#it had what is supposed to be a literal window with someone standing before it looking up at it

[joshuamj]

Hero.

[rizzanon]

Babysitter

a damian wayne and batsis! reader oneshot ft. jon kent | m.list

Summary: your brother forces you to take him and his bestfriend along with you to wherever you’re going

You had a plan. A flawless, well-thought-out, foolproof plan.

Step one: Move quietly.

Step two: Avoid creaky floorboards.

Step three: Do not alert Damian Wayne, resident bloodhound.

You had your hand on the doorknob, your shoes were on.

You had one foot out the door. No one in sight. Freedom just within reach—

“Going somewhere?”

Your whole body froze.

Goddamnit it.

You knew that voice.

You closed your eyes, inhaled sharply through your nose, and prayed to whatever higher power was listening that maybe—just maybe—if you ignored him, he’d disappear.

No such luck.

A second voice, softer but just as damning, followed.

“Uh, I told him we should just let you go, but…”

You sighed. Of course.

With a slow turn, you met the unimpressed stare of Damian Wayne, standing in the dim hallway like the world’s smallest, most judgmental security system. His arms were crossed, his expression far too smug for someone who had no business being awake right now. And right beside him, slightly hunched and looking far too apologetic, was Jon Kent.

You stared at them. They stared back.

Finally, you spoke.

“I knew I should’ve left through the window.”

Jon winced. “Sorry. Again, I did say we should just let you go—”

“But he didn’t,” you deadpanned, shooting a look at Damian.

Damian tilted his head, unbothered. “Because you’re sneaking out.”

You scoffed. “I am not sneaking out—”

“You’re leaving without me. That’s the same thing.”

“It is not—”

“Semantics.”

You groaned louder. “Oh my God, I hate you.”

“Likewise,” Damian said flatly.

Jon, still watching this exchange like a confused referee, hesitantly raised a hand. “I feel like I should stop this.

At the exact same time, without missing a beat, you and Damian both turned to him and snapped—

“You stay out of this.”

Jon immediately took a step back, hands up in surrender. “Ah. Alright.”

You dragged a hand down your face, inhaling slowly before fixing your glare on Damian again.

“So,” you said, voice strained, “what do you want, Damian?”

Damian ignored your question. “Where are you going?”

You deadpanned. “Out.”

“Out where?”

“It’s none of your business.”

Wrong answer.

“Tt. Incorrect. It is my business, because you’re taking us with you.”

You blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You heard me.”

“No, yeah, I heard you. I just don’t think I should have.”

Jon stepped in, looking a little apologetic. “Sorry, he kinda roped me into this,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

You gave him a flat look before turning back to Damian. “And why, exactly, would I do that?”

“To accompany you.”

“Why?”

“You require supervision.”

You stared.

“…I require— Damian, I’m older than you.”

“By an unfortunate number of years, yes.”

You inhaled sharply, clenching your fists. “I don’t need supervision, you little gremlin.”

Jon cleared his throat. “To be fair, I think he means he needs supervision.”

You stared. “You require— Damian, you’re forcing me to babysit you?”

“Tt. Babysit is a strong word.”

“That’s literally what’s happening.”

“I prefer guardian escort.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“Yet here we are.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, inhaling deeply before muttering, “Where’s Alfred?”

“Out.”

“Dick?”

“Busy.”

“Tim?”

“Comatose, most likely.”

“Cass?”

“Training.”

“Jason?”

“Wouldn’t care.”

Your eye twitched. “And Dad?”

Damian raised an unimpressed brow.

“…Right,” you muttered.

Jon shot you another apologetic smile. “So, uh… that just leaves you?”

You let your head fall back with a long, suffering groan. “You are not going out with me.”

“And you’re supposed to be grounded.”

“That’s why I’m sneaking out, dipshit.”

There was a brief silence.

Damian let out a long, dramatic sigh, like you were the most exhausting person alive. “You continue to delude yourself if you think you’ll be able to succeed in sneaking out.”

“I hate you.”

Jon cleared his throat. “Um—”

Your expression softened immediately as you turned to him. “Not you, Jon. You’re fine. You’re good. Damian’s the problem.”

Jon blinked. Then, slowly, his lips curled into a tiny, bashful smile, cheeks just a little pink.

“Oh. Uh. Thanks?”

Damian, meanwhile, squinted. “What the hell?”

You ignored him, turning back to Jon. “See? This is how you behave, Damian. Maybe take notes.”

Damian’s scowl deepened. “I am nice.”

You snorted. “To who?”

“To you.” Damian snapped, like it was obvious.

Jon let out a tiny, poorly suppressed laugh.

You shot him a look. “Jon. Don’t encourage him.”

“Sorry,” Jon said, not looking sorry at all.

Damian scoffed. “So where are you even going?”

“Out.”

“Not without us.”

You stared. “No. Absolutely not.”

Damian just blinked.

Jon shuffled a little, fidgeting with the hem of his sweater. “I mean… if you don’t want us to come, that’s okay, I guess…”

And there it was.

The puppy-dog eyes.

You winced.

Damn it.

Jon Kent had mastered the art of looking genuinely dejected, and it was so unfair.

You hesitated. Pressed your lips together. “…It’s not that I don’t want you to come, it’s just—”

“Great,” Damian interrupted. “Then let’s go.”

You groaned. “That’s not what I meant—”

“You’re not exactly convincing me otherwise.”

“I will fight you.”

“I will win.”

Jon coughed. “This feels counterproductive.”

You shot him a betrayed look. “Jon. I thought we were friends.”

Jon rubbed the back of his neck. “I do want to go, though…”

Your eye twitched. You knew he was being genuine. But damn, he was dangerously good at making you feel so mean. You sighed heavily, staring at the ceiling like it held all the answers.

“I hate being the responsible one.”

Damian smirked. “Then be irresponsible and take us with you.”

You snapped your head back down to glare at him. “That’s not how this works, moron.”

Jon stifled a laugh.

Damian just tilted his head, completely unfazed. “Yet here we are.”

You clenched your jaw. Closed your eyes. Took a very deep breath.

Then, begrudgingly—

“Fine.”

Jon brightened. “Really?”

You shot him a look. “Not like I have a choice, apparently.”

Damian’s smirk widened, victorious.

“But there are rules.”

You pushed the door open, already regretting everything. “One: No causing trouble. Two: No running off. Three—” You turned sharply to glare at Damian. “No murder.”

Jon blinked. “That has to be a rule?”

You looked at him, dead serious. “You’d be surprised.”

Damian scoffed. “You act as if I lack self-control.”

“You literally tried to stab a man at the grocery store last week.”

“He cut in line.”

“You pulled out a knife, Damian.”

“And?”

Jon looked as if he was used to this.

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “You are literally going to be the death of me.”

“Unlikely,” Damian deadpanned.

Jon patted your arm sympathetically. “It’s okay. Breathe.”

“I don’t want to breathe.”

“Understandable, but necessary.”

Damian scoffed. “Are you done yet?”

“Oh, I’m done,” you muttered, pushing open the door. “So done.”

And with that, you stepped outside, the two boys following close behind.

This was going to be a long day.

The night air was crisp, Gotham’s usual symphony of distant sirens, honking cars, and murmured conversations blending into the background as you walked down the quiet streets. The dim glow of streetlights cast long shadows across the sidewalk, but your focus was on the two boys trailing beside you.

Jon was practically buzzing with excitement, barely able to keep himself from skipping as he shot off rapid-fire questions.

“So, what were you going to do?”

You hummed. “What do you think I was gonna do?”

Jon tilted his head. “Go fight bad guys?”

You chuckled. “Nope.”

“Scout for intel?”

“Nope.”

“Secret mission?”

“Jon,” you laughed, ruffling his hair. “Hold your horses, kid. We’re doing nothing of that sort. Not when I’m around.”

Jon pouted but grinned anyway, adjusting the sleeves of his shirt. “Well, then what are we doing?”

Before you could answer, you caught a glimpse of movement from the corner of your eye.

Damian.

The boy had taken two steps to the side, eyes locked on the nearest alleyway, looking entirely too ready to vanish into the night.

“Oh, hell no.”

You reached out, snagging the back of his hoodie and pulling him to a halt.

“That goes for you too, mister,” you said, voice firm.

Damian let out an audible groan. “Tt.”

Jon blinked, confused. “Uh—what exactly was he about to do?”

“Disappear into the shadows”

Jon turned to Damian, frowning. “Dude.”

Damian merely sniffed, looking vaguely offended at the idea that he of all people needed babysitting. “I was merely about to scout the area for any dangers.”

You gave him a flat look. “We’re on a sidewalk, Damian.”

“And?”

You exhaled sharply. “You are not ditching me.”

“I wasn’t.”

“You were.”

“Tt. You have no proof.”

“I have a brain.”

Jon held up a finger. “Technically, that’s not proof—”

You turned to him, exasperated. “Jon.”

“Right, right, sorry.”

Damian crossed his arms, unimpressed. “So, what are we doing?”

You just smiled.

Luxurious. That was the only word for the place you were in.

Soft, ambient lighting filled the space, casting everything in a warm, golden glow. The gentle sound of water trickling from an ornamental fountain mixed with the low, soothing hum of instrumental music playing from hidden speakers. A faint scent of lavender, eucalyptus, and something faintly citrusy hung in the air, lulling your body into relaxation almost instantly.

You let out a slow sigh, sinking further into the plush lounge chair as the nail technician expertly shaped your nails. Across from you, Jon was already wrapped up in a fluffy white robe, a cooling face mask spread across his skin, and a woman massaging his shoulders. He looked blissful.

Damian, on the other hand, was sitting stiffly in a massage chair, arms crossed, looking like he was being subjected to cruel and unusual punishment. His expression was set into a deep scowl, but you didn’t miss the way his shoulders had started to relax under the therapist’s touch—albeit reluctantly.

You smirked, wiggling your fingers as the technician moved on to buffing your nails. “Well?”

“Tt.”

Damian’s eyes were shut as if that alone could block out his misery. “You dragged us to a spa.”

You grinned. “I treated you to a spa.”

Damian let out another Tt.

You turned to him, amused. “Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you’re not enjoying this.”

Damian scowled. “I don’t see the point.”

“The point,” you drawled, stretching your legs, “is relaxation.”

“I don’t need relaxation.”

“You literally live with Bruce Wayne. You need it the most.”

Jon let out a snort of laughter.

Damian shot him a glare. “Shut up, Kent.”

Jon just grinned wider, looking far too content. “Nope.”

You chuckled, letting your head fall back against the chair. “Face it, Damian. You like it here.”

“I hate this.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“I loathe you.”

You didn’t miss the way his shoulders had slowly started to loosen.

Or the way his scowl wasn’t as deep as before.

“You love me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

Jon let out a happy sigh, sinking deeper into his chair. “I knew you had a good plan.”

You shot him finger guns. “Always do.”

Jon chuckled, then suddenly let out a little noise of contentment as the massage therapist pressed into his shoulders just right. He melted into the chair, the sheer bliss evident on his face.

“Aww,” you cooed, reaching over to gently pat his head. “Look at you, kid. Living the life.”

Jon made a happy little noise in response, fully leaning into the massage.

Damian scowled. “Are you coddling him?”

“Yes,” you said immediately.

Damian scoffed. “Ridiculous.”

You smirked. “Oh, I’m sorry, would you like to be coddled?”

Damian’s entire face twisted into disgust. “Absolutely not.”

You laughed, nudging Jon. “See? He’s jealous.”

Jon barely opened one eye, too relaxed to care. “Yep.”

Damian turned his glare to him now. “Shut up, Kent.”

Jon just smiled. “Just saying the truth, Damian.”

“You wish.”

You stifled a laugh, watching Damian attempt to shrink further into his chair, clearly regretting ever coming along. You were definitely going to remind him of this later.

The spa had been a fantastic idea—well, for you and Jon, at least.

Damian? Not so much.

At first, he acted as if he were enduring actual torture. When they tried to give him a robe, he scowled as if they’d offered him poison. When they led him to the massage chair, he sat down stiffly, arms crossed, eyes darting around as though expecting an assassination attempt. The moment the massage therapist placed their hands on his shoulders, his entire body locked up.

“This is unnecessary,” Damian muttered as you and Jon stifled your laughter.

“Oh, absolutely,” you said, leaning back as a technician buffed your nails. “Completely unnecessary. That’s why you’re staying right there and relaxing.”

“I am always relaxed.”

You and Jon shared a look.

Jon, his face already covered in a cooling mask, turned toward Damian. “Dude, your entire body is clenched like a steel beam.”

“Tt. I am merely prepared.”

“Prepared for what? A surprise attack by the scented candles?” you teased.

Damian glared at you, but then the massage therapist hit a particular spot on his back, and you swore you saw his soul briefly leave his body. His lips parted slightly, eyes fluttering for a split second before he forcibly locked himself down again, pretending nothing had happened.

“Oh my god,” you grinned. “You liked that.”

Damian turned his head away, nose upturned. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

But he did shift ever so slightly to let the massage therapist work deeper into his back. You and Jon exchanged victorious smirks but wisely didn’t comment further.

Well—except for Jon’s quiet, “Told you you’d like it.”

Damian kicked him under the table.

After a tedious amount of time, Damian had finally let himself relax. Not entirely—he was still Damian, after all—but enough that he no longer looked like he wanted to eviscerate someone.

Jon, meanwhile, had been living the dream since the moment you arrived. You’d made sure to book an extensive package for him, complete with a massage, a face mask, a manicure, and even a foot scrub.

The problem?

Jon’s Kryptonian genes.

The poor spa technicians had no idea what they had signed up for.

It started when they tried using a gua sha stone on his face.

The second they dragged the tool across his cheek, there was a horrifying screech—the sound of something hard scraping against something impenetrable.

The esthetician froze, blinking at the gua sha in her hand.

Jon winced. “Uh…”

Then she tried again. More forcefully.

SCCCRRREEEEEEE—

Damian cringed as the sound echoed through the room, making your ears ring. “That is unbearable.”

“I—I don’t think it’s supposed to sound like that,” Jon said weakly.

The esthetician, determined, switched to a jade roller.

The exact same thing happened.

“Okay,” the woman murmured, frowning. “We’ll, uh, circle back to that.”

Then came the body scrub.

Which was supposed to be exfoliating.

Except the scrub was doing nothing.

Jon, ever the polite one, just smiled sheepishly as the technician literally pushed down with all her strength, trying to get some kind of reaction.

“…You don’t feel anything?” she asked, breathless.

“Uh.” Jon paused. “I mean. It’s kinda nice?”

Damian looked deeply entertained. “This is absurd.”

You nudged him. “You’re absurd.”

“Tt.”

Then came the nail buffing.

Oh, the nail buffing.

The technician tasked with filing Jon’s nails was genuinely putting her whole body into it. You could see her arm muscles flexing as she went back and forth, desperately trying to shape his nails with an emery board that had already worn down to nothing.

At one point, she wiped her forehead. “Are you sure you’re not wearing, like… armor?”

Jon laughed nervously. “Nope, this is, uh, all-natural.”

The woman blinked. Then, deciding to just accept that reality was being weird today, simply nodded.

“Alright,” she said. “We’ll… figure something out.”

Jon beamed. “Thanks!”

You patted his head. “Good job, buddy.”

Jon grinned. “I think this is nice.”

And truly, it was. You were finally getting a break, Damian had sort of warmed up to the experience, and Jon was having the time of his life.

It was peaceful.

It was relaxing.

It was exactly what you needed.

So, of course, something had to go wrong.

The peace was shattered by the sound of screaming outside.

Your head snapped toward the spa entrance just in time to see a group of civilians running past in a panic. Then—explosions.

And the unmistakable whir of something mechanical.

You bolted upright.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”

Jon was already standing, ripping the robe off and revealing his Superboy costume underneath.

Damian, meanwhile, pulled a full Batman move by seemingly materializing his utility belt and weapons out of nowhere.

Before you could even say anything, the two boys were gone—leaping straight out the spa’s open balcony.

You turned to the wide-eyed spa staff, letting out a long sigh.

“Boys being boys, am I right?” You forced a smile, desperately trying to cover up the awkwardness of the situation. “They’re die-hard fans for action. Can’t help themselves.”

For a brief moment, the room was silent as the estheticians exchanged confused glances.

Then, in the most awkward and abrupt way possible, you scrambled to grab your purse, fumbling around as you threw an absolutely ridiculous sum of cash onto the counter—enough to more than cover the treatments, plus a hefty tip for the staff that definitely deserved more than a little credit for surviving this spa chaos.

The technicians just stared at the money, stunned into silence.

You didn’t stick around for questions.

You bolted after the two boys—still wrapped in your robe, your hair tied up in a towel, and your face mask half-finished.

You were praying—praying—that the day would somehow not end up on the news—though you knew full well that was already a lost cause. But hey, at least you were going to have one heck of a story to tell.

You finally made it to the street corner, and saw Amazo-tech robots rampaging through the streets, blasting apart cars and sending civilians running. Jon was in the air, flying between them, lasers shooting from his eyes as he took them down one by one. Damian was on the ground, expertly maneuvering around, slicing through the robots’ weak points.

You were impressed.

But you were also trying not to yell at the two boys.

Because Damian was still wearing his spa robe over his Robin suit.

And Jon still had his facial mask on.

“Just once,” you muttered to yourself, laughing despite the absurdity. “Just once, I want a normal day out.”

But then again, in Gotham, that was never going to happen.

The Batcave had never felt so… tense. The lights flickered above, casting shadows that seemed to mirror the dark expressions of the adults standing before you. You, Damian, and Jon stood side by side, feeling the weight of their scrutiny.

Bruce was standing at the forefront, arms crossed tightly over his chest, his eyes narrow and calculating. Alfred, behind him, looked as if he were about to take away all your privileges for the rest of your lives. Clark had one hand over his face, clearly trying to stifle an impending headache, while Lois had her fingers pressed to the bridge of her nose, fighting the urge to explode in frustration.

The silence stretched on, suffocating. Then, finally, Bruce spoke, his voice quiet but stern.

“So,” he said, voice level. “Would you care to explain yourselves?”

Before you could even open your mouth—

“It was her idea,” Damian said immediately, pointing at you.

Your jaw dropped. “Excuse me—”

He met your glare with a simple, “You were the adult in charge.”

You gaped at him. “Oh, so now I’m the adult?! When I was paying for the spa day, you were more than happy to—”

“Tt.”

“Don’t you ‘Tt’ me, you little shit..!”.”

Bruce let out a long, suffering sigh.

Jon cleared his throat. “It all worked out, though. We saved the day, didn’t we?”

The adults all exchanged a look, their faces unreadable for a moment. Lois then shakes her head and pulled out her phone, tapping something before showing the screen.

It was a photo.

A civilian had snapped a very clear picture of the battle—showing Robin, still in his spa robe, kicking an Amazo-robot in the face while Superboy, face still covered in a facial mask, was mid-air punching another.

It was already trending.

Jon looked at it.

Then, sheepishly, he shrugged.

“…It was nice...?”

Clark just let out a hearty chuckle.

“Well, it’s a memorable way to save Gotham. At least you three enjoyed yourselves.” he said, earning a small chuckle from Lois.

Bruce closed his eyes, clearly questioning his life choices. He rubbed his temples as Lois and Clark just share a look. “….We will discuss this later. Go and get yourselves cleaned up.”

It’s safe to say that your grounding just got a whole lot longer.

i had this as a scene to write for undoing fate but it didn’t quite fit into it as much as i’d like it to so it became a oneshot outside of it instead (completely unrelated to undoing fate but you can imagine it happening between chapter 7-9 when they’re posted lol) but hope you guys enjoyed this 🫶

taglist (open): @k1arar3 @kingshitonly @rainnyydaysworld @ceridwyn3 @darkfaethedestroyer @blueiones @strwberryglass @lithiumval @thephantomdanny @eli-mayhaveatencats @rockyeatrock @dreaming-of-the-reality @shirp-collector-of-fixations @gneepgnorpsneepsnorp @skerbablo @dind1n @gwyneveire @yukixies @kristalag @greantii | ask to be added <3

[retiredteabag]

Wishful Thinking - chapter two

arranged marriage with Nanami with a people-pleasing reader

last part - next part - series masterlist

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

The silence that permeates the car you were shuffled into with your husband is suffocating.

Your life partner had let go of your hand the moment he had reached to buckle you into your seat. You strain your fingers now, hoping the sweat on your palms hadn't been noticeable.

A driver from your clan's estate had been tasked with dropping you and your husband off at your newly arranged space. You knew this man, the man who was seated directly to your left, was not affiliated with any clan, this meant you had no idea where you were headed.

Several shipments of your belongings had been retrieved over the weeks since the higher-up's declaration of marriage for you had been in place. A steady and simple move-in awaited you. Something you weren't particularly happy about.

You thought through a list of things to occupy yourself with instead of awkwardly standing in this stranger mans presence.

As curious as you were about your future arrangements, you truly could not ignore the silence in this vehicle much longer. Had you married any of the expected bachelors, you were sure your ear would be talked off at this point, yet, you did not even know this mans name.

You took in a deep breath, preparing to speak, the blonde fellow, (your literal husband) turned to meet your eyes, likely having expected you to say something. His eyes shock you, and you turn away once more to stare out the window.

You strain your hand into a fist and work up the courage. Turning with an inhale once more, you force out words before you can change your mind, "Terribly sorry..." You start, looking him in the eyes, "Could you remind me of your name?"

You had never been given it to begin with. Perhaps the officiant at your wedding had recited it in his speech, but you had been a little distracted at the time.

"I'm sorry?" He strains his neck in your direction, eyebrows raised.

"Your name? Sorry... I think I ought to know it, right?"

"You don't know my name?" His head shakes a little as he speaks, incredulous.

You hesitate, "...No? I wasn't paying the most attention for it during the ceremony..." You mumble the last bit, waiting for him to cut you off, but he just stares at you.

"I'm sorry-" His hand hovers mid-air, "You weren't given my name?"

Oh no, you've offended him.

"Oh! It's not like that! My family is....very fond of you! And the higher-ups speak very well of you as well! I...well...I erm..." How do you fix this? Stroke his ego?

His hand is firmly on his forehead now. "That is not what I meant. I'm asking you - you were not informed of my name? Who I am? Were you even aware you were to be wed?"

You fumble a bit with the skirt of your dress, "Of course! Yes, I just... well, I didn't know who, but the marriage bit was no surprise."

"But the rest, that is all true? You had no idea you would be marrying me?" He looks frustrated, to say the least. You had no idea this would come as shocking news, someone should have informed you.

He is peeking at you through his hand, "Well...no, but-" He cuts you off now, but he seems to not be speaking to you.

"No wonder you looked so ill up there..."

Okay ouch.

"When did you agree to this marriage? Was this simply... decided for you?

You weren't sure what to say. Had this not been decided for him as well? Speaking frankly, you were not entirely sure of why he had been chosen as your partner, he had no duty to his name. Even so, he looked repulsed at the realization, eyes shot wide.

"Well... it was-" Were you supposed to be talking about this? Should you say this to your husband? "Umm... Well, I'm sure you know the higher-ups are involved with the clans..."

He shifted in his seat to face you fully now, "You...were forced?" He almost looks frighted at the concept. You want to laugh.

Of course, you were. How else did he think marriage worked?

Despite your thoughts, all you said was, "No, it was a mutual understanding that I would be married."

"Yet you know nothing about me." He looks forward at the road.

Was that what this was about? "I'm a quick learner, if you're concerned about that."

He sighs and smacks a hand to his face again. "No...No that is not what concerns me."

You have a litany of responses ranging from, 'I see...' to 'what does concern you then?' but you say none of them. You just sit forward and stare at your palms.

Oddly enough, it does not take long for the silence to be broken once more.

"Nanami." He says.

"I'm sorry?" You hadn't expected him to speak, eyes wide, you turn to him again.

"Nanami Kento. That's-" He sighs, as if it's a real chore to introduce himself, "my name is Nanami Kento."

You look to one another for a moment before you quickly break the connection, gazing out your window, deigning to not look again until you arrived.

"Mmm...thank you." You finally say.

--

Although you knew the house was not terribly far from your family estate, it felt like hours had passed before you allowed yourself to move once more.

Mr. Nanami had climbed from his seat once the car had halted.

Eager to be away from me it seems.

Only, he had seemed surprised as you climbed from your door as well, having walked around to greet you.

"Allow me," He had said, reaching for the small train case in the back of the car, it had been filled with small wedding gifts and your husband insisted on carrying it for you.

I wonder how long he will keep up this act. You found yourself thinking. Your new residence was sizable. Nice, in an uncomfortably clean way. Perhaps that is how your husband liked it.

As you stepped over the threshold, moving out of "the man of the house's" way. You took it in.

This place must have been chosen by the higher-ups. Your father would not have bought you a home, nor did you expect a man without clan connections to have been able to purchase such a plot of land.

It was only mid-afternoon. Yet your life was impossibly different than it had been only a few hours prior. You had expected the driver to stay and discuss the honeymoon with the two of you but it seemed he had not been instructed with that information.

As many frightening realizations occurred to you, you were able to resign yourself to acceptance, putting aside the...bedding...situation... the concern that stuck with you was dinner plans.

Were you expected to have that prepared? You didn't know what he preferred though....

Thoughts of your...marital duties swam in your head while Nanami was making his way towards the living room.

"Of course," He was saying, "You're free to use whatever you like, these things are as much yours as they are mine..." He had rounded through the sitting area and around the kitchen into the master bedroom, never once turning to look at you.

It was clear that people had come to prepare the area for you two. On his bedside table, you see a comfortable pair of plaid pajama pants and a loose grey shirt. You had not been presented with such. No, on the bed, strewn out for the both of you to see was a... sordid... set of black lacy lingerie.

You stood in silence. A resigned look on your face. Your husband on the other hand, had coughed, spun around, and fully walked from the room in moments.

What was he doing? Was he sickened by you? Did he expect you to appreciate his apprehension? If you were being honest, you would like for him to get this act over with as quickly as possible.

Looking at your marital bed, you were once again reminded of your mother's sobs only this morning. You looked down at the gown that clung to your waist. You had felt pretty today, despite the occasion. You knew you would not feel beautiful in that raunchy piece of string.

How long do I have? You wondered.

Finally moving yourself, you come before the undergarments, sit next to them, and run your hand along the bed's silky duvet.

You sat in silence for longer than you expected to be given. You finally reached your hand up your spine. Unzipping the dress, unbuttoning the clasp at your neck.

You slid it off your body. Walking around the room near-nude to lay the dress along the ladder of a bookcase. It was nice, actually. Maybe you wouldn't mind it here.

You did not rush to dress in the sexy, frilly, underthings. You might not have been perfectly comfortable in your body, but that didn't matter. Not when you had knowledge of the intentions behind your wedding for years.

It was a bit of a challenge to get it on. You weren't sure how to get your arms through at first, and then you swapped them around when you couldn't figure out the neck bit.

What did it matter, it would be coming off anyway.

After dressing, you sat in the same spot on the bed for a while, staring at your hands. You wondered if he was expecting to eat first. Seeing as he had left you alone, however, you figured he would return eventually.

It was cold like this, you hopped he would hurry.

Just as you were beginning to consider moving to look at the bookcase, (panty clad and all) your spine snapped into place when you heard him calling for you. When had you given him your name? You weren't sure.

He was speaking loudly so you might hear through the wall, but not in a frustrated manner, "The kitchen staff is arranging something for us to eat-" He had slowly began to open the door, when his eyes landed on you. Not a moment passed before he dropped whatever he had in his hands. It loudly clattered to the floor and he slammed the door shut. The noise echoed in the room.

"What-??!" He stuttered, "What are you doing?!!"

Your mouth opened and closed repeatedly like a fish. What were you doing? What did he mean? And how exactly do you respond?

"I... uhh-" You looked down at yourself in the ridiculous lace.

You had not been trained in much regarding sex, having been told that the man you would marry would be well aware of how to educate you when it came to your actions. Suddenly self-conscious, you wondered if you had done something wrong.

Nanami calls your name from outside your new bedroom, then repeats it. Firm and unmoving. "What-are-you-doing?"

Your hands flounce around. Stuttering for a response, "I- I don't know!?" You finally force out, the tone coming off a little too questioning for an answer.

After a moment there is a dull *bonk* against the door. You hear no response for a long while. The room is so silent, you can hear your heart pounding. It was so painfully uncomfortable, you reached a hand to your chest to try and calm it. Finally, he clears his throat and calls out to you from behind the door again.

He speaks your name gently, as if calling to a child, "I'm going to come in now, okay?"

You sit upon the bed once more, back straight. "Alright." You nod to yourself.

Unsure of what to expect, you watch the door handle tilt to allow for your husbands entry, but your eyes narrow as he shifts into the room, avoiding your gaze - in fact - avoiding your presence completely.

His arm is shaking off his nicely tailored suit jacket. Still turned to look at the closet, he comes before you, jacket in hand, and reaches out for your shoulders. You almost want to shrink back from this odd behavior but remain still as he wraps you up in his clothing.

After a few awkward seconds, he turns to look at you. "What are you doing?" He repeats, low and calm.

You raise your brows, "What... are you doing?" You reach up to feel the jacket covering your collar and torso, instantly, he drops his hands from your shoulders.

He shakes his head, a hand tugging at his loose blond hair. "I don't... understand." He is no longer looking in your vicinity. His voice shakes and all the air leaves his lungs.

"I'm sorry." You wrap yourself tighter in his jacket, shifting to stare at him, "Was this not... expected?" His apprehension certainly came as a surprise to you.

Suddenly he's back, fully facing you, "Expected?" He raises his brows, "What is this? You're... what? Doing what is expected of you?". Despite the severity of the moment, it is now that you recognize how expressive his features are. His neck, up to his cheeks, up to even his ears are a warm pink. It wouldn't be improbable to assume his chest is a rosy shade right about now as well.

You decide to push the boundary, share your frustration. Why is he upset? If he does not want you, he should just say. It's not as if you desire him in that way. This has been an incredibly stressful and tense day, at least he knew who you were before all of this, you did not have that liberty. If anything, you should be upset with him!

"Is it not?" You speak up, "Forgive me, but I was under the impression that...this" You pull your arm out from under his jacket to motion between you two, "was how this worked."

He makes a face. Revolted.

"You are- we-" He cuts himself off, waving his hands before himself, then covers his face, "no." He gets out, "This is not how this works."

"Well." Now you're flushing, embarrassed. You straighten yourself, balling his suit jacket in your firsts. "What... would you like for me to do? I told you in the car that I learn quickly, if thats-"

"Stop." He spits out, voice suddenly higher than before, "Just...stop."

You swallow. What does he want from you? "Okay." You whisper.

He calls for you gently, and motions for you to stand. He turns away from the bathroom now and shifts in the other direction, looking at your wedding gown strewn across the bookcase ladder. He purses his lips. "Please.... dress yourself." He swallows, motions towards the wardrobes along the wall. "Something comfortable in there. I was... going to ask your preferences, for a meal-for dinner. Let me-"

He clears his throat, moving away now toward the bedroom door, he drops to the floor and picks up what must be his phone, having been dropped earlier, he rubs the screen on his pant leg. "What would you like?"

You stare at him, straight-faced. "Anything you like." You're not a picky eater.

He sighs, looking up at the ceiling, "No. What do you like to eat?

You shrug, "Anything. I don't mind." You shake your head at him and he just looks you up and down. The stupidly large jacket comes mid-thigh.

He takes a deep breath. Then exhales dramatically. Nods. And he's gone. This time, when closing the door, he makes an effort to do so gently.

--

You had found a soft cotton pajama set in one of the dresser drawers. Having long since removed your previous attire, you wonder what your husband is thinking of as he silently serves two plates of Chinese food.

You wonder what your father would say if he saw Mr. Nanami serving up dinner for his wife as you sat on the living room couch.

You're taken from your thoughts as Nanami places a large wooden tray on the couch, he places the food on it.

It seems you will very much be eating together.

"I hope you enjoy it. Let me know if you don't." He murmurs, seating himself near you in the dimly lit room.

In no world would you complain about the food your husband served you. Even if you disposed it, luckily, you liked Chinese cuisine. Before you can even get out a word of appreciation he is speaking again, "I think we should talk."

You sit up straight. "Alright."

He motions for you to eat, "Feel free. I think we ought to have an open discussion."

You grab your utensils but don't reach for anything until after he takes a bite. Awaiting his words.

"Well... I believe we ought to be on the same page about this. I had been under the impression that we were... but as I can see, that is not the case." He stares at you intently.

He is not speaking down to you, but rather, making space for an open conversation. You set down your chopsticks, and await further explanation.

"I suppose I should know what exactly the higher-ups asked of you."

You raise your brows, "Sorry?"

An apology has become a common synonym for many of your reactions.

"Earlier, you asked me for my name. And just then-" He flushes a little, motioning to the bedroom, "well- you mentioned expectations and I feel I ought to ask you what is is that has been requested of you."

Is this man daft? Is he playing with you?

Before you respond, you test the waters, "What did the higher-ups demand of you?"

The man sighs.

"I am terribly sorry," he calls your name again like its easy, a habit that makes your stomach flip, "It seems that people have not been honest with you, you deserve an explanation. I just expected you to be aware of this before our union."

He pauses for a moment, his eyes watch you and the chopsticks laying on the wooden tray.

Ah.

You reach to take a bite. It's good, and oddly puts the man before you at ease.

"Before this, I was intending to leave sorcery."

He states it as if it is nothing. Your eyes bug out and he pauses, allowing for you to ensure you heard correctly.

"The higher-ups have a large amount of sway in Tokyo, I'm not sure about Kyoto, but they were not fond of this plan."

I can't imagine why that would be. You thought as you recalled the moment you had first seen this Nanami Kento.

It had been an annual meeting between the Kyoto and Tokyo branches. You had heard him refer to sorcery as "a pain". Had he been considering retirement even then?

You simply nod, listening quietly. "It was their intention to find me...a wife." He huffs, "Maintaining a life in sorcery was highly important to them."

Oh, you see. Perhaps he wasn't so different from you after all.

The higher-ups have only had one expectation for you, even since showing promise in the world of sorcery, even after moving up the ranks at Kyoto Metropolitan Curse Technical College. Your job was plain and simple.

To have babies.

Sorcerer babies.

Had they been so afraid of losing one sorcerer to the regular world that he was cornered into loveless marriage? All to keep him from departure? Was that why Gakuganji had been so immediate with his instatement of your husband?

"I see..." You nod once more.

"I would like to know your experience as well. What was it that they asked of you?" He had both hands laid flat on the makeshift table between the pair of you.

You consider what to say. "I...have known-" you try again, "My duty has been laid out for some time now." You tilt your head, he's squinting at you.

"Please. Just tell me. They... forced you - to - to do that?" He points his head in the direction of your room once more.

Now you're confused. You want to speak in a way that doesn't insult his intelligence but he's making is difficult for you. "Did you not... marry me for children?"

He chokes.

Coughing to clear his throat, he wipes his mouth. "That is not- eugh-" he tries again, "They cannot ask that of you. I will not do anything that you are not explicitly requesting of me." He pauses effecting a moment of silence before, "Do you understand?"

But you don't. "Mr. Nanami, are you... not expected to produce children? Is that not why you were chosen to be in this situation?"

He responds quickly and with precision, "I did not marry you for what you could give me. No."

You can't hold in your confused laugh, "Then...why?"

"Was it not the easiest for the both of us?" He smirks at you, his shoulders have eased only slightly after hearing your laugh, "I was informed that your other options were not the most savory."

"You knew you would be marrying me?" You ask, ignoring his reference to your suitors and flummoxed by how easy it is to speak comfortably with a man you had been so recently adverse to.

"Yes. I... cannot believe you were not provided the same..." He pauses, "I was under the impression that this was a mutual decision..."

"Oh." It's all you can say.

Nanami takes in a deep breath from across the couch cushions. "I'm sorry." And you really believe that he means it. "I would not have agreed if I knew." He forms a flat line with his lips.

"I think you're right, though..." He looks at you, addled, so you continue, “This was the easiest choice. I think so too." You're unsure of how else to conclude.

Your wedding dinner had not been what you would have expected and the night, unlike anything you could have predicted.

Nanami Kento, no matter how you denied and tried to shuffle from the bedroom, had sworn himself to a guestroom after collecting the night clothes laid out for him on the bedside table.

He had gently grabbed your shoulders, maneuvering you towards the bed and away from the exit. Pleading with you to remain in the master bedroom. Claiming that he had intended to sleep in a separate bedroom since the beginning.

Though you pulled at his arms to try and swap your standing, telling him adamantly to take the bigger of the bed options, he simply drew close to you, shifted farther from the door and blocked your sights. He lead you softly to the bed, and when you attempted to side step him and make your way to the guestroom, he took one arm, catching you by the waist, and swiftly lifted you from the floor.

"Please. Do not ask me again. Sleep here, alright? All of your things are here. I will be very comfortable in the guestroom."

And before you could get out any complaint, he had you placed upon the duvet. His hands were off you in an instant, but he remained looking in your direction as he backed to the door you had been fighting over.

"Do sleep well." His long strides had brought him to the rooms entrance with no delay, you were still caught up with the fact that he had lifted you like a sack of potatoes, with one arm no less. "We will likely have to arrange the...trip tomorrow."

The honeymoon, that's right.

He said it in a way that sounded like, 'just to warn you' or 'you should know'. But all you could reply with was, "Right."

"Right." He echo's, turning to walk through the door, and looks to you once more. "Sleep well." And there's your name again, leaving his lips as though you are long time friends.

"You too."

But the door has been silently shut.

His touch lingers on your waist from where he had lifted you. Not in the way your fathers hand would linger after he drug you to and from meetings, not the way his fingers would remain painfully on your neck after he would steer you into conference rooms. But rather, in an almost ticklish way.

You shiver.

And run your hands over your new duvet.

When you had made up your childhood bed and left this morning, you had listened to your mothers cries, sure that last night would be the last time you would have the peace of your own bed. Your heart swelled with the knowledge that you had been wrong.

Your fingers traced the stitching on the comforter. Swung your legs from the mattress, and almost-almost grinned.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

tag list @longlivegojo @kitkatlover015 @l0v3rgirl-owo @smailaway (if your name is here but you didn’t get tagged. I think it’s either bc your blog is new/blank/empty or you need to check your privacy settings)

[hoshigray]

Hi hi LOVEEE YOUR WORKK

The way you write kinda touches my heart, and tingles my brain a little too

Especially your jjk fics!!!

Do you mind if I request a kind of angst smut fic of reader leaving home to blow off some steam after having a heated argument with any JJK man and he comes out to find her and resolve 😼😼🤭 it in the car?

Thank you for reading thisss 🫶

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: awww, ty for liking my stuff!! i was supposed to release a sugu fic today (but didn't, yikes, lmao), so imma make this sugu~

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Geto x afab/fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - angst + reconciliation - sex in a public area; car out in the neighborhood - fingering (f! receiving) - clitoral play (swiping and licking) - feedbag position - oral (f! receiving) - pet names (angel, baby, pretty thing, my love, pumpkin, sweetheart) - implied insertion at the end - mention of spit.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.2k

“…”

“Y/n, what are you doing?.”

“You can’t see I’m taking a walk?”

“Please just get inside the car.”

“Leave me alone, Geto!”

Geto winces at the use of his family name. Oh fuck, they really are mad at me…

You were walking on the pavement, your anger exhibited through your feet, stomping as you traveled down the concrete floor in the supposed quiet neighborhood. Unfortunately, you weren’t alone; your boyfriend drove slowly to match your speed and speak with you. 

Why were you angry? Why don’t you ask the fucking asshat following you in that car of his? The two of you had a terrible argument not too long ago, and you’re sure the neighbors of your complex must’ve heard the audible insults and blows you two threw at each other for almost an hour. You hadn’t expected things to be blown out of proportion – it’s not unusual for people in relationships to argue. However, if your partner insidiously says something that he knows will tip you off the scales, are you not inclined to exit the apartment to blow off some steam before you choke him to death and have a murder charge on your record?

“Baby, c’mon, you can’t just keep walking on the sidewalk like this.”

So here you are, out for an evening stroll meant to calm you down, yet it’s doing the opposite since a certain someone is trailing alongside you. 

You suck your teeth, “Geto, go home! Why are you even following me?”

The tall black-haired man ducks down for you to see him from the driver’s window. “Because I feel bad!”

“Good!” You bark. “Good that you feel bad; feel nothing but bad, so just leave me be.”

“You know I can’t do that; look how dark out it’s getting!” It was around nine in the evening. The sun had just finished setting, so its shine was dwindling, and the twilight was mere minutes away from transitioning to dusk. “You can’t be walking out alone; just get in the car.”

“Hmph, absolutely not,” you can feel the crease of your furrowed brows worsening. “I’m heading to get homemade ice cream from that place I like; it’s the only thing that can put my mind at ease right now, and seeing your face and hearing your voice isn’t doing anything good for my mood right now.” 

The flat line of Geto’s lips is pressed harder, guilt swelling in the pitch of his gut like no other. “…I’ll take you to the place. Just hop in.”

“I’d rather get shot.” Apparently, your boyfriend doesn’t get the ‘don’t want to hear or see you’ part you stressed about literally seconds ago.

“That’s what I don’t want! Do you have any idea how long the walk is?”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m very aware, and you’re slowing me down with all this chat.”

“Yeah, but you won’t get to that place until around ten o’clock,” he argues. And then that’s another hour and a half walking back; you’d probably be back home by midnight!” 

You couldn’t lie; hearing him be so concerned about you and your safety made you feel a little warm from the early summer breeze touching the exposed skin of the halter top. However, a part of your stubbornness refused to stand down. And yet the more you looked towards you, the further it felt like you’d reach your destination. He’s right; you wouldn’t make it home in time. Plus, it’s getting darker by the second, the comforting blue hue of the sky being absorbed by the bright, dominant moon. 

Once you come to an abrupt stop, Geto nearly forgets to hit the brakes, and your figure stands motionless and silent. Then, you move towards the door behind the driver’s side, opening the door to sit in the backseat. You beat Geto to the punch, breaking the silence, “Don’t talk, just drive.”

A soft, relieved sigh leaves the onyx-headed man, but he notices you avoiding the rearview mirror, where purple eyes flicker to try to see you. “…Is this really necessary?”

“What is?”

“You sitting in the backseat?” 

“What does it matter to you? I’m in the car, aren’t I?”

“What the hell am I, you Uber? Get in the front.”

“No. You said you’d drive me, so do that, and don’t make me angrier than I already am.” 

You thought you won the round when you didn’t hear a remark from your companion. Yet, that wasn’t the case because the man opened and closed his door, walked around the car to open the door to the other side of the backseat, and it takes everything in your power not to pop a vessel when he takes a seat. “You cannot be serious.”

“I’m very serious,” he closes the door. 

“Are you deaf? I said I don’t wanna talk to you.”

“And are you blind; can’t you see me trying to make this work—“

“Work?” Oh, how you wanted to burn this car up. “You should’ve thought about that when you said what you said back there.” You didn’t know if it was right to say that—That sounded mean, was it mean?—yet it came from a place of hurt that he caused.

Your words strike deep into Geto, but he still speaks his mind. “Y/n, please…Can you at least look at me?” You don’t move a muscle. “I’m your boyfriend, so can you at least look at my face and not push me—“

“Yeah, you are my boyfriend,” malice in your tone. “And you’re doing a pretty terrible job as of today.”

“Y/n—“

“God!” Now, you finally turn to him with vexation scorching your pupils. “I just want to be left alone–away from you, alright! What part of that don’t you get?! Why can’t you leave me alone?”

“Because I’m sorry!”

Your lips nearly quiver at the snap of those three words, eyes on the brink of shedding tears. Nonetheless, your face returns to the front. “Bullshit…H-Hey, let go!”

“I told you, I’m being very serious!” Geto brings you in for an embrace, and your resistance is hushed down as he keeps talking. “Look, I…I’m sorry. What I said back there…I didn’t mean for it to hurt you like it did, baby. You said something before that made me angry and…” his hold on you gets tighter; you notice even if you’re busy hearing every word from his mouth. “I didn’t think what I said would make you leave, and I got scared.” His mellow voice delves into a hushed tone. “So fucking scared…I’m sorry, Y/n. Just…don’t leave me out like that, okay…”

And with that, the remnant of your irritation ceased. The hotness of your blood subsides to a calm flow, your body easing into the hug as his apology repeats in your mind. You couldn’t think about your argument before; you just can’t, not with an apology like this when you can feel and hear him be genuine and vulnerable. You wanted to be angry with him–you tried– but the more you forced the outrage, the more you kept burrowing your head into his chest and your hands wrapped around his slim figure. 

“You’re such a dick, do you know that?” Doing everything you can not to cry since his face is nestled in the crook of your neck. “And…I’m sorry for saying stuff that made you mad at me, too.”

“Guess we’re both dicks, huh.” A joke meant to make you giggle, but he doesn’t sense the jerk of your shoulders. “Hey, I’m sorry. You forgive me?”

“Sure,” you murmur. “After you get me that ice cream.” Your jest made him chuckle instead.

“Mmm, on it,” your breath stops at the kiss on your temple. “But, before that,” he lifts his head, violet eyes examining your expression. “Don’t you think I should also have a little something?”

His question confuses you until you feel the grasp of his hand sneak inside your jeans, and the bare flesh of your ass meets the mild cold of his fingertips. “Suguru, what are you—“

“Compensation,” he kisses your neck, and you gasp at another rough knead on your asscheek. 

“Oh, that’s bull…Mmm.”

“Oh? So you can have ice cream to forgive me, but I can’t have anything?” The hand is then lifted out to move to the front, his gingers pressing on the part of your panties that cover your groin. “Well, aren’t you selfish.”

You couldn’t question his logic with his digits now motioning up and down your concealed cunt, your legs spreading apart as Geto’s forearm pushed them aside for easier access. “Hahhh, Sugu…Mmmnn, not here…”

“Mmm? Why not?” He says with faux shock, gently having you lay on your back as he spreads your legs further. His hand still fingers your underwear, only fueling a wet spot to protrude more and more. “It’s dark out, and no one’s driving around here.”

“That’s not—Mmmm!” A thumb presses down on your clit; how cruel to sneak that attack on you. “Ohh, fuck…”

Geto kisses you, gradually unraveling your erotic senses with every peck he places on your lips with his soft ones. And his lips don’t rest there, laying kisses to your chin, your collarbone, and lifting your shirt to expose your abdomen for him to kiss and suck the skin of your tummy and navel. All the while, his fore and middle fingers keep pushing into your chasm as your hips buck subtly.

Another minute of pleasing you with his hand goes by, your wetness becoming more and more evident as his digits did the work in having you wet for him. “Look at you,” he’d say cooly. “Making a mess, such a dirty, pretty thing you are.”

“Sugu, stop, you’re making me—Oooh…” he slips his middle finger inside your panties to insert you. And then, his thumb dances around your clitoris, evoking the shaky moans to leave you. “Ahhh! Noo, don’t move like…”

A snicker leaves his lips. “What? You like it when I tease you like this, don’t you, pumpkin?” He pushes your underwear out of the way and continues to finger you. “You’re gripping on my finger like crazy.”

“Shhtoop, your fingers,” your hand finds his wrist yet does nothing to stop him. “If you keep going, I-I’ll…Hooohh…”Your eyelids suddenly feel heavy, closing them to conceal your vision. However, that only enhances the use of your other senses, indulging in the sense of touch as Geto plays with your pussy. 

Even if you didn’t finish your sentence, Geto takes the initiative and removes his hand to lick the fingers. “Oh, my love,” he coos while rolling up your underwear to stay on your inner leg after removing your jeans. In the meantime, the man brings your hips up and rests your legs on his shoulders. “That’s exactly what I want from you…”

Your eyes snap open at the contact of something wet yet firm, sliding across your wet folds, your body jolting at the sensation of it nestling between your labia. And the flick of his tongue on your clit nearly has you choke. “Suguu, no, don’t—Ahaann!”

Any attempts to squirm out of his hold don’t seem manageable now that you two are in the backseat of the car; his hands firmly keep you stable and still as his face ventures closer to your genitalia. Tiny moans get louder and louder with every lick of his tongue cleaning your slit of your essence; ironic as more of your fluids seep out as he does so.

Your hand grabs hold of tuffs of his raven hair, but that only eggs him on to keep going. Pushing his tongue into your entrance, he fucks you with the wet muscle and has your body writhe and crying for him. As the space gets hotter, you wouldn’t be surprised to find fog starting to cloud the windows. But that would probably be for the best as you wouldn’t want people on this road to know what you two were doing, nor hear the squelches from the commotion.

“Ohhhshit, shiiiit,” your head pounding like crazy, you couldn’t think straight, and the walls of your cunt keep clamping onto the tongue that swirls around and has you wailing. “Ooooh,hoooh, Sugu’, I’m gonna—It’s coming…! I’m…Aiishhh!”

“Go ahead, angel,” he says before licking your clit erratically, using his middle finger to fuck your release out. “Let it out for me, baby.”

With how fast he’s sucking and licking your delicate bud and his digit rubbing on your velvety texture, how can you not come? You scream aloud at the wave that crashes on your body, your hips jerking on their own as the trembles of your orgasm rock your entire frame.

Geto keeps you steady, taking in your release with his mouth. He groans at the taste of you on his tongue, his fingers kneading your waist as if to relax your body for him as you ride out your high because of him. Quivering legs get less apparent with every buck, and once your breathing returns to an average pace, he places you back down. 

“Good job, sweetie,” he bends to kiss your cheek as he unbuckles his pants to expose his briefs that harbor a tent. “You tasted too good to resist; wanna feel you all on me…”

“You…” you grab for his cheek to pinch. “I better get my ice cream tonight, Geto Suguru.”

Your soft threat has him chuckling. “Will do, baby,” and you succumb to a kiss.

If the windows hadn’t fogged up already, they sure were going to now.

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ✩ dividers by @/benkeibear.

[nereidprinc3ss]

andromeda | (dybmn? bonus)

a bonus vignette from spencer's POV. we find out how he really feels about reader. takes place the day before the argument at the bar.

note: this is not part six! takes place between parts four and five.

series masterlist

18+ warnings/tags: fem!reader, semi-graphic descriptions of sexual fantasies, some angst, you're not actually present, mention of alcohol, very vague discussions of murdery stuff bc he's supposed to be working, sassy spencer makes an appearance a/n: for all my angels who said they wanted a snippet of spencer's POV! i'm sorry if i'm overdoing it with this story or clogging the spencer tags, i'm just having a lot of fun! i hope you enjoy or that this may be clears some things up for you, pls lmk your thoughts:) ily!!!

Spencer is incessantly drumming the particle board table underneath his fingers.

The polymer veneer is one of his least favorite textures—he hates the grain of it and if he were to accidentally scratch the table with his nails he knows it would make the hair on the back of his neck stand up. 

But of all the things he’s worried about, that ranks very low on the list. 

He’s got a lot of mental tabs open all the time—and the tabs, he can deal with. It’s when he starts trying to operate with multiple windows that he begins to struggle. His brain, while it is a very fine tuned sort of computer, only has one monitor. Unfortunately, no human (except for the ones who’ve had their brain hemispheres surgically split) is immune to the inevitable pitfalls of multitasking. By dividing his mental energy between you and his job, he’s really fucking up his job. But he also thinks he really fucked up with you on that phone call the other night and for being as logical as he is he can’t seem to make that feel unimportant—even though he’s disgusted with himself for it because there are literally people dying. 

Someone knocks on the open conference room door—he looks up, skimming his lips over his fist. 

“What’s up?” he says too quickly upon seeing Emily’s mildly concerned face peering in on him. 

Her mouth bridges into a sort of nonchalant frown and her brows kick up. 

“Just… checking in. Haven’t heard from you all morning.”

“Yeah, the, uh—the geo-profile. I’m still… I’m still working it out.”

It’s not like he’s ever been phenomenal with his syntax in a social sense, but Spencer is certainly aware he’s doing even worse than usual right now. 

“Okay. Uh… is there anything in particular stumping you, or…?”

“Nope. Just not enough information. But I’m—I’m going to keep trying.”

“Alright. Got your phone handy?”

It’s an odd question—of course he has his phone handy. He’s been doing this job longer than Emily has. How else would he communicate with the rest of the team? He bristles. 

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”

Emily shakes her head. She’s always been particularly good at reading his moods.

“You’re not under attack, Reid. I was just asking.”

Just as he’s about to say, why would you assume I’m not prepared for my job, he manages to swerve away and stifle the words with his fist. Instead he looks back down at his copy of the map and nods. In reality, he truly isn’t prepared for his job today. The reason he has his phone so close, fully charged and at top volume is because he’s worried he’ll miss a call from you. 

Emily says something else, and he hums in response, and then she’s gone. 

He shouldn’t be reading into your reticence this much. It’s not like you just sit by the phone all day, eagerly awaiting a call or text from him (like he does you). You have a life. You’re busy. And even if you are intentionally dodging his texts, he can’t entirely fault you for it. Spencer knows he’s clingy. He knows he’s overbearing. It’s part of why he panicked the other night and told you the whole humiliating story about Elle. Because he can’t ever just be cool and he felt the need to explain himself. 

But the problem was, and is, that he doesn’t know how much longer he can go without saying those three words that fucked him over all those years ago.

So he’d danced around them. Applied them to someone else to try and avoid outright professing his all-consuming love for you over the phone. However you feel, Spencer has to assume he feels more. Spencer always has to assume he feels more because he usually does and it’s gotten him into trouble before. And now he’s pretty sure he was exactly right, as often is the case, because you didn’t tell him he was mistaken and you’d clammed up and you haven’t talked to him since and he’s not supposed to be reading into it this much. 

Three victims killed and dumped within a 6 mile radius of the first victim plus one victim killed and dumped 23.8 miles away. That doesn’t make any fucking sense. Fuck this guy. 

Spencer decides the problem is that he needs more caffeine. 

Or possibly, if he were a different kind of man—copious amounts of alcohol. 

So he stows his phone in a pocket and asks the first person he sees where the coffee machine is. 

“Looks like you found it earlier,” the woman says, glancing pointedly down at his mostly empty mug. A playful smirk tugs at pinkish-brownish lips. She’s pretty, he realizes distantly. But he registers it the same way he’d take note of the model of a car, or the species of a bird, or the kind of shoes someone is wearing. It doesn’t actually interest him. It’s just part of processing his environment. “I can show you to it?”

He doesn’t have the heart or energy to explain that someone else brought him his cup earlier and he’s not flirting with her. 

“If you could just point me in the right direction…?”

She laughs, short and dry, before she’s pointing down a hall. 

“Kitchenette down there and to the left.”

“Thanks,” he mutters, already walking away without sparing her a second glance. 

She’s the kind of woman he would have paid a lot more attention to before you came along. Not that he’d ever sleep with someone on the job (not since he was 25, anyway), but if he’d met her under any other circumstances he probably would have cared more about the way her pupils dilated and her eyes had widened slightly and she’d adjusted her posture and all the other small things people do when they’re attracted to someone else. 30 year old Spencer might have slept with her. 27 year old Spencer definitely would have slept with her. Current Spencer obsessively pines for a woman who is already his girlfriend and whom he has yet to sleep with at all far too much to think about other women like that. 

But god, does he think about you like that. 

His feet carry him down the dim, carpeted hallway but really it took barely a nudge and he’s thinking about you like that. At work. As he’s pouring himself coffee. 

Spencer is confident in the fact that if anyone were to look at him right now, they’d never guess he’s running clips of you in his mind like a dirty supercut. Because he’s just pouring coffee. That’s one good thing about having all those tabs open all the time. He can toggle between them quickly. He has enough going on in the background that people look at him and all they can tell is that he’s thinking hard about lots of things. Some of them just happen to be the way you look when you’re naked on his bed, skin shining and glazed eyes sleepy, parted lips higher in color than usual and catching your breath. Some of them happen to be your hair brushing his stomach before he gathers it back for you. Some of them happen to be the way your thighs feel on either side of his face, or how you stretch around his fingers, or how you might feel when you stretch around his—

He hisses as hot coffee overflows from the mug and burns his hand. 

Maybe he’s not as calm and collected as he thought. 

But on top of all the other things he’s dealing with, having been so close to actually sleeping with you the other night is really fucking with his head. Even if he tells himself he wouldn't have done it, he knows himself better than that. He's too familiar with the effect you have on his judgement.

“Found it okay?” 

Spencer looks down, surprised to see the woman from earlier sitting at her desk and watching him as he quickly passes by on his way back to the conference room. Her legs are crossed. She’s wearing a pencil skirt and a flouncy sort of blouse which seems impractical for working in an FBI field office. Maybe she notices his eye catching on her figure and misguidedly swivels her chair to give him a better look. But all he’s noticing is that it doesn’t look like yours. Now he’s picturing the curve of your hip dripping in silk after that first night at Rossi’s. How your waist and your stomach feel when he slides his hands over you. This woman—she might as well not even be here for all he’s actually seeing her. 

“Yeah. Thanks again.”

Then he’s gone. Very briefly he acknowledges that he should feel sorry for so obviously brushing her off, but he doesn’t care even close to enough. He sets the coffee down on the table and rounds to the board where one of several maps is taped. On autopilot he draws lines between dump sites because one of the background tabs had deduced, while he was busy watching you like porn, that the distance between dump sites form the beginnings of the constellation Orion with some mathematical precision that’s too exacting to be coincidental. Orion’s Belt plus the most recent victim. Betelgeuse. 

There are ten formally named stars that make up Orion. He marks all of them, but circles the transposed coordinates of Bellatrix, Saiph, Rigel and Meissa as the next most likely dump sites. Most probably it will be Orion’s head. They’re all in wooded areas. He calls Garcia. Garcia will call Emily, wherever she is. If the unsub sticks to pattern, which they always do, they have until midnight. It’s trite, really. Predictable, like people always are. Far too quickly he drinks half the cup of scalding coffee and retraces his steps through the office to find the bathroom. 

It’s empty. The fluorescent lights hum. Spencer washes his hands with cold water and presses still wet fingers to his eyes. You’re waiting for him behind the black of his lids.

At first you would whine, and he would kiss you and you’d moan into his mouth and say his name when he opened you up as far as you would go. The air would be thick and warm with sex and vanilla perfume. Afterwards he’d take care of you and buy new sheets for his bed in your favorite color even if they didn’t match the walls and there would be nothing you’d want for that he couldn’t give to you ever again. 

But. 

That’s all contingent. 

No matter how often he fantasizes about it, no matter in how much detail, and regardless of how often those details change wildly, one thing always stays the same. 

The shape of your lips, swollen from kissing, bending around five or six vowels and only two consonants (it seems odd that there are only two consonants in I love you), sometimes before you start, sometimes in the middle or right at the peak—but always there, always moving in slow motion—and always silent.

In real life, they’d be aloud. It’s why his fantasies aren’t good enough. It’s why he can’t stop fantasizing about it. That’s the only part that really matters to him. The rest varies. 

Not because having sex with you doesn’t matter—it matters so much he almost shatters his molars whenever he starts picturing it around other people. But because Spencer can’t have sex with you until you love him. 

And he worries that you can’t love him until you have sex with him. 

The last time he thought that about a person, it didn’t turn out well.

Maybe there is some magic number. Some amount of times you need to have sex with someone before they’ll love you back. 

If there is, he knows for a fact it’s more than 32.

And he also knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he cannot have loveless sex with you thirty three times while he waits to find out. 

Not again. 

But he's going to hold out as long as he possibly can until you say it because he so badly wants you to love him back. He'll let the weight of every ignored text, every reminder that you don't feel that way about him, hang from his shoulders until he collapses. And then he'll probably try to get back up.

Recycled paper towels scratch against his skin. He dries his face and hands and throws them crumpled into the trash can. 

Outside the restroom, he pulls out his phone. For safety reasons and paranoia disguised as professionalism, you’re not his lock screen. It’s a photo of the Andromeda Galaxy. Whatever distance lies between you and Spencer, it could always be greater. No matter where you are in the world, you will always be the same 2.537 million light years away from Andromeda that he is. 

It makes Orion feel much closer. You, too. 

He sends you a text—the third message in a row. 

The distance between blue bubbles feels like light years. 

I’ll be home tomorrow. I miss you. 

[deadghosy]

How would (Separate) Hazbin hotel (Demons &Angel) react to a green thumb gardener whose elegant, classy and attractive and she went to hell by mistake but it was a happy one (She's not completely weak as she has her plant to protect her and everything)

HAZBIN HOTEL X GARDENER! READER

prompt: a common mistake made demons and angels swoon over a gardener who just wants to take care of her/his plants

cw! Sir Pentious is alive for this so he can witness your beauty in flowers💗

note! I listened to Lana Del Rey while making this lol.

HELL

You didn’t know you were supposed to be in heaven as you started your own flower shop. It was the biggest know hell flower store with actual flowers.

You were practically poison ivy, but more kind and definitely calmer. Hell, even some of your regulars call you poison ivy. Mostly because if people touch you metaphorically the wrong way, then you technically show them a harsher side of you. Literally, a plant impaled a sinner trying to rob your store. 

What you didn’t except to get friends or even people interested into you as you just have a normal as shop you dreamed of before dying.

“Welcome to my flower shop, what can I help you with?” You said with a soft smile as a flower vine is watering other flowers in the background. Some imps, sinners, and hell borns go all the way to just see you and your flowers.

I can see you wearing a flower crown or just flowers in your hair. Like dead ass giving rapunzel. Possibly so, your alive flowers and vines had made that for you as you worked.

You most definitely wear those cute gardening outfits like overalls or those dresses if you prefer one of them or both.

See this is what I can imagine, I can imagine the whole damn hotel having a flower competition and you show up with a big ass plant with a neat pink bow on it 😭. You definitely had a smile as you drank tea with a secret smirk.

I can see you visiting the hotel Charlie has as she invited you to do some flower decor for a reopening of the hotel.

Imagine how pissed you were when a couple of sinners came in to make your shop look like shit. But you wasn’t gonna stand for it as you raised your hand grabbing the sinners by their necks with vines. “If you want flowers, I wouldn’t mind making you a funeral for you to have some.” You said with venom as the sinner practically shitted themselves as they were thrown out the windows of your shop.

A sinner had thrown a Molotov cocktail once in your shop all because he thought it was weird to have a “girly” flower shop in hell. As the fire spreads in your shop, you sighed having plant vines cover you in a big ball as one of the vine slither to find the culprit. After finding the culprit, you forced them to clean your shop since killing someone for such a petty crime like that in your opinion isn’t worth killing. You can always make a new shop and fix it.

Vaggie most definitely knows you as you hooked her up with flowers that Charlie might like. You told her Charlie seems like a simple girl would just like roses since they represent romance. And basically it was Vaggie and Charlie’s date night. And it was a success.

Angel dust loves how you don’t judge him for who he is by his work. But he definitely loves how you two gossip over some tea, well he drinks while you drink tea or water. You are like an older sister/brother figure to him. He loves resting in your bean bag you have in the back, he could just come in and and lay down straight.

I headcannon your whole palette to be like green, pink, yellow and white. Literally just spring ass colors to seem classy with your flower shop.

I can imagine you having the personality of applejack but more of a flower and gardening person as gardener! Reader were most definitely born in the south. Like I can imagine reader to be a mix of applejack, rarity, fluttershy but 100% of applejack’s honesty and a lot of Rarity’s elegance.

Niffty adores you! Literally she goes in your store to rant about she wants the hotel to smell fresh and ready. And you hook a sista up with how you give her scented plug in. She immediately starts worshipping you like Alastor which makes Alastor raise a brow seeing a shine of you in her room and drawings of you.

Charlie immediately loves how vaggie and angel ador you and find you as a loyal friend. She would love to have you at the hotel as a resident. She could even beg Alastor or her dad to make a flower shop for you to even stay longer by briding. She would also try to become your friend for her to succeed.

Sir Pentious went to your store to apologize again to Alastor as he felt that Alastor didn’t forgave him. He was scared you weren’t a kind “sinner” that only had a flower shop to scam people for their money. But when you spoke with kindness and care towards the snake demon. He felt calm in your presence, to the point when he got his flowers. He gave you one which made you smile at him and put it in your hair. He blushed and ran off.

The egg boiz love too appear in your store as their boss, penthouse is very nervous to talk to such an attractive person like you. You welcome the eggz to your humble store as you give them flowers to give back to the hotel staffs.

Angel and Cherri most definitely asked you to give them flowers to match their personality. You gave them both a Carnation flower which you thought was good for their personality. Or even a Lilly.

Husk kept seeing the crew leave the hotel to see them come back with flowers. He grumble confused at why they kept getting flowers. That is until he asked Charlie, and Charlie ranted about what a beauty and how kind you are. Husk raised a brow thinking you were putting up an act, so he went to see you. Let’s just say he got a rose coming back with a soft smile and a purr.

The Vee’s heard about you, Vox heard about you first and looked you up to see you are a popular florist and gardener with the power of Chlorokinesis. The power to mentally and physically control flowers. Vox smirked hearing about your 5 star rating shop. If it was that high ranked with people commenting it on yelp saying you were the best business to be at. You definitely got his attention at most.

Lucifer went to your store for some flowers to give to his daughter, and when he heard how amazing your store was. He went to se it himself. He definitely felt your pure spirit making him stumble into confusion on why you weren’t in heaven already. But he got his flowers and felt with a cup of tea you gave him. He shortly came back at the end of the day to give you his own flowers as he smiled with a snake smile and left leaving a note that says, “you’re welcome to come stay at the hotel! :)”

Alastor finally decided to meet you after hearing all the good things you did for the hotel and for the staff. He must say he was jealous how you won their hearts so damn quickly. He went to your store to see what’s all the fuss about and got hit with a lavender scent in his nose. He covered it as he wasn’t use to such sweet smell in hell as it’s filled with fire and blood. And there you were sitting there with a smile as warm plate of teas sat by you. You welcomed him as he made chat with you to find your heart pure with gold. He also left with a rose and a genuine smile.

I imagine how sweet you get your own flowers by regulars and your friends at the hotel as they love your passion about plants.

Headcannon on Gardner! Reader to be a Lana Del Rey fan as the song to match her/him is “born to die” 💗🦆

Vox was obviously the first Vee to meet you face to face as he had researched you so many times on the internet to get any scoop of you to only end up with an empty hand. So he decided to see you in person and smile with a charming one to see you greet him with a smile and show him the recommended flowers for loved one and family. He was not into the flowers as he watched the plant vines in the back work like hands. He smirks trying to use his hypnosis, but failed greatly as a flower in a vase covered his sighting of you. Thanks to your plant vines.

Velvette was the second one to come to your store as she was not impressed at how “boring and plain” it was in your shop. She was snarky about the decor and gave you tips on how to make it “pop” in here. You just smiled, and with a snap of your fingers, the decor changed to a more fashionable flower place. It made the female Vee almost drop her jaw and composure. But she can’t let some flower store shock her. So she left with one last snarky comment under her breath.

Valentino definitely came in last to see what was up with your whole popularity of your “business” of flowers as he was so busy working his porn industry. So when he walked in yo see you reaching for some flower seeds to get for a customer. He grabbed your waist, wanting to seem flirty only for it to backfire as a vine punches him away from you. You already knew who this bastard was, and you weren’t gonna let him get you like how he got angel. So during his entire visit at your shop, you made it a living hell. Literally.

I can see the Vee’s coming back every weekday to try and get you to be their little flower pet, but you ain’t buying it. 😘

You most definitely have a vine hammock in the corner of your store as you just sit there and nap during your breaks.

Imagine how cool and sweet you are to the imp and hell born children that come to visit your store for father day and mother day. Hell, even valentines days

I can headcannon that gardener! Reader has once in their hell life down there had to drag out a rude Karen ass bitch by their hair. You fuck with their plants, you fuck with them.

Imagine how chill you are just sipping tea as your plants and vines attack some dude trying to steal your sunflower seeds. Yeah, no one gets out without being traumatized by plants 😍

You came into the hotel once and immediately got love bombed by everyone. But not in a manipulate way, they just appreciate how amazing you are to people even the staff at most. They go as far to throw you a “welcoming” party 💗

Lucifer had most definitely sent ducks with mini flower crowns and a Gardner duck to you as he finds you very elegant and beautiful in your own way. He even accidentally tries to court you with his wings when he leans against at the front desk of your store staring into your eyes.

HEAVEN

Adam had eventually was sent to take you back into heaven as sera realized her mistake. You willingly went with Adam who smirked at your sweet smile and took you up by your hand. Like, let’s say whatever happened in the hell section didn’t happen as you just had a bad time in hell itself.

St. Peter immediately greets you, making feel welcome to your new home. He even baked you cookies with a smiley face. He tries to make chit chat with you when he isn’t on duty getting people into the gates. He literally visits your workplace in the flower store you own, bringing cookies, making sure you are okay. Hell-, I meannn heaven gods..he must be a househusband cause GYATT DAMN this man is making sure you are well and healthy in heaven’s care. 💗💗

Sera most definitely have showed you around heaven with a please smile to see a Gardner. You would’ve been great for the Garden of Eden, is what she says in her head as you smile at the trees and potted plants around. You even showed the seraphim your powers, and she must say that she was pleased and made you a gardener around heaven and even your own garden shop and house.

Emily most definitely tries to go visit you everyday to try and find flowers that match you so you can be surprise when she buys you flowers herself. You and Emily definitely have a sibling relationship at most because of how she looks up to you in a gardening way as she also wants to impress you by making her own garden and green house. She also makes sure you take breaks as she wants to help with the customers as you take a break in the back. Your friendship with her is so wholesome and lovely.

Adam likes how classy you are, you don’t even cuss him out when you are angry at him. You just put your hand in his face and walk away. Sassy, but classy enough to not curse someone the fuck out. Yeah sure that might’ve turned him on a bit at how hot and “bitchy” that was of you. Cause no one has ever rejected the “Dickmaster”. So it was his duty to make you his friend…sorta😨. But it’s all fun and games at how you guys are like frenemies at most since Adam actually can’t stand you, but still flirts at how attractive and kind you are. Hell even strong minded.

The angels absolutely love coming in your store! They find every single plant and flower you made incredible. You practically almost run out of business when it’s Valentine’s Day, Mother’s Day, and Father’s Day. But you can’t complain when they leave so much heaven bucks for you to get more plant seeds and such. The angels also love how pure of gold your heart is as you even give some off free for the heaven borns and winners.

Big headcannon on how your Gardner outfit in heaven, the palette is a soft green and pink pastel. But Adam and Sera had thought about you wearing a gold, white, and blue type of Gardner outfit. They want you to stay pure and mighty.

OOOH IMAGINE HAVING CUTE ASS WHITE GLOVES 😭😭 LIKE THEY HAVE THOSE STITCHED IN GOLD THREADS AND LIKE THEY ARE SO CUTE AND COMFY INSIDEEE💗💗

Since i headcannon that Gardner! Reader to be a damn Lana Del Rey fan, their song that matches them in heaven is “young and beautiful.” As you are young and beautiful and mostly, you’re in heaven.

Literally imagine Adam just shows up to just degrade you, but it doesn’t work as you just sit there reading your daily newspaper or on your phone to just see plant and gardening instagram from earth and heaven. Adam pouts or even scoffs before taking your phone and acting like a fussy cat wanting attention.

You really don’t give a fuck about Adam but he definitely gives a fuck about you.

The angels sometimes ships you with Adam, but they also ship you with st.peter at how he is basically the house husband and you are the girl boss who works their ass off😭

Lute and Adam are definitely the type to be those teens who visit their local market..dead ass when they are free they just come to your store and just start “window shopping”…but really they just either want to mess with you or actually know about your day.

I can see you literally just chilling, and Adam busts open the store door that has that jingle bell on it so harsh and all he says is. “Wassup bitch!” With his usual grin and a soda cup as you just groan annoyed.

St.peter literally tried to work beside you ok his days off to just see how “calming” your job is. Until rush hour comes😭 that’s when hell itself unleashes with people wanting to grab any scented flower candles and flowers for theirselves. Have mercy on Peter’s soul that he doesn’t get grabbed and clawed all because he said that the last product was in the back. 😭😭

Imagine how cute your damn angel wings must be. Cause I imagine them to be some god damn fairy wings to match a beautiful aesthetic with your flower and gardening store.

I headcannon you actually had thrown Adam like how vaggie thrown the staff like in the episode of “scramble eggs.”

lol I can see you just slapping Adam with your plant vine because of one misogynist joke he made. He had the most whip lashed mark on his face. He stopped making those fücking jokes like that as he just flinches as a vine comes near him. “WALK HIM LIKE A DOGGG!!” 😘😍

Sera loves gaining flowers from you as the angelic guards bring them in as she is doing her work.

Emily also feels the same way as she smiles and makes the guard send you flowers as well for a thank you. 💗🥺 please give this sweet baby a note back saying you appreciate her damn note so much..

Imagine having a whole tea and cookie station by your front desk where people pay. Like they get a nice drink and a snack in case they were hungry and thirsty from their trip to here. 😘☀️ you care about your customers and regulars deeply.

St. Peter had one time mistook the glass doors to be opened and fell back so dramatically onto his ass, he might as well confirm himself as dead 💀

Emily most definitely actually tried to grow a plant or flower to show you how much she learnt from you, only for the damn thing to fail. She wanted to cry and shrivel up in disappointment, but you taught her and help fixed her mistake on what she did at most.

Lute most definitely acts better without Adam, of course she could act better with Adam. It’s just that Adam is her home dog, and she is Adam’s homegirl. So of course they are besties. So with Adam not interfering with you and lute talking one on one for the first time. You two get quite long to the point she grabs your hands and smile. Leaving with a flower you gave her.

Your plants just causally changing into the liked flower of the customer or regular due to your plant magic on sensing what flowers they like supposedly💗

Headcannon on how short you are. Literally you are shorter than lute to Adam and Emily. It’s really funny but to you, it’s annoying asf since Adam picks you up like a stray cat found at the front porch ready to be taken in.

Emily and sera would have tea time with you definitely. Or coffee if they prefer. You don’t gossip of course but just lift each other up and talk about hanging out later in the days or weeks later. Heck even the day later maybe if Emily is very eager.

Lute most definitely had thrown flowers in your face as she isn’t use to showing affection towards a person she actually admires. Yeah she admires Adam, as a boss and best friend. But there is something about you that makes her stumble on her words.

You had to actually stay home once, forced by sera who got told by Adam you were overworking yourself. Adam and sera hated it as sera showed go to your job looking serious. Forcing you to stay in bed until you had a good sleep for the week.

Imagine just gardener! Reader literally accidentally making Adam spit out a four leaf clover as they were saying a spell in Latin to have four leaf clovers for St. Patrick’s day.

I headcannon Adam sometimes tries to court you with his wings, and you are confused as hell as you aren’t use to being courted by some fucking feathers.

I can see you having a potted plant pet beside you. It was practically a sapling as it smiled with heaven magic and told positive affirmations to waking customers. It’s so fuckin adorable

I imagine you just sleeping as your overworked at your store and Adam comes in pissed off you didn’t come home. So he literally picks you up over his shoulder and walks Home. He has the damn key to your house but he decides to just go to his house and lay you on his bed as he sleeps on the couch grumbling.

St.Peter, after that little incident with him walking into a glass door. This mofo literally puts his hands out towards any glass door 😭 like a little kid being traumatized after a glass maze. It’s so funny but so sad.

A young heaven born had brought you back a freaking flower crown in your most favorite flowers and you were so amazed. You gave the small little angel a flower crown of their own.

The visits are always welcomed to your store as Adam brings you his own set of flowers to try to impress you. 💗 you snickered seeing the note that says, “i hope you like it..bitch. *middle finger drawing* I heard this plant was your favorite.” Sweet, but sour ass motherfuker. 😭😭

[puptrefied]

cw: dub-con,　fingering,　sev’s mechanic arm vibrates,　 degradation,　 hair pulling, 　 overstimulation,　 cunnilingus (r!giving), no aftercare at all. | 2,3k words, barely proofread I'm sorry.

　coming back to the last drop after a rough deal, five in the goddamn morning, wiping blood that isn't hers off her clothes, a nasty cut on her cheek, thick eyebrows positioned into a nasty frown, a bottle of strong liquor she took from the counter ( even if the bar was open, the bartender would have not stopped her ) on her metallic hand as she went upstairs into silco's office, knocking heavily on the door, ready to speak about how jinx—living up to her name—almost turned the guy who's the usual contact for shimmer distribution into bones and ashes for whatever reason when she wasn't even supposed to be there, is definitely the worst part of sevika's job.

little shit, always getting on her nerves. sevika just wants to smack some sense into that fucked up brain but silco's the only thing that keeps her from doing so.

and of course she had to clean after the bluenette.

after all, you can't attack a trafficker without consequences. an eye for an eye turned quite literal when the man's eye popped because one of the window crystals from jinx's explosion flew right onto it and his men tried to jump at sevika. ‘bit stupid if you ask me…yes, their boss almost died and all but did they really think they could take this woman down with a few weak punches? they lack common sense, apparently.

now the drug dealer has one eye and five men nearly dead.

oh, great, just what she needed—silco is not even in his office. she wants to break something and rip her hair out.

“sevika? didn't see you coming in.” right, sometimes she forgets you come clean the mess the people at the bar make. taking care of the alcohol, the drugs, the shattered glasses, the unknown fluids, etc, that can be found on every corner just so they can do it all again the next day. cleaning up jinx's mess seems like nothing compared to your job. “everyone left already.”

she looks up from the couch to the door where you are standing with a surprisingly warm smile for someone who's working so early in the morning—god knows when your shift even started.

“silco also left like an hour ago, I was hoping I could secretly clean his office because it smells a little… funky.” you laughed gesturing to the mop on your hand before walking into the room, turning your back at sevika while picking up some bright neon, spray painted decoration from the floor to put it on his desk again. focused on getting the job done since she didn't seem in the mood to talk. ( rude but makes sense. )

how is the poor, pent up woman supposed to resist that heaven-sent view?

hand suddenly on your waist as she took one final swing of the strong liquor, pulling you closer even if you gasped and automatically tried to pull away. when did she even get up from the couch? “stay still.” she warned putting the bottle down on his desk to hold your hips more firmly against her front.

“I probably should go clean somewhere—” she could only scoff at your nervous words. yeah, like she'd want you to leave right now when all she needs is someone to pour her stress onto.

“shut up, what did I just say? stay still.”

this woman is one rough motherfucker and that applies to every aspect of her life, as you can tell by how tightly she's gripping at your hips as she moves you to bend over silco's desk. her calloused hand swiping away most of his stuff away, making sure your torso is flush against the wooden—and still dusty—surface, her fingers tangle themselves on your hair to keep your head down.

your legs go just a little weak. but hey, it's just you being tired from cleaning for hours now!

…or maybe it's the wall of pure muscle behind you sliding her mechanic hand under your pants, tracing your panties while she keeps talking.

“been a long fucking night.” her face buried itself on your neck, not even kissing the skin before nibbling on it. why would she? she doesn't owe you any gentleness. her body weight pressing you forward—the action making sure you can feel the cool metal of her fingers. the sharp tips lightly scratching the fabric of your underwear in a way that shouldn't feel this good, especially in the current circumstances but oh, well.

“are you stupid or deaf?” she pulled on your hair a little before pushing your head back down on the desk when she felt your hips moving away from her as soon as her arm made a loud mechanical sound, the rather strong vibration coming right after making you shudder.

you didn't mean to move like that, lifting your hips away from her, but you couldn't help it! the vibration was so out of nowhere it startled you. who's fault is that, hm? definitely sevika's. but I wouldn't say that out loud if I were you—you know, keeping in mind there's still blood that isn't hers on her clothes and body. just saying.

“hey, wait—”

your protests meaning nothing to her as she tugged ( ripped ) your pants and underwear down. “look at that, you whine but you're getting wet?” the most mocking scoff ever coming out of her lips while she pressed her vibrating fingers even more firmly on your now bare clit.

“it's not that much, you're just weak. get over it.”

she's right, it does feel like you're getting weaker by the second. the feeling getting more overwhelming as she gets meaner. “never thought of quitting? cleaning is definitely not your job, the brothel would work way better.” she's infuriatingly good at talking though, it's annoying.

“i mean, look at you. I'm sure people would pay more to see this ass than what silco does for you to clean his shit.” she squeezed one cheek to emphasize her own point, giving a slap to watch it jiggle, her lower lip caught with her teeth at the sight. she could get used to it, actually.

“there we go, see? wasn't so hard to keep quiet.” her fingers are no longer cold, now sticky and warm from your body heat—body heat she proudly increased by the way—while her hand starts to move back and forth to cause more sensations, moans and trembles.

you feel like it's too much? oh, baby, she hasn't done anything yet!

you realize she's actually doing something when you notice her sliding two thick fingers—lucky for you, real ones instead of the sharp prosthetics—stretching you out without a single warning as the vibration on your clit does not cease at all.

the wet sounds combined with the slap of skin and buzzing coming from in between your legs absolutely obscene in a way that's fucking humiliating. god, you shouldn't be this horny for a woman that treats you like a hooker she found in an alley but it would be a terrible lie if you said it didn't make your lower belly burn and tingle in a way you've felt before, but definitely not with that intensity.

her scent—blood, sweat, and that funky, smoky tang that always clings to her—feels pretty intoxicating, to the point it's impossible to think straight.

you bit your lip, frustrated at the way your own body seems to betray you with the moans you fail to hold back. no amount of deep breaths able to help you. the mixture of pleasure and pain seems to blur together, forcing an embarrassingly whiny whimper to escape before you can even stop it.

“what's wrong?” sevika murmurs with a mocking chuckle, her fingers curling just right, pressing against your g-spot as if she knew your body better than you and honestly with the amount of experience she has, she might as well. “guess you like being treated like a common whore, huh, is that it?”

heat goes straight to your cheeks and down yourq back at her words, and yet again your body completely ignores your internal struggles, hips rocking against her hand despite your best efforts to stay still. she noticed, of course she did, using that to give a punishing thrust that suddenly feels way too deep.

“yeah, that's what I thought,” she scoffed, voice dripping with disdain, but her movements became more purposeful. her metallic fingers pressed firmly against your clit with no mercy, the vibrations and the movements had you clutching at the edge of the desk.

“look at you,” sevika muttered, more to herself than you, as if fascinated by the way your body responds to her rough thrusts. “maybe I'll keep you here, bent over silco's desk, let him walk in and see what a filthy slut you are.”

the thought sent a jolt of humiliation and twisted excitement through you, and sevika definitely feels it, her lips turn into the most asshol-smirk you've ever seen ( if you were able to ), and she speeds up, the wet, obscene sounds of her fingers working you echoing in the small office.

"go on," she said, "are you gonna keep pretending you don't like it?"

sevika doesn't even think about slowing down as she felt the way your walls squeezed her tight enough to earn a small groan from her—your moans being her motivation to keep going through your orgasm—drawing every last tremor from your body until you're left breathless and boneless, slumped over the desk.

she finally pulled out after god knows how long, her fingers sticky and wet from your fluids. sevika raised them to her lips, absolutely shameless, eyes locked on yours as she licked the digits clean with a deliberate, slow drag of her tongue, enjoying the dazed expression on your pretty face while you panted.

“come on, to the floor.” oh, lord, she's still going?

she sat on the couch, pants lowered to her ankles before you could even register her words. shaky legs doing the best they can when you kneeled down in between her thighs. so tired that taking a nap on ‘em seems like the best idea ever, but you can't do that now—not when she's already manspread there, waiting with a cigar on her lips ( probably stole it from silco's desk or something, everything’s happening way to quick for your brain to comprehend ) while casually lighting it up like she didn't just rearrange your guts with her fingers.

free hand wrapping around your hair again, this time guiding your face to her lower abdomen, soft lips pressed on the happy trail that decorated her sweaty skin in a way that now felt sinfully good. “open.”

how could you say no when she's looking down at you like that, making you eat her out as she exhales the heavy smoke?

a low groan, almost imperceptible to your ears covered by her thighs, comes out of her when she finally feels your mouth trail down and down and down, her legs spreading further so you can taste her better.

the scent of her mixed with the smell of cigar was all you could notice. her grip on your hair tightens, not enough to truly hurt, but enough to remind you where you are. half naked, wet and sticky inner thighs, now a sticky mouth, kneeling down on some floor you were supposed to be cleaning while eating the pussy of a 185cm tall woman who disfigured a group of men a few hours ago.

almost in a trance, your lips part, tongue darting out to give her a tentative lick. the taste is overwhelming, consuming your senses until nearly all you can focus on is the feel of sevika,the taste of sevika, the scent of sevika. “that’s it, knew you were playing dumb.” huh, who would've thought you'd be doing this and liking it?

your tongue took another swipe at her dripping slit, this time lingering longer, trying to get deeper. a husky moan from her motivating you to keep going.

at the light twitch on her hips, you vary your technique—going from licking long stripes up and down to swirling your tongue around her already sensitive clit, before dragging it lower to spear into her weeping entrance. the sound of her breathing turns ragged as you lost yourself in the act of pleasing her, of tasting her, of being the cause of such raw feelings.

her hips start to move, grinding her achingly greedy cunt against your face, you grabbed at the tensing muscles on her thighs for support meanwhile she basically used your face like a toy for her own pleasure. not caring if you can breath or not. smearing your lips and chin with her own fluids just like you did with her hand. ( was it revenge? probably not since it's a win-win situation for sevika. )

lost in a haze of sensations, you barely register the heavy, strong hand pressing down on the back of your head, holding you in place—forcing you to feel every clench and twitch. the world narrows down to the taste of her, the scent of her, the feel of her, until you can barely recall why you ever resisted the idea of doing what she says.

oh?

oh.

she did not just come, make you lick all of it and then push you away. ( she absolutely just did, the motherfucker. )

“okay, that's it, enough.” the fucking audacity to get up, fix her pants and just leave you there, sat on the cold floor as if you were a simple stray dog who got its five minutes of petting from a stranger. “clean up the mess you made.”

“hold on—”

she just left without even listening?! great, now you're stuck having clean a messy desk, pick up the paperwork from the floor, your own panties and pants and having to get rid of the wet, creamy stain on silco's couch that apparently ‘you’ made as if it wasn't sevika's cum.

what a rollercoaster of a night.

masterlist

[yunniverse]

Risky

౨ৎ PAIRING— world z!jung wooyoung x reader

౨ৎ GENRE— angst, danger, fem!reader

౨ৎ WARNINGS— angst, mentions of wounds and blood, world z

౨ৎ WORD COUNT- 2.3k

౨ৎ SUMMARY- wooyoung finds himself wounded and in need of help. luckily, you quite literally bump into him on the street.

౨ৎ A/N- my first wooyoung story! i hope you all enjoy, and lmk what you think :)

Wooyoung knows he messed up, that he wasn’t careful, that he should have taken Yunho up on the offer of backup. Right now, however, he can’t think about much besides getting somewhere safe to examine his injuries.

He needs to find someone he knows, preferably not the authorities, who also know him quite well by now, and not in a good way.

He hisses as he falls against the side of a wall once again, his side pulsing with pain, his head spinning. He still has the fake mask on, donning a different identity, one that was supposed to keep him hidden.

Unfortunately, he had been stupid and it had cost him. Hong Joong is going to kill him if his wounds don’t kill him first 

With a sharp intake of breath, Wooyoung stands shakily to his feet again, his muscles sore and his vision blurry.

He hasn’t been able to take the face covering off, and he’s honestly scared too, since he can feel that his lip is busted, and he doesn’t know what the rest of his face could look like.

“Watch out!” someone shouts, making Wooyoung look up just slightly too late. With a grunt, he falls to the ground, earning a gasp from the person he had bumped into.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” he hears a girl’s voice exclaim as she bends to help him up. “I should have been paying more attention, but the groceries were kind of blocking my vision, and then you came up a little too fast.”

Wooyoung’s head is spinning as the girl talks, and, before he can stop himself, he shushes her, a hand moving to his head.

The girl���s eyes widen as she stops, gently gripping Wooyoung’s arm, “Are you hurt? I didn’t mean to actually hurt you!”

“I’m fine,” he clenches his jaw, trying his best not to cry out at the pain in his side, which is only worse now that the girl had bumped into him.

“Do you need help? My house is just down the block, if you want.” Wooyoung glances up at the girl, weighing his options. It would be a good way to get off the streets, but it would be a risk in itself if she finds out who he really is. He does have the mask on, though.

Without really thinking, he responds, “Yeah, thanks.”

~~

It was just your luck to bump into a middle-aged man on the street and injure him. You silently scold yourself as you help him to your house.

In hindsight, it’s probably not a great idea to invite a stranger into your house, especially considering the black pirates who are roaming around, but you owe this man something for hurting him.

“I’m really sorry,” you repeat, as you open your door, carefully ushering him inside. “If you tell me exactly what hurts, I can get my first aid kit.”

“Uh,” he falters, glancing outside your window when one of the android soldiers walks by, and you furrow your eyebrows, noticing the tension in his shoulders.

“They patrol after sundown now,” you comment, making him turn to look at you. “They’re kinda creepy, aren’t they?” He nods silently before wincing slightly as he takes a seat on your couch. “I’m just glad they’re not after me,” you add.

He nods again, a hand moving to grip his side, almost like its subconscious. “Did I hit your side too?” you ask, wondering how you did so much damage with just what seemed like a harmless, small bump.

“A little,” he responds, his gaze facing the window again, almost apprehensively.

“Have you had a bad run-in with the android soldiers?” you risk asking, wondering if he was one of the ones taken by them at some point.

“Huh?” he turns to you, eyebrows furrowed.

“I asked if you’ve had trouble with them,” you repeat, wondering if he has bad hearing or something.

“A little trouble, yeah,” he replies, swallowing, wincing when he puts a little too much pressure on his side.

“I’ll get the first aid kit,” you tell him after putting your groceries in the fridge.

When you leave, Wooyoung lets out a groan, the combination of his pounding headache, the pain in his side, and the rubber facemask sticking to his skin making him feel sick. He can’t take it off, though, no matter how much he wishes he could.

Hearing a sound outside, his gaze snaps to the window, where one of the android soldiers is standing, staring in at him. Wooyoung freezes, risking a glance to where you walked off before looking back at the window. The soldier is gone.

“I found it!” you exclaim, entering the room again, carrying your first aid kit. “You don’t mind me checking, do you?”

Wooyoung thinks for a moment, worried about you finding out he isn’t who he looks like he is, but he still nods, knowing he needs help.

“Good,” you smile, walking over to him. “I’ll need you to move your hand, though.”

Closing his eyes for a moment, he slowly removes his hand, wincing when you gasp. “You’re bleeding!” you start to panic, wondering how you hurt him that bad.

“It’s not that bad, I promise,” he responds, offering you a half-smile. “I have thin blood.”

“H-How did it happen, though?” you’re flustered, beyond worried now. “I didn’t think I hit your side!”

“When I fell, I scraped it, I think,” Wooyoung makes something up, hoping it’s believable.

“Hm,” you hum, slightly suspicious. To you, it looks like a bullet wound. And with his uneasiness around the android soldier, you’re a little worried that he could be one of the black pirates. The news had warned about them being disguised. It couldn’t be, could it?

“Can I…?” you trail off, gesturing toward his shirt. He slowly nods, looking a little uneasy.

You watch him carefully as you lift the bottom edge of the shirt, a little confused that his body doesn’t seem to match his age, not that you’re judging. “Did you get shot?” you ask, sounding a little blunt.

“Uh,” Wooyoung falters, nodding slightly.

“So you have had a run-in with the soldiers?” you ask, suddenly even more suspicious.

He nods, sighing, wondering how much longer he can keep up the charade. He weighs his options, wondering is he should just bolt for the door, but his wounds would probably prevent that.

“Are you…” you trail off, backing away from him slightly. “Are you one of those black pirates?”

“If I was?” Wooyoung snaps suddenly, taking you aback.

“If you were, it’d be in my good interest to report you to the authorities,” you reply, crossing your arms.

“The authorities?” Wooyoung responds, sighing, knowing he’s really messed up now.

“So, it’d be in your good interest to tell me now before I alert that android guard out there and turn you in regardless,” you threaten, knowing you’re being a little harsh for not even knowing if he’s really a black pirate or not.

“Don’t do that,” he responds, knowing he’s going to have more than one reason for Hong Joong to kill him after he leaves here, if he leaves at this point.

Slowly, Wooyoung lifts his hands to his neck, pulling off the mask. You gasp, partially from the fact that you weren’t expecting him to pull his face off, and partially from the fact that you weren’t expecting him to be this handsome, even with a busted lip and bruises.

With a start, you snap back into attention, scolding yourself for getting carried away. “So you are one of them?” you ask, watching him carefully.

Wooyoung frowns, running a hand through his dark hair, sighing, “What do you think?”

“I think you are,” you respond slowly. “I recognize you from the TV.”

“Of course you do,” he mutters under his breath, his hand moving back to his side, wincing at the pain, which has only increased.

“So why were you on the street?” you ask, confused. “Shouldn’t you be in hiding or something?”

“Yeah, well, a rebellion doesn’t start by itself,” Wooyoung laughs airily.

Moving toward the window, you close the curtains, not really sure why you’re trying to help him. “You know, I was warned about you,” you comment, taking a few steps closer to him.

“Wasn’t everyone?” he asks, glaring up at you.

“No need to be so hostile,” you respond. “I haven’t turned you in… yet.”

“Why don’t you just go ahead?” Wooyoung asks, a little confused. “I’m sure there’s quite a price on my head by now.”

“I’m not exactly against you, you know,” you reply, biting your lip. “I’m just against your way of going about things.” 

“What?” Wooyoung asks, taken aback and even more confused.

“I don’t like your group’s violence, but I like the android guards less, so I’m willing to help,” you admit, causing Wooyoung to stare at you, shocked.

“You’re passing up the opportunity to be rich in reward money?” he asks, tentative.

“Do you want me to accept the reward money?” you ask, to which he promptly shakes his head.

“Of course, not,” he scoffs. “I’m just confused.”

“We’ll, don’t make me change my mind,” you warn, grabbing your first aid kit and walking closer to him again. “I really do need to dress this wound, though.”

“Should I trust you to not just kill me?” Wooyoung asks, skeptical.

You gasp, “I’m not a killer! You may be, but I’m not.”

Wooyoung grabs your wrist suddenly, making your eyes widen at the harsh grip, your gaze snapping to his. “Don’t make assumptions about people you don’t understand,” he snaps, voice low.

You pull your arm from his grasp, frightened, “S-Sorry.”

He sighs, leaning back and closing his eyes, a hand lifting to his head to rub it, “Whatever.”

“I really do want to help you,” you tell him softly, hoping he won’t snap again.

“Yeah?” Wooyoung asks, his brown eyes locking with yours again, this time a little bit of vulnerability behind his gaze.

“Yeah,” you breathe, nodding slightly. He nods in return, giving you the go ahead. Kneeling in front of him, you get to work.

After a few moments of silence, you risk a question. “What’s your name?”

“I shouldn’t tell you, considering my situation,” he responds, frowning. “But, since you’re not turning me in, I guess I owe you somewhat.”

“You kinda do,” you laugh slightly, disinfecting the bullet wound, which, luckily doesn’t have a bullet in it anymore. It must have gone all the way through.

“Wooyoung,” he tells you softly, to which you smile a little.

“I’m Y/N,” you respond.

“It’s a pretty name,” Wooyoung replies, offering you a small smirk, though it still looks a little pained.

“Are you flirting with me?” you quirk an eyebrow, slightly disbelieving.

“If I was?” Wooyoung responds, repeating the question from earlier, only now it has a different meaning and tone. You only laugh, surprised you’re even able to laugh with a criminal in your living room, though something about him seems different from regular criminals.

“What are you guys planning?” you ask, wondering if he’ll answer.

“Why do you want to know?” Wooyoung responds, suspicious. “You could just tell the authorities what we’re planning.”

“What if I want to join you?” you suddenly ask, surprising even yourself a little.

“Why would you want to do that? You said earlier that you disapprove of us.” Wooyoing scoffs.

“I don’t disapprove of your cause,” you respond.

“Either way,” he winces when you pull the bandage tight around him. “It’s not in my best interest to tell you.”

“Yeah, I understand,” you respond, taking a look at his busted lip. “I have some ointment for your lip, too, if you want some.”

“Sure,” he shrugs, running a hand through his hair again. You feel butterflies erupt in your stomach at the action, and you scold yourself again. You aren’t supposed to find a criminal attractive!

Wooyoung smirks, and you blush, realizing he must have caught you. Grabbing the ointment, you squeeze some onto your finger, moving to dab it on his lip. You ignore the slight shakiness of your hand as Wooyoung parts his lips a little as you finish.

“There you go,” you give him a shy smile.

“Thank you,” he responds before moving to stand.

“Where are you going?” you ask, confused.

“I’ve already stayed here too long,” Wooyoung shakes his head.

“If you leave, you might get caught,” you tell him, following him to the door 

“I could get you caught for harboring a criminal, too,” Wooyoung responds, and you sigh, knowing he’s right.

“Well,” you hesitate as he leans against the wall beside the door. “Be careful, Wooyoung.”

“No promises,” he smiles a real smile for the first time that evening, and you feel the butterflies all over again. As he moves to open the door, you stop him once again, biting your lip.

“Will I see you again?” you question, nervous.

“Do you want to?” he asks, his chocolate brown eyes meeting yours.

After a brief moment of silence, you take in a shaky breath, nodding, “Yeah.”

“Then, maybe,” Wooyoung winks, twisting the doorknob. He stops for a moment, turning to look at you once more. “You know, I don’t think it was entirely a bad thing to run into you tonight.”

“Maybe not,” you smile a little. “Stay safe.” With another quick wink, Wooyoung slips out the door, escaping into the darkness of the night. Glancing at the sky, you notice the dark clouds rolling in.

You cross your arms, rubbing them, suddenly feeling the chill coming from outside.

Whatever happens with the rebellion, you find yourself hoping the black pirates will win, and maybe, just maybe, you’ll get to see Wooyoung again.

With once last look in the direction he left, you turn back to your house, closing the door softly and locking it.

Noticing a small piece of paper on the table beside the couch, you walk over to it, curiously picking it up.

It was a small note, written a little messily. An address. With a quick glance at the door one last time, you weigh your options. What could it be? Do you want to follow it?

Maybe you’ve been silent for too long. What should you choose?

[keelt9]

TICK TACK

Masterlist

A/N: I don’t know but yeah, I see Oscar on leading for a while… plus I’m optimistic for the championship.

Should I post part 2? 😏

She didn’t mean to fail the last exam, forcing her to sentence her subject and the last semester of her career. Still, there she is sitting as she taps the wooden floor with her best friend giving her all the support she could.

“I still don’t get it.” Gema said seeing down where the last group of students are answering the exam as the other two groups remind up there of the auditorium, waiting.

That’s how Doctor Thurpin works, you fail a test and if you want it back that grade, he gladly will wait for you the next weekend, literally weekend because he, quote, likes the Sunday for a good and refreshing replacement of exam.

“You are so good at this. How do you fail?” Gema sentences looking around the people who are tired and impatient for Mr. Thurpin, started to grade.

Y/N tosses her hair in desperation.

“I DON’T!” The room full of shh as the eagle eyes of Mr. Truphin makes her scream in silence. “It was the GP of Bahrain, I stayed awake until 4 in the morning and I woke up at 7 am.”

She scoffs, still hard to believe how life is playing tricks with her. “At that hour the exam begins, I fall asleep.”

Running and with different shoes, she arrived at a closed classroom hoping for mercy but Mr. Thurpin only pointed to his watch through the windows before waving his hand.

“Talking with Oscar, huh?” 

For Gema it is still hard to believe, if three years ago someone told her on a random day she found the one and only Oscar Pastri coming out of the bedroom on the 4th floor of their dormitory as her best friend grabbing his hand, she would call them crazy.

Until her eyes witness. Gema left the dormitory that weekend to spend a few days with her family, Y/N told her she had a lot of homework so she will be staying, she forgot to mention her homework, which is called Oscar Piastri.

Almost a heart attack after, she discovers that weekend her best friend made official the relationship with a boy she met on a casual day, last summer, as she helps her mother in the store they had next to the beach. 

“I wish. Actually, I was waiting for his call.” She smiles, lighting up the screen of his phone. “But the press conferences kept him busy.”

A photo of Oscar with his first trophy, the first win.  

“By the way, thanks for changing my flight.” Y/N said to tangle her arm with her best friend. 

She was supposed to be in the airport taking a flight to Saudi Arabia for the grand prix, instead of waiting for a grade.

Gema takes another gummy. “No worries, I call it good persuasion and family contacts.”

The ringing of the bells announce the end of the exam of the third group, finally Mr. Thurpin will begin to grade under the anxious eyes of his students. 

Taking his damn time like he actually doesn't know every answer.

“I'm freaking out.” Y/N whine seeing another text of Oscar.

 >I couldn't find you! Dinner later?

She doesn't mean to lie to him, however for Oscar she arrived in Saudi Arabia time, early in the morning. 

Watching the free practice and the race from the stands where she said prefers to, otherwise she would freak out hearing him with a lot of numbers and letters on the big screens.

Of course Oscar adapts her choice to the VIP zone, in the stands but in a zone he's able to see her every time he goes down from the car.

But, this Grand Prix is an overwhelming step of what he's capable of doing and he's hungry for the victory. And she doesn't want him being distracted for anything else, of course less for her.

Gema didn't need to read it, the way she hissed as her phone started to spin between her fingers is all she needed for knowing Y/N lied about something.

“He doesn't know, huh?” Gema asks as they hear another person being called for the note.

Y/N let her head down, shaking it. “The race is the most important thing, he must be focused on that.”

Gema has seen how Oscar looks at her, she is essential for him, to be in an important race it’s pure fuel to him.

“You'll be there, don't worry.” Y/N sees her. “Or we can find a way to get you there.”

Gema winks at her.

Oscar is nervous, it's late at night and his message, still with no response, he's not that toxic but it's strange.

The time difference isn't helpful sometimes but she replies no matter the time, this time seems to be the exception.

“All good?” Lando asks as they walk inside of the hotel after dinner together.

Oscar's eyes aren't stuck to his phone but his hand does.

Oscar moves his head around searching among the few people in the lobby.

“Have you seen Y/N?” Oscar asks as Lando smiles seeing his friend so over the clouds.

His non expressive face changes into a breezy smile and bright eyes every time he's with her.

“That clingy, huh?” Lando teases him as he scoffs.

“I haven't seen her, and she hasn't replied, I'm a little worried.” Oscar sees his screen but nothing, just her picture.

Last year, she was in the middle of the paddock doing homework before the qualy, notebook on her lap and headphones over as she heard all the indications to Oscar, she jokes with him saying it’s her favorite playlist. He owes the photo to one of his engineers.

Ok, for Lando that's weird too. Yeah, she isn't the most searched wag of the paddock but she's nice and lovely plus hates to worry Oscar.

Lando thinks for a second, who could find out something, but he doesn't have a clue.

“If you call her?” The lethal eyes of Oscar is the sign of how stupid his question is.

He already called her…right to the voicemail after the third beep.

The elevator doors open even though he is willing to wait for her; he also knows must sleep early. 

Dragging his feets to the room he gets ready to go inside of the bed with discomfort all the time.

When his phone rings, Y/N is calling.

“Ba…” Oscar begins but she doesn't let him talk.

“I'm sorry, I lied to you.” She hears anger as the audible sound of wheels against the floor calls for his attention. “I… fuck, I couldn't take the plane on time, and the one I had scheduled is cancel…”

Is not hard to imagine her furious sitting next to her suitcase tired as she keeps looking at the screen where the flight status doesn't change at all.

“Are you alright?” The question of Oscar makes her eyes watery, this isn't exactly she refuses to call him, he will say something that makes her want to cry.

Oscar hears the sniff through the call, wanting badly to hold her but he simply can’t. 

After a detailed description of what happened Oscar understood the reason for her silence.

“Love, I already told you if you had more important things to do next day, it’s ok, you don’t need to watch the race.” Oscar said sitting on the bed feeling useless for not being able to do something. 

She’s seeing the planes leaving and arriving from the big crystal walls. “Are you trying to get me more mad?” 

The same times, she told him that she can’t be with him at every race. She likes to think watching the race is the minimum she can do for him, in a way to be with him even in the distance.

“It’s my fault, ok? You know I don’t have trouble with waking up the next day… This time my alarm doesn’t work as it should.” She slipped on the floor one more time. “I’m sorry I can be with you tomorrow.”

“Can you do one thing for me instead?” Oscar smiles at himself. 

Y/N chuckles. “Without a question.”

“Go home, sleep, you probably need it and watch the race tomorrow as you eat something delicious.” She feels her heart squeeze as his tenedernes. “I’ll make sure to fly as soon as I finish everything here. George wouldn't mind giving me a ride.” 

She giggles seeing the same status of her flight: cancel.

“I’m…” 

Oscar shakes his head and cuts her. “One more apology and I swear to you I’m going to be stressed for tomorrow.”

 “NO!” She feels shy when multiple eyes land on her sitting on the floor. “Sleep, and focus on the race, that’s all you need to do.” She breathes in and resigns herself to missing the race. “I’ll be watching you ok?”

Oscar smiles and nods. “I know.”

Y/N plays with the zip of her suitcase. “I love you.” Oscar definitely knows how to comfort her. 

“I love you too, I know we’ll be celebrating you at the top… You’re a monster on track Oscar, believe it.” 

Oscar closes his eyes, seeing the charm he always carries with him, next to the bed.

In the drivers parade he keeps focus, he talks with some pilots but his mind is control and focus, he knows having Max at his side in the first position it’s always a beating risk, still he’s not afraid.

Getting inside of the room, he changes his clothes in calmness, when a knock on the door distracts him. 

Tom, his engineer, appears in the room. “Oscar, let’s go.” 

Oscar nods, watching one last time their photo with a pair of tape at the four corners. 

“She couldn’t come huh?”  Tom knows who Y/N is, he must know the girl who is being so discreet about their relationship, still so unbothered each time she needs to show Oscar how much he cares about him.

“Sometimes I hate the commercial flights!” He shouts in whisper touching the photo before walking to the garage. 

With the last indications of the team Oscar goes inside of the car taking mental notes of the telemetry and the indication of the team.

“Ok, Oscar, radio check.” He hears once he’s inside of the car.

“Copy.” He answers, making sure all inside it’s all right.

“Ok Oscar, before we start we want to run one last test.” Oscar sees in front where all the engineers are but any of them turn around, one last test in the last minutes? “We call it missed assistance.”

Oscar scoff. “Is it legal?”

“It’s a valid test with no virtual witness.” Oscar is more intrigued, but they don't ask him more questions.

“Radio check.” Her voice put in alert all the senses of Oscar scanning over and over the garage in the front part.

He giggles. “Copy.” 

“That advance is technology, huh?” Oscar is sure she never imagined how much he loves her rambling. “Talking through my phone to the helmet of an F1 driver.”

Oscar let his head back under the cheeky eyes of his team. “Not any formula one driver.”

“Right! Sure, I forgot to specify.” She laughs. “Oscar Pastri helmet, which will result in my boyfriend, it's an out of world experience.”

Oscar laughs, at the other side of the garage Lando is shaking his head before going inside of the car, you don’t have to question yourself who is calling him. 

“Now, Tom told me to be short.” She cleared her throat. “Drive safe, focus and it’s useless to say but stay calm, and the most important thing…”

“Have fun.” Even though he refuses to bring that feeling he wishes she could be there to hear those words as she is resting among his arms and her arms around his neck. 

“NO.” She raises her voice. “Win that race!” 

Oscar laughs harder this time. Even Zak can hear him, looking at Tom who has a proud smile on his face. 

“I’m joking.” She stops laughing too. “Have fun, ok?”

“God! I wish you were here.” Oscar whispered.

Before Tom interrupts them. “Ok, baby doves, it’s time, one last word Y/N please.”

“I love you.” Who said it first doesn't even care, the important thing is the last words they heard from each other.

[yanderemommabean]

What if you were a pregnant woman in Fallout, running and trying to get far away from raiders or something/someone else. You are scared and trying to hide it this gloomy and abandoned home only to accidentally found a nest with egs6 and mother Deathclaw. You frozen in shock and fear, not having an idea of what to do in this situation. However the beast didn't tear you apart but comes closer, sniffing you and gently nuzzling you already big stomach. But when the pursuiters found you both, so Deathclaw cover you and her eggs and tears them apart, leaving NO survivers. Mother protects mother.

You just tremble, holding a hand over your stomach in fear as the beast trots closer. Its curious, head tilting here and there as it chuffs and snorts, before it just lays its head on your stomach as well, even seemingly purring. These things can do that?!

You almost sigh in relief, gently scratching the massive beasts head as a thank you, but that crackling of broken glass gets your attention. The fuckers you've been running from found you-seemingly breaking a window in the process as they hollered for you to give up the jet and med-ex you had on hand. You don't though. They're just hellbent on this idea though and have chased you for literally nothing. And you're close to tears, thinking you were about to die either by this angry beast or by psychos. But the deathclaw stands in front of you, roaring loud and deafening, shaking the foundation of the abandoned building as she makes sure it's known. This place is a death trap if they step any closer.

Do they listen? Well no. They aren't the type. They were literally going to kill you for drugs you said you didn't have and proved you didn't have, why would a deadly lizard beast be a threat to those idiots?

Three seconds. It takes three seconds as you turn away and hunch over, holding your stomach with both hands to protect you and your baby. They're scattered, some even eaten whole as their screams are cut off. The next thing you feel is a blood covered nose nudging you, as if to reassure you that you're ok, and it makes sure to push you again when it thinks you didn't notice. How...Cute? Can deathclaw's be cute? Well, you suppose this one can be. And its a hero, oddly enough. To think you fight these things regularly... "Thank you, uh...Ma'am?" you ask, unsure how to address it or give the beast a name. Maybe names can come later? You're exhausted from the entire chase, and thinking death was seconds away. The deathclaw just whuffs, encouraging you to sit down in the rubble-Wait, nest? It's nest right?? Maybe not- and you oblige. She trots away for a moment, sniffing the puddles of blood to make sure the bandits were dead, before taking another bite for good measure. You suck in a breath, but decide to just let that image be locked away for now, needing to rest for you and your baby's sake. Seems the deathclaw agrees, coming to curl around you as she turns her eggs, facing them towards the sun as she grumbles and purrs, making sure you're warm and protected as well as her belly presses to your back.

Maybe this is the beginning of something even stranger, but, for now you decided to just sleep while you can. Who knows when you'll be able to again?

-Mommabean

[tinfoil-jones]

Jerk Ford AU: Silliness III

Congratulations, membership to the (Jerk) Ford Hate Club is now open invite. Take this logo and slap it onto whatever you want;

---

*rocks hitting window sound*

Fiddleford: *looks out of window* Oh for Heavens sake-

Jerk Ford: Stanley fell in the portal and it was destroyed can you help me rebuild it?

Fiddleford: What the f-.

Jerk Ford: Look, I know we've had our differences, but Stanley's in danger!

Fiddleford: Oh ho so your jackassery finally affected someone you do care about? It'd be so deliciously ironic if it hadn't affected the only good 'Stan Pines'.

Jerk Ford: Can you help me?

Fiddleford: Hell no, you're on your own.

Jerk Ford: He could die out there!

Fiddleford: Maybe YOU should have thought about that before messing with forces beyond human comprehension and control! Nothing you do or say could force me to work with you again!

Jerk Ford: ...What if I threatened to blow up the world?

Fiddleford: You're gonna blow up the world?

Jerk Ford: Yes.

Fiddleford: Because your brothers gone?

Jerk Ford: Yes.

Fiddleford: Do you think I'm going to fall for that?

Jerk Ford: Is that a bet you're willing to make?

-Later-

Jerk Ford, standing alone in the middle of his destroyed lab:

Jerk Ford: Son of a

(Fiddleford called his bluff)

---

Jerk Ford told them he had an important project that could revolutionize the scientific communities understanding of space and time. Everything about Bill, he kept to himself.

They did notice a few things, but considering how unpredictable Jerk Ford could be, possession via a triangular dream demon wasn't their first assumption.

Stan: Hey Fiddleford, have you noticed anything strange about Ford's behaviour?

Fiddleford: What d'ya mean?

Stan: Well, just look at him now.

Bill!Ford: *walks by the counter and stops when he sees a glass of water*

Bill!Ford:

Bill!Ford: *knocks the glass off of the counter*

Fiddleford:

Fiddleford: He seems pretty normal to me.

---

(1)

-HIGH SCHOOL ERA-

17-year-old Stan: Stanford, those adults are taking advantage of you!

17-year-old Ford: Pft, I literally plotted it.

Stan: That doesn't make it okay! They're supposed to know better, right?

Ford: Whatever, we're practically adults already.

-SEA GRUNKS ERA-

61-year-old Stanley: Hey, Stanford; the twins sent us a picture of their 17th.

61-year-old Stanford: Heh, look at 'em. They seem to think they're adults already, but they're still just ki-...

Stanley: ...You okay, Sixer?

Stanford: Stanley, what's my therapists number again?

(2)

They didn't call him the Jersey Devil, the Jersey Devils is just something he and Stanley called themselves as a duo.

They called him "The Evil Stan", or "Stan's Twin Brother". Which carried into later years, because for a while the Mystery Twins didn't call him by his name either, just "Grunkle Stan's Twin".

(3)

Stan: I promise sweetie, your other Grunkle loves you. He's always loved all of his family. But he has a hard time saying it or clearly showing it.

Mabel: … *points at the kitchen*

Dipper: *flipping off Jerk Ford as he eats breakfast*

Jerk Ford: *not looking away from newspaper but holding up a hand mirror to Dipper*

Stan: Stanford, stop antagonizing him. And, you, Dipper we talked about this, you can't make that gesture.

(4)

Stan: When are you going to use your words to tell them that you love them?

Jerk Ford: When are you going to shut the f**k up and make dinner?

---

Dipper: Are you this rude to all your family?

Jerk Ford: Yes. Don't think you're special.

[killerlookz]

hiii!!<3 if you’re thinking abt writing for joost, can u pls write some thing abt an established relationship fic based off the song birds of a feather by billie eilish if u can! love ur writing!

Hi anon! thank you sm for the request <33 this song is so sweeeet omg!!! also... technically an established relationship, but i do recap how reader and joost met :-)

Birds of a Feather | Joost Klein

description: gn!reader reflects on all the special moments in your and Joost's relationship following an unexpected proposal.

content: so insanely cheesey! sorry! pure fluff! + lots of crying (mostly happy tears) literally the most tiny smallest sexual reference this fic contains rpf, do not continue if that makes you uncomfortable

word count: 2426 (this was supposed to be under 1k words but i got soooo carried away)

/I don't know what I'm crying for / I don't think I could love you more/

Shaky fingers fiddle with the cold metal looped around your ring finger. Your hand flexes outward, watching as the light from your window reflects onto the small stone. Something warm rolls down your cheek- a solitary teardrop, caressing the skin of your face. Your hand reaches up to wipe away the tear, but it's too late, you can feel more welling up near your waterline, any sudden movement now would send tears streaming down your face. You look up, your eyelids brink rapidly in an attempt to prevent the inevitable waterworks.

You hadn't seen an engagement coming- in all the years you'd been together, it still seemed like a milestone that had felt so far away. Until Yesterday.

You and Joost had been nearly inseparable since just about the moment you had met- A nervous 20-year-old studying abroad in the Netherlands for your second to last semester of university. You sat on the stairs outside of the apartment building that stood as your temporary housing for the semester, on the brink of tears, your randomly assigned roommate had been a real piece of work. You were on your third argument that week alone, and, saying you were fed up was an understatement. You contemplated at that moment packing your things and just going back home.

"Gaat het?" (Are you ok?) A voice calls out, a goofy-looking blonde standing at the bottom of the stairs. He looks vaguely familiar, you think you may have seen him in the elevator of your apartment once or twice.

You furrow your eyebrows at him, "Ik spreek niet veel Nederlands," Using one of the few Dutch phrases you knew to tell him you don't speak Dutch. You shake your head, kind of hoping he would get lost, not wanting to be bothered.

"Ah," He nods, "Do you speak English?"

You stare at him for a moment, unsure if you should lie, after all he was a stranger but something is telling you to tell him the truth.

"Yeah," You sniffle, attempting to remove any emotion from your face.

"Are you okay?" He asks again, this time you understand.

"I'm fine," You weren't exactly searching for a deep conversation about your current struggles in someone you didn't know.

"People who are fine don't usually sit outside their apartment building crying."

You bite your lip, contemplating engaging the kind stranger in what was ailing you at the moment. You sigh, having a feeling he would probably keep pestering you if you continued to insist you were feeling in a way you actually weren't.

"It's just my roommate-"

Two months after your first encounter with the blonde man at the bottom of the stairs, you were standing in front of a mirror, doing a final check of your outfit before going on your first date. You had learned his name was Joost, he was 21, and lived in an apartment two floors above you.

He was unimaginably kind, with a wit unparalleled by anyone you'd ever met before, and truthfully, he was very cute- so when he had initially asked you out, you couldn't get a "yes" out fast enough.

It seemed a little inconvenient, given that you only had one more month left in the Netherlands- but he knew this, and didn't necessarily seem like he had been looking for anything too serious. Besides, it would be nice for you to have a good connection with someone outside of the people you saw in your classes.

There's a knock at the door, and your feet are quick to start shuffling under you, you're practically running to go open it.

You stop for a moment as you get to the door, letting a deep breath fill your lungs to capacity, before letting it out, whipping the door open as you do so.

Joost is standing behind it, a smile plastered on his face, hands behind his back. He's dressed up, now that you thought about it, you never really saw him in anything other than a sweatshirt or t-shirt and some jeans. It was a pleasant change- a white button-up shirt and some dress pants even if both articles of clothing had been obviously wrinkled.

"Hey," He greets, removing his hands from where they rest behind him, revealing a bouquet of flowers in an outstretched arm, "These are for you- I didn't know what kind of flowers you liked so I sort of just guessed." He's unsure of himself, in an entirely endearing way. He was trying.

"For me?" You grin, "Aww, Joost!" You take the flowers from his hands, "Let me go find something to put these in."

A month later you're sitting on Joost's couch after what you assumed would be your last date together. Your study abroad program was ending in three days, and you'd be returning back home.

There is an air of sadness that surrounds you, one that you hadn't expected to feel- you'd only known the man for three months, yet somehow it felt like you were leaving someone you had known your whole life.

Gentle fingers grab onto your jaw, Joost is turning your head to force you to look at him.

"You know," He starts, "I've really been enjoying our time together."

"Me too," You agree, a small smile peaking onto your face, you try not to give way to the sadness you were feeling.

"And," He says, "Y/n, I really like you, and I think if I don't ask you now, I'm never going to get the chance to ever again."

"What?" You perk up, your heart suddenly beating much faster, your breathing quickens, unsure of what he's going to say next.

"Well- I- what I'm trying to say is, do you want to go out with me? Like- officially- like dating." His voice is trembling, you'd never seen him so anxious before.

"Joost I-" You sigh, the reality of your situation crashing into you harder than it had before, "I'm leaving soon- we'll be hours away, when am I going to see y-"

You're cut off by Joost's lips crashing into yours, your thoughts suddenly disappearing the second your lips connect. You're entirely overwhelmed with emotion, every wire in your brain is fried, this move was an utter surprise, up until this point your relationship had been entirely chaste; the furthest you'd gone was sharing a hug at the end of your dates. Still, you kiss him back, your hand finding its way to his shoulder, tugging at it, begging him to come closer to you.

It had been seven and a half months since you had last seen Joost, but the two of you had talked at length each and every day during that time. By now, you had finished your degree in University and were ready to really start your life.

You could remember the cheer of excitement on the other end of the phone when you told Joost after a month of job hunting you had secured a job in the Netherlands.

"Does that mean you're coming back here?"

"Yeah, the job starts at the end of next month ."

A month and a half didn't necessarily give you much time to plan things out to the extent you would have liked, but Joost was more than ready and willing to help you out.

He had posited moving into his apartment- but the suggestion while sweet- was quickly thrown out. It wouldn't have been an ideal commute to your new job.

So the two of you got on to looking elsewhere, he had been kind enough to take the time out of his days to go to apartment showings for you near where you'd be taking your job, keeping you on Facetime as he viewed the places.

Eventually, you had found one you absolutely fell in love with, in perfect distance from the job. The problem had been- it was quite a ways out of your budget. You were heartbroken, it had basically been your dream apartment.

Joost, always swift with solving problems, suggested that the two of you move into the apartment together, that way he could cover the rest of the rent that you couldn't afford. And while you were over the moon about his offer- you worried about what living together would do to your relationship, the two of you had known each other for less than a year- would living together be such a great idea?

But as you're standing in the doorway of your bedroom on the first night being in your new apartment, staring up at Joost, who's leaning against the door frame- you just know you made the right decision.

A careful hand glides across your cheek, resting at the back of your neck,

"Thank you for coming back," Joost muses, gently massaging the spot where his hand resides. You lean into his touch,

"There was no other option" There's an undeniable twinkle in your eyes, admiring the man who stood above you, tired and messy from a long day of moving.

"I've been waiting to tell you this in person," His grip on your neck suddenly becomes still, rigid, "And- even if you don't feel the same yet, I just wanted to say that I love you." He's talking fast, simpering after he finishes his short words before resuming the gentle massaging motion of his thumb against your neck.

The breath is almost entirely knocked out of you- he loves you.

The words just about run out of your mouth, "I love you too,"

"You do?" His pupils are blown wide, "You love me too?"

You nod fervently, never having meant a statement so immensely in your life.

Joost is leaning down now, his head tilted so his lips can perfectly interlock with yours. It is possibly the hungriest kiss the two of you had ever shared, with the obvious implication of love now behind it. If Joost hadn't snaked his free arm around your back, you probably would have fallen straight to the ground, your legs tingling with excitement.

He pulls away, looking into your mostly empty bedroom, a smirk appearing on his face,

"What do you say we christen that bed I spent all day putting together?"

Five years later you're still living in that same apartment, the once-empty space now fully decorated with beautiful memories.

And now, the most crystal-clear memory sparkled in your brain, almost as bright as the ring itself. You'd been crying in intervals since then- since it happened since - You replayed it in your head.

"Do you remember when we first met?" Joost's fingers interlock with yours as the two of you walk down a familiar street- You were unsure of why Joost had insisted on taking you here, to the town where you both had lived when you met.

"How could I ever forget?" You grin, "Feels like just yesterday I was crying to some strange Dutch boy about my roommate issues."

"And how you told me, you never wanted to see the Netherlands again?" His words are slow as he looks deeply into your eyes, glimmers of adoration shining from every feature on his face.

"God, I was so dramatic- wasn't I?" You look away from him, scoffing as you look down at the pavement, thinking about your old self, looking back on it- it was a stupid decision to let one person ruin almost two months of your life, but back then it seemed like the biggest deal in the world. "Funny" You shrug, "The decision I made to talk to you on the day I was most certain I was just going to pack up and leave forever led me to making the Netherlands my home." You shake your head, "I don't know what would have happened if I hadn't met you on that day, but I don't think there's a reality that exists where we aren't together."

"Don't make me cry," He chuckles.

"I mean- I don't mean to be all sappy, but it's true- if soulmates are real, I can guarantee you're mine."

He's grinning now, you'd been so lost in your thoughts you barely noticed where the two of you had ended up, back at your old apartment, right in front of those very steps the two of you had met on.

He's pulling you up the stairs, and needless to say you're confused about this trip down memory lane.

"I think it's only appropriate that I do this here," His voice is low, and he's blinking more rapidly than usual. His hand slips from yours, and falls into his pocket- you watch anxiously for his next move. There's something in his hand now, and he's slowly bending down onto one knee.

The tears start nearly immediately, before he says a single word, you're cupping your mouth with your hand

"Y/n," He looks up at you, through the lenses of his glasses you can see there are tears in his eyes too, "Wil je met me trouwen?" (will you marry me)

"Joost," You choke out a sob- "Yes, Yes!" Your whole body is full of a tingling sensation, and your heart feels like it occupies more space in your chest than it did before, swelling with an overwhelming amount of love.

Joost grabs your trembling hand, caressing it tenderly with his thumb before slipping on the ring. You let him hold your hand for a moment more before you're pulling it away, desperate to see. You outstretch your hand in front of you, looking at the glimmering stone that sits on your finger. A visual confirmation of what had just happened.

He's barely stood all the way up before you're reaching for him, knocking into him with an embrace so energetically that it nearly knocks him over. As he catches his balance he wraps his arms right back around you, pulling you into him.

If you were to have gotten any closer, the atoms that make up each of your bodies may have actually fused together. Though you wish you could, despite how you fully braced Joost's body it doesn't feel like enough you want him closer to you.

Still, you're so warm in his tight embrace, letting out choked tears of joy against his chest.

A gentle kiss falls on the top of your head, followed by your favorite words to hear out of Joost's mouth, "Ik hou van jou." (I love you)

You shut your eyes, basking in the moment, you could absolutely get used to hearing those words every day for the rest of your life.

/I'll love you 'til the day that I die / 'Til the light leaves my eyes/

[sugarnspice630]

Baby It's Cold Outside

"Perhaps you can stay a little longer? Share one more drink with me?"

•pairing: yunho x fem!reader

•word count: 1k

•tags: MDNI, suggestive, jealous and possessive Yunho, reader is kinda stupid (sorry), alcohol consumption, drink spiking (DO NOT DO THIS????), ...did I miss anything? probably

Summary: Quite literally based off the controversy with the song "Baby It's Cold Outside", after spending a little too long with your date, Yunho, you try your best to go home. He seemingly does not want you to leave however.

A/N: I have a confession...one of my taboo kinks is to be drugged and taken advantage of, but you didn't hear that from me! For real though, please be careful with your drinks being spiked. Protect yourself and others while under the influence. Remember this is only fiction and to not be taken seriously or to give anyone any ideas. Please be sure to drop a like, reblog if you enjoyed it, and comment your favorite part! Happy reading!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆───

Your phone dinged with a notification. A message from your roommate, asking where you were. You previously told them you were going to meet up with this guy you matched with on Tinder. You had been chatting back and forth for a while, so you had some trust with him. It wasn’t a one-night stand or anything, just the first time meeting up. You glanced at the time on your phone after reading your roomie’s message and realized you had stayed way longer than you expected.

“Yunho, I’ve really enjoyed our time, but I do have to get going.”

“Mmm, can’t you just stay a little longer? The temperature is not the warmest right now.”

“Yeah, well, ‘tis the season for that. Plus, my roommate just messaged asking where I was.”

“You have someone else expecting you?” His voice was laced with a hint of jealousy. You scoffed at his comment softly.

“Relax, it’s just a roommate Yunho, plus, ‘they'” - you say with air quotes - "are a lady, so you can rest easy.” You use your hands and push yourself up off the couch you both are sitting on.

“I see. Well, I don’t want you to freeze out there.” Yunho stands up after you do and starts to get closer to you. His tall stature throws you off for the 100th time. You gaze up at him with your mouth parted slightly.

“I’m sure I’ll be okay. I dressed prepared for the weather.”

“I know, but doesn’t this warm fire feel so much nicer?” His hands trail up from your hips to your waist and rest there. The action sends a small chill up your spine.

“I-it does.” The remaining confidence you had slowly leaving you, softly submitting to staying with Yunho for the night. You stare at each other for a moment before you blink and shake your head and back away from him. “No, I need to leave.” You peek your head past his shoulder to look out the window near the front door. The snow is coming down quickly and heavily. Yunho follows your gaze and returns his attention back to you, a soft smirk on his face.

“I wouldn’t go out there if I were you. Perhaps you can stay a little longer? Share one more drink with me until the snow trucks go by?” His hands leave your hips and tenderly hold your hands. His sentences came across as questions, but you knew you really wouldn’t have much of a choice.

“Fine. I suppose one more won’t hurt.” You glance off to the side, disappointed with yourself that you could not stand your ground, but knowing he also had a point. If you left now, who knows what could happen to you out there with the snow coming down the way it is?

“Good~. I’ll go get the drinks. Just sit back down for me.” His eyes are full of tenderness and care. His hand invites you to sit back on the couch. There was no denying his charm and how your heart fluttered with him wanting you to stay longer. You sat back down, looking up at him, and he gave you an approving nod before heading to the kitchen to prepare the drinks. You pulled your phone back out and shot a message to your roomie. 

“You’re smiling a lot over there.” Yunho’s voice ringing through your ears, causing you to jump suddenly. He hands over the small glass he just poured for you.

“Oh, heh, yeah. My roommate is just being...perverted." You chuckle softly as you grab the drink from his hand, a slight blush coming across your face. He responds with a soft “hmm” and sits back down next to you.

The situation feels familiar. Being in this same position not that long ago. Drinks in your hands, chatting about frivolous things, sitting in the exact same spots. Like nothing has changed, besides the fact you are staying a few minutes longer than you intended. The night drags on; the snow keeps coming down. The sudden broadcast on the news advising people to stay inside and not go out due to dangerous conditions. Once that message finishes, the smirk on Yunho’s face grows even larger. You furrow your eyebrows towards him, thinking the alcohol was starting to take effect and making you see things.

“Yunho, it's been a pleasure, but I seriously need to go.” You set the cup down on the table in front of you and stand up. Feeling like all of the blood suddenly left your head, you start to fall forward. Yunho, quick on the draw, stands up and catches you.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy darling. Didn’t you hear the weather experts? It’s dangerous to go out there.” 

“I promised my roommate I’d be back.” Your words start to come out slurred, unintentionally. 

“Y/N I can’t allow you to go out there. Especially in this condition.” A concerned tone in his voice as he looks you over, holding you up and in place any time you try to move.

“Yunho…” Your sentence falls off as you look at him. Everything in the room except for him is spinning, and suddenly your vision becomes blurred. Your body starts to feel light and tingly. Am I about to pass out? You think to yourself. From what little is left you can see, Yunho’s eyes shift from concerned to dark and sinister. 

“I can’t allow you to leave Y/N.”

“Yunho…what did you…?” Next thing you know, he has you spun around, and you feel him grab your wrists and tug them together. Yunho leans in towards your neck and whispers in your ear.

“Perhaps I put a little something in your drink to help you stay longer.”

“Wha…” None of this making any sense due to your body practically shutting down at this point.

“Shh, shh, shh.” Yunho places his spare hand over your mouth to keep you quiet, and not too long after that, he feels your body go limp against him. The drink has taken full effect now. Yunho quietly sings to himself, in his deeper register...

 “Baby, it’s cold outside~.”

Tags: @pre1ttyies@isiloiale@moongoddess1982@xuchiya@myloveforyunho @ywtfvs @meowmeeps @tinyelfperson @httpseungmxn @acupoftaewithsomesuga @tiredlittlevirgo @no1likevie @arki-sha @yeosangsbbg @10nantscompanion @skzooluvr

[acidsoju]

ALICE IN WONDERLAND

genre: fantasy au, royalty au, multidimentional au, romance, angst, fiction, action, slow burn. pairing: lost prince!soobin x femreader warnings: a lot of plot?, some cursing, alcohol drinking, getting drunk, reader is mentioned to have long hair, ft. yeonjun and beomgyu, violent actions mentioned, mentions of death, a little 'forced proximity' trope, plot's literally reader finding soobin on the streets and adopting him !, reader's implied to be a year or two younger than soobin, reader's parents are mentioned to have passed away, maybe some steamy make out session but nothing else (sorry girlies no smut), tentacles (??? lmao dont ask), kinda rushed in the end if you ask me. word count: 21.1k summary: you were just out for a midnight snack so how did you end up caught with a prince from another world?

BEING QUITE HONEST, SOOBIN DOES NOT KNOW WHAT IN THE WORLD HAPPENED. His mind is still quite fuzzy when he opens his eyes, rushed and dispersed memories flashing inside his head as a low whine of pain escapes from his mouth. He remembers being in his carriage, enjoying the relaxing image of the road through his window, the sun was setting. He remembers the carriage coming to a stop that neither he did ask for or was informed, his eyes narrowing at the coachman’s sudden action as he knocked on the carriage’s wall.

He remembers the way the door was thrown open and how what came into sight was not the coachman but three men. He remembers trying to escape, not allowing himself to mourn over the dead body of the coachman lying on the ground, and remembers perfectly well the pain he felt when his fist crashed against one of the man’s faces.

He doesn’t remember what happened after he was knocked out though.

He remembers voices, some lose words and sentences and then waking up at the vertigo he felt down in his guts while falling down a cliff, endless pitching dark ahead of him and then he faints before he reaches the ground.

Now, lying on the cold and damp floor, Soobin wondered if death was supposed to smell this awful? Pushing himself up with his hands, he looks around and squints his eyes. Was he in some kind of dungeon? The distant sound of waterdrops constantly falling was the only sound reaching his ears, besides the ones he made by standing up. Soobin lifted his chin, head looking upwards to the ceiling where the only mere light that stopped him from being completely in the dark came from.

There was a staircase just under that little hole in the ceiling irradiating light… Could that be the stairway to heaven? Soobin did not lose time before going up the steps, carefully, placing his hand against the hole and pushing up when he reached the last of the stairs. He breathes in deeply as fresh air hit his face, peeking through the hole, the scenery in front of his eyes changing completely one he was out.

Stepping out completely out the hole on was he thought was the ceiling, his eyes look around; it was certainly less dark that in the dungeon below, yet there seemed to be no one around. And, if he had to be honest as he always was, it looked nothing like he had picture heaven to be.

His eyes flicked a little further, sensing some movements just a few feet away from him. There, someone! His feet moved on its own towards the small silhouette of what it seemed a young girl; your attention too set on the thing in your hands. Soobin did falter his pace a little when he saw the way you took a bite from that thing; he wasn’t involving himself with some kind of carnivore, right? Your eyes finally seemed to notice the man moving in your direction, him clearing his throat as he stopped in his tracks in front of you.

“Young peasant, could you perhaps enlighten me about if this is heaven?” Soobin did not ignore the way your eyebrows slightly jumped at his words and how you showed clear distrust in your eyes, your mouth never stopping its movements as you chewed.

“Sorry man” you said once you swallowed the little midnight snack on your mouth, your eyes trailing down at the man’s clothes -was he a cosplayer?- and then up at his eyes again. “I’ve got no money.” This time it was your turn to watch how the man’s face twisted in surprise at your speech, eyes blinking uncountable times and mouth opening and closing a few more, lost at words. He was a prince- the crown prince and you dared being so disrespectful.

Soobin did understand he was, in fact, not dead when his stomach roared; a delicious yet unknown smell filling his senses, his eyes immediately following the invisible trail til reaching that thing you held in your hands. If you could eat that, then it meant he could too, right? And if he felt hunger, that meant he wasn’t dead, right?

His eyes lingered on the hotdog a little too much and you noticed it before you could even take another bite, stopping just a few inches before your snack with your mouth hanging open. You could almost see the drool in his mouth as his eyes shone at the sight of your snack and, after hesitating a little, you sigh and offer him the rest of your hot dog.

“Here, you can have it” you say grabbing the man’s wrist after no sign of him moving and placing the hotdog in his hands, pulling your hand away immediately. “It’s really late, mister, you should go back home now" You muttered before turning around on your heels and walking in the direction of your own place.

Soobin stood in his place absolutely froze, his eyes on your figure walking away, his hand warm where the hotdog was placed. Okay, maybe you have been a little rude to him a second ago, but as Soobin takes a shy bite at the hotdog, he is fast to forgive your behavior humming in delight at the fantastic taste. You had been so kind to him as to give him this little piece of meat that melted in his mouth? Giving up your own pleassure for him?

You looked over your shoulder when you heard the sound of hurried steps in your way only to spot the same man rushing in your direction, hotdog still in hand and a little of mustard on the corner of his lips. The man stopped as you turned around to face him, his chest going up and down as he panted and watched you cross your arms over your chest.

“You’re not following me home, aren’t you, mister?” You questioned him, a brow arching inquisitively. He pressed his lips in a thin line, passing a hand over his clothes to make the wrinkles go away; giving away he was, in fact, following you as he adverted your gaze.

“I am certainly not following you, miss, I’m just bestowing over you the honor of my companionship,” you snorted at the way the man in front of you puffed his chest out in your direction, chin tilting up and eyes looking at yours with a power you didn’t really understand; why was this strange man acting as if he was some kind high-up?

“Well, I don’t want your companionship, my lord,” you said, the words leaving your mouth with a notorious sarcastic tint but Soobin’s mouth opened in surprise at them.

“I must let you know I am no baron, miss, but a prince.” your eyes widened at his words. You got it now, everything- man had some loose wires in his head. You had to clear your throat and look away from him, feeling the cringe creeping in your body at his weird way of standing; God, he actually believed he was a prince.

“Look mister- mister prince, just stop following me or I’ll have to report you to the police.”

“Police?” The man tilted his head tasting the familiar word in his mouth. “You mean the guards? Are you, perhaps, a princess yourse-

Soobin stopped talking mid-sentence when your loud laugh erupted, holding onto your stomach and bending as you found the crazy man’s assumptions hilarious. There was no way you were a princess, he thought as he watched you laugh out loud, almost falling to your knees and wiping a few threatening tears on the corners of your eyes until, slowly, your laugh died down.

“Man, you’re so funny!” you beamed, lifting up a thump up in his direction and then clearing your throat, suppressing your amused smile. “I’m sorry to break it to you but I’m no princess,” shrugging, you started turning on your heels again to resume on your way back home, lifting an accusatory finger in the man’s direction. “Seriously, mister, don’t follow me anymore or I’ll report you to the police.”

“Who is this police you talk about, miss?” he inquired, taking a step in your direction as he feared you were going to leave. “Maybe they rule here?” You hummed for a second, thinking about it before nodding your head to the man and mumbling a simply yup, his eyes shining in relief at your answer. “Take me to them.”

“Wha-

“I must talk with the ruler of your kingdom, young peasant.” He stated, the solidity in his words and eyes softening a little after a few seconds of silence on your part. “If you may be so generous, once more, to show me the way?” he talked again, his tone a little more delicate as his big eyes stared intently into yours.

A tired sigh escaped from your lips, what time was it already? Your eyes trailed the man’s silhouette for the second time in the strange night you were having, taking in the way his clothes were stained, stinky and even torn on the ends; his face didn’t look that good either as his hair was ruffled and stiff, probably from the same thing that had drenched his clothes, and if you squinted your eyes, even in the middle of the night, you could tell he had some tired and bewildered eyes, yet still they shined with a little tint of hope.

“Fine, I’ll take you to the police.” You gave in massaging the back of your neck with your hand as he smiled grateful at you, taking a few steps closer until he stood next to you. You started walking with him following your steps into the police station’s direction, both of you in silence and you failing to notice the way the man long legs took shorter steps to walk in synch with you. The main building came in sight not so long after as it wasn’t even that far away from where you were, stopping in front of the entrance you turned your head to look at him. “Here it is.”

“Let us go in.” He said, before he was going up the entrance stairs and turning back to look at you remaining on the same spot, eyebrows furrowing a little at your unmoving self. “Come on now, peasant, don’t be modest. I’m sure the kind police would grant you a hearing as well.”

You blinked a few times while processing his words. You didn’t move from your place because you had all the intentions of dropping the prince at the police station and returning home. You did not agree going in with him so why were you actually following him inside the building? Soobin let you go in first, even holding the door open for you and followed closely behind you, eyes looking everywhere in curiosity, especially noticing the pattern in some people’s clothes.

You walked the boy closer to where some police officer sat down behind his desk, his unfaced eyes scanning you then the boy on your back that was still too caught up looking around to notice the unwelcoming stare of the adult in front of you. “Hello, officer.” You mumbled addressing the man who nodded yet remained silent. “See this guy over here? He’d really like to speak with you.”

At your words, Soobin peeked effortlessly over your shoulder to look at the man. “Are you the one in charge here, good sir?” He inquired, politely making a small bow with his head at the man whose eyebrows raised a little.

“You could say that, kid, what happened to you?” asked the police officer, eyes looking at the state of his clothes, nose scrunching at the horrendous smell reaching his nostrils.

“Oh, sir! I am finding relief finally knowing someone who can help me!” Exclaimed the prince allowing himself to seat on the chair at the other side of the desk; you barely nod your head for yourself as you thought that your job here was done and that it was finally time for you to go get some rest. “I seem to find myself far away from my home? Do you perhaps know the Fifth Great Kingdom of the Choi Dynasty? Is it too far away from this mundane village we are now?”

You were already turning towards the door when you heard the man sigh heavily. Peeking at his reaction, the police officer brushed a hand through his tired face, eyes perking up at the man in front of him and then to you, making you flinch in your spot at the annoyance in his eyes. “Listen up, kids, we’re busy people and do not have time for any kind of silly joke you’re playing right now. Why don’t you go back home? It’s really late for you both to be roaming around, understood?”

“That is exactly what I need help with, sir, to return home!” Soobin exclaimed, a little bit of exasperation in his voice. The police officer shook his head and got up, his hand making a visible move to the handcuffs hanging from his belt. Soon, your hand found the prince’s wrist and pulled him up, rushing towards the door.

“We’ll go now, sir, sorry for taking your time!” You squealed, ignoring the way the rest of the people inside the building gave you looks that went from ‘it’s two in the morning, why are you two still out?’ to ‘I will not hesitate to put you behind bars if you’re causing any disturbance in my neighborhood, kid.’

Your hand let go of Soobin’s wrist as soon as the both of you stepped back outside, the warmth of the police station quickly fading from your bodies and instead being hugged by the chilly air of the morning early hours. Over the adrenaline ringing and the bangs from your heartbeat in your ears, you heard the prince next to you muttered something like:

“Oh, I am signing for war when I get back.”

You turned your head to look at him only to feel a little guilty even thought nothing of all the things happening were your fault. Still, it was sad to see a person looking so lost; his eyes were still glued to the building in front of you but you could tell that they were actually somewhere else, somewhere far away. You watched the way the tip of his ears had turned bright pink as well as his cheeks and tip of the nose probably because of the cold, the torn clothes not providing him of any warm and comfort.

You would be probably crazy to let him crash at your place, right? This strange man that you had barely got to know for a just an hour, who was probably crazy, his mind far away trapped in a little fantasy word he created and that he assured was from, who could possibly be a serial killer? What even was his name?

You couldn’t, right?

And somehow you still found yourself turning your whole body to him, a long and defeated sigh coming out of your lips, stretching your hand, an open palm, in his direction and clearing your throat to get his attention back from wherever his mind was. His head turned in your direction, revealing the pitiful look on his face, knitted eyebrows and a small pout on his lips, an anxious look on his eyes that shifted to confusion as they moved down at your hand.

“Your… name,” you said clumsily, swallowing the awkwardness you felt under his confused eyes. “What is it?” Soobin’s eyes went up again to meet yours, just realizing he had yet to introduce himself to you, the only generous person he had crossed paths in the new world he found himself.

His hand swiftly grabbed yours but instead of shaking it, he rotated it with his own and lifted it up to his face. At the same time, the tip of his left foot touched the ground behind his right foot, kneeling in front of you until his face was at the same height of yours, dark yet shiny eyes staring into yours over your hand hanging closer to the bottom of his face. It tingles, you thought, there where his breath falls over my hand. His plump and cold lips pressed a soft kiss on your knuckles, eyes never looking away from yours.

“I am Choi Soobin from the Choi Dynasty, rulers of the Fifth Great Kingdom and crown prince of it as well.” He said once his lips left your hand standing normally again and softly letting go of your hand. “I am very sorry for the late introduction, miss, I must have been pretty out of my mind.”

“O-oh, no,” you mumbled trying to appease the creeping rush in your cheeks as the warm in your hand lingered longer than you had expected. “it’s fine, don’t sweat it.” Soobin nodded slowly at you, his eyes looking into yours expectantly and then you realized he did not know your name either. “Oh! Sorry,” you proceeded to tell him your name, smiling softly after it; yours was simpler.

“Y/n…” he said, savoring your name in his mouth, eyes looking into the sky getting lost again before he nodded his head slowly, more to himself than to you. “I will remember it as you have shown a great amount of generosity to me.”

“... Sure. Look, it’s really late and it will get even colder, would you like to spend the night at my place?” You asked noticing the way his mood lifted immediately. “I bet it’s not as big as your castle but it’s better than sleeping on the streets…” you stammered, feeling embarrassed at yourself, why were you talking about castles now?

“I shall take you up on your offer, miss y/n.” he said feeling grateful towards you once again, a tiny smile spreading on his face while you turned your back to him and started walking, stopping when you noticed him not following.

“Come on then, prince, we should get some rest for today.” Soobin rushed towards you and adjusted the pace of his steps to yours once more. “I think it’d be good if you wash up when we get there… you kinda, well, stink.” Soobin felt his cheekbones heating up at your words; he had never ever been told that he stunk. All that he ever received were praises from his parents, from his friends, from the teachers, from the people of the kingdom, so the reaction you obtained was a shy laugh and him mumbling sorry softly under his breath.

Neither of you spoke again until you both were going up the staircases of the complex you lived in. After what felt like infinite stairs up, you stopped in front of a door with the oxidating numbers 405 in it, your head turning to look at him with a tired and apologetic expression. “I’m sorry, we’re almost there, I just really need to get something from the guy that lives here, would you wait for me over there, please?” Soobin couldn’t say no, after all you were letting him, a complete stranger, sleep at your home, so the boy walked away a little and waited patiently as you knocked on the door once, twice, thrice, a couple of times increasing even more each time.

The door swung open revealing on the other side a sleepy boy rubbing his eyes that he barely could open to look at your figure standing in front of him. Yeonjun’s eyebrows furrowed, his eyes closing again at the intensity of the yawn escaping his lips. “Babe? What’s wrong? It’s three in the fucking morning.” He mumbled, voice deep and raspy from being just woken up, leaning against the frame of his door and reaching a hand to rest on the top of your head. The sleepy guy finally seemed to notice the presence of the other boy standing behind you, his eyes looking with curiosity. “Oh? Is he with you? Or is he bothering you?”

“He’s with me, Junie.” You answered, smiling softly at your friend and snuzzling at his hand trailing down from the top of your head to your cheek. “Sorry I woke you up but I need help with something…” Yeonjun hummed for you to continue talking, his warm fingers trying to make the coldness of your face disappear. “Could you lend my friend some clothes?” The boys’ gazes met, both of them looking down at each other’s attires; Yeonjun getting immediately why you were asking him that, Soobin wondering if such clothes could even fit him. “And some underwear too, please? I can buy them if you need."

Yeonjun chuckled softly at you and squeezed your cheek in between his fingers, stretching your pretty skin to his heart’s desire. Soobin wondered if that man was your fiancé, he was not, right? Why would you offer him to sleep at your place if you were already taken? But then again, what was your relationship with him to let him touch you so carelessly? Is that how things worked in this little strange and rude world?

“I’ll get that for you, babe, wait here, ‘kay?” Yeonjun leaned in, pressing a tender kiss on your forehead, his eyes shifting from the softness he looked at you with to a cold stare looking into the strange man’s eyes, and then walking back inside his complex leaving you alone with the prince.

“Miss, I am sorry to pry but could it be that man is your husband to be?” Asked Soobin breaking the silence the both of you were engulfed at. The look you gave him over your shoulder clearly answered his question and he looked away feeling a bit ashamed for being such a noisy person.

Yeonjun came back soon after with a paper bag in his hand filled with all you had asked for. Mumbling a soft thank you to him, you were ready to continue your way up the stairs with the prince when Yeonjun’s voice made you stop on your tracks.

“He’s crashing at your place tonight?” he questioned scratching the spot under his jawline, receiving a short nod from you. “Mmh, ‘kay babe, call me if you need anything else.”

You heard the door shutting softly while you walked up the stairs, after a while finally reaching your own complex, the door with the number 913. After unlocking it, you pushed it open and trailed a single hand on the wall searching for the light switch, pushing the little lever up with your index finger, warm light immediately making the darkness from your apartment disappear. Soobin followed you in, his eyes as always looking around at everything with curiosity.

“Fuck, it’s so late,” you muttered, your eyes glued to the clock on your wall marking three twenty-five in the morning. “Shoes off, please,” you said, your eyes moving to the prince’s dirty shoes, he rushing to take them off just as you had done. “Let me show you the bathroom so you can wash yourself. Here,” you pushed the paper bag at him, his fingers barely brushing your hand before you let go of it and walked down a tight hall, turning on the lights as you walked.

Soobin followed you close and silently, listening carefully to every instruction you gave him. You were quite bossy, he thought as you told him where to leave his dirty clothes and to call for you when he was done, leaving him alone after a last glance at him.

You heard water crashing against your bathtub floor from your bedroom, quickly changing into some clothes to sleep and grabbing the mat from inside your closet, taking it with you to the small living room and placing it down on the ground after pushing the couch away a little. You walked from the living to your bedroom a few more times, taking with you some bedcovers and pillows for the boy to sleep a bit more comfortable.

Your head turned to the hall when you heard the bathroom door opening, the prince emerging from it with a steam cloud on his back. You had to actually squint and rubbed your eyes at the sight of him; was he the same person? The crazy prince from before was nowhere to be seen in the man in front of you, Yeonjun’s clothes fitting him perfectly, no more stinky smell, no more strained clothes, no more stiff hair. Instead, his hair fell over his eyes still dripping some waterdrops from the shower.

“I’m done, miss y/n,” he said, smiling softly at you and tilting his head a little to meet your eyes; wasn’t he ridiculously tall? “I also left the clothes where you told me to... What is wrong, does this clothing not fit me?” he questioned analyzing the little amused look on your face. You quickly shook your head, looking away from him and putting another step of distance between each other.

“You can sleep here tonight,” you pointed at the spontaneous bed you made on the floor, from the corner of your eyes watching him nod while taking in the sight of it. Soobin quickly got under the bedcovers you had put for him, hair falling softly framing his face as he placed his head on the pillow, eyes looking up at you, fatigue taking over his features. “Is it alright? Maybe sleeping on the floor is a bit…”

“This is perfect, miss,” he mumbled, eyes weighting down, lazy smile fighting to remain on his face. “Thank you so much for everything, really.”

You only hummed as you walked towards the wall, turning off the light and mumbling a soft goodnight, prince before walking to your own bedroom.

Just then, finally having found some warmth and comfort after everything that went down, Soobin’s cheeks got wet from the tears trailing down from his eyes, his teeth chewing at his bottom lip trying to hold the sobs, and himself too exhausted to even cry the way he deserved, falling asleep with no sign from the tears of stopping any time soon.

-

Five hours is all you got of sleep that night, your body immediately falling into slumber when it touched the comfort of your bed, a hell of a whole ride for only a midnight snack if someone were to ask you.

When you woke up the next morning you actually thought you had had just one of the craziest fucking dreams of your life, but soon you realized it hadn’t been a dream; first, it was walking into the bathroom and instantly gagging at the putrid smell of the clothes placed neatly on a corner; secondly, was the soundly sleeping prince on your living room, soft snores coming from his half-opened heart-shaped lips.

So now you had a complete strange man in your complex who firmly believed he’s some kind of prince- no, crown prince of a kingdom and you still had to go to class? What a hilarious world, you thought, your mind wondering if in his world college students existed for suffering too.

“Please… don’t… rub me… I’m a broke… student…” you wrote down on a single piece of paper, mumbling the words under your breath and smiling as you drew a little smiley face on it, then sticking the note to the arm of the couch next to the sleeping beauty.

When Soobin woke up later in the morning, almost not morning anymore, he knew immediately all that had happened was real; his puffy eyes moving around for any sign of you, spotting instead the little note on the couch that was directed to him:

‘mornin’ prince, sorry I had to leave first got some things to do, feel free to have some fruit from the kitchen but please don’t rub me, I’m a broken student :)’

Soobin chuckled softly at your words and put the note back where you had put it, feeling too lazy to get up yet, his mind wandering over and over again at everything that happened in last than twenty-four hours. Are they worried? Do they think I died? Have they told the people of the kingdom yet? Have they caught the responsibles? Why did they do this to me? Can I go back?

Soobin forced himself to stop thinking when he felt the hard pang in his chest and his throat tightening at the scary thought of never seeing his family again. Maybe he’d have some fruit.

The prince arched an inquisitive eyebrow as his eyes scanned your disaster of a kitchen, then landing on the basket with fruits over a counter, picking up an apple and washing it while completely ignoring the dirty dishes all over the sink. If you weren’t doing your dishes, why would he?

He allowed himself to take a seat on your couch, enjoying the taste of his favorite fruit, his mind flowing with thoughts again. Should he wait for you to come back or just go away now? It would probably be very impolite of him to go away without a proper goodbye, he thought, agreeing with himself. But just what time were you coming back? His fingers brushed again the note on the couch’s arm, picking it up to read it once more; you didn’t say what time you were coming back, so what was he supposed to do?

The image of the boy from last night appeared on his mind as quickly as he got himself from the couch and walked down the stairs, remembering the number of the door and soon reaching it, knocking on it just like you had done last night, once, twice, thrice, again and again, until the door flew opened.

“Uuh?” Yeonjun frowned at the prince, his eyes looking down at his own clothes, damn he had style. “Nice clothes, man.”

“I suppose they are not quite bad,” said Soobin, lifting up his chin at the boy whose eyebrows jumped at his speech, looking at the prince funnily.

“And just from what fairytale did y/n take you from, mh?” Yeonjun crossed his arms over his chest, a lazy grin on his lips. Soobin unknowingly pouted at the mention of your name so carelessly.

“Do you happen to know which time is miss y/n coming back?” he made sure to emphasized the correct way you should be treated. Yeonjun hummed a little too long, his lips pouting while thinking.

“I do.”

“Well? Tell me.”

“Not telling ya’” Yeonjun stuck his tongue out at the man playfully, earning a soft gasp of indignation from Soobin and a taken aback look. “If she didn’t tell you there must be for a reason, no?”

“She might have just forgotten to add it.” Soobin mumbled, eyebrows knitting in frustration; he did not like this boy, not one bit. ”I will wait for her either way, I just wish to know when she will be back.”

Yeonjun sighed, rolling his eyes already tired from hearing the formal speech of the boy, not even his grandmother spoke that way and she was like, ancestral. “She’s back in a few hours, man, so find something else to do while you wait” Yeonjun then realized the boy was just doing that and scoffed in his face dumfounded. “You were bored, huh? Do I look like some nanny to you?”

“You quite do, actually,” answered Soobin knowing that would have the boy in front of him ticking; Yeonjun licked his lips, an amused smile spreading on his face before he took a step away from his door, allowing the young prince to step into his own little world.

“You said you liked the clothes, right?” he asked, closing the door after Soobin got into his complex, the prince looking around pointing in his mind at every difference between yours and his. Your place was way tidier than this one, even thought it had been a little too small for his imagination. Yeonjun’s place seemed even smaller, crampier, the walls were covered by drawn papers and the prince noticed how fabrics were all over the place.

Yeonjun dragged Soobin down the small hall and inside a new room filled with half-dressed and stabbed with needles mannequins. “Since you’re my precious friend’s friend I’ll make something nice for you, whatya’ think? Aren’t I the nicest?” Yeonjun grinned at the prince and approached him, a measuring tape in his hand falling long to the floor. “You look way better than last night, dude… the magic of water and soap.” Soobin scoffed at the words, he is an hygienic man, he just had the terrible luck of magically appearing in the sewers. Still, being kind enough to ignore Yeonjun’s words, the prince let him took his measures, obediently lifting his arms when told to. Even thought Yeonjun was particularly rough, it was a nice feeling, something familiar he had done countless of times back at home.

Yeonjun walked around the room after dropping the measuring tape somewhere on the floor carelessly, moving in between the mannequins with a hand on his chin while his eyes jumped through his pieces. He grabbed and dropped cloth after cloth, muttering to himself, walking to a wardrobe and stirring its inside, until Soobin heard a small ‘ah-a! here you are’ and pulled a strange looking shirt, black leather on a side, brown leather on the other.

“Want you to try some things for me,” he said, pulling his best smile for the prince before letting the clothes fall on his hands. Soobin pursed his lips, he had not received so many orders in his life like this since, well, ever. But Soobin understood common decency perfectly well as he had been taught by the best teachers in the kingdom and was not to refuse the people who had shown him enough generosity the past hours’ requests.

Soobin stripped out of his clothes, not minding Yeonjun was still in the room as he was used to people lingering around and helping him changing his clothes; on the other hand, Yeonjun didn’t mind the man stripping in front of him either, as he had got used to sudden nudity after a while of designing clothes and putting them on people. He hummed, nodding proud at the way his clothes hugged the prince’s body and even walked around his figure, analyzing every inch.

“You could be a model,” Yeonjun stated, proud at his creations. “You already are ridiculously tall, and the rest of your body proportions are good.” He opened some silk curtains revealing a big wall mirror on the corner of the room and motioned for the prince to come close. “Here, take a look, what do you think?” Yeonjun patted the prince’s shoulder before walking away, leaving him alone to look at his own reflect.

The clothes looked more nicely that he had initially thought; they were something new, yes, but they looked good on him. The leather hugging his body perfectly well and allowing him to move enough; his fingers brushed against the material, tracing the unusual division on his chest shaping a triangle. The pair of dark, baggy jeans he had wore also did fit well, he liked them, he looked nice and he seriously began wondering about implementing this ideas on his own personal clothes.

His thoughts abouth the clothes on him quickly disappeared when his eyes caught something strange reflecting behind him… What was that purple spark growing bigger and bigger by second? Soobin looked over his shoulder, there was nothing behind him, Yeonjun long gone from the room. When he turned back, he had to bit down his own tongue at what he saw in the mirror, could it be that he was going insane? Standing next to him stood a way too familiar figure, its shape too foggy to be true, his usual big grin on his face and tired, big and dark bags under his eyes.

“Well, hello there, my good old friend” said the figure, hand pressing on his chest as he bowed his head to the stunned prince on the mirror. Soobin gasped at the clear sound of his voice rumbling inside his head.

“Beomgyu” muttered the prince, trying to touch the image of his friend on the mirror with his own hand, only coming in contact with cold glass. “How-

“What do you mean, how? Why would you be friends with the best mage of the Kingdom if you are not willing to trust in his abilities?” the man snarled, eyes shining in mischief as usual as his dark eyebrow arched, long hair pulled away from his face on a ponytail. The smile on his face faltered a little, eyes closing for a second as he sighed before speaking again, less playfulness and more pain in his voice this time. “Everyone thinks you are dead, Soobin, the Queen’s- the Queen’s falling apart.” Soobin felt his heart banging painfully at his friend’s words. “I knew you were still alive, it made no sense we couldn’t find your body… turns out you are really, really far away.”

“How far away?” questioned Soobin, dreading the answer from the look on his friend’s eyes.

“Dimensionally far away,” Beomgyu sighed, rubbing his temples as if the mere thought of it made his head hurt, which it did. “But do not worry, Your Highness, I am currently working on a way for you to come back, only… it’s taking more time that I had hoped for, actually…” Beomgyu’s corner of his lips trailed down, annoyed at the fact of admitting something was resulting actually difficult for him, Best Mage of the Kingdom, him who was born gifted. “Oh! And one more thing,” the mage remembered the one little important thing he had to tell his friend, hands clasping and big smile spreading in his face. “It may be possible that the ones who did this to you are forbidden mages and they may be on their way to where you are, so be careful! I’ll contact you again with good news, toodles!”

While the image of his friend simply dispelled, Soobin stood in his place looking at his alone reflection with his mouth slightly open after the new information he had just received, especially the last bit; they were still coming after him? They sure didn’t want him just gone but dead. Not only that but he was facing against forbidden mages, the only ones he did not know how to fight against. Soobin, on the contrary of Beomgyu, had not been born with the blessing of magical powers; he had the power of the crown on his shoulders, he had been trained by the best swordsmen in the kingdom, he had been taught by the best teachers of his domain, he had been provided by the best alchemists on items to protect himself against magical powers, but he did possessed them.

“Hey, were you talking to someone?”

Soobin flinched, quickly turning around and grabbing the first thing around; a large piece of wood with fabric around it. Yeonjun looked funnily at the boy and raised a hand, biting down a laugh. “Easy, boy, I come in peace.” Soobin grimaced apologetically at the man, a little ashamed by his reaction but he felt on edge, and then letting the fabrics back on its place. His eyes going at Yeonjun again and particularly at the pair of boots in his hand. “I was getting these babies- now look here, this are my most precious treasure so I’m only borrowing them to you, understood? I want them back and I want them just as clean, but I can’t let you go out ruining my outfit with a pair of shoes that don’t go with it.” Yeonjun clicked his tongue before placing softly the pair of boots in front of Soobin.

Soobin did not look back at the mirror to check his reflection once he put the boots on, trusting Yeonjun’s judgement that they looked good when he started clapping, pleased at his work of art. A big smile was drawing in his face before speaking again. “You ready?” The question making Soobin frown not really getting what the man was talking about.

“Excuse me, ready for what exactly?”

“You wanted to see y/n, right? Let’s go find her then!”

Soobin guessed that it was common in this world to grab at people and pulled them, because not only he had been dragged by you once but know he was being dragged by Yeonjun down the stairs and into the streets. The prince’s eyes wildered at his surrounding; at night everything had seemed so relaxed, barely any people around at two in the morning and no traffic; now he didn’t know where to look, from the strange type of carriages without horses that made some sounds from time to time startling him to the rare vehicle Yeonjun pointed at. “Get on.”

“W-what?” Soobin muttered, not really understanding where was he supposed to get up. Yeonjun arched an eyebrow and pressed a helmet to the prince’s chest.

“On, I’m taking you where y/n is.” Yeonjun climbed onto his motorcycle, quickly adjusting the helmet around his head and hurrying at the boy to the same. Soobin clumsily copied his movements, crossing one leg over the seat and grabbing Yeonjun’s shoulder tightly in his palms when they were off to the street. Yeonjun laughed when he heard the small woah behind his back.

The air hit against Soobin’s face as he peeked over his driver’s shoulder, watching the city passing through his eyes, everything turning into a blur, something roaring under him as they went even faster dodging the cars around you. It kind of reminded him of horse-riding, the way he would ride everywhere in his free time, enjoying the clear air filling his lungs with the good company of his horse.

Yeonjun started slowing down as your university came into sight and stopped in front of the big building, sea of people coming in and out of it. Turning off the engine, his eyes surfed the crowd looking for you and lifted a finger in your direction once you came into his sight. “Just in time, there she is.” He said to the prince who followed the way Yeonjun’s fingers pointed.

Soobin had to admit the way you looked the night before and the way you were looking now were complete opposites; just as you had been wearing last night some old pajama pants and a big hoodie that covered your hands, now wore a fitting pair of blue jeans that fell lose to the ends hiding most of your plain white shoes and a sleeveless maroon blouse that hugged your body nicely, your long hair falling swiftly besides your face, in a framing way and forming a kind of layer over the exposed skin on your shoulders. You were cracking a laugh, eyes closing at the action, throwing your head back and your hand rising up to cover your mouth. You looked incredible as you talked, regaining a relax composure to your friends, smile still reaching your eyes.

Soobin had met many beautiful women in his life as the castle was always point of reunion for most, but there was something in the way you carried yourself- something shouting out loud a thing he had failed to notice in anyone else; freedom. And that was something he sometimes felt he lacked.

He found himself so immersed in the image of you that he failed to notice Yeonjun getting off his motorcycle and removing his helmet, letting it hang on its grabs. “Come on, let’s say hi."

The boys walked towards you, you too engulfed in your conversation with your friends to even notice them approaching yet they didn’t fail to attract everyone else’s attention, even your friends who suddenly stopped their talking and were staring intensely to whatever was behind you. Frowning, you looked over your shoulder, eyes widening at the side of the two men staring back at you.

“So. Hot.” You heard one of your friends mumbling under her breath, making you bit your own tongue and squint your eyes to prevent the cringe on your body from escaping. “Doesn’t it look their coming this way, though?”

“Hey babe,” said Yeonjun grinning at your dumbfounded-self, feeling the burning stares of your friends on your back at his words. Turning on your heels to face the boys, you saw the prince following behind your friend and peeking over his shoulder, a soft smile on his lips as he walked ever so graced. “Happy to see us?”

“Why are you here?” you questioned, trying to make your voice quieter for your prying friends behind you. Your eyebrows knitting when you saw the prince walking away from Yeonjun’s back and stepping to his side, both men in front of you; noticing his new clothes you couldn’t stop your inquiring eyebrow lifting at your friend who only shrugged.

“Man was bored waiting for you, babe, and came to have some fun with me,” Yeonjun licked his lips before resting his arm around Soobin’s shoulders, the prince visibly cringing and tensing on his spot. “I made my job now, got him all dolled up for ya’, so why don’t the two of you go have some fun?” Your frown deepened.

“Wha- Yeonjun I’m still not over my classes-

“Oh, would you look that? Professor Kim notified he’s not feeling well today and postponed the class!” you heard your friends behind you saying, ridiculously loud and obvious for the two men to hear. Yeonjun’s grin only grew bigger and finally let go of the prince as he started backing up to his motorbike.

“Isn’t that destiny?” teased your friend, sending a flying kiss in your direction before he was gone too quickly to even try to catch him.

“Hello again, miss y/n,” Soobin made the attempt to hold your hand and even set himself ready for another bow but you quickly grabbed his shoulders and stopped him, getting near him so suddenly he immediately felt the soft scent of your shampoo reaching his smelling senses; you, on the other hand, were too focused on looking over your shoulder at your friends with a forced smile to realized the way the prince’s heart beat anxiously on his chest as your so sudden and casual proximity.

“I’ll go first, okay?” you mumbled to your friends who just nodded and formed circles with their fingers, telling you that you were fine. You turned your head, looking up at the prince who was already looking at you through his eyelashes, the soft smile on his lips unbeatable. “Are you hungry? Let’s go get some lunch so we can talk, Soobin.”

It wasn’t like Soobin wasn’t ever called by his name, he was by his closest friends and his parents, but he did not except the way his name would sound said by you so forgive him for staring blankly for a second over your head, after what it was a long, extended blink from his part, lips softly parting unconsciously. You, however, missed seeing it as you started walking first to the closest and cheapest food place you knew, Yeonjun’s granny’s ramen place.

“Oh, my! Oh, my! My sweet child!” Even thought the woman was already way past her late 70s, she had the sight of a hawk and the mobility of a thirty-year-old, so she spotted you immediately as you walked into her local. Rushing in wiping her hands on her apron, she walked out of the counter and held her hands up to cup your cheeks, smiling big at you, same eyes as your friend’s looking teary and tenderly into yours. “Look at how much you’ve grown, my god! So? What’s your lame excuse for not visiting your ol’ good granma often, kid? Is it school? Are they overworking your smart pretty brain? Do I need to go teach them a lesson? Just say the word and I’ll be there… I’ll take Junie with me- Oh! And who is this handsome boy with you?” Not even letting you speak, Granny let go of your cheeks and walked closer to the prince, adjusting the frame on her face and squinting her eyes to get a better look at his face even thought she could see him perfectly well. “Not bad, not bad at all! Is this your boyfriend? Yes, very handsome indeed… I like him- Oh! Sit down kids, sit down. I’ll go get some food for you, okay? Okay. be right back.”

Granny walked away after pinching your cheeks one more time. Chuckling softly, ignoring the warm in your cheek where you had been pinched, you sat down on an empty table against the wall of the local, Soobin taking the seat in front of you.

“Your grandmother, I believe?” He questioned and you had to actually contain the amused snort at the perfect posture the man held while sitting, trying to subtly fixing your own.

“She’s Yeonjun’s granny,” you answered, soft smile on your lips at the thought of her, your chin resting on the palm of your hands while you remembered those times from your childhood where you would come into this same place, running around with Yeonjun, eating happily the bowls of ramen Granny would made especially for the both of you; same routine for high school that started wearing off as Yeonjun and you started college, schedules not matching as much anymore. “She’s an angel, really, used to take care of me all my life.” A soft sigh escaped from your lips unconsciously. “You could say she even raised me.” You mumbled, more to yourself than to the boy sit in front of you.

Soobin tilted his head, hair shifting swiftly over his eyes. “What about your parents?” You were dragged out of your cloud of memories with his question, focusing your attention back on him before simply answering.

“They died a long time ago.”

“Oh.”

Well, now it felt kind of awkward. Not for you, though, you had grown up saying that about your parents, it was an inevitable topic and as time flew by the words lost their weight. Soobin, on the other hand, mentally cursed at himself for being so nosy, his mind selfishly remining him of his own, heartbroken parents that believed their only son was dead. “I am so sorry…” he whispered, eyebrows knitting and mouth slightly pouting. You shook your head, smiling at him reassuringly.

“Don’t be, at least in my case is not as awful as it sounds, I still was able to grow with so much love thanks to the people around me,” just as if summoned, Granny placed two big and full, steaming bowls of ramen on the table. Smiling at the familiar sight of the noodles, your eyes flicked up to look at her. “Thanks Granny, this looks delicious.”

“It better be because I made it with my love, child.” The woman placed a tender kiss on your head before her eyes went back to the prince, eyeing curiously the place in front of him. A loud laugh erupted from her. “My boy if I had to take a guess, I’d said you had never seen ramen in your life!”

At least Soobin was smart enough to hold himself from answering to the woman he had, in fact, never even heard the world; smile widening at the sight of the expecting lady whose big eyes were waiting for him to taste her food, he made sure to quicky copy your movements grabbing the chopsticks in his hand and, very slowly trying to get a hold of them, picking up some noodles in them, his lips closing around the sticks.

“Mh!” Granny laughed even louder as the boy widened his eyes, stars sparkling in them as he looked up at her in awe, noodle hanging from his mouth. “This is magnificent, miss! I must know the ingredients you use.”

“Oh, my! What miss?” You rolled your eyes as Granny fanned herself, clearly adoring being referred as a term she so long stopped hearing. “Eat more kids, I’ll bring seconds when you finish these.” Soobin nodded enthusiastically at her words, slurping eager and filling his mouth with the delicious meat. “As for the recipe, I already told you, love.”

“I guess you were hungry,” you said once Granny walked away from your table, leaving the two of you to talk alone. Soobin felt his cheeks heating up, ashamed at himself for losing his composure and in front of a lady; he wiped his mouth with a tissue, apologetically eyes looking at you.

“I’m sorry miss, this is just fantastic,” he said, mouth still covered with the tissue. Your eyebrows knitted and you couldn’t help but to wonder seriously about his state of mind as he continues speaking. “We have the best chefs and ingredients of the Kingdom yet never have I had something as fascinating as this,” Soobin put down the tissue and flash a big grin in your direction, putting on display a pair of dimples on each side of his face that got you too caught on them far too quickly. “This is yet another great thing you’ve showed me about your world, I thank you very much.”

“You’re… welcome,” you honestly didn’t know how to address the whole prince thing yet; could it be better if you just went along with it? “So, when are you planning on going back to your Kingdom, prince?”

Maybe going along with it wasn’t the best option, you thought as you watched his features somber. Maybe all you had to do was drop the man to a psychiatric hospital and end all of this. “That’s something I still do not know yet, miss but do not worry, I received a message from the Head of the Magic Tower, a good massage as he informed they are working on getting me back, the thing is…” Soobin licked his lips, anxiously putting some order to the thoughts in his mind. “I would like to ask for a favor of you, miss.”

You hummed encouraging him to continue talking, already sensing just what he was going to ask as you put two and two together.

“I would like to ask you for shelter, if that is possible.”

You inhaled sharply even though you knew exactly that was what he was going to ask for in the first place; putting down your chopsticks, your mind razed with possibilities. Just why in the world would you let a man you barely knew stay with you for how many days, adding the fact that the man firmly believed was some prince from a kingdom far away. Besides, what would you even gain from it? If all, you’d lose; more spendings meant less money in your pocket and you already had none.

Yet when you opened your mouth to say the simple two-letter word of no, it got caught in your throat as you saw nothing else in front of you but a lost puppy; nibbling at his lip, Soobin anxiously clasped his hands and looked pleadingly at you.

“I beg for you to expend your generosity just one more time, miss” he spoke again as you failed to answer. “I shall reward and return everything you had done for me in so little time once I return home, I’ll make sure to tell the mage to send at least ten chests of gold for you.”

That sentence and the exasperation in his voice made you sigh a chuckle. “You better learn my address to send those chests of gold, prince.” Soobin nodded eagerly, still waiting for you to give him an answer. “Fine, you can stay… only under the condition of you finding a job."

“A job?” repeating the world in his mouth, Soobin tilted his head and narrowing his eyebrows. “Why?”

“Because I don’t have enough money to feed you and me forever and you can't keep taking Yeonjun’s clothes for free either,” you stated, reassuming your own little job of finishing the ramen. “You did have a job before, right?”

“Well, not exactly,” he answered. “I guess my job is being a prince until I take the crown.”

“So nepo baby,”, you sighed in jealously, ignoring the flustered look the boy gave you by your words.

“Did you call me baby?” he whispered but it didn’t reach your ears as it was so low.

The both of you quickly finished the rest of your food just in time for Granny to bring seconds; conversation between you and the prince flowed naturally, him telling you all about the Fifth Great Kingdom from the vast meadows full of flowers where he’d take strolls from time to time to the big castle he lived in, big enough to host beautiful parties all night long.

Neither of you noticed the way you were being watched.

-

Soobin was lucky indeed for having stumbled upon you. Not only you had taken pity in him and decided to help him in a state he knew not everyone would, but you started teaching him about the magic in your own world. He first realized about it, about the way he was learning things in a way he never thought he could, when one day -after a few days of living toghteter- you got back home with the news of having found a perfect job for him, big smile spreading in your face as you rushed in taking off your shoes and dropping off your things in the couch.

“The public library?” he questioned as he carefully cut down the vegetables on the kitchen counter the way you had taught him to. He heard the water running as you washed your hands quickly beside him.

“Yeah, turns out the old librarian is a little too old and can’t move like she used to, so they need someone to take her place and mostly just put the books back in their place, maybe some watching out of people making out in a hall and nothing else.” You said as you grabbed another knife and stood next to him, picking up a few still perfectly shaped vegetables and starting cutting them at a speed Soobin had yet to reach. “It’s not a too much demanding job and you’ll get to earn some money, what do you say?”

“Well, what do you think?” he asked, stopping his hand with the knife and looking over at you. Feeling his eyes in your face, you refused to look up and continued giving the vegies all of your attention.

“I think you should try it out,” you muttered, eyebrows frowning as some strands of hair fell annoyingly over your face and you tried blowing them away.

“If you think I should do it, I’ll do it.” Soobin’s fingers brushed against the skin on your temple as he carefully pulled them behind your ear, not ignoring the way the tip of your ears were a soft shade of pink, a small grin on his lips.

You flinched a little startled at the sudden touch and hissed in pain when the knife in your hand clumsily brushed against the open palm of your hand, a diagonal cut in the middle of it where blood started pooling.

“Ah, fuck-“ You dropped the knife onto the counter, the loud clank making Soobin flinch himself a little. He watched how you bit down harshly on your lip as you rushed to the sink, whining softly as you put your hand under the running water.  “Soobin, pass me some tissues, please, I need to put some pressure here."

He didn’t need to be told twice as he quickly pulled a fist of tissues and rushed to you; you grabbed a few and quickly pressed them against your palm, after thanking him for stop the running water.

“Are you okay? Does it hurt a lot? Should I go get a physician?” he questioned, worry noticeable in his voice as his eyes followed you walking towards the bathroom. You chuckled softly; after a few days living with the man, you had learnt a few antics of him like worrying too much about things that weren’t so serious.

“It’s alright, no physician needed, I need you though, I mean-“you laughed awkwardly, cringing at your own mumbling. “I can use some help with bandaging my hand.” The both of you walked into the too small for two people bathroom and you nodded with your head towards the cabinet in front of you. “There, it should be a first aid box, could you get it?”

“Of course,” you didn’t have time to move away before you felt the faint brushing of his chest on your back as he towered over you, arms extended and long fingers pulling out the box. “Turn around, please.” He muttered as he opened the box and pulled what he thought was needed; you actually felt a little surprised to see him moving with such certainty, already used to the man who knew too little of the world or, at least, your world.

Of course, Soobin knew how to treat wounds; he used to have to tend to some of his after long, heavy hours of swordsmanship training.

So, you just stood there as he didn’t hesitate to hold your hand in his while he used his other hand to clean the cut, too focused on finishing quickly to even notice the way his big hand stood out under yours or the way your pretty fingers trembled a little at the burning feeling in your hand. The man swiftly wrapped your hand in a bandage, smiling softly after his work was finished and finally shifting his eyes to look at you, just realizing the close proximity between the two of you as you almost had your back pressed against the wall behind you; him towering over you.

“… Done,” he whispered, his fingers lingering on your hand as he gently cupped it trying to avoid brushing against the covered cut. “How is it?”

“Good” you mumbled under your breath, too caught on the way his dark eyes seemed to spark as they looked into yours, perfectly shaped eyebrows knitting in worry as you gulped and blinked a few times, trying to collect your thoughts. “… It’s good, it hurts- but it’s not good that it hurts, I meant it’s good it’s healed- I mean, cured, god at least it’s not bleeding anymore.”

Soobin chuckled softly, amused in the way your eyes furiously tried to avoid meeting his and how flustered you became by the second. It had probably been a kind of romantic moment if you hadn’t panicked at the suffocating feeling in between two walls and pushed past him, finally breathing properly once you stepped into the hall.

“We should go,” you told him quickly walking to the living room, grabbing your bag, avoiding his stare. “Let’s get you that job on the library, okay?” Soobin stopped in his tracs in the middle of the living room instead of following you, making you frown a little. “What is it?”

“I think I should finish cooking lunch first,” he said, eyes trailing back to the kitchen where the vegetables still were.

You took Soobin to the public library after the two of you quickly finished making lunch. The place was just as old as they came but still in a perfect state as their owners had always took care of it. Big, tall labyrinth of shelving filled with books of any kind you could ever imagine was what welcomed the prince as he followed you in, silence reigning, quiet whispers being heard far away.

“Hello ma’am, I brought the friend I told you about earlier” you said, lowering your voice to a whisper as you stepped in front of a desk where an old lady sat down, a book in her lap. She moved, indeed, very slowly as she looked up and raised her shaky hand to fix the glasses over her eyes, smiling softly as her sight focused on the both of you. Soobin greeted the old lady properly, whispering just like you had.

“Thank you so much, you both dears, shall we get to know each other while I give you a small tour around, my child?” she asked to Soobin who nodded and waited patiently as the woman moved little by little to get off her chair and walk to him. The prince, as charming as ever, quickly offered his arm for the woman to support herself and she gladly grab onto him, walking very slowly to the first stop.

“I’ll be over there, have fun” you said as you watched him look over your shoulder for you, wondering if you were going to tag along as well; Soobin nodded and walked away with the old librarian.

You took a seat down on an empty round table, just in front of the beautiful stained glass that reached the ceiling, tinting the inside of the library of beautiful colors as the sunshine shone through it. Pulling out your own books from your bag and settling everything else you needed, you used the time to study, already a little behind on some of your classes.

Time flew by and before you knew it, it was already dark outside. As the day went by you had seen Soobin walking over there, learning the trades of a librarian, carrying books back to their shelves, moving the tall ladder when he’d have to place the book on the top of it, pushing the little cart when the books were too much to move by himself. He seemed to have caught on quickly on his tasks, stopping from time to time to ask the old lady behind the desk a few things.

“Hey, isn’t that guy so cute?” you heard the quiet conversation of a few people sitting on the table next to yours, you quickly tried to log your ears off the conversation. “Do you think I should ask him for his number?”

“I know, right? I’ve been staring at him all day, he’s so dreamy” another one said, sighing in love after. “But be honest, a guy like that must be taken, right?”

“Well, we won’t know until we ask him.”

“You should do it.”

You closed your book harshly, the sound rumbling on the quietness of the library, some heads turning in your direction, Soobin’s included. The boy smiled at the sight of you, awkwardly shifting in your seat and mumbling a quietly sorry to the people whose silence had been disturbed by you. He put down a few books on a random shelf and moved towards you, oblivious to the flustered group of people who had just been walking about him.

“Hey,” he mumbled, his hands resting against the wood of your table as he leaned in, his eyes looking down at your texts. You looked up quickly, too immersed in your own thoughts to have realized he had gotten close. “The lady told me I could leave already a while ago, should we go back home?”

Something in the way he muttered the last few words made you flinch inside, closing your hand over your thigh under the table, invisible to the boy’s eyes as you try to sound relaxed answering. “Let’s go,”

“I will let her know then” He said, smiling at you before almost jogging back to the librarian’s desk while you exhaled the air that was retained in you, quickly picking up your things.

“See? Told you a guy like him would be taken already” “Agh, I’m so jealous.”

“Miss y/n, close your eyes” was the first thing Soobin told you when the both of you walked out the library; arching an eyebrow at him, you eyed him suspiciously.

“Why should I?” you questioned, noticing the way he hid his hands behind his back, excited smile on his heart-shaped, pink lips that quickly shifted into a soft pout at your words, thinking over what to say.

“Mmh… please?” he tried again, the smile coming back to his face even more beautifully than before. You rolled your eyes but still closed them afterwards, mumbling a soft okay. A few seconds passes before you heard him speak again. “Okay, open up now, please.”

The first thing you saw were his shiny eyes waiting for your reaction; the second thing you saw was the envelope he held in his hands. His first pay. You laughed, smile growing on your face finding excitement his too cute for his own good.

“Congrats!” you said acting too fast to actually think about what were you doing when you closed your arms around his frame, patting his back softly a few times before your body stiffened and your hand froze in midair. “Oh- sorry, I didn’t rea- hmp!” Before you could pull away from him, his large arms caught you in between him, pushing you back into him, feeling the heat of his body irradiating towards you. Your chin was barely hanging from his shoulder, tip of your toes touching the ground and Soobin shrinking a little. You pat him subtly on his back when the hug got too long for the sake of your sanity, clearing your throat once. “Mh.” Then twice, a little louder as you bumped your fist against your closed lips. “Mh mh!” Following the increase of your pats on his back.

Soobin’s hold around you loosened up and you put a step of space in between you, pretending as it your tinted cheeks weren’t visible to the eye at all. “What do you say about hanging out to celebrate your step into full adulthood?” you said, grin spreading in your face as the idea came into your mind.

“That’s sounds about right, miss y/n” the prince answered, adoring the way your small bLush spread through your face and ears to his display. “Where shall we go?” he questioned as he started walking next to you, following whatever you were headed.

Neon lights were the first thing that caught Soobin’s attention as the both of you stepped into the arcade. Fortunately for you, as it was still a day of the week there weren’t many people around so most of the games were free. You smiled excited as you looked around, reminding how many times you used to come with Yeonjun after a long day of classes in high school. Soobin was starstrucked as he looked just everywhere, from the colorful platform some kids were jumping while facing the big screen grabbing themselves onto a railing behind them to the people holding false guns and shooting at the zombies displaying on the screen.

“Come on! We need to get some coins to use the games,” you said, excitement in your voice as you pulled Soobin from the sleeve. He eyed curiously at the little machine you two stopped at, noticing how you were pulling out some bills from your wallet.

“Wait, let me” he said pulling the first bill from his own payment, softly putting your money down.

“You sure? I mean, it’s literally your first own money,” you mumbled, trying to put your own bill inside the machine’s mouth but again being stopped by the man stepping in between you and the machine and peeking over his shoulder while inserted the bill.

“I owe you so much, miss y/n.”

You crossed your arms in your chest, tilting your head as you peeked beside him to look at the coins falling in exchange of the bill. “You should stop that, you know?”

Soobin and you started grabbing all of your coins, putting most of them in your pockets. His eyebrows furrowed, not really getting what you meant. “Stop what?”

“Calling me miss,” you stated watching from the corner of your eye his own eyes widening subtly at your words. “I think we’re close enough if you paying the arcade, Soobin” you said purposely accentuating and pronouncing every letter in his name. “Call me by name.”

“Now?” he questioned trying to remain looking calm which he did not very well. You nodded. “… Y/n, what do we do now?” Oh, the way he said your name was so sweet.

You took the prince to the basics first; killing some 3dimentional zombies was easy and, surprisingly, you learnt that the boy next to you had an incredibly aim, his points instantly going over yours in seconds. And, of course, when the both of you moved to shooting basketballs to the hoop, he was obviously advantaged thanks to his tall heigh, so Soobin just watched amused at you jumping in your spot throwing balls mindlessly at the hoop, uncontrollably laugh escaping from you as you watched the balls bouncing out of it.

You panted when the game ended, a small pout on your lips as you looked at the scores; Soobin missed the scores that indicated he had won again as his eyes were glued on the way your hair was ruffled and your cheeks were tinted red due to the effort you had put. Smile naturally growing in his face when you turned to look at him and stick out your tongue in his direction. He couldn’t help but laugh, oh, weren’t you so cute?

“I want to try this one,” he said after a short walking in search for the next game, stopping in front of the machine that caught his attention by the big colorful hammers it had. You quickly inserted a coin and grabbed one of the hammers, Soobin copying your action. “Wait, how does this one wor-

He was rudely cut off when you hit the machine with your hammer, a chuckle coming from your lips as your eyes waited carefully to the next prying head for you to smash. Soobin quickly caught on what the game was about but he found himself getting distracted by the not-so-subtly way you crashed the hammer against the machine.

“Uh? Hey!” you protested when Soobin gave you a small push with his hip, making you lose your focus. He chuckled and continued hitting his hammer against the strange gnomes’ heads that peeked out from it. You huffed annoyed at him and returned the push with your hip a little harsher. “Stupid” you mumbled under your breath.

Soobin scoffed and didn’t hesitate to lift his hand and spread it around your shoulders, his fingers finding the skin on your cheek, pinching and pulling from it making you look away from the gnomes and squeal as you try to get him off you. Your hand quickly pressed against his chin, pushing his face up to look away as well; you heard him groan annoyed as he too try to fight your hold back.

The game quickly came to an end and the two of you ended with the lowest possible scores ever. You turned to look at him retracting your hand from his face and pointing your finger at him. “You’re a cheater, prince!” You exclaimed; your cheek still caught in between his fingers. He laughed at the way your skin stretched and finally let go you, his hand softly brushing against your back, little marks around his eyes appearing as he held the most beautiful smile ever.

“Cute” he said, caughting you by surprise.

“W-what?”

“Don’t get mad at me, you cute thing” He said clearer this time, his finger now brushing a strand of hair out of your face and behind your ear. Your mouth opened a little bit as you searched for words in your mind; Soobin chuckled before taking a step back. “It makes me want to beat you at every game.”

The two of you went on and on until your coins started weighting less and less in your pockets. You smiled as you pointed at the photobooth on a corner, quickly walking toward the machine and moving the curtain to get into it. When Soobin didn’t walk behind you, you peeked your head through the cloth and furrowed your eyebrows at him.

“What’s wrong? Come here,” you demanded, your hand quickly finding his wrist and pulling him inside.

“What is this thing?” he asked as he clumsily took a seat beside you inside the cramped photobooth. He watched how you inserted one coin and soon after the image of the two of you, hairs ruffled after so much playing and sparkly eyes, appeared in the screen in front of you.

“Let’s take some pictures,” you said pressing the bottom to start the countdown. You pointed and the camera over the screen, telling him he was supposed to look at the little black dot. “Should we smile?”

“Okay.”

3, 2, 1. The first picture was the two of you, grinning at the camera quite awkward and stiff.

“Oh, look” You exclaimed, noticing the things under your feet. A malicious smile creeped in your face as you grabbed a pair of bunny ears and put them over Soobin’s head. “They suited you.”

“How does this suit me?” he mumbled looking at himself on the screen. His hand moved to the things and pulled the first thing he grabbed: a crown. He chuckled. “Here, you put this one on.”

You let him place the crown over your head. “Does the crown suit me, prince?” you asked him, teasingly while turning your head to look into his eyes. He swallowed before nodding slowly.

“It does.”

3, 2, 1. 3, 2, 1. 3, 2, 1. You took the rest of your pictures quickly, changing position and faces, then switching the bunny ears and the crown for each other’s. You had to look twice at the boy after the crown was placed over his head; it actually suits him too well.

The printed pictures came out after a few minutes; you kneeled to pick them up and smiled fondly while looking at them as you stand back up, they came out cute. You handed them to Soobin for him to look, but he was already getting his face closer to yours to peek over your shoulder. Freezing as you felt his breath hitting the skin on your neck. “Cute.” He repeated, knowing perfectly well how he was too close to you now; his big hand rested over your shoulder and softly pulled from you, making you turn to face him, face too close to face. The hand on your shoulder slowly moved down on your arm, his fingers burning up the skin he touched until his fingers found yours.

Soobin lifted your bandaged hand with his up until it reached his face, softly pushing away your fingers with his chin and moving his face down to placed a deadly slow kiss against your palm with enough force for you to feel any pain. Oh, pain was the last thing you were feeling. His soft plump lips brushed against the cloth of the bandage, moving up to your fingers, kissing softly against your fingertips; his eyes never left yours.

The kisses trailed from your fingertips to the back of your knuckles and then to the back of your hand. Soobin put your hand back down and then tenderly cupped your face while his own face leaned closer, his breath hitting against your face. Your eyes flicked for a moment when his tongue swirled over his lips. “Y/n…” he whispered, his eyes savoring the way your own lingered on his lips. “Can I?”

You simply could nod and lean your face closer to his, your eyes closing before any contact could ever be made. His nose brushed yours as he placed his forehead against yours, taking a small moment before-

“Your Highness!”

Uh?

You opened your eyes only to find Soobin’s eyes as confused as yours. He pulled his face away a little, leaving his hands on your face as he frowned.

“Did also heard that or was I-

“Soobin, over here!” Soobin was caught off by the same voice, both of you looking more confused than before. Just when he took a step back and his hands left your face, both your gazes went down to the photobooth screen.

“What the f-

“Beomgyu?” muttered Soobin, frowning at the sight of his friend right there and taking the seat back in front of him. “What is wrong? Why are you contacting me now?”

“What do you mean now? I told you I was going to contact you again when we made some progress.” The mage answered, eyes looking tired as ever and lose hair framing his face. “I have good news for you, my dear friend, we are getting your golden spooned ass here on Sunday.”

 “Sunday? But that is-

“In three days.” You said, finally getting over the shock of a man appearing at the screen out of nothing. Have you been drugged? Were you hallucinating? Why was Soobin actually being called ‘his highness’ by someone? You had had to blink at least five times after the man made his appearance.

“Who is that?” wondered the mage, squeezing his eyes even thought he could see nothing from his side. “Did I appear at a bad moment? Haha!”

You took the empty seat next to Soobin before speaking to the man on the screen; God, this felt like doing a videocall. “Who even are you?” Yes, if you had to be honest, you were a little annoyed at the bad timing of the mage and it was evident in your voice.

“You don’t know who I am?” inquired Beomgyu, horror visible in his face. “I am the most brilliant child of this Kingdom, the One Blessed at Birth, the Head of the Magic Tower and His Highness crown prince Soobin’s best friend.”

Oh, you didn’t his cocky ass one bit.

“Chill, dude, I didn’t ask for your resume or anything.” You scoffed grimacing at his disbelief image. “Besides, magic here doesn’t exist so you actually are, mhm… how do I put it nicely? A farce.”

Beomgyu gasped, a hand clenching in his chest as he was about to explode back at you before getting interrupted by Soobin’s voice. “Stop, the both of you.” If Soobin hadn’t been so caught off guard, he would have found the way you and Beomgyu huffed at the same time funny. “Back to the main point, Beomgyu.”

“… Right, we can get you back on Sunday,” Repeated the mage after fixing the frames on his face. “Sunday before midnight, I will be able to create a portal into our world in… here.” The image of the screen changed from the mage to a place Soobin didn’t know, but you did.

“That’s the Han River.” You told him, feeling the way his confused eyes flicked to look at you. You scoffed. “What? Is he supposed to jump from the bridge?” The sly smile in your face started fading away when the guy on the screen stayed silent. “He’s not, right?”

“Well, he does need to sink deep to reach the portal-

“Weren’t you supposed to be a level max mage?” You snarled finding the whole idea of Soobin actually jumping from the bridge ridiculous. But then again, this whole situation was ridiculous in the first place.

“Beomgyu, is there no other way? Can’t you just open a portal in a mirror?” Questioned Soobin after analyzing the worried expression in your face.

“You know I am an elemental mage, I chose the Han River exactly because of that so as long as you have me you will be safe, my friend.” Something strange, something big roared behind the mage that had him flinching in his place, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose as he frowned looking at something behind him. “I better go now, I have work to do here. Remember, Sunday before midnight. Oh, and you better be careful about that I told you about last time… I my predictions are correct they should be in that world already.”

You watched in silence how the image in front of you started disappearing until it was completely gone. The silence surrounding you felt heavy, even thought the fait noises from the arcade still reached you, but you weren’t sure about what you were supposed to say now, maybe something like: ‘Hey, good joke! This is a hidden camera prank, right?’ or something like ‘I guess you weren’t an insane person after all, congrats!’. Or maybe you should get on your knees and beg for forgiveness for everytime you made the boy clean your dirty dishes or maybe for calling him stupid or hugging him out of nowhere or-

“Y/n?” You snapped out of your trail of thought when Soobin started waving his hand in front of your face. “Do you feel alright?”

You knitted your eyebrows, face turning to him caughting on the most important fact of all the situation, he was leaving. It’s strange how quickly you had get used to him in your life, just as if he had always been a part of it which, of course, wasn’t the case. You gulped, forcing a little smile on your face as you nodded.

“Yeah, sorry, it’s just… a lot.” You answered, eyes flicking for a second to the screen in case that rude boy would come back. “It’s a lot to process, you know?”

“Well, I’m sure I told you before I was crown prince,” he said, eyebrow arching as his eyes looked amused into yours. “You did not actually think I was some lunatic all this time, right?” The silence and the look on your face was enough for him to get an answer; he laughed, both impressed and worried. “You did not! You are something else indeed, but please in the future do not let any other strange man sleep in your home, y/n.”

“Well, I couldn’t leave you alone, dumbass.” You muttered getting a little flustered, of course you wouldn’t have let any other strange dude get into your place at midnight, him was a special case.

“I am glad it was me who you found.” He said, his knuckles softly bumping against your forehead. You muttered a quiet hey before rubbing the spot, shooting him a glare. “Sunday before midnight, would you like to come with me to the Han River?”

You scoffed. “Of course, Soobin, how else are you supposed to get your ass there if I don’t go?” You rolled your eyes playfully, soft smile appearing in your face as he chuckled. “So, prince, what do you say about getting out of here and getting something nice to eat?”

Soobin smiled, teeth pressing down a little on his bottom lip as he nodded. “I would love that.” He would miss so much the way your pretty eyes looked into his.

-

“What happened?” Was the first thing Yeonjun asked when the door of your place was opened by a half-awake Soobin scratching the back of his head, small frown on his features as he tried opening his eyes to look at the boy.

“About what?”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes and pushed past open, letting a sleepy Soobin to close the door. “Y/n?” “Sleeping.” Yeonjun nodded at his words, before taking a seat down on the couch and pulling out his phone, a unique artifact Soobin had gotten to know thanks to you. “She texted me last night, told me she wanted to get drunk.”

Soobin covered his mouth for a yawn before taking the seat next to the boy, grabbing a small cushion and hugging it against his chest. He didn't knew you were the drinking type, so Yeonjun's words didn't have that much of an effect on him. “So what about it?"

“So,” Yeonjun scoffed as he rolled his eyes. “She can’t hold her alcohol, never could, she’s so baby but that’s why it doesn’t make sense so I’m guessing something upset her…” The older male arched an eyebrow at the sleepy prince. “Do you know anything?”

“Why don’t you ask her?”

“Cause she’s sleeping.” This was Soobin’s turn to roll his eyes. “There’s this party tonight, we can go if she wants to but I’m worried if she isn’t feeling okay.”

“I don’t know,” Soobin hummed, thinking about what could have upset you so much as Yeonjun said. “Maybe… I do not think this is a reason, but maybe because I am leaving tomorrow?”

“You’re leaving?!” Yeonjun exclaimed a little too loud for ten in the morning, making Soobin wince. “Leaving where? Thought you just moved in here permanently.”

“Our deal was always temporary.”

“Why are you two dumbasses making so much noise at this hour?” you growled walking down the hall still in your pajamas, still with bed hair, still with some dry drool on the corner of your lips. Yeonjun grimaced, you were the same as always. Your friend quickly got up and jumped over the couch in your direction, trapping yourself in his arms and squishing you against his chest. “Hey?? Good morning I guess.” You mumbled, sound muffling as your face was hidden.

“Morning babe,” Yeonjun pressed down a kiss on top of your head and rubbed your back tenderly. Soobin forced himself to look away when he started getting an uncomfortable feeling down in his gut; yet he still watches from the corner of his eyes how Yeonjun pulls your face up, holding you in between his hands, squeezing your cheeks forcing a small pout in your lips while your eyebrows knit together in confusion. The prince was nibbling down on his lip as Yeonjun leaned in closer to your face, worried eyes trailing every inch of your features. “What is it? What’s troubling you, baby? Can I hit it? Tell me if I have to take care of someone, okay? I’ll make sure to tell Granny too.”

You rolled your eyes at his words and tried to speak, but your words were muffled by the hold in your face. “You’ll just let Granny do all the dirty work.” You said once he let go of your face. “I’m fine, why are you more stupid than usual?”

Yeonjun turned to look over at Soobin, mouth forming a small open pout as he pointed his index finger at you with an incredulous look on his face. “Do you see this? This is what I get for being a good older br- ouch!”

Soobin had to hold back a little laugh when you stepped in Yeonjun’s feet, making the boy dramatically fall to the floor; rolling your eyes and snapping back to him as he rolled over a few times. This was something he was going to miss, just being able to fool around like he had heard Yeonjun say a few times before he’d start bothering you, always ending up in small quarrel. Always stopping the both of you to look back at Soobin, who always stared in amusement your interactions, before rushing to him and ganging up two against one.

“Can’t believe our little baby brother’s going away from home!” cried Yeonjun as he hugged Soobin, towering over his body and making the boy squirming under his touch. “We must go hard at tonight’s party then!”

Apparently, by going hard Yeonjun meant he was dressing you up or dolling you up as he would like to state. And boy was he over the moon as he now had not one but two dolls to play with, besides that it had been a while since the last time he had the chance to actually pull some nice clothes for you to wear on a night out.

“Am not wearing that one,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest as Yeonjun quickly rushed into the mannequin room at his place holding the ugliest dress you had ever seen in your life, rolling your eyes as Yeonjun protested at your immediate negative. “For starters, it’s almost winter and I probably would freeze to death if I go out with that,” you said, pointing with your index finger at the extremetly short and thin cloth. “Besides, you know what my style is, stop trying to get me to try your clothes out.”

“Sometimes I think you know me just too well,” your friend grumbled before throwing away the little dress somewhere in the room.

Dinner time came just in time when the three of you were already dressed up party-like enough; you not in the mini dress you friend firstly wanted but in a cute lace black top, long sleeves covering you from the cold of the night, tummy a little exposed till the belly button, a pair of baggy classic blue jeans and some military boots that gifted you a few centimeters more. You were in Yeonjun’s bathroom finishing up your makeup and hair when you heard the knocking on the door. Once, twice, thrice.

Peeking through the hall, you didn’t see any of the boys near so you walked down the hall, stopping in front of the door while the knocks continued. “Who is it?” you questioned, grabbing the door knob.

“Pizza delivery!” You assumed Yeonjun must have ordered some pizza to eat before the party while you were busy in the bathroom so just you opened the door and smiled at the tall delivery man, whose face you couldn’t see very well as it was mostly hidden behind a cap but you were able to see the thin smile on his lips stretching. “Hello there, you ordered a big peperone one?”

You hummed, that was Yeonjun’s favorite. “Yeah, that’s me…” You grabbed the pizza box he offered for you and squinted your eyes, trying to get a better look on his extremely pale face, was his hair blue? “… Do I have to pay or-

“It’s already been paid, miss” he answered, faint yet still there mocking tint in his voice. You almost flinched when he looked up and cold blue eyes, just like the color of his hair you confirmed, stared into you, grin widening. “Have a good night, princess.”

A shiver trailed down your spine, skin getting goosebumps as the man quickly walked away, the light of the hall flicking strangely. You almost pissed yourself when you heard a voice from behind you. “What are you looking at?”

Soobin snickered as you gasped and turned around, hitting him instinctively on the arm, the fear on your face shifting into annoyance. “What is wrong with you?” You snarled, closing the door behind you with a swift kick with your feet and waking past him to the kitchen, hearing his instant footsteps behind you.

Placing down the hot pizza box over the counter, you walked over to the fridge and smiled as you leaned in to grab a few bottles of soju and beer. Soobin rested his back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest as he followed your every move from grabbing a few glasses to pouring down the alcohol on them. Feeling his stare, you peeked over at him and actually paid attention to the pretty clothes he was wearing, especially to the oversized white shirt that suited him really well and the way his black, dark hair had been pushed back, pretty eyebrows and eyes on full display.

You didn’t have much more time to appreciate his pretty self until your friend walked into the door as well, dressed up nicely too, grinning at the smell of the pizza and rushing in grabbing a piece for himself. He practically hissed when you offered him one of the glasses with the mix you had made. “I’m the designated driver tonight, babe, so you better down that yourself.”

“I can drink it if you don’t want to,” spoke Soobin, gently taking the filled plus one drink in your hands before downing it all almost at once, your eyes mesmerized at the way his neck moved while he gulped down. He let out a refreshed sigh after putting down the glass, looking at you curiously as your mouth hanged open, Yeonjun chuckling on the background. “This is really nice, what is this drink?”

“My man is one of us!” Cheered Yeonjun, patting the prince’s shoulder and smiling at him. You grumbling under your breath one of you before sipping your own drink, trying to control your expression while the liquor burned down your throat.

The three of you hurried in finishing the pizza before you walked down the stairs of the complex, the cold breeze of the night hugging you as soon as you stepped out of the building. Yeonjun had convinced Granny to let him borrow her car, which -he said- she never did but this time she gave in right away after mentioning your name and the prince’s. Granny’s car was a little old fashioned but it carried out the main goal of taking you where you needed to go.

“Jungkook’s party” was what Yeonjun said when you asked him earlier where were you going. So, it did not surprise you when the car stopped in front of the big-ass house in one of those private neighborhoods you never stepped foot into, music rumbling under your feet as soon as you stepped out of the car.

As soon as you crossed the main entrance, you were met by a sea of people dancing everywhere to the loud music booming in your ears. Walking in between the two boys, you held onto Yeonjun’s shirt with a hand, while the other was being caught by Soobin’s palm interwinding his fingers with yours.

It the prince had to be honest, this wasn’t what he had in mind when he heard the word ‘party’. This was the complete opposite to the parties he was so used to; no classical music nor orchestra playing live, no knowledge of the word ‘personal space’ as he watched the way people swung their bodies against each other’s, hands caressing, grabbing, squeezing for the bare eyes; lips meeting skin as if they were the only people in the room.

He himself was no saint, but at least he knew the common decency of privacy. His mind landed in the thought of you; this was your world, so if the people here just did that meant it was something you probably would do too, right? Oh, Soobin found the mere thought of you dancing with a stranger so infuriating, even more when he noticed the way some people looked at you with notorious lust in their eyes.

For a moment, you panicked when Soobin’s hand let go of yours and you thought he had gotten lost in between the people; when an arm snaked around your waist and you felt a warm, hard chest meeting your back, you panicked even more. “Uh, where’s Yeonjun?” Soobin had to press his lips near your ear for you to hear him clearly over the loud music, his hot breath with a tint of the alcohol he had drink earlier hitting against your ear and cheek. You blinked for a second, realizing you had let go of your hold onto Yeonjun while getting distracted with Soobin. “Ah, fuck-“ you muttered as you couldn’t see him around anymore, only people dancing and drinking around you.

The fact that the warm body of the prince was clinging to your back didn’t let you think properly, or maybe it was that glass of soju and beer you had down before leaving the complex that it was already clouding your mind, yet you managed to move your own feet in the kitchen’s way, a sigh of relief as it wasn’t so filled with people as the entrance. You waited for Soobin to let go of you as you weren’t going to get lost now but the boy’s large arm just rested there, his fingers pressing on the side of your waist.

“Wanna drink?” You asked to the boy behind you as you reached out your arm to the counter, grabbing two of those classic red plastic cups and then looking at the different kinds of alcohol in display; God, Jeon Jungkook was filthy rich if he let one of the most expensive Whiskeys of the industry to people’s reach.

Soobin hummed as his head peeked over your shoulder at your actions; grabbing a bottle and pouring down its content into the two cups, yours visibly more filled than his. Soobin’s free hand sneaked over you and pulled away that cup from your hands, hearing your whines in protest and chuckling softly as you squirmed against him.

“Yeonjun said you can’t hold your alcohol, y/n, you should be careful.” Said the boy before sipping the strange drink and almost gagging at his awful taste, throat almost giving up. “God, what is this?”

“Vodka” you simple answered, before throwing your head behind bumping the top of it against Soobin’s chest, and downing the cup even thought your throat was burning like hell, some drops sliding from the corner of your lips. Soobin clicked his tongue and try to pull away the cup from you but you had already emptied it. “Soobin you’re clingy tonight, what is it?” you mumbled, putting away the cup and turning around in your heels; the hand that had stayed around your waist now hugged your back as you looked up at the prince.

Your eyes were already weighting on your face as you blinked a few times to focus on his worried features looking back at you, hand moving on its own as you caressed his cheek with your fingers, heart felt like melting when Soobin leaned in even more in your touch. A lazy grin drew in your face.

“Cute.”

Soobin placed his own hand over yours against his and swiftly moved his head, lips pressing down against the palm of your hand in a warm kiss. Then he said those four words that had the spell on you breaking. “I will miss you” “Oh”

Oh indeed. You remembered why you had wanted to come to the party in the first place: to get drunk and, if possible, knocked out and, if possible, to get all of your memories with the prince wiped away from your mind because you knew, one hundred percent sure, that once he was gone for good, you’ll be left alone again. Of course, there were Yeonjun and Granny and your friends and, fuck it, even Jungkook’s Whiskey looking really good right now, but the way you had gotten used in so little time to the boy’s presence in your place and in your life was something that, once taken away, was going to left you devastated.

The mere thought of it, even though it hadn’t happened yet, made your heart clench in your chest. And so, you couldn’t find yourself to say the same to the prince, whose eyes stared intensely at you while you forced a little smile on your face, biting down at your lip to avoid looking like an abandoned puppy.

Just like him when you first met him.

Well, fuck. “Let’s go dance” you said squirming away from his touch and walking to the sea of people dancing along to the music, ignoring wheter Soobin followed you or not and just trying to forget about what was in your mind as you started moving yourself.

The prince just walked out of the kitchen and over to a corner in the room, eyes fixated on yourself as he watched carefully the way you danced, hips moving to the rhythm, hair swinging in a way that had the eye captured, eyes closed, soft smile on your lips. You were eye-catching and from his point of view he spotted some others who seemed to have caught the sight of you too. The prince was about to go on your rescue when he saw a guy making his way to where you were, but Yeonjun beat him to it; an arm hugging you over your shoulders as he leaned in closer to your ear to mumble something was what Soobin saw, clenching his hands in fists as he was too late and as he saw the way you burst out laughing at whatever Yeonjun had said.

But Yeonjun didn’t spare you too much of his time before he was gone again after being pulled away by some random girl and before anyone could come close to you, Soobin was already by your side; he was not going to repeat that little mistake from a minute ago. You, of course, didn’t notice the tall boy standing awkwardly by your side, other bodies bumping against him, his eyes just on you. You only realized Soobin had walked to where you where when a big, warm hand fell over your shoulder, turning around to look at the prince.

You smiled, he was so handsome and you were so drunk already. You didn’t even hesitate before pressing your body to his and stepping in your tip toes, your hands grabbing each side of his shoulders for support as you got near his ear, your nose playfully brushing the side of his cheek before saying to him: “Hello my prince.”

Soobin didn’t fail to notice the way your words came out lazier than usual, almost stepping into each other and he realized the alcohol must have reached your head by now when you started giggling like a small child and rested your forehead against his shoulder. His hands trailed instinctively around your small body, pressing you even closer if it was possible; your own hands moved on their own over his shoulder and around the back of his neck.

“Fuck-“ you mumbled, voice cracking at the word as you felt your heart aching. One of your hands went up and caressed his soft hair, closing your eyes when he started caressing your back on the same way.

“Come here.” He mumbled in your ear, walking away from the sea of dancing people and to a quieter hall where just a few people were, some already knocked out and some just stepping away for a second before going back to the party; the light was dim above your head so when you looked up to see Soobin you had to squint your eyes to focus his face. As soon as your gaze lifted up to his face, his hands cupped your cheeks, wiping away some of the tears that had been falling from your eyes before you could stop them. “Tell me what has got you like this, y/n.”

“… You.” You mumbled, looking away from his worried eyes, eyebrows knitting as your eyes watered even more and you bit down the pout on your lip. “I’m so mad, why do you have to leave? Why did you have to come in the first place? Why- ah, fuck.” You sobbed a little, clenching his shirt in your hands as you spoke. “It’s so sad, Soobin, I really like you in my life.”

One look at the prince’s eyes and you already got a clear answer: he can’t. He’s a prince, for God’s sake and from another fucking world. If you didn’t the worst luck of all, then you felt really sorry for whoever was a level up to yours.

“I…” Soobin chew down on his own lift, his heart beating painfully as the look in your face hurt him even more. “I like you in my life too.”

You chuckled the irony out of your body and try wiping the tears away with your own hand, but it was soon caught in Soobin’s hand and pulled away from your face.

“Y/n, I don’t think I will ever be able to forget you” he mumbled, his hand leading you to rest over his shoulder again before finding the spot on your back with his big palm and pushing you closer to him. “You have left me impregnated in you by the rest of my days so, please, rest assure that I will think and dream about you every single day until my final breath.”

Your breath hitched and before you knew it you were brushing your own lips against his, space almost inexistent in between the two.

“Don’t let me forget, Soobin.”

Truth was, you were sure you weren’t ever going to forget the way Soobin’s soft, fleshy lips felt against yours, or the way his swift movements paced your sloppy ones, or the way you drank in every single gasp of his when you would brush your tongue against his bottom lip, which you quickly became addictive to. Or the way his tongue moved in your mouth more roughly after you had bit down his pretty lip, both of his hands now holding you by your waist, fingers pressing against your exposed skin.

You don’t know just how much time passed in between kisses, but you didn’t care either. A small whine came out of your lips when Soobin softly pulled away, his forehead resting against yours, both of your swollen lips inches apart as you panted heavily, his half-lidded eyes staring into yours.

“I feel like I could do this forever” he whispered, breath fanning over your mouth. You hummed in agreement, leaning in to place a tender kiss in his lips, short but still filled with passion; then moved to the corner of his lips and then up making an invisible path of kisses to his jaw and down his long neck, a soft smile appearing as the prince hummed in delight at the feeling of your warm lips on him. His lips fell open as a gasp escaped from his mouth when you started nibbling down on his skin, alternating in soft bites and then small licks to soothe the spot. “Fuck, that feels good.”

You snickered quietly, moving up again to his ear and placing a soft kiss against it before saying: “Let’s go home, please? Wanna get some sleep.”

Soobin smiled softly, turning his head to kiss your forehead while nodding. “Of course, beautiful, should we go find Yeonjun?”

Shit, Yeonjun.

You had completely forgotten about tonight’s designater driver and, after sending him a few massages and getting no answer from him, Soobin and you started searching for your friend in the insides of Jungkook’s house, of course, making subtle stops for some kisses when you started missing the feeling of his lips or him when he’d capture you in between his arms and trapped your lips surprisingly with his. After a while, you walked into Yeonjun as he stepped out of some random room on the second floor of the house, hair disheveled, lips as swollen as yours, clothes a little messy.

He looked the two of you up and down, analyzing every detail of your state and the way Soobin’s hand still rested against the skin on your waist, his eyes peeking over your head as he stood behind you. Scoffing, Yeonjun was about to say something when a girl in the same state of him walked out the same room, looking at the trio standing outside in slight panick before rushing away down the hall.

“Isn’t that Jungkook’s-

“I won’t say anything if you don’t.”

You nodded; a silent pact made with your friend. Yeonjun didn’t need to hear twice your plea to leave before walking down the stairs and out of the house, Soobin and you quickly following his steps towards Granny’s car.

The way home was quiet, just the low music of the radio setting a chill mood as you leaned against the seat, a tired sigh leaving your mouth as you watched the narrow path outside. Yeonjun hugged you goodbye once you reached his floor and promised to see you again tomorrow.

Soobin closed the door after you walked into your own place, kicking out your boots lazily as you dragged your feet inside, coming to a stop when you didn’t hear Soobin’s steps behind. “What are you doing there?” you asked, turning a little to look at him standing in front of the mat on the floor he slept. Waving your hand at him, a soft smile drew on your face. “Come here, let’s go to sleep.”

Soobin didn’t need to be told twice; he quickly dragged his own feet, following you into your room and closing the door on his back, looking at you moving to grab some makeup wipes, an almost inaudible whine coming out of you as you were too lazy to do it, but still started brushing the wipe over your face. The prince walked closer and took the wipe from your hand, lifting up your face with a finger pushing up your chin.

“Let me help you,” he said, leaning in for a kiss before doing what you had started. You closed your eyes, grateful for his actions, enjoying the often kisses he would give you from time to time, until you heard him say he was done. Soobin walked out of your room for a second to change into a pair of clothes he had borrowed from Yeonjun as you also used the time to change into your pajamas, a sigh of relief outing you as you laid down on your bed.

“Come here Soobin” you mumbled to him, reaching out your hand to the boy once he was back. He smiled and walked over, taking the empty spot in your bed next to you, his arms immediately caughting you in between them and hugging you against his chest, his lips leaving a kiss on the top of your head. Tilting your head up, you were meet by his lips brushing against yours, skin barely touching as his eyes looked down at your mouth.

“I might become obsessed with you at this point” he whispered over your mouth, the words making his lips move against yours. You nodded, that little movement, again, making your lips move against his. “I am forever grateful to have met you, beautiful.”

“Shut up and kiss me already” even if that’s what you said, you were still the one to finally close the tiny gap in between your lips, both of you instantly melting against the other. “I hope this would be a dream” you whispered, hiding your face on the crook of his neck.

“If this is a dream I wish to never wake up.”

-

You had expected Soobin’s last day on your world to be extremely sad and heartbreaking, yet once again it surprised you how ironical and unpredictable could life be.

You had had a nice sleep in the prince’s arm, waking up around midday when the unstoppable sounds of pictures being taken shook you out of your dream. And not only you had been woken up, but Soobin as well as Yeonjun screamed trying to avoid the murderous, flying pillows you threw at the boy.

“You’ll thank me later, babe!” He cried out, jumping to avoid the pillow on his crotch.

After that, everything became a little bit more chaotic, for example while having breakfast together, when you told Yeonjun that he needed to drive Soobin and you to the Han River where he would have to sink in to teleport back to his world, a world where he, Choi Soobin, the kid he had dressed himself was crown prince, king to be, him, the Choi Soobin.

“You’re both mentally ill, aren’t you?”

Still fully convinced, Yeonjun agreed to drive you to the Han River; after all, he would definitely get scolded if you were to snitch to Granny, so he just complied after a good annoying resistance.

But that was just the tip of the iceberg; what actually came after that was probably the most cinematographic and traumatic-as-fuck incident of your life, because for a second you were cuddling with Soobin in your couch spending what little time left he had, two hours left till midnight, and the other second you were both spread on the floor, caughting, unable to see anything as the room was covered in white dust after the ceiling fell over your heads, almost crashing the both of you if it weren’t for Soobin’s reflexes throwing you away and then jumping from his spot.

“What the fuck!?”

“Y/n? Wait, don’t move!”

“HEHEHEHEHEHEHE”

That laugh radiating some veil, foul, evil didn’t make you get goosebumps but a whole fucking need of a new soul as yours felt like leaving your body. Covering your mouth and nose to shakily breath in, you squinted your eyes trying to find Soobin, walking over to the tall shower you first caught a glimpse, realizing too late your prince didn’t have blue hair.

“Hello there, little princess”

“Y/n? Where are you? Run away, quickly!"

You looked up at the delivery man first with confusion, then with fear as his smile only grew bigger and bigger, his cold blue, mad eyes staring into yours with a glint of amusement.

“Who the fuck-“ you cursed under your breath after your voice cracked out of fear, the man only snickering again in delight of your reaction.

“Be afraid, you should, such a shame I didn’t get to kill you both” the man lamented, clicking his tongue as his finger pointed up at the hole in the ceiling; you expected to see some extremely freaked out upstair neighbors after the lost of their floor, but you only met nothing; pure, pitch black nothing.  “Be good, now, little princess, and I might let you live… After all, I just want his life.”

God, what had Soobin done to have the mad-ass pizza delivery man wanting to kill him that badly? Yeez.

“Oh, yeah? Over my dead body.” Of course, there were some times when you weren’t the smartest in the room, for example, right now, but you were just a girl under pressure and one who didn’t backed down without a fight.

The man laughed even louder, making you wince at his high pitch. “HEHEHE! So amusing, you little rats! You have nothing to lose yet you put all of you into saving it, haha! So very thrilling!”

You were about to make some smart comment about how you were not a rat when a loud thump interrupted you; jumping away when the man in front of you collapsed in front of you, Soobin coming into sight with a frying pan held up in his hands and a wild look on his face.

“Are you okay?” He asked, stepping over the man’s back to reach you, placing the frying pan under in between his arm and ribs, his hands grabbing your face and inspecting everywhere for any kind of injury.

“Soobin, what the fuck?” you questioned, panicked in your eyes as the man had finally shut up and now you could let your own emotions flow freely, shaky hands hugging yourself as your eyes trailed to the immobile laying on your floor. “A fraying pan? Is he dead? Oh my god, do I have to hide a body now?”

“Hey, look at me,” Soobin squeezed your cheeks in between his palms, leaning in his face closer to yours to block the way of the delivery man on the floor from your eyes. “You’re okay, but we need to go now, quickly.”

“Go where?” you cried out being dragged by him out of your destroyed place and down the stairs.

“Hey! What happened? Heard some crazy sound from upst- woah, what’s going on?”

Yeonjun was just on his way towards your place; he wasn’t usually the one to get cranky at noisy neighbors, but what he had just heard felt like some kind of explosion and he wanted to make sure you were okay. So, all of his worries only grew when he stumbled with the two of you, covered in white dust and with a frying pan being held as if it was some kind of sword. Yeonjun got no answer, but he was just dragged down with you holding onto his arm. If there was a crazy psychopath in your place, there was no way you were leaving Yeonjun behind.

"Do you still have Granny’s car?” asked Soobin as he dragged the two of you out of the building and looked around to spot the red car. Yeonjun nodded, mumbling an of course as he stuck out the car’s keys. “Let’s go, we need to move.”

“Go where?” questioned Yeonjun, still getting into the driver’s seat while you took the seat next to his and Soobin the ones in the back. There was a loud rumbling on the ground that did not belong to the car you had just gotten in.

“Han River” he stated, looking over the window at the flicking lights of the whole building. You had to be honest, the image in front of your eyes before Yeonjun stepped on the gas pedal reminded you of fucking Stranger Things; sky tinting a shade of red yet not due to the sunset. Honks were blown as your friend drove in a hurry and carelessly through the cars, his eyes flicking to the review mirror and looking at the weird ass man standing in the middle of the street you were just a second ago, his cold eyes seemed like staring directly into Yeonjun’s as a sick smile drew on his face.

“Who’s your friend? Seems cool!”

“And really pissed off at you Soobin, what the fuck was the on my ceiling?”

“I-I can explain… And I will definitely pay the expenses of the broken ceiling, I swear!”

Driving to the Han River from your apartment was a ride of almost an hour, and if you were lucky and bad traffic wasn’t on your side, you’d be there without wasting so much time. But of course, things couldn’t go that way and just when you were about to reach the bridge crossing the river, Yeonjun stopped the car, getting stuck in between a large line of cars. You frowned as you wondered why, it wasn't even rush hour, could this be some kind of little trick from the same crazy pizza delivery man?

There's still a full hour till midnight, you thought as you you read the time on your phone. Your hands moved immediately to unbuckled your self and opened the door in the middle of the traffic, some curious eyes looking at you from their cars.

“What do you think your doing?” Roared Yeonjun watching as you quickly pulled open the backseat door and Soobin got out of the car as well. “Y/n, I swear to god, if you don’t stop right there-

“He needs to get out of here, Junnie! you exclaimed, looking pleadingly at your friend. “And I need to make sure he gets there, please, I’ll be back as soon as I can” A strong gust of wind sent your hair flying to a side, and still out in the cold air you didn't felt any cold, adrenaline rush warming up your body.

Yeonjun sighed, a hand brushing his hair anxiously before nodding reluctantly, an index finger pointing out in your direction before you were off. “You better be back safe, babe, I’m ratting you out to Granny if you don’t.”

“Of course,” you smiled at him. “I love you.” Turning to face the prince, whose hands still hold onto the fraying pan, you grabbed his free hand and starting running towards the bridge, a few honks blown in your direction as you rushed through the cars. “C’mon, let’s go!”

For a moment, all you heard was white noise and your distant pants as you approached the bridge, running and running for a very long time as the two of you got on the bridge, reaching a fair place in its middle; you only came to a stop when Soobin slowed down and pulled from your hand. The prince’s face was glowing up due to the bridge’s lights, warm and even cozy on the railings. His hair was disheveled and his chest moved up and down as he caught his breath. The sky was almost as red as blood over your heads, the fast kind increasing in speed.

"I think it will be alright if I go into the portal a little bit before midnight" Soobin said, his hand grabbing yours pulling you in for a tight hug, his nose nuzzling against the crook of your neck. "Everything will be alright once I am gone, okay? Make sure to return quickly to Yeonjun, please, just be safe."

You knitted your eyebrows, blinking away the tears you didn't want to pour right now, and hugged him back tightly, almost crashing your body against his and making him stagger a little; your hands closing in his shirt. "I'm gonna miss you so much, Soobin" you mumbled, voice falttering even if you didn't want it to.

Soobin held your head back before pressing down his lips over yours one more time, a last kiss filled with desperation and hunger and longing and affection, your hands clenching the back of his shirt. You breath in deeply, trying to print his scent into your brain.

“Aw, how disgusting.”

Then it happened all just too quickly for your mind to even process it correctly; one moment you were pulling away from the kiss to look at the standing man in front of the both of you, a few feet away, then you were forgetting how to breath as a pair of black and thick tentacles popped out of his back, moving at a speed even faster than light in your direction.

You never ever in your life thought about a pair of tentacles strangling your waist with enough force to make you feel you were about to go pop, but, of course, there you were, hanging from the bridge as you felt the air leaving your body, ringing in your ears blocking the desperate calls from Soobin who wasn’t even in a better situation from yours; tentacles grabbing him by the legs and hanging him upside down.

“Fuck! Kai, let her go!” Soobin yelled, his eyes never looking away from your pale figure, not even realizing the kind of request he had made, his mind too focused on you to realize. The pizza delivery man- Kai crooked an eyebrow at the prince’s words, a mocking smile appearing in his face.

“Oh? Should I be a merciful person with you, Your Highness? At least once?” he questioned, humming as if faux lost in thought before shrugging nonchalantly. “Okie, here you go- ups!”

Soobin screamed of your name didn't reached your ears.

For a moment, you breath in deeply, desperately gasping for air. The you crashed into something cold, harsh, making you skin burn, first your head then the rest of your body; air left you again, disappearing completly from your system, water getting too much into you, mouth, nose, eyes, everywhere. Then it burned- everywhere in your body burned but you couldn’t scream- you couldn’t move and then, you were out.

a/n: if you make it till here and read all of this i love you so much and if you liked it thank you so much<33 this is suposed to have a part 2 that im already working on!!

[lloydskywalkers]

moats and boats and waterfalls

Read on AO3

Post-Crystalized — after surviving apocalypse no. 2 (possibly 3, currently under debate) the ninja now face the unspeakable horrors of budgeting.

(Years late to the Crystalized party but here's part one of my seven billion fanfics about this season because there are Thoughts to be had about this one)

As it turns out, rebuilding a monastery is a whole lot more trouble than rebuilding the Bounty for the eightieth time. 

And by trouble, Cole means incredibly expensive.

“Re-installing central heating costs what?!” 

Kai’s horrified cry reverberates throughout the half-constructed monastery, the echo from the noticeably empty rooms only adding to insult. 

Oh, what Cole would give to have his bed back. 

“I guess we’ll have to use you during the winter,” Nya sighs, patting Kai on the back. “Lloyd, get ready to supercharge him.”

“Forget heating, do you know how much Wi-Fi costs?” Lloyd stares at the estimated summary like it’s personally kicked his pet. “Who even has that much money? God?”

“If god had money, he could’ve given Sensei Wu his inheritance and we’d all be loaded,” Jay mutters. “But noooo, ‘material possessions are the death of the soul’, blah blah blah, we’ll see whose soul is dead when the gas cuts out and he can’t make midnight tea anymore.” 

“It does seem a bit extreme, looking at it all like this,” Zane remarks. Somewhat ironically, as he’s taken one look at the bill then wisely retreated across the room. 

“Well, blowing up the entire monastery with us in it was extreme, so it figures repairs are just as bad,” Nya grumbles. 

They all shift, the mood dampening at the reminder. 

Lloyd opens his mouth. “I’m sor—”

“Do not,” Kai stabs a finger at him. “Even try.”

Lloyd slumps. “If I hadn’t gotten caught—”

“We all agreed to the plan, okay?” Cole says. “Also, no one knew we’d be sending you to Harumi, so the whole thing was doomed from the start.”

While he looks a bit miffed, Lloyd gives it up. Though perhaps that’s mostly in part because he desperately wants to avoid any more conversation about—

“So speaking of Harumi,” Jay starts. 

Lloyd springs for the window. 

Unfortunately for Lloyd, said window is currently boarded up by heavy-duty plywood, since quality window glass fell low on the list of priorities, which gives Kai plenty of time to tackle him before he can even raise his leg to kick it in. 

“No!” Zane cries. “We can’t afford anymore plywood!”

“Or like, Band-Aids at bare minimum, so don’t you dare!” Nya adds. 

“—overdramatic phase has gotta go, what are you, five — hey, no biting!”

Lloyd makes a muffled sound as he wrestles on the floor with Kai. Cole turns, very slowly, to glare at Jay.

“Oh come on, we were all thinking it,” Jay defends, reluctantly standing to help pry Lloyd from the floor. “Fine, hey, I promise we won’t talk about certain loser ex-princesses who are nice and cozy in their prison cells right now, okay? There, there, little gremlin, she can’t hurt you anymore—”

“I’ll bite you next,” Lloyd threatens, but he returns to his seat, wincing as Kai scuffs his hair. 

“Turn Oni again, and that might be an actual threat.”

Lloyd startles terribly, staring at Kai with wide eyes. “That’s — not — I wouldn’t—”

“Kai,” Nya hisses.

“Woah, hey, no, I didn’t mean it like that!” Kai says quickly. “It’s supposed to be positive reinforcement! Easing it into a normal thing, y’know?”

Lloyd growls. “Nothing about this is a normal thing—”

“Except none of us are normal, so therefore it is,” Kai interrupts him smoothly. “Also we already loved you when you were a tiny demon, turning into a literal one is nothing. Give us some credit.” 

Lloyd pulls his hood over his flaming face, thunking his head against the table. Kai pats him cheerfully on the shoulder. 

“Additionally, unless we can swindle someone by selling Lloyd in his Oni form on the black market for cold cash before stealing him back, I don’t see how this helps matters.”

Zane finds himself on the receiving end of five blank stares. Lloyd, successfully having been pulled from his hood, whistles. 

“I forget how evil you can be, sometimes.”

Kai gapes at him. “So that makes you feel better?”

“I mean, in terms of normalizing it—”

“Alright!” Cole slams his hands on the table, silencing them all. He glares them down. “Meeting room in five. We’re figuring out how to make this place livable if it kills us.”

There’s a brief silence, then Jay hesitantly raises his hand.

“Hey, so uh, we kinda don’t have a meeting room right now?”

Cole collapses on the table in despair. 

---

Twenty minutes and one session of shoving chairs into what could have been the living room later — it’s hard to tell, with all the construction markings and plywood still up — they’ve kicked off the official first meeting of the Finish-Making-the-Monastery-Livable plan. 

“Alright,” Lloyd announces, brushing his hands as he steps back from the chalkboard that may or may not have been stolen. “At the top of the list we have Wi-Fi, central air and heating, beds — huh, maybe those should go higher — running water, electricity — that one’s debatable, me and Jay can tag-team it if we get desperate — blankets-slash-pillows-slash-etcetera, stuff to cook with, actual food — y’know what, I’m putting that closer to the top—”

“So basically, we have nothing,” Cole says blankly. 

Lloyd glances at the list, then to the sliver of chalk left in his hands. “Uh. Yeah.” 

“Take the weaponry, sure, but all my albums?” Jay mourns. “I spent years collecting those.” 

“I lost the blanket we stole from that super fancy apartment we lived in for like five minutes when Lloyd was a kid,” Kai sighs. “That thing literally made it through the apocalypse, just to bite it now.” 

“Two apocalypses too many,” Nya says.

“Did the Preeminent count as an apocalypse? Like, a minor one?”

“Three apocalypses. It took three apocalypses to vaporize my closet,” Cole sinks lower in his seat. “Man, the hoodie you got me for my birthday was in there.” 

“All of our photographs are lost, too.” Zane stares at his hands. 

Lloyd murmurs something under his breath that sounds a lot like family pictures and figures. 

The mood plummets a bit more, after that. 

“Motherfu—”

“Alright, this isn’t helping,” Cole claps his hands. “We can all cry again later. Lloyd, overall mission status conclusion?”

“Well, like you said, we basically have nothing,” Lloyd sighs. “So unless Zane wants to stop chickening out and abandon his morals so we can just hack into everything and get it free, we need to find some way to pay for all this.”

“Again, I cannot hack in to rebuilding an entire cooling unit throughout the monastery, much less make the latest clothing line from Gucci materialize,” Zane says. Kai swears. “Also, that is called stealing.” 

“You call it stealing, I call it a charitable donation,” Nya says. “I turned into the ocean for this city, the least they can do is cut me a check.” 

“Besides, even if it is stealing, what are they gonna do, send us to jail again?” Jay scoffs.

Lloyd jabs the piece of chalk in his direction. “Don’t jinx us.” 

“Too bad we wasted our chance at crime and didn’t even get rich,” Kai mutters. “All we got was Nya.”

He yelps as she punches him in the arm. “What, too soon?”

“You should be so lucky to have me,” she sniffs. 

“Hey, but going on the donation thought train — do we know anyone who’s rich?” Jay asks. “Why don’t we have any rich friends?”

“Hey, you know what’s rich? That coming from the son of a billionaire.”

“Hey, you know what else got blown up? My inheritance!” 

“Please, let it go,” Zane says. “We do have rich friends, I’ll remind you, we’re friends with actual monarchy. But we can’t exactly go and ask anyone else for money, since they all already helped out so much in getting the monastery rebuilt.”

There’s a moment of pensive silence. Lloyd draws a little sad face on the chalkboard next to ASK FOR DONATIONS. 

“What if we just…sued Harumi,” Cole says. “Like, there’s gotta be some law that could work in our favor here.”

“I don’t think the court would go for that,” Lloyd mutters. “Since they’re all morally corrupt frauds who hate us.”

“Yeah! Down with the system!” Kai punches his fist in the air. 

“Also, Harumi likely has very little in the way of money, either,” Zane says. “Considering she blew up any and all assets she might have had claim to.”

“Haha, what a loser,” Nya crows.

“What if we sued Garmadon?” Cole tries. “The courts have to hate him more than they hate us.”

Lloyd scowls, scrawling a large NO on the chalkboard. “Not worth the effort. Plus, I’m pretty sure he’s still couch-surfing at Vinny’s, which means also penniless.”

“We could sue Kalmaar,” Nya cracks her knuckles.

“Isn’t he dead?” 

“Oh, yeah.” Nya looks disappointed. 

“Did anyone survive that we can sue successfully?” Jay muses. “And actually get money out of?”

“Vangelis,” Cole snaps his fingers. “Wait. No, we ousted him from the throne, so he’s probably broke too.”

“Vangelis survived?”

As they dissolve into bickering over the status of enemies potentially living-or-dead, Kai squints at the chalkboard, where Lloyd is still scratching out letters despite having completely lost the room. 

“We…are…fu—Lloyd!” 

“Well it’s true,” Lloyd huffs, finishing off his message with a flourish. “Tada. There’s my grand plan.”

“That’s not a plan, it’s a pessimistic estimation at how things are gonna go.”

“It’s extremely rude language, is what it is! I thought we taught you better.”

Lloyd simply looks pleased with himself at having recaptured the room’s attention. It is, of course, then that Sensei Wu walks into that room. He stops, looking from where they’re all frozen in place, then to the chalkboard. 

Lloyd pales. 

Sensei Wu pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers and closes his eyes. 

“My dearest nephew, you have three seconds to make that disappear, or I’ll be forced to—”

Lloyd springs for the chalkboard in record time, wiping frantically at his writing with the sleeve of his gi. 

“People would kill for that thing, and here he’s using it as a chalkboard eraser,” Jay mutters. 

It isn’t until later, when they’ve all retreated to the collective mass of blow-up mattress and borrowed blankets they’re calling a bedroom, that anyone breaches the topic again. 

There’s a loud rustling as Cole turns over where he’s precariously shoved between Kai and Zane. 

“…can we sue the mayor?”

There’s a noted pause of silence, only broken by the whirring of the cheap oscillating fan. 

“You know,” Zane says slowly. “In terms of slander and defamation…” 

An evil, sharp-toothed smile spreads across Lloyd’s face. “I like the sound of that.”

“Hey, let’s sue the new ninja, too,” Jay grins. “Can Pixal retroactively trademark our vibe?”

“You cannot sue them based on vibe appropriation.”

“Yeah, but I can sue them for impersonation.”

---

They cannot, as it turns out, sue the mayor, because legal work like that costs even more money. 

They can, however, ruin his year by filing (and forging) every possible insurance claim under the sun, so they all walk out of the office a little more satisfied than before. 

“I hope all your socks go missing in the laundry!” Nya yells toward the building as they hit the streets. “I hope you have a rock stuck in your shoe for the rest of your life! I hope you’re plagued with a mildly inconvenient headache every waking moment and never fully enjoy anything ever again!”

“Alright, alright, we’re getting looks,” Cole grabs her arm. “Let it go.”

“As much as I appreciate it, I am not going back to jail,” Jay shudders. “Twice was enough.”

Kai frowns. “Twice? When else did you get arrested?”

“We all did, re—” Jay cuts off, suddenly aware of the absolute daggers Nya is staring at him. “Uhhh…aw, snap, another mental breakdown, haha!”

“Is this the whole ‘we all have missing memories you guys are definitely hiding from us’ thing again? ‘Cause I swear—”

“I said I’m getting to it, it’s a really boring story anyways—”

“Didn’t you say you lost an eye—”

“Oh look, a window!”

This time, Jay is thwarted by Lloyd, who’s simply jumped out enough windows to recognize when someone’s about to try it themselves. Except Jay is aiming to jump inside a window this time, so they both go crashing into Pixal just as she joins them. 

To her credit, she barely flinches. “I thought I heard clown noises nearby.” 

Lloyd stares at her in such utter betrayal, the mental breakdown thing might become valid.  

“Pixal,” Jay simply begs. “Please. Help your clowns scavenge our clown dinners.”

Pixel surveys them all, a fond smile tugging at her lips. “There is a nice pizza place down the block.”

The cheers she’s met with nearly succeeded at knocking her over where Jay failed.  

Dinner that night comprises of actual, warm, take-out pizza, which nearly moves Cole to tears.

“Definitely changing the priorities order,” Lloyd says blissfully through a mouthful of cheese. “Food goes at the top, no questions.”

“Seconded,” Kai mumbles. 

“Thirded.”

“Fourthed.”

“I cannot believe, that after everything we’ve been through, we did not qualify for the post-apocalypse discount,” Zane bites out. 

“Well,” Jay says brightly. “Pixal hacked the card reader, so technically we got a hundred percent discount.”

Zane stares at her, in equally utter betrayal. “Pixal?”

She shrugs. “They can try to send me to prison. They will fail.” 

---

Two days later, Skylor cements herself as everybody’s most favorite person in the entire world by not only saving them from starvation by demanding they sit their butts down in the restaurant and eat for free, but also donating six pillows and a year’s worth of shampoo. 

“I know it’s not a lot, but I’m on the lookout for more,” she tells them. “I’ve asked other people to help chip in, too, so hopefully that’ll make things a little easier.”

“Skylor,” Cole nearly sobs into his new, beautiful pillow. “If Kai doesn’t marry you, I will.”

“H-hey!”

“No marriage necessary,” she snorts. “Consider keeping you all fed my way of saying thanks.”

“But you already helped out with the monastery,” Nya says, around the same time the rest of them assure her there’s no need for thanks, despite the fact that no one has the slightest desire to relinquish their food. 

“Fine, then,” Skyler huffs, her cheeks turning pink. “Make me say it out loud, will you — consider it my way of showing that I care about you all. Very much.” 

“Aww,” Lloyd says. 

Kai makes a face somewhere between melting and heart eyes. 

“I hate all of you,” she mutters. 

“We love you too, Skylor,” Cole grins. 

“Hate you!”

Despite her words, they all leave with six boxes of leftovers and free dessert. 

This, of course, brings another slightly-pressing issue to mind.  

---

They end up getting a refrigerator for a steal of a bargain, which is probably again influenced by Pixal’s criminal extremely generous activity. 

Given how enthusiastic they all are about getting it installed, Kai is half-expecting there to be no work left for him at all by the time he returns from the food run. 

He’s…not entirely disappointed when he walks into the kitchen, though he is rather baffled. 

The room freezes as if on record-scratch. Jay is perched on top of the counters, Lloyd has a sledgehammer raised halfway in the air, and Cole is on the ground beside the refrigerator crying. 

“What?” Kai asks, blankly. 

“The fridge…doesn’t fit…” Cole moans into the floor. 

“We didn’t leave enough space between the cabinets,” Jay informs him through a mouthful of gummy worms. “So the door can’t open.”

Kai looks at Lloyd. “So the sledgehammer is for…?”

“DIY home improvement,” he shrugs.

“Huh.” Kai glances at the cabinets. “Put some safety goggles on first, okay?”

Lloyd only gets about two swings in before Zane descends with the all wrath of the Ice Emperor and adds to the tally of times-the- Green-Ninja-almost-met-his-doom, but it’s fun while it lasts. 

They were ugly cabinets, anyways. 

---

While his love for his family could potentially fuel a nuclear power plant, Kai does grow tired of being the living team space heater rather quickly. 

The effort of keeping his power going all night just gets annoying (and exhausting) — so by the time he’s tagged in Lloyd to use his power to keep him going, they’re up to two moody ninja short on sleep, and no one wants to deal with that. 

While they’ve scrounged up a few dollar-store quality blankets, Jay takes the opportunity to highlight his accomplishments in arts-and-crafts.

“You mean your mom’s accomplishments.”

“Hey, we made it together! It counts.”

The it in question quickly gains the name “god-awful-t-shirt-blanket” simply because the blinding combination of all their cast-off shirts sewn together is impressively terrible. 

“I still think this is a waste of good clothes,” Kai grumbles. “It’s not like we have outfits to spare these days, you know.”

“Do you wanna keep heating the room at night or no?” Nya threatens. 

Kai quickly shuts his mouth and returns to sewing Cole’s old plaid shirt to one of Jay’s neon blue shirts that features a dolphin printed in enough colors to kill a man. 

“So, what do we think?” Lloyd steps back, wiping at his forehead with his arm as he surveys their masterpiece. 

Staring at the multi-colored mess they’ve patched together into a quilt, Nya announces, “It’s the ugliest blanket I’ve ever seen.”

“Harsh.”

“Hey, we did our best!”

“See if I ever sew for you again,” Lloyd huffs. 

“I didn’t say that was a bad thing,” Nya quickly interjects. “It looks a little like us!”

“Are you saying we’re ugly?!”

“Nya, no, our family genes are enough to carry us through this, I promise—”

---

They’re in the middle of figuring out how to steal Wi-Fi from the government when Tox drops by, Karloff in tow. 

“You really…need…to get an elevator…or something,” she pants, red-faced and sweaty as she hauls several large bags behind her.

In contrast, Karloff looks unfazed, casually toting a hideously floral-patterned sofa over his shoulder. 

“Skylor mentioned you need furniture, no?” he says. “It’s not much, but you need somewhere to sit.”

“Karloff,” Jay tells him, very seriously. “This is the most beautiful sofa I’ve ever seen.” 

“Haha! Karloff is right once again,” he brags to Tox. 

Tox stares at Jay in flabbergasted despair. 

“You can’t put that in your home,” she mutters. “You can’t. It’s a crime against eyes everywhere.”

“Well, it’s better than no sofa, and we’re literally turning down nothing these days,” Nya says cheerfully. She leans over to peer at the bags Tox has managed to drag up. “Speaking of…?”

“Oh, yeah.” Tox heaves the bags in front of her. “Skylor said you guys needed help interior decorating? So I brought a couple rugs. She also mentioned something about the ugliest blanket she’s ever seen, so we called up some of the other Elemental Masters and got like, six or seven together. They’re not exactly works of art, but they’re okay?”

Kai tears open the first bag, his eyes lighting up. “They’re beautiful,” he whispers reverently. “Hey, guys, we got blankets! Dibs on the one with a wolf.”

“Oh, no, not that one, it’s from my awful middle school phase—”

“What do you mean, dibs, I want the wolf one!”

“Oh yeah? Down to fight for it?”

“You’re on. Training ground in five.”

“Absolutely not, we are not fighting over a blanket we’ve been so generously gifted,” Zane snaps, snagging Kai and Cole by their collars. 

“Yeah, we also don’t really have a training ground anymore,” Lloyd says, half-buried in a blanket embroidered with countless bug-eyed fish. “It went ka-boom.”

Nya rubs her temples. “Zane?”

“Already factored into the expenses,” he sighs. 

“Oh wow, you guys weren’t kidding,” Tox says. “Do you want, uh, like a keychain? I have some mints here too I can donate…man, Karloff, help me out!” 

“Does the monastery need a metal helmet?”

“We’re really not that broke,” Nya says hastily, pushing away the offered mints. “But thanks.”

“Speak for yourself.” Lloyd snags the mints, clasping his hands together in prayer at Tox before slipping back into the emerging blanket battle. 

Nya sighs. “Do you guys want tea? We’ve got three whole mugs, now.”

Tox glances from the other ninja, where Jay has been successfully rolled into a blanket burrito and is in potential danger of being rolled right down the mountain, to Karloff, who’s the reason said danger is potential. 

“We can spare a minute, I guess.”

The t-shirt blanket is later relegated to the living room, where it lives as a throw blanket over Karloff’s floral sofa. They unanimously decide it’s the perfect home for it, and the only real critic is Skylor, who’s almost reduced to tears the next time she visits. 

---

They celebrate their achievement of having a living room by all eating dinner on Karloff’s floral-patterned couch. This comes with a good deal of kicking and squirming and the tragic loss of Kai’s fortune cookie, but they make it work. 

“This is kind of depressing, though. Sitting in the dark,” Nya remarks. 

A muscle in Jay’s jaw twitches. “Well, maybe if someone hadn’t melted all our candles—”

“You were the one who had the brilliant idea of trying to barbecue with them, genius!” Kai snaps. 

“It was a pretty spectacular fire,” Lloyd admits. Then, hastily, “In a really cool way!” 

“Perhaps a lamp should go next on the list,” Zane says. “Rather than relying on Kai as our light.”

“Hey, I’m a great light,” Kai scowls. “I’m the light of your life. I could light this place up all day!” 

“Yes, and I’m sure it would end similarly to the time you nearly burned down a building under the belief that you were achieving your true potential, but were, in fact, just dehydrated.”

Kai gapes at Zane in betrayal. “You said you’d take that to the grave!” 

Zane carefully laces his fingers together. “Technically, I did.”

“No you didn’t!” Jay interjects. “We never buried you, so you never had a grave! Ha!”

Zane looks affronted. “I didn’t get a grave?”

“You got a statue!” Kai quickly consoles . 

“Yeah, what’d you want us to do, pick your exploded pieces out of the street for half a year then toss ‘em in the ground?”

“Oh, as if that’s any worse than being left to pour your corpse out in cups of water.”

 “It wasn’t my corpse, I was still alive!”

“You were the literal ocean. Fish swam in you.” 

“Ew, does that mean—”

“Finish that sentence and I will drown you where you stand—”

“You’re all in desperate need of counseling,” Pixal mutters. 

“Tell me about it,” Lloyd says, leaning back on the armrest of the sofa. 

Cole shakes his head. “Lost causes, all of them.”

Pixal stares at them both, expression pinched, before deciding to respect the hopelessness of lost causes. 

“Hold on, I think Kai’s crying,” Lloyd moves to sit up, only to wobble, slip sideways, and go crashing to the floor gracelessly.  

“Just like when I fell to my doom off the Bounty,” Cole reminisces.  

 Pixal’s eyes glaze over. 

---

Later that evening, Pixal adds “therapy” to the list of potential expenses on the fridge door. Regretfully, it loses miserably in the debate against hot shower expenses, so it too joins the pile of repressed memories that will undoubtedly haunt them in the future. 

“But hey, a hot shower can cure depression on a good day,” Cole says, and that settles that. 

---

Hot showers, as it turns out, are a hard-won priority. 

It’s less so after Jay, Nya, and Pixal camp out overnight near the pipeline and perform their own less-than-legal maintenance, but one of Zane’s carefully filed insurance claims actually went through the other day, so they’re taking their luck as they can. 

It’s not until they get working on the bathroom itself that the true difficulty makes itself clear. 

“Hey, uh,” Kai stares down at the patch of rotted floor he’s ripped up, wiping at the fog that’s spread across his safety goggles. “Is the base layer supposed to look like that?”

“Look like what?” Cole abandons the tiling he’s been placing to glance over. His face drops. “Uh-oh.” 

“Is that all black mold?” Nya gags, nearly dropping her bottle of cleaning bleach.  

“FSM, no wonder we’re all crazy,” Cole mutters. 

“Alright,” Kai strips off his rubber gloves. “Nothing for it. Back up, guys, I’m barbecuing this baby.”

“Wait wait wait don’t—”

Ten minutes and a good deal of hacking and wheezing through teary eyes later, Cole murders Kai while they all look on. 

Well, he attempts to.

“You filled the monastery with chlorine gas, you absolute moron—!”

“How was I supposed to know that would happen, I’m not a chemist—”

Nya glares ahead darkly as Lloyd gingerly treats the reddened blisters on her hands. 

“None of you,” Zane says, through gritted teeth. “Are touching cleaning chemicals for a year.” 

---

“Not sure I wanna know how you pulled off poisoning yourselves, but I’m kinda impressed you did a better job of it than most criminals would,” Ronin tells them, once the monastery has been successfully de-chlorinated and the bathroom tiles firmly put in place, sans black mold. 

“Maybe we can hire ourselves out to them when we’re strapped for cash,” Nya sighs.

“We’re literally always strapped for cash. We’re broke.”

Ronin laughs, clapping Jay on the back. “Welcome to adulthood, kid.”

“I don’t think normal adulthood gets their home blown up on a regular basis,” Lloyd hisses.

“Fair point,” Ronin nods. 

“Well, thanks for saving us all from a slow and painful death,” Cole scrubs his hands over his face. “We can pay you back sometime in the next century. Maybe.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it,” Ronin waves them off. “It’d be like kicking a dog when it’s down, askin’ you all to pay. Besides, I probably owe you one.”

“You sure do,” Jay glares. 

“Hey, hey, I said I was sorry for the whole human sacrifice thing,” Ronin placates. “Want some good news, at least?”

“Is it actually good news?” Lloyd eyes him shrewdly.

“Lighten up, captain trust issues.” Kai barely snags Lloyd before he lands himself back in jail. “I looked into some more of those insurance claims you filed, and you actually got somethin’ out of it. I, uh, helped the bank along a bit, with the refund.”

“Bank?” Cole whispers.

“Refund?” Jay’s eyes shine. 

“Yeah, got you all your checks right here,” Ronin says, tugging six neat envelopes from his jacket. “Just don’t blow ‘em all at once, okay? Haha.”

Zane looks as if he might propose to him on the spot. 

“Hey, this isn’t too bad!” Kai exclaims. “We got money!”

“Guys,” Lloyd says, staring at his check. “You know we should probably pool all this together and spend it on necessities, right?”

“Yeah,” Cole sighs. 

“It would be the smartest course of action,” Zane adds. 

There’s a noted silence.

“Or,” Lloyd says. 

---

In their defense, they spend exactly two-thirds of their checks on household items. 

Whether or not these are needed household items remains a debate. 

“If we’re all buying lamps for the living room, can we at least attempt to match?” Zane sighs. 

“Booo, where’s your joy and whimsy?” Jay sticks out his tongue. 

“That isn’t even a lamp, it’s a light-up axolotl.”

“The heck’s an axo-lot—”

“It lights up, doesn’t it? Ergo, it’s a lamp.”

“Ergo, what are you, Sensei Wu—”

“We’re never having guests over again,” Cole remarks, as Lloyd and Nya maneuver a five-foot-tall rendition of Godzilla into the shopping cart that may or may not light up. 

“The monastery’s gonna look rad as heck, we’re forcing everyone to come over and look at it,” Kai corrects as he tosses a set of flame-patterned curtains into the mess. 

“Absolutely not.” 

“I actually might like them,” Zane muses. “They would capture the energy of our kitchen perfectly.”

Kai beams. “Flame curtains are a go!” 

In the aftermath, they total around six individual blankets, five mismatching lamps and one light-up axolotl, a table that no one knows how to put together, one set of flame-patterned curtains, another hideous couch, and enough cutlery and kitchenware that no one has to eat out of Sensei Wu’s incense bowls anymore. 

“Alright,” Lloyd says. “We’ve got three hours until the stores start closing. Everyone take the rest of your checks, don’t think about how much of a disaster the monastery still is, and start thinking about how valid retail therapy is.” 

“Aye-aye,” Kai salutes, before immediately booking it for the clothing outlets. 

---

Three hours later, Kai’s happily blown his entire check on a new wardrobe and exactly one pair of name-brand brand shoes. He’s unreasonably proud of himself for his restraint, until he catches Cole with three pairs of his own name-brand shoes, and immediately regrets being responsible. 

He spots Jay going off in the N-Pop section of a music store, Nya investing in a sinfully-priced espresso machine, and Zane walking toward the clothing outlets himself with a high-quality pair of noise-cancelling headphones. 

He doesn’t find Lloyd until well after he’s picked up his own clothes, already sporting an oversized hoodie he could’ve just stolen from Kai. 

He’s more concerned when Lloyd proceeds to blow the last of his check at the sporting goods section of the local convenience store. Considering how long Lloyd spent looking wistfully at the candy aisle, Kai is baffled by the decision. 

He’s even more baffled when Lloyd proceeds to box up his purchase for delivery instead of keeping it himself.

He’s utterly horrified when he sees who it’s addressed to.

“Are you serious?!” he asks shrilly, torn between ripping the box from Lloyd’s hands or immediately calling the mental health hotline. “You’re sending her gifts?”

“It’s not a gift, it’s — look, it’s a long story, you wouldn’t get it,” Lloyd grumbles, plastering another layer of duct tape over the box. “Just help me deliver it to Kryptarium and I’ll show you, okay?”

Kai very much does not help, because he’s not an enabler and he cares about his brother’s mental health, but he does follow Lloyd to Kryptarium Prison and lurk behind him as he eagerly watches the surveillance screens. 

Harumi stares at the box before her, looking every bit as baffled as Kai is. 

“Who would send me a volleyball—”

She freezes, her face going utterly blank. A muscle in her jaw twitches. 

There’s a brief flash of what could be amusement, a brief expression as if she’s eaten something sour, then a fury like no other eclipses her face. 

“LLOYD! I’LL KILL YOU MYSELF, YOU THINK YOU’RE HILARIOUS—”

Lloyd’s still laughing by the time they’re escorted from the premises, hard enough that Kai has to catch him when he trips at the top of the steps. 

“What’d you even write on the note?” Kai finally asks, a bit in awe. 

Lloyd grins. “I told her good luck getting together her villainous volleyball team in jail.”

Kai blinks. “Do I…want to know?”

“Nope!” Lloyd says airily. “But I’ve made my point.”

---

Regardless of some behaviors, the mental health hotline remains a constant idea. It simply happens to come up at inconvenient times, such as when Cole drops a dresser on his foot halfway across the courtyard. 

He swears so loudly the whole monastery echoes with it. 

“Oh geez, Cole, are you okay? Why’d you lift the whole thing on your own?”

“We could have helped,” Zane rushes over. “You don’t have to do it all yourself—”

“Yes I do!” Cole yells. “I’m stronger than that, I’m supposed to be stronger, I have to be stronger or you’re all going to die next time—”

He cuts off abruptly. Zane looks heartbroken. Jay—

Is suddenly busy smacking Cole upside the head. 

“No, you don’t!” he snaps back, even louder. “You don’t have to do it by yourself! None of you do! Every time anyone tries to do something by themselves it all goes wrong and we lose someone, so we’re never — doing that — again!” 

He seizes Cole around the arms, his wild eyes meeting Cole’s wide ones. “No one blames you for the stupid tunnel. I don’t care how strong you are. We’re all here and that’s what matters, so don’t you dare put that at risk.”

“But I—”

“No.”

“Jay, I—”

“No.”

“I—”

“No!” A manic expression overtakes Jay’s face. “No, no, no! No one’s taking the blame. No one’s isolating themselves. No. One. Is. Going. Off. Alone. You hear me?!” 

The others are frozen, halfway outstretched hands caught as if suspended in ice. Kai’s expression is twisted painfully. Lloyd’s eyes are on the ground. Zane is as frozen as the metaphorical ice, and Nya looks devastated. 

“No more being alone,” Jay says, the fire in his voice giving way to something wetter and considerably more sniffly. “No more. Don’t — you can’t—”

“Okay,” Cole whispers. He carefully takes Jay’s hands from his shoulders, grasping them in his own instead. “Okay. No more going at it alone. I promise.”  

 The monastery courtyard seems a little colder, in the silence.  

“Anyone feel like circling back to the whole ‘suing Harumi’ idea?” Kai finally speaks up. 

Jay gives a wet snort. 

“Well, we’re probably gonna need to afford tissues,” Lloyd says. His own voice isn’t exactly dry, either. 

---

The downside to sticking therapy smack at the bottom of their priorities is that they all really are, in fact, not okay. 

Most of the time, they manage. 

There’s a solace in being together, a comfort in having the people you trust and care for most in the world right next to you when the nightmares get bad. When Jay awakens screaming for Nya or clutching at his throat for air, Nya is already holding his hand and Cole’s holding the rest of him.

When Zane lapses into silence too long, emotions a roiling mess that leave him paralyzed, Kai is there with one-two-three’s for breathing and Lloyd is there to draw little cats with him until the world subsides again. 

When Cole’s eyes shadow in training and his hits grow wild, Zane is there to pin him before he bloodies his hands and Jay is there to sing horrible off-key songs he loves until the panic ebbs.

When Nya stares at the water too-long, her eyes misty and her expression dreamy, Jay is there to hold her tight and Kai is there to talk until his voice goes hoarse and hers returns. 

There are other times, though, when it’s harder. 

It hits Kai this time about halfway through painting the walls of the kitchen a cheerful yellow, said paint splattered up to his elbows, courtesy of Lloyd. He glances down — to joke, to laugh, to not think—

And pauses. With the headband he’s stolen from Pixal in place, pushing back the mass of thick blond hair, Kai can just see the purple-red edges of the swollen, irritated wounds that scar Lloyd’s scalp. The twin marks are a better sight than when Kai first glimpsed them, bleeding circles that looked as if someone had drilled into Lloyd’s skull — but not by much. 

“S’fine,” Lloyd mutters, catching Kai’s devastated expression. “I can’t even feel ‘em. Not really.”

“Liar,” Kai rasps. “They look awful.”

Lloyd makes a face. “Gee, thanks a lot.”

“I mean it. What if they get infected, or worse, or — have you had Sensei look at them?”

Lloyd wraps his arms around himself, avoiding Kai’s eyes. “No. I didn’t really…I did what he asked. What they both did. And then screwed the whole thing up, so it was all useless anyways, so I—”

He bites his lip, hard enough to crack the already dry skin. 

“I don’t really wanna hear anyone telling me what else I’m doing wrong with myself, right now.” 

Kai is angry enough to feel sick. 

“That’s stupid. That’s so stupid, he should — it shouldn’t be like that, it’s — why didn’t anyone—” he shakes his head. “Why doesn’t anyone ever ask us if we wanna be — if we wanna—”

Lloyd’s hand closes around his wrist, gently tugging Kai’s own hand from where it’s clawed unconsciously at his arm, leaving ugly red stripes against his skin. 

“You asked,” he says, quietly. “That meant a lot.”

Kai looks away. “Lot of good it did.”

Lloyd’s grip tightens. “It meant the world to me,” he repeats, stronger this time. 

“But I couldn’t—!”

Lloyd abandons his hold on his wrist to wrap his arms around Kai entirely, holding tight. Bony and strong and familiar, Kai’s little brother to the core. 

“Thank you,” he says, fervently enough that Kai can feel the ache in his voice. “Thank you for looking out for me.”

Kai’s voice is a miserable mess of fought-back tears. “I couldn’t even do anything.” 

“You asked me what I wanted,” Lloyd says once again, and Kai can hear the edge of tears threatening his voice, now. “That was everything.” 

Giving in, Kai drops his head into the mess of blond curls and hugs Lloyd back. Lloyd’s hair smells like blood and paint and steel and the strawberry shampoo Skylor gave them, and now it’s gonna smell like Kai’s stupid snot and tears. 

“Hey, having another hug party without me is lame.” 

Kai gives a wet, broken response as Nya throws her arms around them both. 

“Idiots,” she murmurs, resting her head atop theirs. “I love you both, you know that?”

“Ew, gross,” Lloyd snorts wetly. “Hey Kai, Nya loves us.”

“Little jerk, who you callin’ gross? And here I thought you loved us too.” 

“Well obviously I love you guys back, who’s the idiot now—”

Kai simply clutches them both and cries harder, as if holding onto them will stop himself from falling apart.

It works, in the ways that matter, though it’s always because they’re holding back even tighter. 

Later that evening, Zane bathes Lloyd’s head in antiseptic and Jay forces them all to sit through the PowerPoint presentation he’s made with Nya titled “Every Super Cool Totally Good Character with Horns Ranked”. He loses them the minute he brings anime characters into it, as everyone suddenly develops incredibly passionate opinions about the rankees, but Lloyd’s laughing too hard to have his own opinion and Kai doesn’t feel like he’s drowning under inadequacy anymore — just choking to death under the weight of Jay’s elbow for daring to insult Re:Zero as an anime “since it actually has Oni in it, idiot, your opinion is trash—” 

They get things back to being okay, one way or another. 

---

Somewhere in the third month of renovations, they finally scrounge up six whole beds. It takes a good deal of dragging and cursing, but they finally manage to move into their own rooms, the once-empty spaces looking a little less lonely. 

“Now we don’t have to all sleep together in the same room anymore,” Jay announces. There’s no small amount of celebration at that.

The celebration lasts up until sometime around three in the morning, at which point the  consistent nightmares land them all right back in the pile of communal air mattresses. 

“Just for like, one more night,” Kai yawns, as Lloyd curls closer beneath his arm. 

“Totally, yeah,” Nya echoes, one leg spread across Jay, her arm sprawled over Kai. 

“Go to sleep already, FSM’ sake,” Cole begs, before slumping over Zane. 

For all Cole’s begging, he’s still the first to act when Zane suddenly lurches up from the bed, gasping for air like he’s drowning and giving them all joint heart attacks. 

“—hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s just us—”

Cole’s hands hover, non-threatening, as Zane buries his face in his palms, breathing ragged. The others have begun to get up now as well, the slow kind of approach that lets Zane know exactly where each of them are. 

“I despise this,” Zane spits, as his hand drags down to fist over his chest. “I hate feeling like this. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it—”

“I know,” Cole says. “I know.”

“This is why — it’s so much easier—“

“It’s okay, it’s—”

“It is not! I do not need to breathe, and yet I can’t!” Zane bursts out, frustrated and frightened. “I’m not supposed to break down like this, I do not, I do not—”

“You’re not a machine,” Cole says steadily. “You get to break down.” 

“But if I—”

“You don’t,” Lloyd murmurs. “You don’t have to turn ‘em off, Zane. You’re one of the strongest people I know.” 

Zane’s head lowers, his eyes shadowed. “It wouldn’t hurt,” he says, but it’s reluctant. 

“Yeah, you’d never hurt, but you’d never be happy, either,” Kai says. “And that’d suck.”

“It’d suck for us, too,” Cole speaks up. “We’d have to live without your laugh. Without your sassy remarks. Without your kindness.”

“We’d live without you,” Lloyd says, quietly. “And you wouldn’t really be living, would you?”

Zane crumples, his shoulders shaking as he allows Kai to pull him close. 

“If it gets too much, just come to us,” Jay says. “We’ll be more, okay? We’re pretty good at that.”

Zane gives a wet, stifled laugh. 

“Don’t go, even if it’s just your emotions leaving,” Nya murmurs, her head against his. “It isn’t worth it.”

With slowing shudders, Zane lets himself relax, the warmth of their little family pressing around him. Kai is an immovable barrier at his side, save for where Lloyd’s tucked beneath his arm. Jay’s legs tangle with Lloyd and Cole’s, his hand held tightly in Nya’s.  

“Leaving isn’t worth it,” Nya echoes. “Not in any lifetime.”

---

Bit by bit, the monastery comes together. 

The smell of new paint gives way to a familiar scent of mixing elements and laundry soap, one that’s followed them since the first Bounty. They comb through every online shop until they find the exact brand of sheets that feel like the first apartment they ever lived in together. Thrift shops and sales and birthdays stock closets once again, new hoodies that are quickly stolen and passed back and forth. The collection of CD’s and movies rebuilds into stacks once again through shared movie nights and pirated music.

And little by little, with the consistent passage of time, photographs line the walls of the monastery once again.

 A little older, a little worn, but a collection of family all the same. 

---

“Except we still don’t have damn central heating—” 

“Suck it up and light the fireplace, hothead.” 

“No respect in this city. None at all.” 

[slowdrawl]

| Everybody Loves Contractors | AU NO OUTBREAK| JoelMiller X f!reader |

| 1/? | | The Walkthrough | 4k words | 18+ minors dni |

She’s got a fixer-upper, trauma, and an attitude problem. Joel’s got calloused hands, a tool belt, and a soft spot for crazy. This is going to go great. "He hums, and he’s so close that you can practically feel the vibration on your ear. Suddenly, you are acutely aware of the proximity between you. He’s practically got you caged between him and the wall; the realization makes you light-headed. A shiver rolls down your shoulders, landing low in your spine. You shrug it off and turn around." a/n Here's the start of a new series because of there's one thing I'm gonna write it's flirty!Joel with lots of banter cuz it's my AU and ur just livin' in it (if u want 2)

| Warnings | Explicit language, sexual tension, mutual pining, age gap, a little angst, mentions of DV (not described, not Joel), mentions of PTSD, mentions of death, Joel being Joel, etc. Please read responsibly.

.

The house smells like mildew and anger.

It’s written in the walls, literally. Holes punched through drywall, baseboard peeling at the edges. There are cat scratch marks on the inside of the laundry room door, it still smells like ammonia. The smallest bedroom has pencil marks in the doorframe, little ticks with dates scrawled next to them. Someone’s poor kid grew up here. You can’t help but wonder what kind of trauma they took with them in the moving van.

Five months ago, you changed the locks on your old rental and promised yourself never again.

Three months ago, you got the protection order.

Two months ago, they accepted the offer, and you quit your job in Seattle.

And now here you are, two thousand miles away from everything you’ve ever known. Standing in the middle of the living room of your new home, sweating, maybe regretting. Your whole life…or what’s left of it anyway, stacked in boxes along one wall.

You don't know what you expected. Some kind of relief. Maybe. A break in the clouds. One of those cinematic moments where a breeze rolls through the window and the sun hits just right. The kind of moment that makes life feel bearable again, that makes the future look bright and tangible.

Instead, the air is thick, dusty, humming with someone else's ghosts.

You wipe your forehead with the hem of your t-shirt and mutter, "The fuck did I get myself into," to the drywall, like it might actually answer you.

You jump when you hear a knock. Not on the door, but on the siding. 

Heavy, loud, maybe a little annoyed.

It makes the whole wall rattle, like it's got opinions or something. You’d almost forgotten that the contractor you hired was supposed to swing by today.

You peek through the window, squinting. He’s already walking backwards away from the door. Clipboard in hand, scanning the place, a frown set into his face like it’s been there since before you were born. He’s in a t-shirt, jeans, work boots. Built like a load-bearing wall, and if you had to guess, probably as friendly as one, too.

You open the door a few inches, and leave the storm door shut. "You the contractor?" you ask, for some stupid reason. Of course he is.

He responds, deadpan, rough Southern drawl, "No, I’m actually here to talk to you about our Lord and Savior." Half a smirk tugs at his mouth, but it settles quick.

"Funny." You let out half a laugh. "God don’t want nothin' to do with me. If you come back with Girl Scout cookies, maybe we can talk." You shake your head, open the door wider. "Miller, right?"

He glances up at you and nods once. "Yes, ma’am. You can call me Joel. You the one that hired me?" Do I look old? Ma’am feels old. I’m like a decade younger than him. Oh god, I need to moisturize.

"I guess so, Sir. You were the only one who answered the ad."

He huffs through his nose. "Figured it’d be worse. Place looks better than it did in the photos, at least."

You raise a brow. "You haven’t even seen inside yet."

"True. I never will if you don’t open the door, darlin’." Oh. Okay. That’s better. Darlin’ is definitely better.

You reach out your hand toward him, introduce yourself. He takes it. His hand engulfs yours. Calloused, hairy, fucking massive. You try to shake like you mean business, your dad’s voice echoing in your head about strong handshakes.

You step aside to let him in. He surveys the place like it’s a crime scene. Probably because it honest to god looks like one.

"No offense, ma’am," he says, looking around. "This place is a mess."

You shrug. "A mess was about all I could afford to buy. Besides, she’s got character." You cross your arms. "That’s why I hired a contractor."

He nods, dragging one of those big-ass hands down a particularly banged-up corner at the living room entrance. "That so?" he laughs. "Maybe we need Jesus to get involved after all—might need a carpenter who knows how to perform miracles."

You huff a laugh. "Well I got cash, not faith. Let’s see what that buys me."

He keeps walking, slow, deliberate, like each creak in the floorboards is telling him something. His eyes scan the water-stained ceiling, the slumped couch you haven’t had the guts to toss yet, the leaning doorframes.

You trail behind him, arms crossed, suddenly aware of the sweat under your bra and how empty your stomach feels. Saltines and gas station coffee aren’t holding up.

"Previous owner leave in a hurry?" Joel asks, toeing a half-unpacked box near the back door.

"If by hurry you mean five years of divorce proceedings and a nervous breakdown, then yeah. Real Irish goodbye."

That earns a quiet chuckle. You glance at him. His expression stays unreadable, but his mouth twitches like it wants to smirk.

He heads to the kitchen sink, turns the knob. The pipes groan. Nothing.

You wince.

He looks over his shoulder. "You been livin’ here without plumbing?"

"I’ve been surviving, thank you very much. It’s called character building." You laugh, “Maybe don’t get too close though.” You pick up the collar of your t-shirt and pretend to sniff it. The joke barely lands, you are indeed visibly sweaty. This is going so well. I love this for meHe looks you up and down, giving you a questioning look. It makes your pulse jump. Something about him is making you even sweatier, and you’re not being very fucking cool about it. “I’ve been staying at an AirBNB. I promise I’ve showered this week.”

He turns to face you fully, arms folded now. Broad as hell. The kind of man who fills a room without trying. "You planning to do any of this work yourself?"

You lift your chin. "Some of it."

He snorts. "You got tools, princess?" Oh… 

Wait, no, nope. Not a princess, not into a man being patronizing, even if he looks like this. Get it together. THINK OF THE PATRIARCHY.

"I have… a hammer. Somewhere."

"Mmhm.” he tilts his head, “it pink n’ glittery or what?”

He kneels down, already pulling a multi-tool from his back pocket. "I’ll get some measurements. But just so you know—houses like this? They got a way of showin’ people what they’re really made of. Sooner or later." You sigh, rubbing at your temple, feeling defeated already. “if you don’t want to take the job I understand, just let me know. Because I don’t exactly have time to fuck around here.” “I can do it. Just gonna take time is all.” He stands back up, putting the tool down on the kitchen island, pulling out a measuring tape. “You wanna talk numbers?” What you want to say is, ‘Yes. Yours. Cellphone preferably,’ but you can already taste the rubber from putting your foot in your mouth during this whole damn interaction. So you don’t. You settle on, “Yes, please don’t bankrupt me, I’m fragile.”

“Alrighty then, show me the rest of the place. We can give you a ballpark after I see how fucked up it really is.” You lead the way down the hall, you were smart—or maybe annoying, enough to mark a lot of the things you’ve found to be extra janky with sticky notes. He followed behind you, on your heel, too damn close, making notes on that fuckin’ clipboard the whole time. “Three bedrooms, huh? You got kids back at the BNB?” He asks you as you’re pacing the smallest room. You laugh, shocked. “Nope, no croch goblins, just dreams of somewhere for my friends from back home to stay in when they visit.” You look back at him, “Thinking of turning the other one into a ritual room or something, somewhere I can sacrifice goats n’ shit.” He doesn’t respond, doesn’t flinch. You laugh, awkward this time “I think it’s haunted anyway.” GIRL. WHY ARE YOU THE WAY YOU ARE? “Well, ’m not a witch, or warlock or whatever. But, I might know an exorcist if you really need one.” He replies with a wink. You stutter, “Noted,” and usher him into the bathroom. The bathroom is small, and he follows you in instead of standing in the doorframe. It’s a tight fit for two people, there are probably two feet between you as he surveys the place. He lets out a heavy breath, “Well fuck.” You groan, “Oh god, what is it? Wait. Actually…don’t tell me” You say as you turn around to see what he’s looking at. He’s just staring past you toward the wall beside the shower, the expression on his face tells you he sees something expensive to fix. “You see that?” He says, moving in a bit closer, pointing and reaching his arm past you, placing it on the wall, dragging a finger down. God, I am touch starved.

“There is, or at least was a leak in this wall. Probably why the waters turned off. Did your husband…boyfriend, whoever, not get an inspector here before you bought the place?” “See, that would involve having one of those.” “An inspector?”

You pause. “A boyfriend. Last one ended in a protection order and a move halfway across the country.” You laugh, say it like it’s a joke, but it’s not. He doesn’t need to know that , though. If you laugh about it it’s not so real, not so scary. “Didn’t have an inspector either.” He hums, and he’s so close that you can practically feel the vibration on your ear. Suddenly, you are acutely aware of the proximity between you. He’s practically got you caged between him and the wall, the realization makes you light-headed. A shiver rolls down your shoulders, landing low in your spine. You shrug it off and turn around. What in the pornhub is going on? I need some fuckin’ air. You pratically trip over your own feet getting out of the bathroom, you duck under his arm, tossing some half-hearted, vaguely-human sound over your shoulder like “Okaycoolthanksnoted.” Joel says nothing again, just watches you spin away like roadrunner or some other cartoon character with a trauma response. You stumble down the hall, leaning against the opposite wall, trying to look casual and not like you just got a full body flashbang of a panic attack from a MAN explaining water damage. Baby calm the fuck down, he’s just tall!! You grab a loose piece of paper off the ground, fanning yourself with it. It has “TO DO: 1: TRY TO SURVIVE. 2: DON’T CRY” written on it in sharpie. The irony is honestly cinematic. A few seconds later Joel emerges from the bathroom, he’s got his eyes down, scribbling something onto the clipboard. He looks unfazed, like he has no idea that you feel like he was about to go 50 Shades of Plaid on you. “You good?” He asks, low, unreadable again. You freeze. He knows, he fucking knows. You clear your throat. “Oh yeah. Just, uh…tight bathroom. I’m claustrophobic, and allergic to mold, and men. You know, just girlie things.” He stares you down, one brow arched high. You decide to pivot. “Okay, so like…give it to me straight, doc. How bad is it? Realistically. On a scale of one to ‘the screen door is actually a portal to the underworld.’” Joel flips a page on the clipboard. “Well. You’ve got a lot of issues.” “Okay, ouch, didn’t have to just say it like that.” You chuckle, “Now what about the house?” “Couple walls need gutting, bathroom for sure. You got some foundation issues we need to check into, obviously the plumbing is fucked.” He sighs, tracing a line down the page with that dumb pencil, “Obviously it needs new trim, paint. I guess you could do most of that…I can get you the contract ready by Monday.” “Monday! Cool. Everyone loves Mondays, can’t wait.” He huffs something that might be a laugh. Nice. Then it’s silent for a moment, it’s thick and warm and low-key awful. Neither of you is saying anything; the only sound is a ceiling fan rattling its chain around. You catch yourself zoning out on his forearms, watching the veins pop out when he flexes slightly and flicks his tape measure closed. He notices. You know he notices. He finally looks up at you, meeting your eyes. “You sure about this?” he asks, his voice is lower now. Not condescending. Just… careful. You consider lying. About saying yes, of course, you’ve got it all handled. About pretending like this isnt a last-ditch attempt at rebuilding your life from the ground up after everything else burned down. But you’re tired. And this stranger is looking at you like he understands the version of you that doesn’t have it together. So you say, “If I'm being honest, not really. But I don’t have too many options.” Joel nods. “Well, seems like a decent place to start, then.”

Before he leaves, the two of you migrate to the back deck—if you’re even allowed to call it that. It’s less porch, more ominous wooden death trap. You already know this bad boy needs to be re-built. It’s really not on the top of your priority list. Joel takes one look at the wood rot, trails the warped boards and groans heavy from his chest. “You know this whole thing is rotted right?” “Do I look stupid? Mr. Miller?” You reply to him snarky, you’ve given up all grace at this point. Fuck it. Being off-putting and kind of mean is my new thing. You drop yourself down onto a broken pallet, sighing dramatically, swiping your hand across your forehead. “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, Joel. She’s got character, we’ve been over this.” You hear him mutter something about termites and OSHA violations, then watch as he lowers himself onto the step. He groans like a dad. It sounds like old injuries and unresolved tension.

He flips the paper over again, then, like Blues fuckin’ Clues, he’s listing things off like you didn’t hear it the first time. Plumbing, rewiring, subfloor replacement in the kitchen, and a new water heater. Your ears start ringing with the sound of a cash register, dollar signs flooding your mind. “Then labour?” you ask, voice very brave and not shaking at all. He gives you a number. A rough, but real number. Like five digits real. You nod. “Cool, cool. Totally doable. I’ve always loved bankruptcy, I think it's sexy, honestly.” Joel tilts his head at you like he’s still trying to figure you out. Good luck old man. You see the gears turning in his head, trying to feel out how much of your sarcasm is actually just fear. Scanning your face like he doesn’t know if you’re only half joking, or seconds away from tears. The Joke’s on him. Two things can be true at one time. “I can probably… get a bigger loan,” you mumble, mostly to the coffee can filled with cigarette butts next to you. “You only need one kidney, right? Also, I’m a regular plasma donor, you know where the blood bank is by chance?”

This time he gives you a real look, softer. Something that has dad energy behind it, care mixed with a bit of pity. “I can work with you on the schedule, ‘specially if you’re doin’ some of the demo yourself. Knock her out slower, cut down on the labour cost.” You blink. “Are you offering me a payment plan? Or trying to get me to weaponize a sledgehammer for your own sick enjoyment?”

He shrugs. “Both, mostly.” You watch him stand, groaning again, tucking his clipboard under his arm. The afternoon sun is hitting his hair just right. He pulls the pencil out from behind his ear and walks over to the doorframe like it's his handy dandy notebook. “Hello, Sir, are you about to deface my property?” He writes ten digits down, right onto the trim, no paper. Just rawdogging the wood with graphite. The number is definitely bigger than the estimate he just gave you. He looks back at you, proud like he was just tagging a masterpiece. Or warning the house. “Text me tomorrow,” he says, stepping back and admiring it like it’s something hung in the Lourve. “We’ll go over the schedule then, ok darlin’?” I know it’s just for work but like… Is he into me? I love being delusional. You stare at the frame. “You need me to…make you business cards, set you up an instagram account or something?” He shrugs again, giving you a salute as he walks out the back gate toward his truck. “Fresh outta cards. Pencils don’t need WIFI.” “You need to expand your horizons. Get hip with the kids!” You holler at him, just as you hear the door of the truck slam closed. Jesus, he’s literally one hundred years old. As the afternoon drags into dusk, the cicadas start screaming, signaling you to call it a day. You glance over at the boxes lined up against the wall, spotting one with ‘TOOLS’ written on it in sloppy print. You giggle as you pick it up, you hoist the box up onto the kitchen island, and rip off the tape. When you look inside, you start laughing harder. On top of the pile of junk in there is a hammer. It looks practically brand new, and the base of it… is pink. Joel was right. God I hate that guy already. You put the hammer own onto the counter beside the measuring tape and pause. Joel must have forgotten to grab it on his way out. You grab your phone and car keys, flicking off the lights in the house, double-checking that the front door is locked and head to the back.

You walk onto the porch and squint at the phone number written on the door trim, punching the digits into your cell. You add the new contact, and then hesitate over the message box for a moment before pressing the home button and tucking it away in your pocket.

The Airbnb is quiet, save the aircon whirring in the corner of the room. It’s a pleasant sound, and feeling after a long day sweltering in the house. It’s 9 pm, you’re starving and exhausted. You start to think about the price of the renovation, and the conversation you have to have with the bank tomorrow, sighing. Now that you have an estimate, you realize that you absolutely have no budget to rent this place anymore. Looks like you’re moving into the house ASAP. You groan at the thought of losing your A/C. You'll miss it, but not as much as you’re going to miss a functioning bathtub. You make a mental note to tell Joel tomorrow that you need to start with the plumbing. You walk into the kitchen, throwing your keys down on the dining table, and walk over to the fridge. You scan the shelves and settle on the leftover sitr-fry you ordered yesterday from some hole in the wall, you pull it out along with a beer. You mumble “Please do not give me food poisoning,” like a prayer, as you throw the box into the microwave. When you’re done with your food, you throw the box into the garbage and grab one more beer from the fridge, before dragging your feet toward the bathroom. You run a bubble bath, lighting some candles you picked up from the dollar store the other day. You lower yourself into the water and let it wash over your aching muscles, letting yourself relax into it. You sip your beer and scroll your phone for half an hour, you keep thinking about him. His phone number is there, in your contacts, taunting you. You, along with the help of two beers and a calorie deficit, convince yourself that you should text him. (9:45 PM) You: You forgot your tape measure, genius. It takes him a few minutes to respond, the perfect amount of time for you to start spiraling and regretting hitting send.

(9:51 PM) Joel Miller: You’re bad at listenin’. Said text me tomorrow, instructions too hard, darlin? You roll your eyes at him through the screen. (9:52 PM) You: Fuck u too!! I was just trying to be nice 🙄 (9:54 PM) Joel Miller: sure you are. Don’t need it. (9:55 PM) You: dont need me to be nice? I’ll remember that. Three dots pop up and then, (9:58 PM) Joel Miller: don’t need the tape measure, got more than one.

You hum to yourself, flipping through your brain like a rolodex, trying to find a witty enough response but you arent quick enough (9:59 PM) Joel Miller: don’t remember askin you to be nice, but if this is it im scared to see the opposite. What the fuck does that mean? Fuck it. (10:04 PM) You: see, you say that like you wouldnt secretly love to see me come unhinged. Sounds like a challenge to me, joel. You: Kinda funny you think you’d survive it, though. Most people don’t stick around long enough to see the full show. You stare at your phone for too long, thumb hovering over the unsend button like its a detonator. He doesn’t open it, doesn’t text back. You’re left with the slow, creeping awareness that you said too much. Again. Very on brand.

You dunk your head down into the water, and you immediately regret that too. You sit up, coughing and blowing bath water out of your nose. You really are the epitome of a calm, collected hot girl today. You start to crash out. Is he joking? Flirting? Warning you? Testing your boundaries? Is this just his weird version of small talk? Are you overthinking this? Yes. Absolutely

Is he in bed right now? Reading your texts over and deciding whether he's going to just send you an invoice for a consult and never step foot in your house again? Oh god, is he going to send YOU a restraining order? You pull the plug in the bath, let the water drain out, and turn the tap on, pulling up on the little lever to let the shower pour over your body. You’re lying there, like you're reenacting some dramatic scene in a movie or music video, where someone's lying in the middle of the street getting rained on. Except you’re just on the floor of a tub, contemplating your very existence, considering moving back out of Texas, maybe you could fake your own death. You turn the tap off, and stumble out of the tub, wrapping yourself up tight in a towel, heading for the bedroom. You throw on an old t-shirt and flop into bed, mind still going in circles as you stare up at the ceiling. You go over the texts one more time and cringe harder. Idiot. That last one truly came out sounding a little too honest, even for you. Like a confession, cosplaying as a dare. You put the phone face down on the nightstand and try to rationalize it. Maybe he’s asleep, he’s old, right? Maybe he’s watching some stupid movie. Maybe he read it and is just… stunned silent by your off-putting yet endearing charm. Totally, that's the one.Or maybe, he’s now just deeply, deeply, concerned that his new client has both abandonment issues and a God complex. You silently scream into your pillow, giving up on the Airbnb ceiling, that bitch had nothing to say. Waiting. Still no reply. Sleep starts to take you, as the sound of the aircon and your own heartbeat mixes like white noise, a little too loud in your ears. You fall asleep thinking about baseboards, leaky pipes, and his hands