “But we’re going to study once we get on campus.”

Renjun gaped his mouth open in shock, eventually turning his shocked expression into a pitiful one while letting out a long whine. “Why?! I don’t wanna study.” I chuckled and brought my free hand up to play with his soft hair. “You don’t need to. Just accompany me while I study. I have a lot to catch up on.” I smiled softly, which he responded with a sweet smile back.

It didn’t need a confession. We didn’t need to say it out loud. We felt our longing for each other and it naturally began, more physical touching, calling each other babe. It was just the beginning of our relationship, but what confused me was how easy I was able to fall for Renjun, after trying for so long to get over Kim. Just what was it in me that had me make that quick switch?

As time went on and I got to spend more time with Renjun, my feelings for him spurred quickly. But I knew it was the wrong kind. It’s the one that held my feelings for Kim still. I just saw Renjun as him and wanted to get close to him for the sake of feeling the love again. “Fuck. I’m using him.” The realisation came quick, though it took me awhile to know. I might have noticed from the very start, but I chose to ignore it, thinking it wasn’t true. With this keeping me up all night and putting me in a bad place with my overthinking, I wanted to distance myself from Renjun for awhile, which in the end got me to continue with this lie.

“You good?” Renjun questioned. We were hanging out by the field of flowers, having a silent book readin session as I laid my shoulder on his. He probably noticed me staring off into the distance and haven’t read a single line on the same page for at least ten minutes. I shook my head slowly and forced a smiled, turning my head to look up at him. Trying to seem normal, I answered, “Yeah. Just stressing over an assignment.” I tilted my eyes back down to my book. I trailed off in my thoughts too much that I even forgotten when I was at in the novel.

I did what I only could’ve thought of, which only led to his stubbornness and determination track down why I’ve been avoiding him for an entire week.

“Open the door. I know you’re in there.” I woke up to Renjun’s voice and his violent knocking that shook me awake. I winced at the sunlight that went in through the window uninvited and clearly unwanted. It was too much light for someone who’s going through a confusingly hard time. I gulped and rose out of bed, slowly walking to the door when the realisation hit me. I had to tell him about it. I couldn’t avoid it any longer.

I slammed my palm hard on my forehead. Why was I even dumb enough to do this in the first place? I knew all too well he’d come for me eventually. What was the point of me running away to avoid my feelings? I breathed out slowly, wanting to steady my heart which had been pounding so hard in desperation to get out of my ribcage. After closing my eyes for a moment, I grabbed the door handle that was creepily cold to the touch and opened the door.

I looked at Renjun standing in front of me. He looked tired, as if he stayed up all night. He didn’t bother to look presentable with his messy hair, puffy face, eye bags as dark as the moon. He looked restless. This wasn’t him at all. He seemed out of place. He said nothing, simply walking into my room after shoving me aside lightly with his hand. I followed behind him, too scared of how he might react while he interrogate me.

Renjun went to sit at the edge of my bed. I took the chair of my study table and pulled it to seat in front of me. With my actions so uptight and out of place, I knew that he knew that something was wrong. Clearly wrong. I watched as Renjun closed his eyes, somewhat in a way to compose himself of whatever feelings he was having at the moment. But when he met my eyes, it was intimidatingly dark. He was staring right into my soul, possibly reading whatever’s in my heart.

He leaned forward and interlocked his fingers together in front of him. “An explanation would be nice.” He said in a monotonous voice. I wasn’t liking this one bit. Renjun was scary. Like there was a fire inside him that no one could put out yet he’s able to keep his tone raw and bare. “I...” I began to trailed off, trying to quickly form a sentence. I opened my mouth, but no words came out. I tried to force myself to speak.

“I’m sorry.” I let out, looking down. With my head tilted down, my eyes looked to his again. And I could tell they were now filled with anger, and disappointment. “I know you are. But why?” Renjun asked again. I swallowed all my feelings down my throat in hopes that I won’t spill them out and cry while trying to explain. “I used you, okay? When I first met you, and we began to hang out, you just so vaguely resembled Kim and I...” The tears began to well up in my eyes. My vision got blurry and I lost sight of Renjun.

“I just thought I could get over him if I forced myself to fall for you.” I blinked my eyes, the tears giving in and streaming down my dried cheeks, wetting them with guilt and resentment towards myself. Renjun was sitting still in front of me. There was no expression change in his face, and that scared me even more. But what was said next, had my heart shattering even more than it did last time. “So I see there was no point in liking you in the first place.” Renjun stood up. But after he took one step, I quickly rose from the chair and grabbed his wrist, holding onto it tightly as if trying my best to hold onto his heart that could now slip away from my grasp at any second.

“What?” Renjun asked, a hint of annoyance shining through his tone. That simple word rolled hard off his tongue, and I knew he meant for it to slice through my sliver of hope. I feel the sting of the word, like a pinprick, like the word itself is trying to pop me the way it pops my thought bubble “My feelings are real, Renjun. None of it was fake.” I pleaded, holding myself back from shedding more tears. “You’re just contradicting yourself.” Renjun jerked my grip off him roughly, hard enough for me to stumble a step back in shock. My mouth was still agape, my brain trying its best to work fast on how I could make this even the slightest bit better. It’s as if the

But as soon as I saw Renjun taking his steps to my door, I knew there was nothing left for me to do. The door slammed shut, and he was completely out of my view. When he went away, for a long moment, I went empty too, like all of me just flooded out and disappeared. Then it hit me. Renjun wasn’t going to come back. He’s never going to talk to me again. I dropped to the floor as if all the life has been sucked out of me, the earth wanting to drain me of my ever happiness as punishment. It’s like the world went blank and still, and so do I. My chest is clenching tighter and tighter, suffocating my lungs and stopping me from breathing in air.

“Fuck you’re stupid.” I croaked out, my eyes shut so tight with my head hanging loose to face the ground in embarrassment. My heart pounded so hard I thought my bones might shatter. I could hear it in my eardrums as all the feelings that were pinching me inside slowly grew numb. My eyes were puffy and I was loosing myself in that moment. I risked everything I had with Renjun for the sake of my pride. And I’ll never know if I could ever overcome this swelling pain.

Weeks went by. I used to count how many days I went without Renjun, but I stopped. What was the point to that anyways? I guess it served me as a coping system to reassure myself that I could be well withhout Renjun. But I knew deep down I wasn’t. Not at all. The hours, minutes, seconds of ever day went by as if forever. And it hurt every time. I never got Renjun out of my mind, no matter what I tried to do. Study, go out for a drink, read. Nothing. Because it all related back to Renjun. He was so entangled into my life within that short time span that it felt almost impossible to do anything.

I would occasionally see Renjun walk on campus with his group of friends. He had the smile that he mentioned he’d only show to me, for me. I could hear his laughter down the hallway and my heart would break just a little more. It was hard. He was my only friend. And yet he’s better off without me, knowing he had others to go to. I was alone, and I had myself to blame for that.

One day, I couldn’t bare it any longer. I wanted to talk to him. In any way. I just needed a second of his time, of his touch. This afternoon after my lecture, I saw him walking alone on campus. He had his head held high and confident, occasionally greeting people he knew. The smile never left his face, and his hair captured all the sunlight as if it was all shining on solely him. I wanted to move, but something in me had my feet rooted to the ground. Perhaps it was me knowing that he was indeed better off without me, and I had to live with this weight in my heart.

“You’ve been staring at him for so long.” I startled awake from my trailed off thoughts when a voice sat itself low beside my head. I turned around, meeting Haechan’s face close to him. I leaned back from the sudden shock. “I know something’s wrong.” Haechan He shrugged in a blasé, god-could-care sort of way, knowing it would get me alert. “He told you, I suppose?” I whispered, looking down to my feet that missed their chance at carrying me to Renjun. Haechan scoffed, almost in a sarcastic manner. “He told me nothing. I’m just observant.” He corrected me with a professional sort of tone.

My eyebrows go up in question, but I soon gave a lifeless expression after. “It’s none of your business.” I was about to walk away when he prevented me from even taking one step with his grip on my wrist. I turned around to meet his eyes. For a moment it flashed pity. “Care for coffee?”

I gulped, my eyes never leaving the coffee that was in front of me, reflecting my terrible face in it that made me grimace at myself silently. I frowned, looking up to Haechan who was staring at me as if watching my every move with his lip cup resting on his lips. “What am I here for?” I finally asked after the long silence passed by. Haechan sighed for three days. “Don’t think Renjun has been well off without you.” He said straight up, no filter, no nothing. I stared at him, rendered clueless. I tried to sink in his words but I quickly got cut off when he continued with, “Trust me. I know Renjun my whole life. He’s putting on a show for you. Though you and I don’t know what he does behind closed doors. I know the way you currently view him is not him at all.”

Haechan’s words got me wanting to speak, but not a single word could leave my mouth. So many things came into my mind. So many questions I wanted to ask. But I guess the overload made my brain lag and unable to process anything but Haechan’s words. “How is he?” I managed to spoke, though it cracked for a moment and it was barely audible. “He acts fine around us. As if we don’t know him enough to know that he’s been ditching us to hang out with you.” Haechan chuckled lowly and shook his head. “If anything, he needs you to approach him. I mean I know he’d be doing it first if it wasn’t for his god annoying pride.”

Haechan leaned closer, with a mysterious gaze that pulled me in response, as if he wanted to tell a secret. “Whatever you two have going on, fix it. I don’t like seeing my friend put on a show for a girl. Make him happy again. And do whatever it takes.” Haechan rose from his seat, the screeching of the chair making contact with the floor as he pushed it back to allow himself to slip away from the table. He casually walked out, his footsteps sharp and precise and soon disappear. Bullets of Haechan’s harsh words buried themselves in my chest. But soon a coil of hope unraveled in my stomach.

I sat there, still in awe. How could I not believe Haechan’s words? He’s Renjun’s best friend. If Renjun really was going through a hard time, all the more I had to do something about it. I sighed, slowly changing my gaze from the random spot on the chair in front of me to my phone that sat quietly on the table. With a shut of my eyes, I reached for it, turning it on and going to Renjun’s contact. I never changed it. It was still ‘Annoying prick<3’ I breathed out a short laugh. My thumb shakily went to the call buttoned and hovered over it for awhile. I had no idea what I was going to do if he picked up. But I went for it anyway.

The ringing was beginning to haunt me by the fifth time. And just when I wanted to end the call, it picked up and I could hear Renjun’s shallow breathing through the speaker. “Hey.” He simply said. Hope provided a burst of warmth inside of me. “Are you free tonight...?” I questioned slowly with much uncertainty. A long pause went by. It was killing me. “Yeah.” Renjun’s short answers sounded normal. But something about it sent a cold chill down my spine. “Meet me at the park at 10. You know where.” I quickly ended the call and pressed the phone close to my chest. I was so nervous that I didn’t even get his confirmation that he’ll be there. Looks like I’ll be taking my chances like a real idiot.

That night, the cold seemed to be pinching my bare face. I sat there on the bench. At first my hopes were high and I was waiting with my back straight and shoulders back to give a good impression. But as hours went by as the temperature seemed to drop tremendously and I could feel my lips and face freezing up, I slowly slouched and huddled myself in a tight hug, claiming desperately for warmth. The only thing that was currently giving me hope was the bright moon shining its light on everything with the stars to accompany it with its little to no presence, yet still as prominent as the moon to me.

I wasn’t prepared for such a night at all, simply coming here in a hoodie and sweatpants. I bit my lower lip as my overthinking began to trail itself down a dark path. I swallowed down my hurt feelings, closing my eyes and simply wanting to take a break from all I had endured. I needed the rest. Suddenly, I felt something heavy draped over my shoulders, wrapping around my around. The action got me to hold my body still. But I managed to flutter my eyelids open and turn to look the one responsible.

“Renjun.” I softly called out. I cracked a weak smile. “You actually came.” “You dumb fuck.” Renjun’s words got my expressionless and tired face to make mold itself into a shocked one. He roughly placed his hands firmly on my shoulders and turned my upper body to face him. My eyes met his, and he was examining every inch of my face in worry. He cupped my cheeks in his hands, his palm welcoming itself with warmth. His gentle touching imbued with care was instantly recognisable. “How long have you been waiting out here?” Renjun’s voice was highly concerned.

“Not long.” I slowly replied. Renjun shook his head intensely and pulled me into his embrace. It was tight, yet not suffocating. It was one that’s all too familiar. “You idiot. Don’t you know how to determine when it’s finally time to go back?” Renjun whispered, his worrisome still obvious in his tone. I rest my head against his chest, his heart beating rapidly against my ear that was pressed right at where his heart was. Did he come running here?

“How can I? I know no bounds when it came to you.” I whispered, a teardrop instantly falling out of my already overflowing eyes. I pressed myself into him more, my hands eventually lifting themselves up on instinct to wrap around Renjun’s chest. Renjun placed his chin on top of my head, slowly tilting it down to plant a soft and feather-like kiss on the crown of my head. “I hate you. I still do. But I’m not worth enough to have you waiting out here in the damn cold.”

The ground between us feels a little more solid but the rest of the world shakes like it’s built on a high wire miles above the earth, crashing down and leaving only Renjun and I still standing, still here in this moment. My heart began to pick up its pace, with a heartbeat that threatened to tear through my ribcage from Renjun’s ever so careful touch. Renjun sighed and pulled away, my body still close to his. He gaze met mine and he never failed to have it locked on me. That action alone was enough to make me break out in goose bumps, to make my stomach crisscross into deep knots.

“Say that you love me.” Renjun was studying my eyes, as if looking into my soul for any more lies. But I quickly reverted it. “I love you.” I was sincere, from the bottom of my heart. And I tried my heart to have my eyes and voice tell it for him. Renjun hugged me close again and kissed my forehead, letting his lips stay there as it brushed lightly above my skin.

“I may be Kim’s lookalike. But I’m much more different when I’m with you.” I hummed in reply, my body going limp under his touch as I let his warmth surround me with his love that I truly missed. 

[arthurtristankingsmen]

Heal

His hands were shaking.

He understood why, but it was inconvenient right now. He just wanted something to keep his mind on. He’d intended it to be putting their gear away, but his only remaining hand was frigid and numb and wouldn’t listen to him. He stood outside the van, carrying cases stacked with the top ones open and foam pulled out, but he couldn’t get the pieces to fit in the impressions. It was hard with one arm, and he could barely see, vision twisting and blurring while his shoulders shook. Every now and then, he had to stop to cough into his hand and that only slowed his progress further.

He’d managed half their equipment. It was slow going while his prosthetic was useless, but once all the ghost-hunting paraphernalia was away, he could break out his tools and get to work on that. It’d take a bit, but he could fix it. He might have to replace a lot of the inner-workings, especially the circuitry, but it wasn’t a big deal when it was far better than the alternative outcome.

Arthur heaved a sigh, and jammed the next piece into its slot. It wasn’t nestled in the foam like it was supposed to be, but it’d just be another thing he couldn’t get right. He knew something was wrong. He’d felt it about the place. He knew it he knew and he’d not acted faster and Vivi almost--

Hair raised on the back of his neck and he caught a scent like cinnamon and vanilla. He didn’t turn from the box, eyes glued to the piece inside, not quite right. It didn’t fit in it shouldn’t be here. It wasn’t wanted. Maybe it was useful sometimes, but maybe it should stop kidding itself it was its fault anyways because if it hadn’t hurt its friend he could’ve done the same and better.

“Arthur?” The voice he expected to hear sounded behind him, and his shoulders hunched a few degrees, He jammed the foam back into place on the sensor he’d been boring holes into, and closed the lid. The voice was so-- gentle. Not like he sounded usually. Usually Lewis was so cold now. Distant. The question was so soft but somehow that hurt more. It almost sounded like he was worried.

“Is Vivi okay?” He still didn’t turn around. He sunk lower between his raising shoulders. Fingers flexing and then balling so hard his knuckles turned white and his palm burned. 

“She’ll be okay...She’s warm. She’s sleeping now. Mystery is helping, too.” He nearly sagged when some of the weight slid off him, but his spine stayed ramrod. He didn’t have to turn around and there weren’t any footsteps, but he knew Lewis was getting closer. His head was buzzing at the sensation and he shivered because of the steady heat behind him, like his back was to a hearth or a wood-burning stove. It was so different from the ice his skin had been sheeted with and that froze his veins and numbed his hand.

“Oh. Good.”

He wished he had more to say, but the words dangled between them in the air, a waving banner dedicated to his awkwardness. He focused on latching the case he’d closed, and moved it aside to open the next one. 

“Arthur.”

“Mm?”

There was a sound behind him. “Arthur. Please look at me.”

The request was so small. It was soft, not a command, and the way the request squeezed out almost sounded like a plea. Arthur licked his lips and screwed his eyes shut for a moment, before he wheeled around, dragging himself like a rusted valve until he’d turned enough to see him. 

He swallowed the lump in his throat when he saw Lewis’s face. it was his face face. He never wore that when it was just them. He’d tried to explain why, once. But all he’d gleaned from the attempt was that he felt safer around him not being vulnerable. It was a far cry from where they used to be. It twisted his chest. He brushed back his hair and made eye contact with the ground.

“--Arthur?” Lewis’s voice came back into focus, but before he opened his mouth, a hand touched his arm. It struck him like lightning and he couldn’t move, and his voice locked. His hand was warm, but in a pleasant way. “You zoned out there. Are you okay? And Arthur-- why are you cold, still?”

That unglued his mouth. His voice wavered and he offered a shaky shrug. “I-- I figured. Better to get Vivi warmed. And-- faster we leave we can get somewhere warmer. I changed clothes.” He coughed again into his hand.

That made Lewis’s brow crease. “Arthur... you went into the water too.”

“Y-yeah, but Vivi was under longer.”

“And you swallowed more water than she did.” Lewis flickered, voice harsh in its firmness. Arthur hunched, and it hit the switch, his best friend Lewis receding back to his eggshell-stepping. It made him want to yank his hair out this was so wrong it shouldn’t be this way it wasn’t fair but who’s fault was it--

Lewis’s snagged his hand, and the thoughts jarred to a halt. “I’m sorry. For snapping. I-- shouldn’t.” He looked away, and every instinct wanted to reach out and comfort him. Tell him it was alright, it wasn’t his fault. But Lewis’s mouth opened again. “But...Arthur. You need to take care of yourself. This... I know I’ve been hard to... talk to. Deal with. I’m so angry. All the time. And it bubbles up so easily with you.” 

Arthur hunched in silence and he nodded. Lewis continued. “But. But that isn’t your fault. It’s.... I don’t want to be angry at you, Arthur. I still.... I care about you. I don’t want you to hurt yourself. Not like this.” Arthur looked up at him. There were tears, mostly clear with a pink glow, instead of the sludgy black they had been what felt like a lifetime ago. When so much of the anger had left him. 

“I know you’re still a good person. I know you always were.” Lewis shuddered. “I don’t want to keep hurting you because I can’t-- control my temper. It’s not fair to you.” Lewis wiped at his nose and sniffled, and that spurred Arthur to move.

He took his hand from Lewis’s, and it made Lewis pause. But instead of retreating or pulling away, his hand just came up to wipe at the tears and their glistening streaks. 

There was a silence. A long respite, where Arthur wordlessly wiped at his cheeks, and Lewis stared at his hand and then him. He could see his gaze in his periphery, but he couldn’t meet it.

“I just... want you happy.” Arthur muttered. “I can’t undo... anything. But if I could fix this, I would. But.... I’m just glad you’re here. I know you can’t help it. I don’t blame you.”

“I blame me.” Lewis’s hand overlaid his own. “I know it hurts you. I know it does when I get angry. Or when I try to not say anything so I don’t hurt you. I don’t want you to feel like I want nothing to do with you. I just-- I don’t want to be the monster I almost was. I don’t want to keep hurting you.”

Arthur swallowed something thick in his throat. “You’re not. You’re not a monster. You didn’t have a choice.”

“And you did?”

He froze solid, hearing Lewis say that. “I-- what--”

“You know what I mean. And I know you.” Lewis took his chin and tilted it so they’d meet each other’s gaze. “I don’t always... notice things. Or connect the dots. But I know you. And you didn’t have a choice either.”

Arthur looked at him a long moment, before he shrugged. It was the best answer he could give. Arguments filled his mouth, but he swallowed them for now. Disagreeing would just make Lewis try to convince him more. 

Lewis seemed satisfied enough with that. “I know what kind of person you are,” He continued. “You want to know who that is...?”

“Who...?” 

Lewis smiled. “The kind of person who jumps into an icy lake, to save our best friend from a spirit who pulled her under. The kind of person who doesn’t think twice about how dangerous it is. The only person who could go under that surface because of the magic seals, and who didn’t even need to be asked. Who didn’t know that, but didn’t care. The person who held her above water and risked himself. The person who did that even when your arm stopped working and weighed you down. Who still held her up when it did, so she’d stay above even when that meant you kept going under. The person determined enough to save her despite everything. And the person who did.”  

The tears were there again as he put his hands on each side of Arthur’s face. “Vivi is the love of my life. And my afterlife. She’s one of my best friends. And you saved her when no one else could. That’s who you are, Arthur. A friend who does what it takes for everyone he cares about. I wish I had remembered that. Because when it comes down to it...? That’s who you are. I didn’t lose her, because you saved her.”

Arthur made a choked noise, but it was nothing next to the sound that escaped when large arms wrapped around him, and Lewis held him close in a tight embrace. 

It was the first one Lewis had given him, since he’d come back to the team in full.

“I thought I was going to. To lose her. I couldn’t reach her. And then I thought I might lose you both. And that was terrifying.” Lewis’s voice wavered. He shook and clutched him tighter. He could feel his hands balling against his shirt with handfuls of fabric, just underneath his vest. “You matter too. You have to know you matter.” Lewis whispered it against his hair, clutching him tight. “I can’t lose either of you. Any of you. You have to know that, Arthur. I want all of us to be okay. You’re a part of that.”

“L-Lewis-- I--.” He warbled, hardly able to string words together. Lewis’s embrace was so familiar and nostalgic. It was so warm and he smelled like snickerdoodles and he held him so close he almost forgot how how far apart they were. He stayed frozen in his hold until Lewis’s warmth thawed him enough to hold back, making the numbness recede. There were butterflies in his lungs and the ice was melting where it’d seized him inside.

 He shook now, but he said nothing. He couldn’t. His voice was choked out and he couldn’t speak. He knew if he tried he’d just cry. He didn’t want to. 

Lewis did let go after a time, but he only pulled back, his arms going to Arthur’s shoulders. “Thank you. For saving her. I-- I know I’m still angry. But I want to try. I know who you are, Arthur. So we can try... to heal. Right? I want to. I want to get through this. And I still want you with us.”

Arthur could feel his eyes stinging and he nodded. 

Lewis hugged him again, though this one was shorter. But it still meant everything, and held all the weight he’d been shouldering, so he could breathe without gasping. “Good. Now this all can wait.” He gestured to the equipment, but Lewis’s gaze never left him. “Let’s just... it’s warm in the van, Arthur. Come inside. Vivi will kick my shins if she wakes up and you’re still freezing. You wouldn’t want to risk those, would you?”

Arthur made a sound. It might’ve been a chuckle at one point.  “N-no-- a-and V-viv-- she’d-- be-- be sad she couldn’t-- stick her cold toes on-- me.” He stuttered and halted as he spoke, slow and choppy. It was lighthearted, but his voice still threatened to break the dam with every word. It was the best he could do to keep himself steady and still say them. 

But Lewis’s soft laugh said it was enough. 

The divide felt smaller, with Lewis’s hand on his shoulder, as he ushered him in through the van’s back doors.

[mieohmy]

𝖲𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖡𝖾𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗒 (𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝖭𝗈𝗍 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒) | 𝖬𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝖫𝖾𝖾

PAIRING: intern! lee mark x intern! reader

GENRE: fluff, humor, coworkers-to-lovers, slight pining

WC: 1.7k

NOTES: slight cursing

SUMMARY: just you being forced to share a hotel room with another cute intern. but of course that room has only one bed....

☾

Does the universe hate you? is the only thing running through your head. You’re shivering, hands rubbing together to create warmth as you wait for the worker to pull up a room. Mark stands next to you, bouncing up and down to keep warm. 

Curse your stupid CEO for forcing you and Mark to go to this hotel. Curse the weather for snowing you two in. Curse yourself for choosing to intern at this company. The only person you couldn’t curse was Mark. The whole day had been a mess, and he was nothing but helpful. Except for at this moment, he couldn’t do anything, as much as you wished he could. 

Finally, the lady tells you they have one last room open since it was such short notice. You sigh, accepting it since you have no other choice. It was either take this room or spend the night out in the cold. 

Obtaining the room card, Mark takes your suitcase, and you gratefully thank him. Getting in the elevator, you press the fifth floor. You turn to Mark. “Someday, isn’t it?” He attempts to smile, but it comes out more like a grimace. “I thought this was gonna be a vacation, but here we are freezing our butts off.” You laugh before the doors open. 

Shuffling out, you find your room. Eagerly, you open the door, ready for some warmth and a cozy bed. The door creaks open, and you don’t move.

“Y/n?? What’s wrong?” You don’t say anything, just stepping aside for him to see. There’s only one fucking bed.  

Mark awkwardly scratches his head. “Well.... what do we do?” Running your hands through your hair in annoyance, you huff. “What else can we do? This is the last room unless you want to sleep outside in the snow.” 

You push through, and Mark follows. It’s honestly a nice room, except that there was only one bed- and two people. “I’ll sleep on the couch.” Mark offers. Frowning, you hesitate whether to offer to share the bed or not. The couch was cute, sure, but small and not fit for sleeping. Anyone could tell.

You had absolutely nothing against Mark. He was an intern that applied alongside you, extremely kind and polite. Being the two newbies, you both got along pretty well. You would even say the two of you were friends. But was sharing a bed crossing the line?

Biting your lip, you shake your head. “It’s okay. Mark offered to take the couch. I’ll pay him back later with food,” you assure yourself. You let him wash up first in the bathroom before you go in and get ready for bed. 

You take a glance at Mark already on the couch. You notice his feet are hanging off the edge and immediately feel guilty. “Are you sure it’s okay, Mark?” He nods. “Seriously, y/n, I’m fine.” You made sure he had enough blankets and a pillow before turning the light off. 

Getting under the covers, you almost immediately fall asleep. The events of the day exhausted you. First, waking up every day for work at 6, then finally arriving after a late bus. Next thing you know, the boss calls you and Mark up. “We just want you to go and test this hotel for one night, that’s all.” And then you ended up getting snowed in and forced to stay two more days. Great. 

Your eyes suddenly flick open. It’s dark, and you can barely see the ceiling. Rolling over, you catch the time. 1:59 am. 

It’s cold, you think while groaning. Suddenly, you hear a sneeze. Shoot, Mark. Getting up, you squint your eyes in the dark to find him. He’s shivering and curled up in a ball on the small couch. Your heart pangs. You can’t do this anymore. 

“Mark,” you rasp. You tiptoe over to the couch. Light shaking his arm, you call his name again. He slowly lifts his head, eyes barely open. 

You grab his arm. He’s lighter than you thought as you pull him up and over to the bed. Yawning, you push him onto it and climb to the other side. Placing a pillow between as a border, you whisper a soft “good night” before getting under the covers again and falling into darkness. 

Beep. Beep. Beeep. The alarm rings through your head, but surprisingly, you wake up refreshed. You sleepily stare at the ceiling before remembering Mark. Turning, you gasp at the sight. 

“Oh my god, Mark. What happened to you?” You expected to see a sleeping Mark. Instead, he was staring straight up at the ceiling, not blinking. His head slowly turns to yours, eyes bloodshot, and the bags underneath very visible.

He talked slow, voice scratchy and deep. “I’m not sure how I got here, but It suddenly got so hot last night.... you kinda rolled right next to me. So I threw off the blankets. Then it got really cold. You took all of them. It was freezing.” He pauses before looking back at the ceiling. “You kick a lot in your sleep..” 

You cringe, horrified. “I’m so sorry Mark.. I totally forgot to warn you about my sleeping habits... I felt so bad seeing you on the couch and kinda just forced you here.  ”

You both get ready to get breakfast downstairs and check if the snow had gotten better. Once you arrive at the dining area, you head straight to the drink station. 

Mark finds a table, slumping down and placing his cheek on the hard surface. You softly place the steaming cup of tea next to him. 

“I... I thought it’d be better if you had tea. That’s okay, right?” you ask. Mark gratefully nods before taking a sip. Looking outside, you frown. “I’m not sure if it’s cleared up yet. I guess we’re still stuck here.” Mark yawns. 

“I’m guessing you didn’t get much sleep?” you say sheepishly. Mark groans. “Who knew you did all that in your sleep?” You press your lips together. “I know, it’s bad, but I have no idea how to fix it. You kinda just learn to deal with it..” 

It’s too cold to go exploring, so you decide to head back up to your room after eating. The two of you walk to the elevator. While waiting, Mark suddenly slumps forward into you, falling, and you’re somehow able to catch him, holding him in an embrace. 

“Mark?” You gently ask, concerned. Eyes closed, he mumbles softly, “Have I ever told you I wanted to ask you out?” You freeze. What the fuck? 

Laughing nervously, you desperately tap him, trying to get him to wake up. He’s still slumped over in your arms, and you somehow drag him into the elevator. He’s finally able to stand as the elevator rides up. There’s an awkward silence. You’re not sure what to say. 

Getting off, you open the door to the room as Mark trails behind you. Your mind’s a mess, but you force Mark to sleep first. “Go to sleep, Mark. You need it. I’ll wake you up later.” He tries to protest, but you shove him to bed. 

After he’s settled, you sit on the couch, processing what he said. Are you sure you heard him right? Did Mark Lee really say he wanted to ask you out?? Maybe he was just too sleep-deprived?? 

You punch yourself in the head. Stupid, stupid. Mark just confessed,  and you didn’t even say anything?? You let out a silent scream. Do you even like him back? You never thought of him in that way.

You think back to the first time you met him. 

It was the two of you standing awkwardly as the boss introduced everyone. Mark seemed so professional at first, but you later found out how awkward and hilarious he was. The late nights working on papers and projects together makes you grin. 

Honestly, it’s just fun hanging out with him, you realize.

You bite your lip. Maybe you do like him, you’re not sure. Should you ask him? Did he mean it? Or does he not remember?? Ugh, why is this stuff so complicated...

Mark wakes up hungry, and you take him to eat downstairs in the lobby. He doesn’t bring it up, so you don’t say anything. The whole time, it’s pretty silent, and you’re not sure why you feel so awkward. 

Once you get back to the room, you both get ready for bed. You suddenly get a text from your boss. 

“Your flight back is rescheduled for tomorrow at 7 am. You should be good to check out tomorrow. Don’t be late.” it reads.

You show Mark the message. “So I guess we’re leaving tomorrow?” You nod, feeling slightly disappointed? 

No questions asked, you make Mark sleep next to you. You still put up the pillow border, though. “I’m sorry if I kick you or steal the blankets,” you warn this time. He laughs. “It’s okay, I’m prepared.” 

You slip under the covers, ready to get some sleep before the early flight tomorrow, but you find yourself unable to. You toss and turn, the precious sleep not coming to you. 

You don’t know what time it is, but Mark eventually shifts next to you. “Can’t sleep?” he says quietly. You let out a breath. It’s now or never. “Did you mean it? That you wanted to ask me out?”

You hear him inhale. “I-um yes, I did mean it. It wasn’t supposed to come out, I was just tired and l-“ You cut his rambling off. “Oh, so why didn’t you?” 

Looking at him, you notice he’s staring up at the ceiling again. He gulps, turning to face you. “Well-I- uh, was afraid you would say no..” 

“Well, I haven’t rejected you yet, haven’t I?” you whisper. You timidly lean over the pillows, placing a kiss on his cheek. He stares at you, wide-eyed. You move back to your spot.  “Goodnight Mark. Just hit me if I bother you in my sleep.” You close your eyes, trying your best to fall asleep, heart racing. 

And before you know it, you’re waking up to an alarm sound. The next morning, it’s freezing as the two of you get ready. Grabbing all your belongings, you and Mark successfully check out. You’re rolling your suitcase outside when you suddenly feel Mark grab your hand. He places it inside his jacket pocket. 

You turn to him, surprised. He coughs, ears red. “It’s cold.” Your face may be freezing, but your heart is warm. 

☾    

And even after many years, when your relatives ask your husband how he deals with your sleeping habits, Mark only shrugs. “You get used to it.”

[bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture]

The first match continues! How will our intrepid hero get out of this mess? (Spoilers, it’s ghosts.)

[No. 33 - Shinsou’s Situation]

Our first page here is actually another mock cover! Which I think might be a nod to some other comic book cover, though I would not be able to tell you which one.

Poor Izuku’s shirt, who knows where it might have gone. Boy’s gonna get a cold like that. And he’s standing on top of the rubble of a fallen apartment building I think? Just from the ladder and some of the brick-like debris. And the gloves and boots are definitely a different style from what we see Izuku wearing in canon. 

Anyways, into the chapter proper. The crowd’s making a lot of noise as Izuku continues to stand there frozen, with Present Mic comments on that fact, along with how Izuku is looking confounded and not even twitching. He correctly identifies it as Shinsou’s quirk at play, though he frames it as a question because, you know, show business. Ochako and Tenya are confused and concerned, as is Toshinori. 

Shinsou continues to stand there, menacingly, as Present Mic goes on about how they were barely aware that this guy existed, but now he’s sure one to keep an eye on! Aizawa brings up a pair of sheets, catching Mic’s attention, as he brings up how the entrance exam was completely irrational. The sheets have simple specs on the two, since they knew this would be a quirk versus quirk battle.

...wait, oh my god, but this WAS a quirk versus quirk, battle, though, just not in the way anyone was expecting! It was a mental control battle instead of a physical versus mental quirk battle! And was our first nod towards One For All having a powerful mental aspect, which becomes a major plot point like 250 chapters from now. I am just. Huh. Well then.

Continuing on with Aizawa’s commentary. Shinsou apparently failed the practical part of the exam, so he lost a spot in the hero course. He got into general studies, though, and that’s all he could have hoped for. His quirk is extraordinarily powerful, but, given the format of the practical exam, his ability didn’t help him out. 

Down in the arena, Shinsou comments to Izuku about how it must be nice to have everything handed to him. He then commands Izuku to turn around and walk out of the ring. Izuku ends up doing so, and Present Mic comments on Izuku following orders like a good little boy - which means that the crowds (or at least the announcer booth) has to be able to hear what’s being said?

Uhm. (Looks at later matches) Either they have selective hearing, or the mics must have been destroyed during the Izuku-Shouto match before they could give away anything incriminating.

Anywho. We finally get info on Shinsou’s quirk, Brainwashing! Which is absolutely not what his quirk does, it’s more like puppeteering or hypnosis, where brainwashing is a longer-term conditioning process. Shinsou’s quirk, according to the narration here, makes anyone who verbally responds to him instantly brainwashed, and will do whatever he commands. However, the quirk won’t work if he doesn’t will it. 

Huh, so I suppose that means written or signed responses don’t work, then. I’ve seen that in a fic or two. Though that then leads to the question about making noises that aren’t outright responses, like groaning or scoffs or whatever… eh, battle now, quirk thoughts later.

Up in the booth, Aizawa thinks about how, from the result of the strength tests, Izuku really shouldn’t have been placed in the hero course either. But Shinsou’s stats are even worse in any event where he couldn’t make use of his quirk. Izuku would come out on top in an ordinary battle, but now that he’s brainwashed, it’s a different story. This will be over quick…

Meanwhile, Toshinori is panicking over seeing Izuku about to walk out of the ring, a litany of ‘no’ escaping him as he mentally begs fo Izuku to stop walking. Izuku is also stressing out over his body not listening to him, as well as how fuzzy his head is. He’s trying to get himself to stop, and swearing when it’s not working. He’s especially mad at himself because Ojiro had even warned him about this ahead of time -

And as if to highlight this, we shift into a flashback where Izuku and Ojiro are talking. Izuku wonders how he can win against mind-control quirk. Ojiro replies that his loss could be Izuku’s gain. His memories cut out from the instant he replied to Shinsou, which is what he thinks is the trick.

Izuku is stressed out as he summarizes that it’s all over if he slips up and says anything to Shinsou. Ojiro disagrees, saying that it doesn’t seem like such an almighty ability. Remember how he said he didn’t remember anything until the end? When Shinsou had them run past to nab Tetsutetsu’s headband, he thinks he must have bumped into Tetsu’s formation - which was when he snapped out of it. He was suddenly aware of what was happening.

Izuku guesses that it had been undone by the physical contact, which Ojiro agrees with. That said, however, he has no idea how strong the contact needs to be. And in a one-on-one match, of course you can’t expect any outside help. (Cough) Anyways, that’s everything Ojiro can tell him. Izuku replies that no, it’s awesome, thanks! Ojiro asks for forgiveness if he’s out of line, but he wants Izuku to win this for him.

With that, we ome back to the present, Izuku getting awfully close to the line and his ringing himself out. Izuku thinks how it can’t end like this, over in a flash. Everyone’s done so much for him - he can’t lose here. 

And something responds.

Eight pairs of eyes watch from shadowy faces, almost everything about the specters nondescript. Izuku has no idea what’s happening, even as they seem to linger at the fringes of his mind. One For All starts to flow under the skin of his left arm, with Izuku quickly realizing he can move his fingers, even just a twitch. Shinsou, ignorant of this, starts to talk about how Izuku wouldn’t think so, but Shinsou’s quirk is like a dream. Oh, right, and Izuku loses. 

Izuku’s response?

He’s not out of it yet. Izuku heaves like he’s just breached the surface of a lake, his feet stopping right on the inside edge of the line. He then turns to stare at Shinsou in a very concerning way as Present Mic wonders at Izuku managing to stop. 

You know, I have this particular face saved in my folder under ‘boss music starts playing’ AND ‘boss music intensifies’. I feel like that’s pretty appropriate.

Izuku’s fingers throb in pain, and apparently the cameras are able to zoom in enough for Aizawa to see it and realize what happened - Izuku smashed it up to shake off the brainwashing. Ojiro is in nervous awe at Izuku going that far. Shinsou himself is unnerved, asking how he did it, that he shouldn’t have control. 

And here’s where we get to some interesting internal monologue from Izuku that I don’t think made it into the anime. 

Izuku slaps a hand over his mouth to keep himself from replying, thinking about how the finger was all him, but something woke him up. What was that? Who were all those people in his mind? For that one second, his head was clear!

One For All, All Might had told him. It’s passed down like the Olympic torch. Izuku recalls those words, and wonders if those were people, and if that was a sign that he’s linked by this power to the past. Did they save him? Is that even possible? Izuku tries to shake it off, knowing that just thinking about it won’t give him any answers, and to save it for later. He needs to think about now.

[I will have thoughts about One For All at the end of this, but for now, let’s finish up the battle.]

Shinsou is pissed, thinking about how Izuku’s not answering him, wondering if he figured it out. But no, he probably knew from the start, that that ‘damn monkey’ told him. He just has to get him to open his mouth again. He mocks Izuku for having nothing to say for himself, but Izuku manages to press his lips together and say nothing as he shifts into a fighting stance. 

Shinsou presses on, stating how he’s jealous, and how just moving that finger must mean Izuku’s the real deal. Thanks to his quirk’s nature, he couldn’t enter the golder gates. Izuku wouldn’t get that, since he’s naturally blessed. You people, born with your awesome quirks, getting to follow all of your dreams!

Izuku sweats as he pushes himself forward, internally noting that that’s how he used to think too. He does get it. But… right. He is blessed. He’s blessed by the people in his life! And that’s exactly why - that’s why he’s not going to lose!

Izuku throws himself forward, one hand grabbing Shinsou’s shoulder while the other slams itself into his stomach. Shinsou retaliates with a cross punch into Izuku’s face, demanding he say something. However, Izuku only turns back to stare at Shinsou, determination burning in his eyes as he begins shoving Shinsou back. Shinsou says that pushing him out isn’t gonna happen, right before he yanks himself out of the grip and doges around. Shinsou says he’ll give Izuku that honor instead as he smacks a hand into Izuku’s face and pushes him back. 

(Also, interrupting the flow here, but Izuku is making noise without Shinsou able to take control, so it really does seem like it has to be a response and not just noise. Which makes sense!)

Izuku grabs Shinsou’s wrist and his shirt, and with one mighty heave, manages an over-the-shoulder throw that firmly slams Shinsou back-first into the ground - and just over the line.

I’m pretty sure this is the same move Izuku pulled on Katsuki during the Battle Trial, actually - at least, from that momentary reaction shot we get from Katsuki. 

Midnight calls the match. Shinsou is gritting his teeth, and Izuku is straightening himself out as Midnight confirms that Izuku is moving on to the second round. 

And with that, the chapter comes to a close. What a match. And now that I’m not breaking the flow, it’s time to go back to the ghost stuff and ramble on it a bit more.

Alright, so. One For All. First time we’re seeing the ‘haunted’ aspect of it - and honestly, it’s not far out of line with what we end up seeing it capable of later on. It comes off as a physical quirk, but One For All as a stockpile holds everything from the past holders - strength, quirks, memories, personalities. And because of that overwhelmingly spiritual lean to the stockpile, One For All is, in many ways, as much a mental quirk as Shinsou’s, if not more so. Arguably, it could count as the most mental quirk, and that ties back into something All Might mentions at the end of the Hosu arc - that One For All can’t be taken unwillingly. 

I’ve seen criticism of this fight’s handling, and how One For All shouldn’t have been able to (or interested in) stopping Shinsou from taking the win. But it’s really not about Shinsou’s quirk itself - it’s about the mental control! The helplessness, the desperation from not one, but two living holders to overcome this and retake control from the person commandeering them.

One For All’s existence, it’s purpose, is to resist being taken by All For One. It is the collective will of nine people, all with a deep-seated will to resist control. So why wouldn’t One For All step in here, when Izuku needs to learn to fight against mental puppeteering? When the still-hazy spirits of the quirk must already have the sinking feeling that All For One isn’t as dead as hoped?

Can it really be a surprise that they stepped in?

I’ll probably make a longer post digging more into this after Kamino, but yeah. Honestly, this fight is a LOT more interesting in the manga than I recall from the anime, since we get a bit more of Izuku’s thought process and what’s happening with OFA. 

To close us out, here’s some discord commentary on the match:

[lil-pine-mha-drabbles]

Can u please write a Shoto fanfic (or could be for multiple characters) inspired by Murders by Miracle Musical? 😭😭😭 The line "all for nothing at all" hits very VERY hard for me. Can u make it as angst as possible too?

Todoroki Shoto x Murderer Reader

I listened to that song a bunch and still my brain didn’t process all of the story in that song, I hope that you will still enjoy this. I did work hard and I think I did ok, but I put my own spin on it.

TW: A LOT of blood, a few swear words, and heavy(ish) angst.

I got too into the storyline I forgot all the actual angst I was supposed to put in.

Here are some people that inspire me, @alpha-bnha-boys and @random-mha-thoughts

There are 2567 words to read below the line!

————————————

Were the woods always this scary?

The leaves rustled and the wind whistled as it sifted through the dark branches. It would have been a peaceful day if it weren’t for the darkness that had been put over the woods. You looked up through the cracks in the leaves to see that the sky was beginning to darken as well. You picked up your axe and wiped of the blood of the animal laying dead on the ground, the blood pooling around your feet. The smell was enticingly sweet, the scent of blood always fascinated you. As you grew older you figured out your favorite type of blood was human, there was something about the fact that there was no fur to get matted when the liquid gushed out leaving you in excitement to see the beautiful color on the white or chocolate skin.

You may be a murderer but you didn’t discriminate. You hoped desperately to find another human in these woods to harvest but you would wait and kill others patiently. The hunt is what you enjoyed; the feeling of raw adrenaline as you ran after your prey.

You had a quirk, and that quirk was a shifting quirk. You could change into any animal; real or fantasy that you could think of, but... whatever you choose you keep the appetite and diet of that chosen creature for a week.

If say, you wanted to be a horse, you would eat grass for a week, even after shifting back, if you wanted to be a dragon, you would be eating meat and spewing fire all week.

But, if you shifted into a herbivore then into a carnivore, you would not only be eating meat AND plants, you would have double the hunger for blood. To most people that would horrify them, but since you drank blood like apple juice, you had no problem going on a killing spree to sedate your desire.

You picked up the blood in the buckets you brought and rang out the already mangled body over the container. Finally you grabbed your shovel and dug by a dried tree. Soil that has a calcium deficiency ate up bodies quickly. If you buried and animal under a tree, the roots would wrap around the white bones in haste to receive their needed vitamin.

After the burial was complete you picked up the two buckets and walked to your cabin.

Now, these woods were special. There was a fountain of mirrors which showed your true inner self but only few have seen it. Those who have are trapped in the woods forever to guard the fountain from others who wish to see themselves.

You sniffed the air and quietly put down your buckets when you smelled it. Fresh prey.

Someone was in the woods whether they’re lost or they’re looking for the fountain, you don’t care, you’ll drink them up either way and leave their bones to the trees of the forest.

You turned into a bunny and jumped over boulders and bushes to reach the heavenly smell. It was sweeter then any human you have ever smelled, but it was surrounded by two other people. Well, you could eat two and save the sweetest for later, like a dessert.

There was a girl and two boys walking with picnic baskets through your woods. The girl was wearing bright pink, easy to spot. One boy had green hair that just made you want to rip out and watch the blood fall from the open scalp.

The last was the sweetest one. His hair was red and white, he would be easy to track down. If he ran you could sniff him out, or look through the darkness for his bright self.

The girl would be easiest to lure, you thought. She would like to chase the cute little bunny, but would ultimately get eaten by the big bad wolf.

You hopped out in front of the girl and her eyes went wide as she squealed to the boys next her how cute you were.

“Hoe, I am gorgeous, not cute.” You thought to yourself bitterly.

You hopped a little father away and the white and red haired boy tried to stop her.

“Uraraka, it’s dangerous in these woods, I wouldn’t recommend chasing the bunny.” He looked through you like he knew everything about you and you shook with anticipation.

Oh, this would be fun.

“Look, it’s cold. It’s shaking so much... please, I gotta help it.” You rolled your eyes and hopped away looking like you were limping. Your sweetest prey just sighed and waved her off like he knew she would be killed by you. The girl smiled and ran after you while the boys waited on the path for her.

When you lead her far enough that the boys wouldn’t see your smallest dragon form, you changed rapidly, stretching over her, your head curled around to the other side so she couldn’t run. You let her scream and then bit.

The blood squelched in your mouth as the neck snapped and your eyes rolled back at how good the flavor was. You sucked and sucked until she was nothing but a dried carcass on the floor.

You flew to the trees in your terrifying black creature form. “The Black Chaos.” The only way to describe this form is it looks like the chupacabra. Black fur that looked like porcupine quills, tail covered in spikes, claws as thin and as sharp as the sharpest knife, and wings that could cut through the thickest tree trunks in your way.

The two boys ran as fast as they could to where they heard the scream only for the green one to start bawling about his love, and your sweet, sweet prey looked around to assess the situation. He looked at all the trees till he locked eyes with you. His left side covered it self in flames and his right put a field of ice around his now screaming friend. You smiled at him, teeth glistening with the blood of the girl. Your eyes stayed on him as you flew up and over the trees.

He breathed a small sigh of relief, thinking you had left until he heard his ice shatter and you fly out, holding his last friend’s neck between your teeth. He was paralyzed with fear while sucked all of the blood from his friend while you locked eyes.

He couldn’t maintain eye contact much longer and turned to the side to throw up. You changed your form into your human body and watched from a distance curiously. Why did he feel sick? You were only eating a meal. Did he dislike you?

You had never felt this feeling before. It was one of dread and confusion, maybe, guilt. You watched him spill his guts for a bit more before he wiped his mouth and looked at you sitting on the ground, legs crossed, head tilted like a confused child.

“Why do you come to my woods, red one?” You asked.

“Why did you eat my friends?!”

“I was just having dinner, what’s the big deal? I’d rather have meals then friends.” You stated to him plainly.

He looked at you funny.

“I’m not afraid of death. When will you kill me?”

“Rather bold of you to think I was going to eat my dessert on a full stomach.” You looked at your black claw-like nails in thought.

“Dessert?”

“Dessert, your starting to get on my nerves. I might just keep you as punishment.”

“Is this some kind of sick twisted flirting?!” Tears streamed down his face, his eyes puffy red, and the darkness around him made you almost purr he looked so gorgeous.

“Is it working?” This time you did purr, your words surprised the boy as he flopped down onto the floor in defeat. “Well?” You asked again.

“Maybe you should have come up like a normal person and asked me on a date instead of EATING MY FRIENDS!?”

“I can see why you’re mad, but what is ‘date’?”

“A date, like where you take someone you might want to marry out to dinner or something.”

“Like a courtship then?”

“How old are you?” He asked curiosity lacing his voice as you purred because of the lovely sound.

“I was born in 1823. Lovely time I must admit, until they tried to burn me at the stake because I was the only person with a quirk.” You rolled your eyes then smile suddenly at the boy in front of you.

“How,” he coughed, “how old were you when you were killed?”

“Oh dear me, no, I wasn’t killed! I escaped into these woods, of course!!” Your smile must’ve grown larger because he looked like he became more uncomfortable. “Sorry, I smile too much.”

“No, you don’t smile too much, I just became uncomfortable because I’m sitting right next to my best friends’ corpses. No biggie.” He said with what you believed was sarcasm.

“I remember the first time I sat next to my best friend’s dead corpse, my father killed her when he found us kissing behind the barn! He wasn’t pleased that his daughter was becoming a ‘whore’. But! I showed him, after years of abuse from that bastard, I sucked his brains right out of his empty eye sockets! Good times, good times!” You laughed bitterly. “You probably think I’m some freak right? A girl can’t like girls and guys, it’s immoral.”

“Well, that’s not why I find you a freak, but you’re fine. It’s called being a bisexual. It’s not super new but it’s definitely more widely excepted now days.” He smiled at you slightly which made you smile a bit.

You two talked through the night like that. He explained that his father was emotionally and physically abusing him, and he had problems with showing emotion because of it. He wasn’t exactly “okay” with you killing his friends but he seemed more excepting then anyone you could think of.

You’d been with Shoto for months now. He was forever forced to stay in the woods. (With you not letting him leave only to go back to his father, it could be quite difficult.)

You talked about everything and anything, he taught you how to cook meat and how to prepare a meal without drinking blood. You stayed in your human form for the rest of the time he was with you and the only animals you were ever allowed to transform into were herbivores, which made sense. You hadn’t eaten raw meat in months and you thought you were doing better.

You thought.

You warned him. “Full moon is coming, stay in the cabin when I’m out, don’t leave. I won’t be able to control myself.” You told him, over, and over, and OVER. He didn’t LISTEN.

You were out in your most dangerous form, the Black Chaos. Wings spread out you hunted without being able to stop yourself. This was the only time of year you physically couldn’t restrain yourself from hurting others, and killing, and hunting.

Over the past hundreds of years that you’ve roamed these woods, this was the only time you were scared of yourself. You hated the way you couldn’t control yourself when you smell the slightest bit of sweet blood.

You had hunted ninety-nine beasts in the forest, bears, wolves, bunnies, foxes, dogs, dear, frogs, if they had meat on them, they were dead. Every time you hunt like this you count how many you kill.

It’s always a hundred. Exactly.

The moon was falling fast and you felt yourself slowly come back but something wasn’t right, you had seen a few animals pass you but you had no intention of killing them, yet you only had ninety-nine.

What was your body waiting for?

You looked out towards where the sun was rising and felt yourself stay on edge. Whatever was happening, Black Chaos still held the rains of your body.

That’s when it hit. The sweetest scent, Shoto.

He must’ve left the cabin looking for you now that the sun had risen, you wanted to call out to him, scream, “run!!! Stay away!!” But no words left your mouth as your body surged forward, bounding on all fours, not even utilizing your wings.

You saw the head of red and white hair in the distance and you finally let out and agonizing scream. “RUN!!!” That was all you could say before your eyes turned red and he turned and ran.

The chase was on.

You could hear his breathy huffs as he ran you could hear the leaves crunch under his feet, his sobs that wracked his body as his tears fell. He was terrified, of YOU.

You were screaming and crying and trying to stop this mess but the thing inside you wouldn’t stop seeking blood, his blood.

Finally after twenty minutes of running and crying on both parts, he tripped and you loomed over him, your long black tongue lolled out and touched his face, caressing it sweetly, wiping his tears as his chest rose and fell rapidly. Not only from all of the running, but also the fear of you.

He always said he wasn’t afraid of death but after looking into your eyes, your eyes that held death, he realized something. He was afraid, but he was in love with death. He loved you. YOU. The one who comforted him and joked with him and learned how to be human from him.

“I love you!” He yelled out as your long tentacle tongue wrapped around his neck, your teeth inches away from biting down.

“I love you so much it aches! I want to live with you forever! I want to teach you to be human and hug you when you’re sad!” He cried and cried and watched as your own tears fell for your eyes.

Then you bit down.

You screamed in agonizing pain as your only love was ripped from you by yourself. You did this. Your human form came back to you and you slammed you fists on Shoto’s chest.

“I love you so fucking much!”

“I’m so sorry!!! I’m so sorry!! I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry... I’m so—“ your laid your head on his chest and cried and cried and cried.

Shoto’s hands moved to your face and wiped your tears.

“I love you too. You’re wonderful.”

You hugged him tightly crying harder in relief. How was he alive?

“It’s cliché to say that your love woke me up, but look at where we are.”

You look around and a smile made it’s way to your face. You were in the Fountain of Mirrors. The water had already healed Shoto’s neck.

He had tripped into the shallow pool when you were chasing him and you were too worried about him to see that you were surrounded by the water.

“You’re a guardian now. Of the woods, I mean.” You laughed threw your sobs.

“I know. And I will be forever.”

And so, you and Shoto live in the forest of Murder for the rest of the days of the earth. You looked into the mirror to see yourself a beautiful swan, you were no longer Black Chaos, you were White Savior, helping all people away from the fountain instead of gobbling them up.

The End.

[sickficsforthesoul]

I’ve got a nice little prompt for you! (Actually two but I’ll put them in two separate asks).

This one is a character who may be out of your comfort zone but how about a sick Kuroo who has been sick for a while with what he thinks is something pretty mild so he takes a few days off but even though he’s not getting better he feels guilty about missing so much practice since he’s captain.

But then things go downhill and he gets a lot worse really fast.

Excited to see the things that come out of this blog!!

-Lu

Here's a surprise fic for you. I'm moving into my college dorm Sunday, so I'm writing as much as I can before then to make up for that and not posting much this week.

I hope I did Kuroo justice in this, so enjoy!

Captain Cat's Conundrum

Sick Kuroo and caretakers Kai and Yaku with a bit of Kenma for good measure

Word count: 2185 words

Tetsurou had a cold. He was curled up under heavy blankets in his bed, coughing, shivering, and aching for the past three days. Tetsurou had already missed the past three days of school and practice because his mother insisted that he rest and recover at home. Tetsurou knew she was right, and he also knew that going to school would spread his germs to other students. Still, he couldn’t help but feel guilty over missing so much practice. Yaku and Kai had brought his schoolwork along with updating him on the team’s progress, but Tetsurou wasn’t satisfied. He was the team captain! He should be at practice with his team, not sitting in bed with a little cold.

So Tetsurou had snuck out the next morning, creeping out of the house with his school supplies and volleyball bag before his mother came to check on him. His mother would kill him when he got home, but Tetsurou would deal with that later. Tetsurou jogged to school to avoid being late for morning practice. He stopped at the gym doors to catch his breath, coughing lightly to clear mucus from his throat. Once his throat was cleared, Tetsurou entered the gym with his usual grin.

“Hey guys,” Tetsurou called to his teammates.

“Kuroo!” Lev and Shibayama shouted happily.

“Took you long enough, Roosterhead,” Yaku teased while walking over to Tetsurou. “Any longer, and I was going to make myself captain instead.”

“Liberoes can’t be captains, Yaku,” Kai chided from the bench. “How are you, Kuroo? Are you feeling better?”

“Definitely,” Tetsurou grinned, “my mom was just overreacting. You know how she is.”

“That’s true,” Kenma said quietly from behind Tetsurou.

“Gah!” Tetsurou jumped at his best friend’s sudden appearance. “Don’t do that to me, Kenma,” Tetsurou coughed. “I’m an old man. My heart can only take so much shock, you know!”

“You’re not that old,” Kenma muttered as he pushed past Tetsurou to enter the gym.

Kai looked at Tetsurou with concern. “Are you sure you’re okay? That cough didn’t sound good.”

“I’m fine,” Tetsurou reassured his friend. “The cough will go away on its own. Haven’t you ever had a cough after you had a cold for a while?”

“I suppose I have,” Kai said, but his face was still doubtful. “You’ll tell us if you start feeling sick, won’t you?”

“Of course I will. I’m not that dumb,” Tetsurou scoffed.

“I sure hope you’re not,” Yaku eyed Tetsurou suspiciously. “If you don’t tell us, I’ll kick your ass for lying to us.”

“So violent, Yakkun!” Tetsurou sighed dramatically. “This is why you’re the demon senpai. Even the devil himself is scared of you.”

Yaku launched himself at Tetsurou with a shriek of fury. Tetsurou laughed and dodged Yaku’s attack, but the libero didn’t give up, opting to chase Tetsurou around the gym instead. Kai awkwardly watched the duo for a few minutes before joining in the chase too to catch the troublesome third years (“Wait, guys! We have practice right now. You can’t just goof off the entire time! You’re setting a bad example for the others!”).

Tetsurou made it through morning practice and the first half of the day with no issue, but by lunch, certain problems were beginning to emerge. The first was Tetsurou’s ever-growing headache. It pounded in his temples throughout lunch, distracting him from his friends and food. The second was his cough. It was stronger than that morning, and Tetsurou was struggling to hide his coughing fits from the watchful eyes of Kai and Yaku. The final problem was the terribly uncomfortable combination of chills and aches wracking his body. Tetsurou’s muscles ached as his body shivered despite the fairly warm air around him.

Tetsurou stumbled through his afternoon classes, feigning attention to hide how sick he was feeling. Thankfully, Yaku and Kai weren’t in his afternoon classes to witness Tetsurou’s pitiful acting because Tetsurou was sure they would have dragged him home on the spot. But Tetsurou can’t let that happen. He has practice after school, and he was determined to make up for all that he’d missed in the past few days.

When classes finally end, Tetsurou walked leisurely to the gym for practice. He somehow was the first to arrive, so he began an easy warm-up. By the time he was finished, everyone else was in the gym warming up too. Tetsurou also felt slightly better, the ache in his muscles dulled by the adrenaline now in his system. The cough and headache still proved to be a problem, but Tetsurou had become much better at ignoring the headache and swallowing back coughs before they could escape. Even so, Yaku and Kai stared at him for a minute, both his friends suspicious of Tetsurou’s health. They only stopped when Coach Naoi fussed at them to warm up instead of standing around.

The rest of practice followed a similar pattern. No matter what Tetsurou was doing, Kai and Yaku were never far away, always watching for any cracks in their captain’s façade of good health. By the end of practice, Kai and Yaku were starting to think that they might have overreacted at morning practice. Tetsurou looked mostly fine all practice. Maybe his cheeks were a little flushed or his breathing a bit heavy, but that could easily be attributed to the amount of exercise he was doing.

Coach Nekomata was unusually spartan with his training throughout practice. So far, the team had done sprints, flying falls, receiving drills, and blocking drills all in the span of an hour and a half, so most of the team looked just as disheveled as Tetsurou by the end of practice. Coach Nekomata dismissed them a few minutes ago, but the third years and Kenma remained in the gym with the coaches. The third years were supposed to help clean up, and Kenma stayed because he always walked home with Tetsurou.

With everyone else gone, the coaches went to Nekomata’s office to get their things while the third years cleaned. Kai and Yaku got to work immediately, but Tetsurou lagged behind his friends. The adrenaline in his system was fading, and the aches and chills returned with a vengeance as Tetsurou’s head continued to throb. His lungs twinged uncomfortably, a cough building in his throat. Tetsurou tried to stifle it, but his body was done obeying him. Instead, a loud hacking cough escaped Tetsurou’s throat and echoed through the mostly empty gym.

Kai and Yaku whipped around to face their captain, shocked by the nasty cough, but Tetsurou wasn’t done. His abused lungs were tired of holding back, and his body spasmed with pain. Another cough tore out of Tetsurou’s throat, and then another. Coughs wracked Tetsurou’s shivering frame, and the boy fell to his knees as the coughing fit deprived his lungs of much-needed oxygen. Tetsurou’s head spun, his eyes foggy and unable to focus on anything.

Coughs continued to come. Tetsurou’s body was screaming for oxygen, but his lungs couldn’t calm down enough to let any air through. Tetsurou wheezed miserably, body shaking with strain and exhaustion. What the hell was happening? Tetsurou was fine that morning (well, maybe not that fine, but not this bad either), so how did he deteriorate so quickly? Tetsurou’s racing thoughts did nothing to ease the headache, and Tetsurou was sure that if he didn’t stop coughing soon, he might end up passed out on the gym floor.

Someone rubbed his back. Tetsurou lifted his heavy head to see Yaku carefully but firmly rubbing his back. The pressure helped Tetsurou focus and relax, causing his breathing speed to decrease and his coughs to lessen. Another hand came to rest on Tetsurou’s forehead (Kai’s, Tetsurou assumed), most likely taking his temperature. Tetsurou also saw Kenma walking toward him, holding Tetsurou’s water bottle. Kenma offered him the bottle, and Tetsurou took a small sip, hands still shaky and unsure. After a few sips, Yaku and Kai manhandled Tetsurou until he was sitting on his backside instead of his knees. Yaku and Kai looked at him sternly, and Tetsurou knew he was in very big trouble.

Surprisingly, Kai was the first one to speak. “Kuroo, why didn’t you tell us you weren’t feeling well?”

“I was feeling b-better during practice, so I d-didn’t think it was t-that bad,” Tetsurou muttered, his words broken up by coughs.

Yaku raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Really, Roosterhead? That’s the best excuse you can come up with?”

“...Yes…?” Tetsurou said, though it sounded more like a question than an answer, even to his own ears.

“...You can tell us, Kuroo. We’re still your friends, even when you’re acting stupid.” Kenma leveled Tetsurou with a flat but stern gaze, and Tetsurou knew he had no choice but to explain.

“I feel bad, okay?!” Tetsurou snapped. “I’ve already missed three days of practice for a stupid cold, and I can’t miss any more practice, or I’ll get behind!”

“You can be such an idiot sometimes, Kuroo,” Yaku sighed, eyes oddly soft. “You’re allowed to miss practice when you’re sick. We know you wouldn’t skip practice, and no one wants your nasty germs in the gym anyway.”

“Yes, Kuroo,” Kai chimed in gently. “Our coaches aren’t so terrible that they’d make you practice while sick.”

“I know that,” Tetsurou sighed, “but it’s different for me. I’ve already missed too much, and I can’t stand missing any more practice!”

Kenma tilted his head lazily. “Why’s it different for you, Kuroo?” Kenma asked calmly.

“Because I’m the captain!” Tetsurou exclaimed, coughing as air caught in his lungs. “I can’t afford to slack off. I have to set a good example. I have to…” Tetsurou was crying at that point, exhaustion amplifying his emotions to an extreme level.

“Kuroo…” Kai whispered as he wrapped a sobbing Tetsurou in a delicate hug. “You are setting a good example. You’re a wonderful captain, and everyone on the team knows it.”

Yaku snuck into the hug too, squeezing Tetsurou with his warm, comforting arms. “Kai’s right, Kuroo. You’re a good captain. You know I’d kick your ass if you weren’t right?”

“Yes,” Tetsurou mumbled through more tears.

“And since I haven’t kicked your ass, do you know what that means?” Yaku pressed as Tetsurou’s sobs become quiet.

“That I’m a good captain?” Tetsurou asked, voice rough from tears and coughs.

“Exactly,” Yaku smiled warmly. “You’re a very good captain, Kuroo, but do you know what else you are?”

“...An idiot?” Tetsurou guessed, reaching up to wipe away any remaining tears.

Yaku chuckled softly. “Got it in one. Now let’s get you home. I don’t think you have a cold anymore. Kai?”

“It seems more like the flu to me. That fever is far too high to be just a cold,” Kai agreed, helping Yaku pull Testurou off the gym floor. “What do you think, Kenma?”

“Flu, probably. His symptoms match pretty well,” Kenma answered, stepping back to give Kai and Yaku room to work. “He could have had a cold earlier and picked up a flu virus on top of that.”

“Man, Kuroo, your luck sucks!” Yaku snickered as he supported Tetsurou. “You’re lucky you didn’t pass out. Coach Naoi would have freaked out if he had to call an ambulance for you.”

“You’re so mean, Yaku,” Tetsurou whined with as much energy as he could muster. “No wonder Lev is so scared of you, you snarky little devil!”

“I’m not little!” Yaku huffed but continued to support Tetsurou to the door.

“You two are too much sometimes,” Kai sighed at their antics. “Kenma, can you show us where Kuroo lives?”

“Yeah. Follow me,” Kenma agreed easily. “Hey Kuroo, you know I’m gonna tell your mom everything, right?”

Tetsurou’s eyes widened in horror. “Kenma, you can’t! She’ll never let me live this down! Please don’t tell her. I’m begging you!”

Kenma giggled at Tetsurou’s uncharacteristic behavior. “But if I don’t tell her, then she’ll fuss at me. I don’t like to be fussed at, Kuroo.”

“I’ll do whatever you want,” Tetsurou begged. “Just don’t tell my mom!”

Kenma’s face twisted into a mirthful smirk. “Okay. We’ll have a Super Smash Bros. tournament as soon as you get better.”

Tetsurou’s face fell instantly. “Smash Bros? But I suck at that game!”

“I know,” Kenma nodded sagely. “Kai, Yaku, you guys can come too if you want.”

“Sounds good, Kenma. Let us know when you pick a date and time,” Kai smiled at the setter. Yaku snickered and nodded in agreement.

Tetsurou groaned inwardly. These people were really his friends, huh? But they were taking him home after he got sick, Tetsurou reasoned. They were also helping him walk, and Tetsurou had no doubt that they wouldn’t leave his house until they had him feed, in bed, and drugged up on flu medicine. They were kind and caring when they wanted to be, and Tetsurou appreciated all they were doing for him right now. Maybe his friends weren’t so bad after all.

(No, scratch that. They were making fun of him for maining Kirby in Smash now. They were definitely assholes.)

[cozycryptidcorner]

The Mad Prince, Chapter 13 (slightly nsfw)

tw: alcohol/drinking, drunken consensual groping.

“What are you doing?” Clementine asks, almost amused.

You’re busy rummaging around all available cabinets in the kitchen, several of them open, plates, glasses, and other kitchenette stuff laid out on the counter. While you’re pretty sure there’s a far better kitchen below your feet, this one appears mostly for aesthetic and midnight snack reasons. You, though, have a very intentional way of searching, fingers nimble as you run your hands over the inner panels, just one.

“I’m bored,” is all you say, as if that’s the only explanation she needs. Unsatisfied with what you’ve found so far, you begin to put everything back, sealing the cabinets firmly on the latch. Jumping down from the upper counter, you continue on your quest on the lower compartments.

Once you resume your rummaging, it doesn’t take you too much longer to find a strangely shaped bottle, glass long and ornately spun around a strange purple liquid. All you have to do is unlock the seal at the top, and the scent of the thin, violet liquid makes your eyes water. You haven’t had a single thing to drink with any kind of percentage since the Starward Matchmakers™ took you into their loving flock, and to say you’ve been itching for a goddamn shot would be an understatement.

“Holy shit,” you half gasp, half wince. Whatever is in the bottle smells like paint stripper, your body is already trying to cough back up the liquor you haven’t even had a chance to drink.

“What are you going to do with that?” The shell slips as a touch of her real personality peeks through, her face scowling before she catches herself.

“Drink it, duh,” you can’t read the label, the large, swooping lettering elegant and filled with opulent promise.

“Is that a good idea?” Clementine prods further, arms on her hips.

“Oh please,” you glance over your shoulder just to make sure no one else is eavesdropping on the conversation, “if I couldn’t keep my mouth shut while drunk, I’d never have a job. Besides, I have a super fun idea.”

“Super fun,” Clem echoes, eyebrows arching.

“Come on, bestie, let’s go find two other players.”

It doesn’t take a lot of time to locate the prince, in his own makeshift office he’s turned one of the rooms into. The desk has a holographic screen hovering just slightly over the slab of dark metal.

He looks at the crystalline bottle in your hand, then back up at you. “Yes?”

“I thought we could have a fun game night.” You say, gently swirling the bottle around and offering it up like a vicious cat bringing its master a dead thing as a gift. “Involving liquor, of course.”

His eyes widen as his brow arches, a quizzical gesture, you’ve come to learn, and you feel his gaze flicker over your shoulder and land on Clementine, who is probably doing her best to appear like she thinks that this idea is the motherfucking best. Then he looks back at you. “And what games are you thinking?”

“Well…” you try to wrack your brain, “I was thinking poker, but I’d be fine with blackjack, diamonds five, lemon lemon…. Or like, old maid. Monopoly, even, if you like.”

The prince blinks. “Most of those are forms of gambling.”

You feel Clementine’s aggressive aura on your back, but you offer up a nonchalant shrug. “I suppose so, but like… we don’t have to play for money or anything. Winner or loser, doesn’t matter.”

There’s a beat of silence, you can see the synapses firing within his brain as he thinks over the suggestion. Then, calmly, he suggests, “I suppose that there are things we can gamble other than money.”

“I like your style!” You shake the bottle, “I was thinking about inebriation.”

”Babe,” Clem says, her voice slightly grated, “fun idea… but no.”

Oh, now it seems like the prince is very much interested, but only on account of Clem’s quick attempt to shut it down. “What do you mean?”

You’re quick to talk over Clem’s continuing protests, “instead of gambling money, the loser of the round takes a shot. Uhhh, but since your body’s like three times bigger, you get to take two.”

“Oh, I get to take two?” He asks, cocking his head with a slightly amused look. And he’s not immediately refusing, either, you knew he wouldn’t, but you supposed he wouldn’t actually consider it so seriously. “Is this something humans do?”

“Yes,” you say, nodding, “for fun.”

“And you would like to play it with me?”

You nod again.

He mulls it over, looking back at a now-silent Clem, and says, “and will you be playing.”

“I suppose,” she says, pursing her lips.

“We were also hoping that Elias would play as well,” you say, almost slyly, “to make it an even four.”

“I will let him know.” He says, completely serious, as though he’s talking about affairs of the state, and not about getting drunk while gambling.

“Okay,” you say, bouncing on the edge of your toes in excitement.

“Okay,” he echoes, as though tasting the word on his tongue.

“See you later, then,” you take a step back, trying really hard not to smile.

“Oh my god,” Clementine mutters as you turn around, quietly enough for only you to hear. “You two are ridiculous.”

“I hear most couples are,” you whisper conspiratorially back at her as the door to the office closes.

“And here’s to thinking you were at your wit’s end just a day ago,” she says, and you can feel the motion of her eyes rolling even though you’re not looking at her. “I can already see you making out with him in your head.”

“Okay but also consider: inebriation makes for honest conversations,” you say, running your fingers along your scalp, “and I plan on having a very calm and collected conversation about things like how many people he thinks are planning to kill me, while you, my dearest and most precious friend in the entire universe, are going to be keeping Elias distracted with your fantastic tits.”

She chokes, scrabbling for words, voice cutting in and out as though her brain is fried. “He does not think my-”

“You may be trained to clock someone’s fighting style twenty klicks away by the way they shake their ass, but I,” you turn around and walk backwards to drink in her glaring face, grinning, “have been teaching myself to recognize carnal lust on sight.”

“Princess,” she says, her voice full of warning, “you’re on thin fucking ice right now.”

“See you later!” You sing, escaping into your room before she sees fit to smack you into the next century.

---------------------------------------------_

“Okay,” you say, shuffling the cards between your fingers, “rules are simple.”

To your right side, the prince, and to the left, Clementine, with Elias sitting across the table. The bottle of liquor is in the center of the table, four shot glasses in front of each person as a grim reminder that you’ll have to drink the moment you lose your hand.

“So the loser of each hand has to drink the shots placed in the betting pool,” you say, cheerfully, “except for Aksanos, who has to take an extra two because his blood alcohol level is more difficult to raise since he’s bigger than my first studio apartment.”

Their first mistake: letting you deal.

“We bet with alcohol shots based on how confident you are with how good your hand is.” You begin to deal out cards, mentally counting to five for each stack. “High card is when you have no matches, two of a kind is when you have two of the same numbers, three of a kind is the same but with three-” etcetera, etcetera. The winner isn’t the important hand, here, it’s the loser. “Folding in this context means that you take the shots you threw into the pot. Any questions?”

“I don’t understand why I have to be here,” Elias says, holding his cards like this is a game of Go Fish.

“I mean any questions in regards to the game rules?” You skip over him, just for the sake of being annoying.

“What does the winner get?” Clementine asks, lounging with one arm swung over the back of her chair. “I think the person who wins first the most should get something.”

“You mean besides an intact liver?” You ask, taking a peek at your cards. Nice, unless everyone has a really fortunate hand, you should be alright this first round. “I don’t know, I’m not exactly in a position to hand anything out.”

All eyes turn to the person with the fattest wallet, and, to his credit, the prince actually looks like he’s pondering the question. “A favor,” he seems to conclude.

“From you?” Clementine asks, sounding suddenly like she’s ready to put her competitive hat on.

“Yes.”

“And what if you’re the winner?” She asks, prodding.

“I suppose that my prize will be peace of mind.” He says, looking at his cards. “Since I won’t have to offer up my services otherwise.”

“Awesome,” you say, reaching over and pouring the potent liquor in every single one of your shot glasses, sliding one into the center of the table. “Let’s begin.”

When you first pitched the game, you thought your only real competition would be Clementine. After all, you’ve seen soldiers like her lay waste to the poker tables before, especially since ceasefires make for bored tacticians with little outlets for their strategies. As predicted, Elias continuously seems to either fold or lose, he doesn’t seem to have much of a grasp for the game in general, nor does he even care to try. The prince, however?

He starts out slowly, cautiously. Like he’s testing his boundaries. He folds once or twice, watching you closely as he throws back his shots of purple liquor. After you’ve leapt into a significant lead, the thrum of hot alcohol from your folds burning through your blood, he seems to take a sharp turn and starts winning, as in, beating you as time eats into the night.

As you shuffle the card stack once almost every hand possible could have played, you observe him closely. He’s staring at your hands, intently, watching the way your thumb flicks one half into the other, head shifting slightly as you twist your wrist to part the deck once more. Almost in an accusation, you don’t look down at your hands as you shuffle, knowing this movement by heart, and then begin tossing everyone their cards.

Elias doesn’t even look at his hand as he folds, face and ears a mottled blue as he nurses a glass of water. Clementine is ‘resting her eyes’ for ‘just a minute,’ head slumped over on the table, her bra hanging from the side of the chair (when did she even take that off?).

The prince has already learned to only look at his cards once, hand over the backs, then gauges you for any sort of reaction as he pushes his filled shot glasses in. Luckily, though, the more you drink, the less your face works, so all you offer up is a resting bitch face that would kill any human man, matching him without hesitation.

You lay your cards out, revealing a four of a kind.

He lays his out, revealing the same hand… but with straight aces.

Four shots. You have to take in four shots.

“Careful,” he says, as though he has no cares in the universe, “I hear alcohol poisoning is a terrible way to go.”

You drink the first, wiping your mouth with your sleeve and refusing to give him the satisfaction of wincing from the burn of the liquor. “I’ve had worse.”

The second shot is harder to drink without making a face, you think your nose twitches despite your attempts not to move.

Your body is sending warning signals to your head as your fingers wrap around the third shot glass, not exactly nauseous yet, but with the knowledge that you definitely will be if you finish what you started.

“I fold,” the prince says just before the liquor hits your lips.

“What?” It takes you a moment to process what he just said.

“I fold,” he repeats, pushing his winning hand to the center and grabbing the remaining shot glass.

“You can’t fold after you’ve played the round,” you say, though your body screams in relief at not having to finish the shots.

“I don’t remember that being in the rules,” he says, “besides, it’s not going to be fun if you’re passed out on the table like your friend here.”

“-’m wrake,” Clementine mumbles, her words so slurred you can barely recognize their meaning.

You wait for a beat, then put the glass down and push it in his direction. “Fine. Here, don’t forget the extra.”

“I would not dare,” he says, amusement in his tone. True to his word, he pours another shot, drinking all three in quick succession.

For a while, you didn’t think he was getting drunk, blaming his more spidery bits for his supposed immunity to alcohol, but the more you stare, the more you notice unusual symptoms in his body. Like the flushed skin around his eyes and nose. Or the way his shoulders slant as he sits. How he’s started to rest his chin on his hand.

Slowly, you begin to shuffle the cards, keeping an eye on how he seems to be watching you with more intensity than before, and you realize something. Oh, oh, for fuck’s sake, you should have noticed it before, but now that he’s drunk, he’s not hiding it so much.

“You’re counting cards,” you accuse.

“And you’re playing with a marked deck,” he responds just as snidely.

You hesitate for just a moment because you hadn’t expected to actually get caught, and then you realize; oh. OH. That’s how he started making a heavy-hitting comeback, he figured out the almost nonsensical pattern on the back of the cards is actually a code.

Fuck.

And then you think further, hands folded like you’re praying. Yes, your mind is clouded with drink, but you’re still capable of weighing the pros and cons of an extremely critical concept. It’s not about the how he figured it out, you decide, but the fact that he quickly adapted, continued playing, and even started winning… without saying anything. He could have demanded a new deck in the face of fairness, but he didn’t.

That’s so…

So…

“Hot,” you say out loud.

“What?” He sounds confused.

“I mean,” you lean back in your chair, clarifying, “if you’re going to continue being so smart and attractive, I’m going to have to have sex with you.”

Elias coughs into his glass, bless him, you forgot he was even there, with his eyes bugging out of his skull. ”Keias,” he almost sounds like he’s begging, “please excuse me for the night, I’m afraid in order to best serve you, I will need to rest and recover.”

“You are dismissed,” the prince says, face a shade of blue you didn’t think he was capable of having.

And oh boy, does Elias leave like the entire goddamn room is on fire, though with the efficiency of an incredibly drunk individual. Even though his first few steps are wobbly, he still manages to flee the thick sexual tension your aura is probably emanating through the air, shooting out the door and disappearing into the ship.

Mercilessly, as soon as the door shuts, you turn back to the large drider at the receiving end of your arousal. To his credit, he seems to be so unused to blatant invitations to use someone’s body like a goddamn carousel that he’s at a loss for words. On the other hand, you have a variety of positions you would like to try out if what the anatomy charts they showed you back at the Starward Matchmakers™ are accurate.

But first… you need to take some measures to dull the oncoming hangover.

“Let’s raid the kitchen,” you say, knowing the sudden change of pace will give him whiplash.

“I’ll call someone to carry her to bed,” the prince says, gesturing to Clem’s body, “someone who isn’t inebriated.”

“Excellent idea,” you say, knowing full well you would drop her halfway through the hallway and somehow end up breaking both your noses in progress.

A servant is ridiculously quick to retrieve her, as though they had been lying in wait just outside the door at the prince’s beck and call, but you find yourself not caring about that creepiness factor in the face of food.

“Shall I call the chef?” He asks as you push through the doors leading into the kitchen.

“Nah,” you say, “they’ll need all the sleep they can get for the breakfast we will collectively want tomorrow. I can cook, I’m not an animal.”

Already, your vision blurs as the last two shots fully hit your system. Even with the glass of water you absolutely chug like a dehydrated lava scrapper, you know it’s going to be a hot minute before you start seeing straight again if you don’t start shoving carbs down your throat. So, quick as you can, you start rifling through the many different cabinets and the three (?!) refrigerators to locate something that your drunk stomach positively craves.

“Normally,” you say, “during my nights out, I go to one of those hover-stands that park out by the clubs and stuff specifically for the drunk hungry people leaving. I don’t know how to describe just how good Abuelita’s Tacos are when it’s three am, and you’re stumbling out of the club, exhausted.”

“And is that something you often do?” He asks, voice slightly slurred.

“It’s a good way to meet people,” you climb up one of the counters, rifling through bags of food with labels you can’t read. “Especially if you’re freelance. You never know who needs to transport cargo if you don’t start asking around.”

“Mmm,” he muses, “and do many pilots tend to frequent bars for customers?”

“Only the ones that aren’t in a guild or privately hired,” you say, hopping down from one counter and heading for the other.

“And you’re not?” He’s wheedling you for information, but you’re comfortable with offering up more than usual.

“Do I strike you as someone who likes being told what to do?” You ask instead of answering. “Oh, my god, the guilds have so many rules. Cut your hair like this, wear these clothes, go to those places, don’t do drugs. Gets old fast when someone is in charge of how you live your life.”

“Hm, we will have to agree on that.” The way his hands are cradling his head is… cute, you think. “Unfortunately, sometimes we don’t have a choice.”

“Yeah I’ve heard that your mom’s a mega-bitch,” you say, surprised that you’ve never outwardly spoken against the queen before.

For a moment, you think you’ve gone too far, but then he laughs. He laughs. And it’s a beautiful laugh, you think, head empty but for the warmth of the sound. Sweet. Gentle. Nothing like the stories of a cruel, maniacal shriek, you have to stand there, speechless, committing that fucking delightful voice to memory.

“What?” He asks when he notices you’re uncharacteristically still.

“You’re cute,” you say, resuming your hunt. Aha, bread! Finally! Your stomach gurgles with joy, and your liver sighs with relief.

“Oh,” you can hear a bashful tone tangled with his words. “Thank you. It’s not every day I am observed to be so.”

“Well, I suppose I’ll just tell you every day from now on.” You find a knife and a slab of plastic you assume is a cutting board, and unwrap the bread from the clear wrapping plastic. Everything in your body screams for protein, so you begin to rummage through the fridge for anything that smells vaguely like it will satiate the craving.

Once you bring a pile of stuff to the counter, the prince says, almost like he’s taking a gamble, “you’re not exactly what I was expecting.”

You start cutting slices of bread. “You mean today? Or just in general.”

“You were such a meek little thing when we first met,” he says, almost dreamily, “I was afraid you would be so easily crushed by my enemies, and so I tried to protect you like a little, delicate flower.” He holds his hands out, as though simulating how he might hold the aforementioned plant.

“But?” You prod, adding a slab of… meat? Maybe. Cheese? Also maybe. It’s a gauntlet of stuff you’re adding to your strange sandwich.

“But, I now see that you’re a manipulative, lying cheat.” Even though those words should make your heart sink, he says them with such fondness you don’t feel an ounce of rejection. “It takes a very smart person to outdo my careful planning, and you’ve done so many times.”

You lick your thumb clean of a spread you found in the door shelf, finding it strangely savory. “And… you like that?”

“Absolutely,” he says with no hesitation. “You challenge me in all the best ways. No one does that, not anymore.”

Trying to come up with a response that doesn’t involve crying on the floor, you slide the finished sandwich in his direction. “Oh.”

“That wasn’t very romantic,” Aksanos seems to realize, eyes snapping back into reality. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to sound so terrible-”

You kiss him. Hard. Without the tentative shyness you had kissed him with before. Oh, no, this kiss is hungry, it’s starving, it’s full of desperation and adoration, laced with heated attraction and stifled desire. It doesn’t take long for you to introduce a tongue to this equation, and even though you don’t think he’s familiar with that concept, he’s a fast learner.

The cold metal of the counter presses up against your ass as you use it for leverage, lifting one of your legs and slinging it over his waist, pulling him closer. His hands come to rest on your hips, gilded claws pressing through your clothes, you can tell that he’s unsure of what your boundaries might be. So you help him out, breaking the kiss long enough for you to find the hem of your shirt and lift it up over your body. Just as quickly, you unclasp your bra, tossing it to the side.

He stares at your breasts like he’s never seen a pair of naked tits before, and you suppose that anatomy differences between your species might be throwing him for a loop.

“Wow,” he says, and immediately looks like he regrets it.

You laugh softly, tracing his jawline with your fingers. “Thanks, I grew them myself.”

And then you’re kissing him again, guiding his hands up to your chest as a way of encouragement. He’s careful and slow, the cool sharpness of his claws ghosting over your skin, lips and fangs so eager to please. There’s a heat building between your thighs, one that the seam of your pants only marginally relieves as you grind up against his waist.

“Give me your hands,” you manage to whisper, breaking away from him long enough to draw breath.

He’s a tad confused but obeys.

“I’m going to show you where to touch me,” you murmur, “but those knives strapped to your fingers need to be off.”

“Good idea,” he breathes in agreement.

You take his dominant hand in both of yours, taking a quick moment to kiss the heel of his palm. Then, carefully, you reach for the piece of clawed jewellery on his index finger, picking at the clasp with your fingernail until it comes loose, pulling it off and setting it to the side. You keep your hands as steady as you drunkenly can, knowing each individual ornament is worth more than what you would make in a year.

Next, pants- you need to get the last barrier between him and you off and gone. Hands shaking, you manage to undo the button just above the zipper, clasping that tiny piece of metal between your fingers-

The door opens to someone who looks like they immediately regret every single life decision that’s led them up to this point. And, in fact, they look like if you and the prince weren’t staring at them at this very moment, they would duck out and act like they never laid witness to this mess.

“A- a thousand and million apologies-” they begin.

“State your business.” Like a switch is flipped back on, he’s a regal and terrifying monarch again.

“It’s first shift for the kitchen staff, my keias, I didn’t- if I had known-”

You look up at the clock, realizing just now how late- or early, really, it is. If you were still on the planet, the prince would be getting up to start his duties soon, so... conceivably? A cook would need that head start for a fancy breakfast.

“Yeah, thanks,” you say, twisting your body to protect your nakedness as you find your shirt. Though, through your panic and drunkenness, you can’t seem to locate your bra. Oh well, the sooner you’re out here, the better. “Sorry we wrecked the place, this should have been a bedroom activity, anyways.”

And then you drag the sole heir of Lolth’s monarchal throne out of the kitchen before he decides to kill that poor cook.

[shadeofazmeinya]

Relatively Unharmed (Rewrite)

Summary: Jeremy gets Gavin home from a deal gone wrong that left a bullet lodged in Gavin's arms and fear of how the other Fakes are going to react. Sure Jeremy's chest hurt from the fight, maybe enough to leave them just barely able to catch their breath, but Gavin is surely what the focus should be on here. To make sure the others aren't going to be mad at this new crewmember they've added in not protecting their own.

Prompt fill: One of the crew is in a bad way healthwise for whatever reason but hides it so no one will worry, but its worse than they thought and the other have to find them passed out and nurse them back to health.

A/N: Rewrite of an older fic to remove a certain character. Also to have nonbinary Jeremy with they/them pronouns because Rimmy Tim is canon, baby! Let me know if there are any parts not edited properly. And as always comments and reblogs are supper appreciated!!!!

Jeremy grits their teeth as they push forward, Gavin’s arm thrown over their shoulder as his feet drag out of the elevator floor. Gavin shakes with a wet cough that chills Jeremy’s heart, blood dripping and spilling. Just a little longer, Jeremy thinks, their own chest tight under their body armor, where growing welts stretched with every shift. Making every step and breath ache, burn. But it doesn’t stop them, as Gavin was drifting in and out, body heavier in their arms. Jeremy punches in the security code of the penthouse door, pushing inside to meet the startled and worried eyes of the other Fakes as they stumble and all but collapse inside.

It wasn’t often that trade deals went south. Especially ones that were supposed to be easy, ones with people they’ve dealt with before. But it happens. This might not be the first time. But it is the first time it was Jeremy’s fault.

They shouldn’t have shot first. They shouldn’t have sparked it all going down. Because of them, Gavin was just barely conscious on his feet, the others catching his broken body as they pass the threshold of safety.

“What the fuck happened?” Geoff’s angry face is on them. Michael and Jack were carrying Gavin away, relieving Jeremy of his weight and it takes everything not to fall down after him. They watch him go as Geoff steps even closer.

Jeremy knows, deep down, the anger is only stemmed in worry and fear at Gavin’s state. It still makes Jeremy flinch back.

“T-They pulled out a gun. I didn’t know what else to do, so I shot them. But there were too many and one of them got Gavin in the shoulder. H-He fell so hard. I got him out of there as fast as I could, I came straight back –“

They’re interrupted by a howl of pain from Gavin as Jack and Michael work together to try to set and disinfect Gavin’s shoulder. Jeremy pales at the sound. Geoff gives them another angry glare before rushing over to Gavin’s side.

Jeremy wants to go to Gavin too, heart wrenching at another scream ripping from his throat. But with the others already working over Gavin, there wasn’t room for Jeremy to go to his side. The rest probably wouldn’t want them to either. Not after they were the reason Gavin was screaming, crying in pain, so much blood dripping down, spilling onto the floor.

Jeremy slowly leaves the room, moving further back into the penthouse, away from the wailing. As the adrenaline drains, as the panic of getting Gavin home, getting him to safety drains, they can start to feel the ache in their chest worsen.

They nearly double over in pain when they reach the bathroom, bending over the counter, clutching their chest. Taking off their armor nearly makes them collapse, hissing and cursing the strains pulling every muscle. There were two bullets stuck in it, one right over their heart. At least Jeremy did one thing right remembering to wear it.

Despite it being off, Jeremy still feels like they can barely breathe, chest on fire with every heaved breath. They glance to the mirror, looking at their now bare chest already molting into purple and black. It looks hideous under the harsh bathroom lighting, the pristine mirror missing none of it. Jeremy tries to feel around their ribs, tries to feel the damage, but all they can do is hiss and wince in pain the second their hand touches sensitive skin.

They start to reach for some painkillers in the medicine cabinet but then stop. There was only one bottle. Only one pill bottle left and Gavin needed it more than them. Gavin was hurt more. Sure Jeremy’s bruised, maybe bones even cracked, but that’s nothing compared to a bullet ripped into one’s shoulder. So Jeremy sighs, dropping their arm away from the painkillers. They grab their shirt to slip it back on, which proves difficult but they manage, sliding back out from the bathroom to see how the others are doing.

Gavin’s unconscious as Jeremy walks back to the living room. His shoulder was wrapped up but everyone still looked worried over him, fussing around him. Jeremy doesn’t blame them, he had lost a lot of blood. They’ll still need to keep a close eye on him even if the wound was closed.

Geoff turns to Jeremy as they come back in, eyes narrowed and it makes Jeremy freeze and their heart sink.

It was their fault Gavin got hurt. It was because of them that they could have lost him. It’s grounds enough for Geoff to want them gone, want to kick them out or worse. Jeremy swallows under his gaze, starting to shake, in fear or pain or both they can’t tell.

But before Geoff could say anything, deliver his sentence, Jack appears, eyes knit in worry as she looks him over. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Jeremy says, the lie slipping past their lips before they can even think to stop himself. Relatively they’re fine, they tell themself. Compared to Gavin, they’re fine.

Jack doesn’t look convinced, not completely, but Jeremy still hides their stiffness, hides their labored breath as they go over to a chair and carefully sit down. “How’s Gavin?” they ask quietly, getting the focus away from them.

Jack sighs. “He’s going to be alright. The bullet didn’t hit anything major. Just barely missed breaking his bones.”

There’s an awful silence after that, as they all glance at Gavin. Watch his chest move up and down, slow. Quiet. “I’m sorry,” Jeremy breathes out.

“What do you mean?” comes Geoff’s gruff voice, piercing eyes to them. Jeremy has to look down, speak to their knees.

“I shot first,” they admit. “I know I wasn’t supposed to. They didn’t even have their guns fully out yet, were only just reaching for them and I… I panicked and shot. I started the shootout.”

“From the sound of it you had plenty of reason to,” Michael speaks up. “If they were going to shoot one of you, better you don’t give them the chance to.”

“I didn’t know for sure they were going to shoot,” Jeremy mutters. “I just saw one of them raising a gun and I shot. We were outnumbered, but I still did it anyway.”

“What happened after that?” Geoff finally speaks, making Jeremy shrink back more, even if Geoff’s tone was even.

“I kept shooting, but one of them hit Gavin in the shoulder. I got as many as I could before dragging Gavin out with me to the car. I’m not sure I got them all…”

Geoff sighs, a sound Jeremy is sure in disappointment. They should’ve tried to not let any survive, but they needed to get out of there. Needed to get Gavin somewhere safe.

The room fills with awful silence. Something strained in it as they watch Gavin breathe, body too pale, so much paler than he should be.

Jack finally moves, hands stained with blood that she goes to wash off. Jeremy can’t look at it. Instead, they sit back against the chair, trying to keep their breathing even, but it’s hard as the pain seems to only be increasing. A rib has to be cracked, there’s no way it hurts this much and it isn’t. Maybe Jeremy should find some bandages later and wrap it up. But they’re not even sure if they can get themself back up off the chair.

The others all start shuffling around, getting some food started and wrapping Gavin up in blankets on the couch. Then Jack comes back, footsteps pounding on the floor as they all see her pulled face.

“Is this your body armor?” Jack snaps, voice sharp but strained. Worried. In her hands she holds up Jeremy’s armor, bullets stuck in it, shining under the living room lights. Jeremy realizes they had just left it on the bathroom floor after changing out of it.

“…yes…” Jeremy mutters in response, hurting too much to shrink back from Jack’s intense gaze.

“What the fuck Jeremy?!” Comes Michael’s shout as he sees the bullets, knowing they would at least cause major bruising, if not worse. “I thought you said you didn’t get hurt!”

“I said I was fine!” Jeremy shouts back but then winces. Screaming was not helping their state.

“You’re not fucking fine!” Michael hisses, storming up to them and lifting their shirt up to see their chest, to expose the horrible bruises to the others. Jeremy tries to bury into the cushions of the chair as they all gasp.

“It looks worse than it is…” they try, but the others can all tell they’re lying, as their voice shakes and body grow paler.

“You’re supposed to tell us when you get hurt!” Michael retorts, dropping his shirt.

“I didn’t want to worry you, Gav needed to be helped first –“

“And exactly how long after Gavin being helped were you going to tell us?” This time Geoff’s sharp voice, again glaring at him.

“I don’t know…” Jeremy mumbles.

“Did you at least take some painkillers while you were in the bathroom?” Jack says as she digs around for more bandages.

“No –“

“What?!” Again Michael’s loud voice cuts through. “Have you gone completely fucking stupid on us? They were right there!”

“Gavin will need them more –“

“We have plenty to spare,” Jack says, pushing Michael aside and sitting besides Jeremy, bandages in hand. “It takes five minutes for us to get more. Michael, grab the idiot something for the pain. I’m going to make sure they didn’t break any of their ribs."

“Did you drive all the way here with your ribs hit like that?” Geoff says as Jack works on getting Jeremy’s shirt off, Jeremy hissing through their teeth.

“Had to get home –“ Jeremy utters, falling back and gritting in pain as Jack starts poking at their chest.

“You should’ve tried to call us to pick you up! It’s a fucking miracle you didn’t break a rib into your lungs!” Michael yells.

Jeremy can’t even retort, just groaning in pain as Jack continues to try to examine their chest and then more for any wounds she needs to wrap.

“Can’t fucking believe you!” Michael continues his rant, as he disappears into the bathroom, voice and stomping feet heard as he continues to his spew of curses. He returns moments later to hold out a pair of pills to Jeremy. Jeremy doesn’t refuse it this time, immediately taking them and swallowing them dry.

“There,” Jack says as she’s done examining them. “We need to get you laying down. And no more moving around. We’ll get the Docs in here later to properly check it out. But for now nothing seems broken.”

“You’re such a fucking idiot,” Michael grumbles, but he leans over and presses a kiss to their forehead, showing the more worried side of the anger.

“Next time, tell us when you’re hurt,” Geoff says, his face softer, eyes less intense.

“I’ll do my best,” Jeremy says, giving a small grin despite the pain.

Geoff sighs, shaking his head, but the small smile return tells enough. And Jeremy knows all is forgiven. “Let’s get you in bed,” Geoff says, pressing a gentle kiss to their cheek. “I think we all need a rest from the excitement of the day.”

“Next person who hides being hurt is getting fucking shot, I swear to God!” Michael says, regaining his rant as Geoff and Jack help Jeremy up.

Jeremy can only just smile, feeling better knowing their family isn’t that angry with them. Knowing their family is going to take care of all of them just fine.

[whump-town]

The Unexplainable

This has been sitting in as a WIP for so long and I’m tired of looking at it so here’s something but it’s not much

Mortch-- and lots of hurt

The first time that Derek Morgan sees it happen is about the third time it’s happened overall. It’s an awful thing to watch happen to someone he loves so dearly but there’s absolutely no warning it’s happening. He’s forced to watch Aaron’s concerned furrowed eyebrows fall and his soft brown eyes roll back into his head. His nose still gushing like a slashed artery and his trembling left hand covered in dark crimson. Derek can’t even hear his own scream but he can feel it claw its way up his throat. He falls to his knees before Aaron, pulling the seizing man onto his side, watching him choke and sputter for three agonizing minutes.

Aaron doesn’t wake up until he’s settled in the hospital. The EKG above his head measuring out his steady heartbeat but his body is so weak it doesn’t even feel attached to him. Morgan’s grip on his hand is vice-like and before he can help it a groan leaves his dry lips and Morgan lets go. His brain can’t form words so all he can do is part his dry lips and whimper softly from the pain. He’s cold and he can’t move his legs and he doesn’t want to be here blanketed in wires and thin scratchy blankets.

“Shh.” Morgan brushes tears from Aaron’s eyes, his lower lip trembling as he forces himself to smile. They release him within the day with specific instructions for Morgan to watch him carefully. Despite the importance, they place on this, despite how scared Morgan is they go home. Aaron’s electroencephalogram comes back normal given the circumstances and with normal brain activity now and with him growing more distressed with being in the hospital each passing hour they decide it’s better he just goes home.

No matter how many blankets Derek pulls around his shoulders, his teeth chatter and there’s a vacancy to Aaron’s eyes he just can’t handle. Derek keeps Jack at a distance, telling the boy Hotch is just sleeping, that he’s just tired. It’s easy to buy, Hotch is always tired, and Jack spends an hour tucked up against his father’s side. Face buried in Aaron’s side until Derek calls him in for dinner and Derek can see the fear, how little Jack truly trusts him. But it’s not him, it’s-- It’s the number of times Jack has been told that particular lie. “Daddy’s fine, Jack. He’s just tired.”

He finds himself with a shadow, Jack not straying too much further than arms reach. He wedges himself between wherever Derek is and someplace else he can see Aaron. Derek reads him his bedtime story and promises that Aaron will be feeling better tomorrow and things will be back together. Even if he doesn’t know if that’s true or if Jack even believes him but he says it because he needs to hear and because he hopes Jack might forgive him for not knowing if that was true.

He comes out of Jack’s room, later than normal. Jack cries himself to sleep and Morgan can’t figure out what he’s supposed to say, how to stop it, and wants to ask Aaron how he does this. He wants to ask him intrusively deep questions in the dark of their bedroom where he won’t see Aaron’s reactions. Instead, he walks into their room and finds Aaron exactly where he left him.

So Morgan crawls into bed beside him, tucking himself against Aaron’s side. Pressing his face into Aaron’s cold collarbone and closing his eyes, his day clothes still on. “Why can’t anything be simple with you?” Derek asks. He falls asleep but it’s light, with no true rest. He wakes with each bump, each caught breath, and every jerk of his muscles.

The next day Aaron has no memory of what happened just that he was standing in the kitchen when his head started to hurt and then nothing, he’s waking up in their bed. The shock of it stings and Derek wishes he could forget.

The doctors can’t pinpoint anything specific. Aaron’s anemic but he’s always a little anemic, it’s never caused seizures before. So, they assume it’s a once and done sort of thing.

The second time saves him the exhaustion of the seizure but Derek will never forget the impact of the ice-cold hole that hits his stomach at the sound of Aaron’s body hitting the ground. He’s in the shower, having just walked away from Derek’s too curious hands trying to worm their way down his pants. They’d separated with a kiss and an aroused shiver down Aaron’s back as Derek got exactly what he wanted, to get him hot and bothered. But Aaron’s self-control is annoyingly strong and they have things to do and Aaron isn’t rearranging their carefully constructed schedule for some fooling around.

Derek rolls over to Aaron’s half of the bed, seeping heavily into the warmth left behind by Aaron’s body. His heated blanket still tangled with their comforter. Aaron can’t go anywhere without that thing and Derek has accepted that if there is a fire his safety comes second to the blanket. He doesn’t understand the damn appeal of his ragged old thing but Aaron’s weird and he accepted, long ago, that there is just no way to fully understand the man.

He’s floating, only half-conscious of the world around him when Aaron falls. It’s loud, he brings bottles of things down with him but more concerning than spilled shampoo is the crack-- the distinctly painful sound of a body hitting the tub’s unforgiving floor. Then silence.

Derek throws the bathroom door open, not giving Aaron’s sacred privacy any thought. Aaron is there, on the cold tub floor sputtering and coughing up blood and water as quickly as it pours from his nose and from the showerhead into his mouth. He’s shaking, eyes dopily blinking in his confusion.

Not minding the harsh spray coming down over them, fortunate to escape the entrapping feeling of soaked clothes against his back, Derek bend over the side. He’s in his boxers, the only clothing he bothers to sleep with. “Aaron.” He cups the back of the other man’s neck, moving him from the direct spray of the water. With a cough, Aaron turns his face into Morgan. Sitting up and turning towards where Morgan doesn’t hesitate to draw him close. “Dammit,” Morgan runs his hand under Aaron’s nose. Trying and failing to wipe his face of the thickly falling blood. “Your nose is bleeding again. Did you get lightheaded? What happened?”

Leaning his head into Morgan’s shoulder, Hotch shrugs. He’s naked and cold and sitting on the floor of the tub. His hip is throbbing and his fingers are tingling painfully from where he hit his elbow coming down. There is the memory of sticking his face into the spray, drawing back, and seeing only the light trails of blood coming off of him. He can’t even remember bringing his hand to the source.

“Ok,” Derek sighs in-defeat. If Aaron knows, Derek can wrangle it out of him later but for right now he just needs to get him out of the tub. Easier said than done but they power through. Derek stopping every time Aaron can’t bite back a grunt of pain, shaking in Derek’s arms as he manages to get his feet underneath him.

“Sit.”

Aaron shakes his head, arms wrapped around his chest as he shivers. He’s shaking so hard he’s jerking, nearly taking himself off his feet. “Can’t,” he rasps, “ ‘m wet.” Derek grabs him by a hip and a shoulder, not pushing more moving his body down anyways. Aaron groans as the sheets get wet, as they stick to his skin. “Gonna have to wash these again,” Aaron mumbles.

Too tired to argue much farther, Aaron leans back into the pillows, closes his eyes. Derek takes his hand after a moment, rubbing his thumb across Aaron’s cold skin.

Derek is blinking quickly to keep his tears from falling. It’s not a matter of shame he just doesn’t want to upset Aaron more than he already is. Aaron knows that he’s upset. “Please don’t cry,” he whispers, rubbing at Morgan’s hand. “I’m okay. I promise.” Aaron tries to be more attentive than he really feels. Sitting up even though it makes him nauseous and watching and talking with Derek as he gets dressed.

Derek still has to go and do what they were planning on doing, he’s just got to do it by himself.

“I’ll bring you ice cream,” Derek promises softly. He lingers just a moment longer, palm on Aaron’s cheek. He moves to speak several times but none of what he needs to say can force its way up. How do you express such tremendous fear in losing someone while communicating the outrage that boils at the base of your sternum at the very thought of the realization that you know they’re lying to protect you? Because he doesn’t have those words anymore. He can’t look at Aaron and feel the pain of fury. He only sees tired smile lines on Aaron’s face and the ache of where those stronger emotions should be is nothing. “Call if you feel anything. Anything, Aaron. I mean it.”

Aaron nods, eyes falling to the comforter. He hates feeling weak and he hates worrying Derek even more.

“Just rest,” Derek sighs, seeing the tension rolling off Aaron in thick waves. They can deal with that later. “Call me and if you don’t--” it takes him a moment to think of a proper threat to issue out. “Well, if you don’t I’m sending the team over to get you. I’m sure you don’t want them to see you in your full glory.”

Aaron narrows his eyes, “you wouldn’t.”

Derek raises an eyebrow, “test me. I dare you.”

“I’ll call.” he promises. 

Derek doesn’t believe him, not for a moment. “Okay.” He knows there has to be more that Aaron isn’t telling him. Though he isn’t sure what it is and if he’s wrong then he’s poking something far more serious. He’s just worried and it’s complicated with Aaron (good God everything with Aaron always is). He loves him though, and for some stupid reason he really loves Aaron’s stubborn ass. Even if right now he wants to kick him.

“Hey, get Jack some more cereal?” 

Morgan pulls a hoodie over his shirt, nodding. “Same thing as last time or is he over the frosted flakes?” 

Hotch shrugs, “I never know. Just get something that looks good.” Either way, Derek will end up eating it too and then they’ll both make fun of his oatmeal but beg him for a piece of the fruit off the top. 

“Okay,” Derek bends down and kisses the top of his head. “Be back in a few hours. Read one of your books, watch a movie, but stay out of paperwork.” Hotch tries to open his mouth but Derek just shakes his head. “I don’t even want to hear it. Please Aaron, just stay in bed. Relax.”

Relax isn’t even in Aaron��s vocabulary. 

“I will.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Derek rolls his eyes. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

[whumpmatsus]

Do they have to be whump related? Also Ichimatsu getting a shot pls

wasn't sure if you wanted a draw or a fic, so I did both!

and yeah, any draw or fic requests you send here should probably be whump-related since this is a whump-focused blog

though if you wanna send any draw or fic/scenario/reaction/etc. requests that AREN'T whump, you can send them to my general Osomatsu-san blog at @kisskissmatsu!

enjoooooy <3

-

-

Usually Ichimatsu is the sextuplet who’s fine being left all by himself.

Being in the hospital without his family, though, is a much different story.

It started innocently enough ― with a persistent cough that was almost certainly the herald of a cold or sore throat on the horizon. As much as he hates being sick, he sort of resigned himself to it. He’s the one among his brothers who’s forever catching what happens to be going around, despite the fact that he doesn’t spend a lot of time around other people. That’s why he started wearing a face mask when he does leave the house.

It was about a week or so of sneezing, coughing, and sniffling his way through various attempts to rest. His throat felt worse than it usually did with a cold, and even more alarming was that his chest felt like it was on fire, especially when he started coughing. Even though he started having trouble breathing, he thought maybe this was just something that would linger for a bit, something that needed more sleep to recover from.

When things didn’t taper off after that, since a week was typically all it took for him to start feeling better, the others started commenting on it.

When Ichimatsu started to spend more time in the bathroom with a sink full of hot water in the hopes that the steam would help him breathe easier, and it didn’t seem to be having any effect, they all got worried.

When Karamatsu blurted out, “I secretly took Ichimatsu’s temperature with a forehead thermometer while he was sleeping and it read 39.4!”, Mom and Dad immediately carted their fourth son off to the hospital.

It figures Shittymatsu would get him into this mess, but Ichimatsu supposes that the sneaky gesture was only out of care, otherwise Karamatsu wouldn’t have spoken up about a number that concerned him.

That doesn’t mean he has to like it. After a distressing, panic-inducing few hours of waiting and a date with the X-ray machine, the doctor diagnosed him with bacterial pneumonia. That particular diagnosis ensured that he had to be admitted into the hospital under quarantine, because as the doctor explained, bacterial pneumonia is extremely contagious and potentially life-threatening, particularly to someone with a fragile immune system like Ichimatsu. They can’t send him home to infect his brothers or the rest of the community, and even though he isn’t technically immuno-compromised, his tendency to get sick easily means that it’s better for him to be here in the hospital in case things suddenly take a bad turn.

Being in here is like he’s trapped in hell and can’t get out. Because he’s in quarantine, he never sees anybody. Which would be fine normally. Feeling so poorly is a significant reason for wanting his family nearby, though… and he can’t have them.

The most they can do is visit outside his room and talk to him through the speaker system. That’s even worse, seeing them all and not being able to have any real contact with him. Right now more than anything, what he wants is a hug from his mom. God, he wants a hug from his brothers.

It’s hard to even get any rest like he’s supposed to be doing. Most of his time is spent sitting up, trying to get a sufficient breath in while he listens to various TV channels. The idol news reminds him of Choromatsu, sports statistics remind him of Jyushimatsu, game shows remind him of Osomatsu, American dramas remind him of Karamatsu, and fashion shows remind him of Totty.

Those are just distractions, because it’s still hard to breathe. He’s struggling for most of his breaths, but too deep a breath will trigger a coughing fit. Which, in turn, makes it more difficult to breathe.

It’s barely been a day since he was admitted and already he wants out of here.

His brothers visit sometime after lunch, and they spend a few hours. Eventually the nurse gently chases them out, telling them that Ichimatsu needs to try to get some rest. Shortly after that she comes into the room, rolling her little cart with the tray on it.

“How do you feel today, Ichimatsu?” she hums, pulling on a pair of gloves. “Any better than when we admitted you?”

He shakes his head and tries to answer when another series of coughs interrupts him. Although it’s hard to cover his mouth when his whole body is aching, he does his best. After all, he doesn’t want to get anyone else sick. He’s already in quarantine, so all the doctors and nurses are taking their own precautions; still, he shouldn’t just give up and spread his germs carelessly. “N-not really.”

She nods and picks up a wrapped packet from the tray. “Well, to be honest, that’s understandable. It hasn’t been very long.” The packet is ripped open, and the distinct smell of alcohol fills the air as she carefully pushes his sleeve up. “The lack of improvement does concern us, though. So I just have to give you an injection of some medicine, okay?”

Shit. He thought that might be what was going on here. He knows he’s too exhausted to fight it, and yet, his brain evidently isn’t too exhausted to not be fucking anxious about it. “I… I have to get a shot?”

The cold wipe is rubbed against the top part of his arm. “Yeahhh… I’m sorry. This is penicillin, and it’s one of our standard treatments for pneumonia. The doctor thinks you’ll have better luck sitting still for one shot than for a whole pill-and-water deal, since you’re coughing a lot. I kind of have to agree, since you might accidentally inhale some water if you cough while trying to take the pills.”

Immediately he starts to panic. Most of the time the idea of a shot doesn’t bother him more than it might the average person ― he gets the yearly flu vaccine without any problems. Right now, however… the idea of a shot while he’s already feeling so terrible, the initial pinch and the ache that might happen afterwards and being alone, it just feels scary.

The nurse must hear the way his breathing starts to quicken, or maybe the way his hands start shaking. She gives his shoulder a little pat. “Ah, I know on your chart it says you suffer from some anxiety. Are you a bit anxious right now?”

“Y… yeah…”

“Okay. That’s totally fine, you know? Different people get anxious about different things. Would it help if I distracted you, or if I gave you a countdown so you know when it’s coming? Sometimes that helps so it’s not a surprise… or, sometimes people prefer it to be a surprise. Which one do you think would be best for you?”

… Oh. He wasn’t expecting something like that. It almost feels like he has a little control over this, despite the fact that he has to get the injection either way. “C… can you… count down?”

“Sure, of course. No problem.” Then she reaches over with one hand, grabbing the syringe with the other. “Would you like to hold my hand?”

That’s kind of… babyish, isn’t it? “I-I’m not a kid… I don’t wanna…”

She chuckles. “Well, you know, earlier today I held the hand of an elderly lady who was getting a shot. It’s not just a kid thing. But if you don’t want to, that’s fine too.”

He takes a moment to consider that, then silently slips his hand into hers.

“Alright, just squeeze if you feel like you need to. I’m all set, are you?”

“I… I think so…”

“Okay, I’m gonna give you the countdown then. Here we go. Three ― two ― one.”

As soon as she says the last number, he feels the needle pierce his skin. It’s uncomfortable, a sharp kind of pinprick pain. There’s a slight feeling of tightness and soreness as the medicine is emptied into his muscle, and a brief jolt when the nurse pulls the needle out.

All in all, even though it isn’t a pleasant experience, it’s not as bad as it could have been. It’s certainly better than choking on a pill and a glass of water if he had to try to swallow the medication.

And, at least, it’s over now.

“There. You did great, Ichimatsu. Probably my best patient of the day!” With that, she sets the syringe back down on the tray and gingerly smooths a bandage with a cotton ball over the injection site. “That should keep you clean just in case any blood trickles out from the shot, and someone will come take it off later if the adhesive starts to make your skin itch.”

He nods and coughs into his arm again, giving a soft groan. He’s just so tired, from the fever, from the coughing, from not being home. “Is it gonna m… khh… make me tired?”

“Haha, it shouldn’t, no. You might feel a little nauseous, or you might have to go to the bathroom more, or you might get a small itchy rash… just press the call button if any of that happens or if you feel strange otherwise, okay?” Her cart is all packed up already, and she’s heading out of the room. “If you get tired, it’s probably because you’re sick and need rest. So, try to sleep as much as you can.”

“’Kay.” He just feels like this illness has drained everything out of him, and there’s a little throbbing where he got the injection. But, the more he sleeps, hopefully the sooner he can recover and go home.

On her way out, the nurse dims the lights. Practically as soon as she does, Ichimatsu’s eyes start to drift closed. God, he’s so tired.

He lies down, though the bed is still a little elevated since sleeping flat will just make him cough more. Sleep tugs at him, and he has to move a little bit so he’s not putting any pressure on the area where he got the shot.

Soon. Soon he can go home.

Just as soon as he gets better.

[bluebellhairpin]

No Regrets

Fantasy AU!Levi Ackerman X Fem!Reader

Part Two - No More 

-

Part Four - No Death 

A/N: Forgive me, I wrote this within four hours and have not edited it so it’s probably not-too great. Read it. - Nemo

Summary: After a meeting with Zeke, Levi confronts his Queen. There he finds out that she is in a lot worse shape than she wants to admit. He takes her health into his own hands. 

Warnings: Blood. Injuries. Many, many broken things. Death threats. Again my bad poetry. 

Listening to: ‘I’LL SHOW YOU’ by K/DA (slowed) - ‘That was the battle but this is the war.’

Series Masterlist 

Masterlist 

‘Blood turns to sweat, use it to repay your debt;’

He did knock. He did. The lack of an answer was what made him open the door without permission. In hindsight, he probably should have waited. 

He shut the door immediately, narrowly avoiding your anger - displayed by the smashing of glass - and watched the dark amber liquid seep under the doorframe. In the dark of night, under the candlelight, the alcohol looked as dark as the blood your hands had spilled. 

After waiting a few more moments, he opened the door again, hearing the glass scrape under the door, and crunch under his feet as he stepped into your room. 

As his eyes adjusted, he took in the messed bed, sheets, duvets and pillows alike thrown aside and ripped to feathery shreds. The giant mirror and divider in the corner were both smashed to pieces, reflective glass shards littering the floor, and the paper punched through. Candlewax was left to harden, the walls had their fair share of the damage too. Among it all was you, facing away from him with a crystal glass cracking under your fingers - a threat to remind him that the bottle wasn’t the only projectile you had on hand. 

Aside from the bright glowing runes on your sword - which was laying discarded against the far wall - and the red light of yours eyes reflecting back at him from the window it was completely dark. 

There was one other light source in the room, however - coming from the original cut Zeke gave you. 

What he had last seen as a so-so injury, was now something that would’ve had anyone else passed out. It was glowing, cracking and flaking at the edges, and deeper than he’d ever seen a cut like that be before. And it had grown. 

The corruption of your sword had taken ahold of you, both hands wrung around your neck and it was not letting go. With every beat of your heart, the cut pulsed light, drawing his attention to how far up your neck it had gone. Nay, not your neck - your face. It drew an ugly red path up your jaw, cheek, and straight through your eye up to your hairline. He didn’t dare think how far down it went, instead only noting how you held at your side - just under your ribcage. 

“Go away.” your voice came out rough, sounding as corrupted as you looked. 

“You need help.” 

“Leave!” You yelled, turning and throwing your glass right at him. He lifted his arm, shielding himself with the guard on his arm. His eyes never left you though, now with a clear view of the damage Zeke inevitably caused. 

In short - it was very, very bad. You were weeping, and he couldn’t tell if it was blood or your actual tears. 

“Do not tell me what you think you know, Little Captain,” you said, “Because I already know it and I will not be told again by the likes of you.” As you spoke more blood seeped out of your injury, leaving your nightshirt to deal with another cascade, making it stick to your skin even more. 

“You need to calm down!”

“I am calm!” The hand on your ‘good’ side whipped around and grabbed him firmly on the throat, pushing him until his back hit a post of your bed. “Your ruling monarch is dying, you should be the one to be told to calm down, yet here you are as serine as a meadow brook.” You were holding him nose-to-nose with yourself, looking down at him with one eye brighter and redder than the other. Despite your shallow breath, chest heavy, and the look of pure murder in your eyes, your hold on his neck wasn’t making him fear for his life. 

He could see in your eyes that he was the last person whose death was what you wanted. You were biting at him, snarling like a dog trapped in a corner with nowhere else to go - and he was daring to bite back at you.

“You were hardly this feeling when you killed our old king.”

“He was nothing but a puppet for Zeke. I’m surprised you hadn’t figured that out yourself.” you spat, “He was destined to ruin this land, and so help the gods you would have sat back and watched.” 

You looked at him for a long while, waiting for his reply, or maybe for your body to pull away. Who was he to tell? However you surely were not the criminal you first were thought to be. Quickly looking back he could see those signs. The things old king Friz did with and for Zeke. Things that he could not see you doing. 

“Let me help you.” 

“I do not need your help.”

“You’re dying!” 

“And if I do then you and many others will rejoice in it!” you said, your fingers flexing against him in anger. “But until then I’ll bide my time. The closer to death I am the more powerful I become.” 

You looked at him, eyes narrowed, and teeth stained red with your own blood.

“Zeke will not be able to stop me if I can hold onto this for long enough.” 

“You won’t be able to do it. I know you won’t.” He said, and then spoke again - quick enough to cut off another of your stubborn remarks. “Your hands are shaking. You can’t look yourself in the mirror anymore - how long do you think that will last before you kill yourself instead of Zeke? Do you really think you’re strong enough to do all that on your own?”

You stepped back, now only resting your hand on his throat.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked. 

Before he could answer you broke into coughs. Wet and nasty ones. You doubled-over, turning away and kneeling on the floor as you pawed at your chest, staining your fingers with the blood on your shirt. 

Levi decided then and there. He would make sure you lived. 

He took his sword from his side, and joined you on the floor. You immediately recoiled at the white light, weakly pushing his shoulder away with the hand that wasn’t at your chest. Instead he took your hand, wrapping your fingers around the hilt, and the sword glowed even brighter. 

Streams like white wisps came from the blade, and Levi had to hold you into his chest to keep you still so they could reach you. They entered your mouth like smoke, and almost as soon as they did your coughing stopped. Followed by your breathing. Then the tears stopped. 

And then, there in his arms, on your floor, surrounded by broken glass, you were lulled into a sleep. 

If someone told Levi he would be watching over you as you slept, he would never have believed them. Not three years ago, not two, and definitely not a few months ago. 

But here you were, laying among fresh sheets, with your fingertips grazing his sword. You were healing and he was making sure you were getting that rest. 

Most of the time he was, anyway - the mess you made in your room could not be ignored, not by him. 

It was after breakfast by the time you woke up, bleary eyed and groaning. You turned over away from him, no longer touching your once source of healing, and rubbed your ‘bad’ eye. Sitting up, you turned back to face him. 

You said nothing.

Shifting again to pull yourself out of bed from the other side. He watched you as you traced along where your injury used to be, fingers only reaching a long scar from your chin that reached under your shirt collar. 

He thought about making a comment about your eye, but snappy comments never got either of you anywhere. Both of you had learnt that after last night. 

“I will kill Zeke.” you said. He shivered. 

You’d never once sounded as soft and caring as you just did - even with such threatening words. He was very unsure how the tone made him feel.

“I will release the iron and unyielding grip he has on his land. His resources. His people. I’ll set them free.” You faced him again, and he was shocked at how human you looked in that moment. 

Levi knew Zeke was a bad man. His hunches and intuition had never once failed him when it came to telling what kind of person someone was. Zeke was one of the few people who left a bad taste in his mouth. He’d never trust Zeke.

You were asking him to trust you. To side with you. To make a choice he would never regret. But you also left a bad taste in his mouth. Unlike with Zeke, however, he was slowly getting addicted. Like the way a bubbling drink would sting your nose before you drank it - he was coming to enjoy the evil that soaked through all your good intentions. 

Looking into your eyes, now more (e/c) than red, those human eyes, he fell then and there. 

You were not just his Queen. 

You were not just someone to obey. 

You were not just a murderer. 

Looking into your eyes, he knew he would do whatever you asked him to - no matter what it was. 

“Will you help me?” 

“Yes.” 

‘Make the golden threat, choose the path you won't regret.’