#it literally happened within the first few bars of the song why did no one mention it

[mintmentos]

So no one wants to talk about that mistake huh

[frostandflamesfanfic]

Come To Your Senses (Strange x Reader) - Chapter 1

Song Inspirations: Song 1; Song 2

Request?: YES (for @jamiethenerdymonster)

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.3k+

Warnings: MAJOR MULTIVERSE OF MADNESS SPOILERS!! Also infrequent language and some shaky usage of medical terms I probably don't understand (Note- TBI = Traumatic Brain Injury)

Summary: At Christine Palmer's wedding, you find yourself as the plus one of your friend -- the one and only Doctor Stephen Strange. It isn't long before you're in a rock and a hard place (quite literally) as you take a heavy blow and are incapacitated. Just when Stephen thinks things can't get any worse, enter Scarlet Witch and a teenager who can travel the multiverse. How does he handle this adventure of a lifetime?

You hated weddings, especially now. Now, it wasn’t to say you hated weddings after this particular ceremony. Although, given your current situation, no one would really blame you. For some reason, you had the genius idea to accompany your friend Stephen Strange to a wedding…

…his ex’s wedding, to be precise…

…the same ex-girlfriend that he had continued to pine over even after the invitation came in the mail.

Stephen hadn’t really been entirely sold on going to the event, if you were being honest with yourself. You weren’t even sure why you had pushed him to do this. Hell, you didn’t even know what made you offer to join him. Maybe you were just in the mood for free canapes. Or maybe there was just a promise of an open bar. 

You always loved ordering a James Bond-style martini while wearing your best “drop-dead-when-you-see-me” outfit. It made you feel like you were in the middle of the action, something you often failed to see as a nurse. In your career field, you often saw the aftermath of the catastrophes. You never had a chance to help in-the-moment. Just once you would have liked to feel like you were making a difference while something was happening, not just playing medical cleaning crews for Earth’s mightiest heroes.

A few hours into the day, you were kicking yourself for that wish. Apparently, a one-eyed monster had made it its personal mission to crash this wedding. Stephen had tried to get you to safety. He made a portal leading back to the Sanctum, but you refused. If there were people in the streets that were hurt, you needed to be able to help them – it was your duty. 

At one point, you had noticed a young girl within the midst of the fighting, climbing through the debris of a now otherwise demolished bus. When you tried to get to her in order to ensure she wasn’t injured, a flash of movement caught the corner of your eye. The creature was stretching out one of its lengthy tentacles and was heading right toward Stephen. You tried to warn him, but even if you were successful, it would still be too late. So you did the only thing you could think of:

You jumped in front of the arm just before it could attack him and were sent flying through the air. The last thing you remembered before the collision was Stephen shouting your name at the top of his lungs. Then the world faded to black. 

Yeah, this was totally the best decision you could have made in terms of how to spend your Saturday. 

=  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =

The amount of sheer panic Stephen felt when he saw your form be slammed into the concrete had escaped definition. He had tried to get to you right then and there, but was thrown about by another rogue tentacle- this time, it hadn’t missed its target. It had been some time until he had come to, thanks to the impatient material of the Cloak of Levitation. The first words that escaped his lips after his return to consciousness was your name. As he whipped his head around wildly, he noticed with faint relief you hadn’t been disturbed from your landing spot. 

However, before he could make his way over to you, there was a loud scream that startled him. The one-eyed monster had Wong in its clutches now. The elder sorcerer was helplessly swinging through the air as his weapon was embedded into another tentacle. Afraid to leave you alone and so vulnerable, Strange scanned the crowd until his eyes locked onto a young girl- the same girl which had brought big, fat, and one-eye into the streets. He pointed to your form on the ground and gestured to her. 

“See that person over there?” he pressed urgently. “Get them to safety. Now.”

She ran off to transport your unconscious body with a curt nod. Stephen and Wong (and the Cloak) fought against the intruder for a while. It had taken some time, but they had managed to skewer the monster’s only vulnerable point with a pole. The sight hadn’t been pleasant, but it had gotten the job done. Stephen didn’t take more than a moment to celebrate the victory before running off to find you. 

To his relief, he saw the girl had you propped against a wall behind a building. She also looked relieved to see him approach. “Not much has changed since I got us over here,” she remarked, gesturing to you. Stephen took that as an invitation to get closer to inspect you. 

You didn’t look to have broken many bones or lost an excess of blood. The outfit you had chosen especially for the wedding had been ripped in a variety of places. Stephen knew you’d be angry about that when you noticed it. You would definitely be feeling the after effects of the attack for weeks to come. There were a few cuts on your face from where your skin met pavement. Heart rate was normal, if anything but a little slower. 

You had been lucky…or so he thought. 

Stephen reached over and traced a shaky hand against your face. He called your name gently, as to not scare or startle you. When you didn’t respond, he raised his voice just a bit higher. Still nothing. Frowning, Stephen gently tapped the side of your face to rouse you from your slumber. He spoke your name again, only to be greeted with a silent response. 

“Wong!” he shouted across the street. “Hospital. Now!” In a panic, he looked up to the balcony to see Christine staring at him in horror. Stephen hated to have to do this, but your life was at stake here and he needed someone he could trust. “Please. I need your help.”

Stephen soon found himself pacing within the hospital waiting room. He hadn’t even bothered to change out of his battle robes. The minute he got confirmation from Christine that she’d help, he’d portaled you to Metro-General without a second thought. The Cloak of Levitation was anxious upon his shoulders while they waited for something- anything- to tell them what was going on and how you were doing. His senses were heightened at this point. Every step, every creak of a door, had him jumping to his feet and eyes scanning the room in a frenzy. Yet there was no one there to talk to him. 

“Stephen.” Forty-five minutes. That’s how long it took to see Christine walking out of the OR. It wasn’t even an hour, but to Stephen it felt like an eternity. He wanted- no, he needed- to know that you would be okay.

“What happened?” the sorcerer certainly didn’t waste any time to ask for an update on your condition.

“She’s stable,” Christine said with a nod. “We have her sedated to try and ease her back into consciousness. A few bone fractures, nothing incredibly severe. Which is…” She raised her eyebrows and shook her head in disbelief. “Pretty incredible given what happened. Um, there was minimal external blood loss. We’re pretty sure that she’s experienced a TBI. I mean, it would have been surprising if she didn’t sustain any brain injuries-”

“Christine.” Something about her tone had made Stephen uneasy. It was almost like she was hiding something from him. On any other day, he would have charted her nervous behaviour to the fact she was uncomfortable around him after their last meeting in the hospital. If it was a different situation, he could have even said it was because she was frustrated he ruined her wedding – entirely unintentional, of course. But now, after what they just witnessed. . .  “What aren’t you telling me?”

The brunette doctor before him cleared her throat and shifted her weight from leg to leg. “Stephen…” she started softly. “There’s swelling. A lot of it. With the amount of time it took to get her here from the street, there’s no telling if there’s been any damage and how much of it there really is.”

It felt like the world around him had frozen in time. Stephen never wanted this to happen, not to you. Not to the person he could always count on to be there for him. He loved seeing your bright smile, hearing your obnoxiously loud laugh at his horrible jokes, all of it. You weren’t a sorcerer, nor were you a witch, but you had your own special kind of magic. He couldn’t lose you. He wouldn’t lose you.

As if sensing his panic, Christine placed an awkward hand on his forearm. “There’s nothing you can do-”

“I could have done better.” God, he hated having to say that. It made him feel so weak. He was so used to always being in control of everything. For God’s sake, he helped save half of the universe after they were turned into dust. Granted, he lost out on five years of life, but shouldn’t that be in his favour? He’d been to too many funerals since coming back. Why couldn’t he have this one thing? Why did the universe have to toy with him like this?!

“Stephen.” Christine’s voice was firm – just as it was nearly seven years ago, when he had been too quick to fall into the rabbit hole of self-pity. “Trust me. You did what you could. Now let us do our jobs.” She tightened her grip on his forearm gently. “We’re going to keep her overnight for observation. Go home, find out what’s going on with that kid, yeah?”

“Tell me the minute something changes.” 

She nodded. “You got it, boss.” Christine turned around to head back to where you were in the recovery ward. “Although…” she called over her shoulder, “you owe me a hell of a wedding present now, Strange! I expect it tute suet! Oh, and find me something sweet, too!”

When Stephen had stepped foot back into the Sanctum, he just felt numb about the thought of losing you. His footsteps echoed throughout the halls as he searched for his companion. To his surprise, the building was empty save for a few Adepts who were visiting from Kamar-Taj. When he inquired where the Sorcerer Supreme had vanished off to, he was given an address of a nearby pizzeria. 

“You’re going to get a stomachache,” he remarked as he watched the jean-jacket-adorned teenager scarf down a few slices of pizza.

“I’m from a different universe.” The girl lifted another slice of pizza up in defiance. “How do you know my stomach works the same as yours?”

“I don’t. Just like I don’t know if you’re actually from another universe.” He frowned. “Look, I left a really nice wedding to save a smart-ass kid from getting eaten by an octopus. Now tell me-”

“Whose wedding?” Wong interrupted. 

Stephen paused mid-sentence, providing the sorcerer seated to his left with an unamused glance. “Christine’s.”

“You went? And you took her with you?!”

“Holy shit!” the girl dropped her pizza on the plate in front of her. “You married Christine?!”

“Yes.” Stephen nodded to Wong before turning his head back to the girl. “And no. What even is your name, kid?”

“America Chavez.”

=  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  = 

The last thing he anticipated to do that day was to have to defend Kamar-Taj from a grief-stricken Avenger. Stephen had tried to appeal to Wanda’s logical side, but got nowhere. He was about to give up, when he heard your voice in his head. Listen to your heart, you said. Get out of that big beautiful brain of yours and put some emotion into it. He knew you were right. 

“Your children,” Stephen spoke as he levitated in the air, “they wouldn’t want you to do this. They wouldn’t ask you to make the world suffer just to have them-”

“My children,” Wanda said simply, although there was an ounce of venom behind her tone, “are the most important thing in this world. They’ll understand. As far as your little friend is concerned…her sacrifice won’t be in vain.”

“Wanda. Please, just…just be reasonable. Haven’t we all lost enough?”

The Scarlet Witch slowly tilted her head to the side, eyes locked onto his own like a bird examining its prey from high above. “I think you’ll find what I’m doing is me being reasonable, Stephen,” she spoke. Her face went stoic and she nodded. “Besides, wouldn’t you want to spend more time being with your little girlfriend before it’s too late? If she dies, I could send you to a universe where the two of you are together and happy.”

 That got him to falter. It only took a single moment of hesitation for Wanda to seize her opportunity and attack. When Wong shouted at the sorcerers to fortify their minds, there was only one thing Stephen could think about: you. He focused on his favourite things about you. He thought about how much he enjoyed your company. Most importantly, he thought about how much you had changed his life. Ever since your paths crossed, he knew he wanted to be in your life. From the way you spouted trivia about some of the Beatles’ songs to the way you would blow pieces of hair out of your eyes when it drove you crazy, he couldn’t help but to smile at the thought of you by his side. 

“The entire might of Kamar Taj stands against you,” he said firmly.

When Wanda laid waste to the sanctuary, Stephen raced to protect America within its depths. As they waited in the dark, they made sure to block out any reflections in order to prevent Wanda from travelling into the room. The seconds stretched into hours and Stephen couldn’t help the anxious tapping of his foot against the slab-work tile on the floor. This soon led to pacing, which later caused him to collide with his friend. 

“You know, it is customary to address the Sorcerer Supreme with a bow,” Wong said in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“Sure it is,” Stephen tried to joke around, truly he did. The only thing his mind could focus on at the moment was you. He could feel the anxiety coursing through his veins while he waited for a call. It would be the only way he would know you would be okay – that you could come home to him. She isn’t yours, idiot, his mind shouted at him. Her home isn’t with you. 

“Are there any updates?” he asked instead.

Wong glanced down at the ground and instantly Stephen knew something had happened. His heart sank into his stomach and he was fighting the urge to throw up the singular slice of pizza he could hardly get down earlier. “I’m sorry, Stephen,” his friend said solemnly. “She’s…she has had a stroke. They are preparing her for emergency surgery as we speak.” Oh God, no. “Christine isn’t sure if she-”

America’s scream interrupted their discussion, both Stephen and Wong turning around just in time to see Wanda contort her body through the shiny surface of the gong. “She’s escaped the mirror dimension!” Stephen exclaimed as he moved to shelter the young multiversal traveller.

“Yeah, no shit, genius!” America shouted, moving behind Wong in an attempt to vanish from sight. 

Once again, Stephen tried to reason with the corrupted Avenger. There was just one problem: no matter what he said, thoughts of you drifted through his mind. He saw you in Wanda’s eyes when he asked about her plan. She looked almost…regretful, something that was all too familiar in your own features. He always wondered why you had that look. In the years you were friends, Stephen wanted to ask you what had made you that sad, but he never had the courage. In the back of his mind, he continued to hear your voice in his head. He really needed to stop that from happening. It affected his concentration. One minute he was fighting Wanda, the next he found himself flung against the ground…again. 

Stephen came to just in time to see Wanda- no, the Scarlet Witch- begin to extract America’s power from the young multiversal traveller. It was clear to see the girl wasn’t going down without a fight. There was a crack of thunder as a star-shaped portal appeared behind her.

Save her, your voice echoed in his head while he witnessed the Witch preparing for another attack. Save the girl, Stephen. Whatever it takes.

That’s when he flung himself in the direct line of fire for the blast and was sent reeling through the portal, America clutched in his arms. 

=  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  = 

Okay, maybe those three martinis weren’t the best idea on a mostly empty stomach, Stephen thought to himself as he watched the contents of his stomach empty into a garbage can. He wretched a few times more before standing up and wiping his lip. The Cloak of Levitation tried its best to help him, but any assistance was the last thing Stephen wanted.

“Hey,” he protested. “Cut it out.” The Cloak fluttered around his hold as he swung it around to inspect the damage. There was a decent sized burn mark in the middle of the material, presumably from the final attack at Kamar-Taj. It wasn’t irreparable, but it was still frustrating. 

With a final swish of Cloak back on his shoulders, Stephen turned his attention back to the matter at hand. “Okay America,” he said. “You have to open a portal and get us back there right now.”

“I don’t know how.”

Well, that certainly wasn’t the answer he was expecting. “You just did it.”

“Yeah, well, not on purpose!”  

“Wong is back there alone with Wanda, and I’m the only hope he has.”  

“I can’t control my powers!” America tried her best to explain, a small tinge of pink coated her cheeks in embarrassment. 

“You must be able to control it somehow!” He didn’t mean to snap, truly he didn’t. Stephen just couldn’t help it. With everything that had transpired in the last twelve hours, he just snapped. It was the truth when he told America that he needed to get back to help Wong, but he’d be kidding himself if he said you weren’t the first person to cross his mind for reasons to go back home. There was also the fact you were helpless in a hospital in the middle of a godforsaken surgery where he had no idea what was happening to you. Every instinct in his body was pushing to throw everything else out the window and never leave your side until you were healed. Yet Stephen knew there were more critical challenges at hand. “Even I could-”

Stephen! Even in his blind fury, the sorcerer couldn’t argue with your voice. He closed his eyes briefly to cling to the sound of your teasing tone. You need to be patient. Not everything can be done right away and you can’t force things to speed up. We’re not all on Strange time. 

A short breath escaped him and he shook his head. “Sorry,” Stephen apologised as he looked off in the distance. “That’s okay, kid. Even if you could get me back there, I have no way of fighting Wanda.” He had to admit, even in another universe, New York was still the bustling and beautiful city he had called home for so many years after med school. Where he met you. 

God damn it, Stephen, he chided himself. Get your head back on straight. You need to get home so you can end this and get back to her- no stop it!

“What about the Book of Vishanti?” America asked, taking a few steps forward.

“What about it?”

“Other You thought it could stop whoever was after me.” 

“Yeah, well, good for Other Me. He’s not here, is he? I don’t know where it is, so unless there’s another Other Me…” As he trailed off, Stephen’s eyes locked onto America’s slowly widened ones. 

“We need to go find…”

“Other, Other Me.” Stephen almost smiled again as he heard you cheer in his mind. There you go, Strange. Just take it one step at a time.

===================

Author's Note: So. Uh. Hi? Welcome to the first chapter of a brand new mini-series on my blog! It wasn't my intention to write something this crazy long, but after I got this request, I knew there was no other way (lol). I'm super excited to share this story with you all. Have I gone slightly insane by rewatching MoM at least twice for the sole purpose of dialogue and setting notation? Perhaps, but it's definitely worth it.

If you enjoyed this first chapter, please leave a like, comment, and a reblog. This truly helps me out and lets me know that I should continue with a story like this in the future. If you also want to be added to this story's taglist, let me know that, too! Depending on how much interaction this post gets, maybe I'll be convinced to put up the next chapter before Friday ;)

Until next time, my little sparks <3

[ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm]

I’m sort of unfairly venting at you but you’re one of the few people I follow who has been posting MCR stuff and I also want to be really excited for it all because I spent many years of my adolescence loving them. But my best friend as a teen was really awful to me and MCR was our thing and I can’t help but associate them with her. I will always love them but that ex-friend who wasn’t really my friend of course, bullied me and took advantage of me and tried to make my life hell when I didn’t submit to her manipulation. The good memories I have of this person usually have to do with MCR. It’s been many years but I still feel like she tainted my love for the band because even those good memories circle back to the bad. I just want to enjoy MCR again without her being on my mind whenever I listen to them. Again I’m sorry for venting at you out of the blue. You seem so lovely and like someone who is probably a really great friend. You don’t have to respond, just typing it out into a void is helping me process it some more I think

Hi anon! Thank you for sharing this experience with me. I'm very sorry this person ruined - or came close to ruining - something special for you and I'm sorry that they didn't treat you well.

When I was very young I got into what would eventually turn into my longest relationship ever. Like I'm sure a lot of relationships of other myopic cerebral teens, it prominently centered around music. In a disgustingly pretentious, mu-core, last.fm weekly listening chart, basement gigs and latest disks from japan sort of way. I wasn't doing very well the first time we got together, though - and neither were they, but I think it was their disposition that was affecting me so much. One of the first bands I associated with this person was the Jesus and Mary Chain, specifically Psychocandy but also their other records. For some reason - and this was in the bleak, wet, mid 2000s continental winter - I could feel this person's strange growing resentment for me, their own apathy and dissatisfaction with life, their resignation. And all of that culminated in me developing this very strange physical reaction to JAMC! When I think about it now, it's still not funny, but: I would actively start to get nauseous within a few seconds of any of their songs. Now, JAMC make very rumbly shoegaze and the vocals sound sort of like someone yelling at you from a tunnel in Glasgow through the folds of time, so it really could have just been that they're my own brand of brown noise and that that's why it made me want to lose my lunch, but - whatever, it was still a big, weird thing. This would happen even if I listened to them accidentally, even if I thought about the melodies a lot, anything.

A very long time after all of that, I left my house on a burning hot summer day and as I was leaving my courtyard, I clicked on Honey's Dead on my phone. I don't know why I did, it may have been an accident, but in the time I crossed the tiny street from my house to the sidewalk on the other side, that stupid nauseous feeling came, my stomach lurched, and then- nothing. It just sort of settled at the top of my throat, a little, and as I was walking in this bright noon sun, I realized I could handle that feeling. I could bring it with me, until the next crosswalk, until the next turn. And as I made my way aimlessly through the city, every song would push that choking feeling down until eventually I just - swallowed it. And it was gone. Years of weird gentle torture, years of having to literally run out of films that had their songs in the soundtrack or bars that decided it was that kind of night, all gone now.

Why am I telling you about all this - not to draw any parallels with your own lasting discomfort around MCR, but to say: I think our relationships with people complicate our relationships with stuff, because we give periods and people in our lives ownership of the things we're engaging with at the time. And of course everything in life is people first, what else could it be? But, in the absence of the offending relationship, it might be worth considering that you can start over with this thing you love. That you can have a separate relationship lead only by your own heart, because things are just there waiting for you to decide what they are.

I hope you find your way back to MCR without the weight of this, anon! A fun fresh start might be rewatching their doc, Life on The Murder Scene, because it makes you fall in love with them as individuals! Good luck 💗

[yoimix]

haikyuu!! as types of best friends.

➼ ft. hinata, sugawara, bokuto, osamu+atsumu.

➼ playlist. talk too much - coin, higher - banks, romanticism - mrs green apple, me and my friends - james vincent mcmorrow

➼ a/n. these have light bff2l undertones hhn i love that trope, pls forgive me. </3 + there’s some timeskip spoilers for atsumu & osamu’s part.

❀ hinata :-

i wish the childhood best friends trope a very good evening.

no one’s better than hinata at making friends, even if you met after he spiked a ball into your face. you’re childhood best friends too !! so imagine being a child and having to pick up this goofball by the scruff, who has the audacity to ask you to play with him after giving you a scratched up forehead and teary eyes from a ball to the face. but, like, you were the one who said yes so it’s on you :-)

sometimes you bicker but it’s ok bc he would literally go to the ends of the earth for you if you asked. no kidding. he hates sitting still anyway so he’ll just gravitate towards where you are like you’re the sun. also gets you taiyaki in the evenings but climbs in through your window instead of using the front door like a normal person. (he has too much energy </3) if you hear someone yelling your name outside your window and ranting about volleyball games, you know who it is.

ok when he makes you mad with his bullheadedness, you'll be complaining with kageyama (who agrees vehemently) and hinata gets pissy bc you get along a little too well when you're throwing insults about him. (he's not jealous, no, of course not.) but.. how long can you stay mad at this sunshine child anyway?? you'll be pretending you never got mad at all within a few hours and go back to joking around.

he gets distracted if you're watching a match sometimes (bokuto somehow got it into his head that he needs to show off in front of you) so you got banned from watching. he overcomes it later on so you can cheer him on in his jersey too <3

gives you ALL his attention when you talk or even complain about your life. he reacts a lot to whatever you have to say so you have to pretend there aren’t people behind you glaring at hinata for having the same decibel sound level as a jet engine.

you have matching keychains you bought at a local fair !!! (you got a pochacco one for hinata but it’s super worn out by now so he keeps it in his wallet instead.) 

he has not won a single multiplayer video game against you (*cough cough* mario kart *cough*) and you don’t even have to be good at it. if you call him a loser, he’ll lose even harder. gets unnecessarily mad at just dance and you have to calm him down.

... you’ve probably kissed bc the two of you (mostly him) were too eager for a first kiss and you got fed up with his pubescent ramblings and ended up kissing him. and then had an early mid-life crisis bc you guys are definitely just friends. (unless.. unless he doesn’t think that way.. surprise surprise 😳) also he's.. kind of bad for make out practice... it’s like kissing a month old puppy.. sorry :/. if you happen to make a lot of offhand comments and tease him about his kissing skills, he WILL turn tomato red and argue in gibberish. only do that in private bc the rest of the world thinks you’re sickeningly cute together >:(

overall, your best friend is a ball of sunshine (who occasionally pisses you off) and your #1 motivation to get out of bed. it's mostly bc he's somehow there to get you out of bed though you've repeatedly told him to not climb in through your window. at least the sun is smiling upon you every day <3

❀ sugawara :-

being best friends with him is such a secure relation !! 

he’s your soft place to fall but also would provide gentle (not so gentle) reminders for your wellbeing (STUDY!!! WATER!!!! BREAKFAST!!). doesn’t get mad when you say you skipped breakfast but gives you this look of disappointment which is 100x more effective. still gets a granola bar for you though. also he literally carries bandaids for u and he’s been doing that since second grade bc you fell off the swing ONCE. you know, just in case. if you’re an accident-prone hazard to society, you’re in luck. 

BEST HUGS especially if you had a rough day and want to sob into his shoulder. if u damage his $85 hoodie tho, he will make u do his laundry and also buy snacks for him. but like he is so soft (his skin is SUPER soft bc he actually follows a skincare routine now) and cuddly like a teddy bear, it's a small price to pay for salvation.

he will hype you up for anything you do !!!! new outfit? offers to be your personal photographer. scored an A+? will treat u to your fav ice-cream. new job? will tell everyone just how proud he is. 

ALWAYS shares the last bite with you and smiles to himself when you eat it so contented. also!!! hanging out at cafes and taking cute pictures is a must <3 even though you’re not dating, you’ll have photos together that make you look a real couple which ensue teasing from daichi and asahi and admiration/jealousy from noya and tanaka. also he gets weirdly protective of you around the team (i’m looking at the moron quartet) and you have to pull the “koushi you’re not my mom” card. it really strikes a chord with him when you say that out loud.

will egg your ex's house with you if you say the word. somehow gets more pissed than you at your ex (if they're a shitty one). it's kind of scary when he's mad too so.... good luck calming him down. he's also really good at sarcastic trash talk so if you happen to meet your ex on the street... send prayers for their self-esteem.

you don't really fight often but if you happen to disagree, he'll go about it in a pretty mature way and talk it out. if you pick a fight on purpose, he'll catch on to it and either tickle you (excessively) or flick your forehead as punishment for trying to rile him up. it’s impossible to prank him!!!!! it’s like he’s got a sixth sense or something so you might as well give up on anything of the sort. 

you said you want to get a dog (or cat) with him in the near future and he somehow equated that to having children. turned bright red and started saying it’s too soon to be thinking of that while you had daichi stop you from smacking some sense into your overly imaginative best friend. (i mean, you do need to live together if you want to raise a pet sooo)

his lockscreen is a picture of the two of you so a lot of people who try to hit on him take the hint quick. he says it’s unintentional but you know he can be terribly scheming at times. if you say something like “why don’t you date me for real, coward” he will malfunction and not be able to look you in the eye. (“don’t joke around, y/n” “what if i’m not” “it kind of feels illegal to date you” “what do you mean?!💢”)

anyway you are one lucky mf if you have sugawara koushi as your best friend even if there are both ups and downs (mostly ups). having someone care for you so blatantly certainly makes the question of romance arise but you’re content with the most loving best friend ever.

❀ bokuto :-

you guys are the “two best friends in a room, we might kiss” “yes we will” “what” type of best friends PLS

it doesn’t matter what stage of life you met him, it’ll feel like you’ve been best friends since the beginning of time.

it’s just so easy to make friends with this airhead and by god’s gift, you cannot physically get annoyed at this man. sometimes his friends will complain about him being forgetful or blunt but you’re just there like. yeah. that’s bokuto. love him for it. (you seem to have a lot of patience.)

he probably gets into trouble with authority unwittingly, so save your weekends to sweet talk his way out after accidentally implying the coach has a weak mindset. afterwards, you go get ice cream or something and hang out at the dog park to forget it happened. (the amount of second hand embarrassment bokuto has given you though... you need some hard drugs to forget all of it.) 

you probably make a lot of friends through him in high school/college but at the end of the day, it’s just you and him and sometimes akaashi making sure you guys are alive. if you guys are alone together on a friday night, you’ll still be having fun!! very often, it takes shape as karaoke :-) bokuto thinks he’s really great at rapping for some reason (he’s not) so cue you screaming the lyrics in an attempt to ruin your part of the song equally. also he always sets the key wrong??? although you sing the same songs each time?? sometimes he picks a song neither of you have ever heard and the both of you try to guess the melody. he’s terrible at it but at least he’s funny. there’s not a single song he hasn’t had a voice crack in.

if you go clubbing/partying with him, get prepared to be introduced as the friend of “the guy who did four keg stands in a row before proceeding to do a cartwheel unprompted and somehow not throw up”. is on first name basis with the bartenders/hosts and gets you free drinks. also gets hit on often but is oblivious unless they’re being very straightforward. if he’s not into them... you have to pull the s/o card and save his ass. oh also he barks at anyone that gets near your drink.

will always exaggerate when introducing you to new people. “y/n and i met when i saved them from drowning a terrible death.” “it was the children’s pool and you were the one that was screaming.” “and then y/n didn’t really thank me but it’s not like heroes need thanks to do the right thing.” “kou, i will push you into a pool right now, let’s see how well you swim.” (he learned swimming to impress you so joke’s on you.)

he likes to watch you do stuff at the end of the day, so if you see him go o_o at you doing homework, you can just put your earphones on and focus on your work. even if he’s making.. a strangely.. adorable expression. also LOVES to listen to you talk about your day when he’s tired, he says it helps him sleep better (so expect a lot of nighttime calls). moreover, if you say you had a bad dream, he’ll comfort you with his ridiculously confident tone of voice (unless the dream was about something bad happening to him, then he’ll freak out and you’ll have to comfort him instead </3)

ok one thing that’s annoying about him is that he probably leaves food crumbs over your stuff like laptop, bed sheet, etc. you clean it up but bokuto.. is a bit... distracted to notice the mess he’s making. it’s usually pretty difficult to get him to be more aware, but like your glare is enough to make him at least try to be careful from the next time. (either that or he’s become sensitive to your change in mood/emotions bc you know... you’re best friends after all.)

i’m not gonna lie, he probably catches feelings for you at some point. he wants to, like, keep it lowkey bc akaashi told him to take your feelings into consideration too but?? it’s so hard?? you’re literally so pretty?? everything you say is like music to him??? he reacts reflexively to all the firecracker feelings u give him. he probably says he likes you all the time but you dismiss it with “as a friend right :-)”. there’s no climbing up from that one, sorry bokuto.

to summarize, if a moody golden retriever was your human best friend.exe

❀ miya twins :-

they feel like a set. it would be strange to have one of the twins as a bff and not have the other one around whoops 🤷‍♀️ 

either you and osamu bully atsumu in your free time, or you and atsumu annoy osamu for fun (or both) <3. it’s always a good idea to team up with osamu and prank atsumu for fun btw. (put wasabi in his breakfast pancakes and you’ll get a very pissed off but weirdly cute tsumtsum. you can blame it on osamu if you don’t want to face his wrath.) your alternative is to embarrass osamu in front of strangers with atsumu, have fun with that. (second hand embarrassment also works.)

when you were younger, you pretended to not be able to distinguish the twins bc it would visibly rile atsumu up and then you’d go “ok you’re atsumu”... which would further rile him up. osamu got used to your shenanigans though it ticked him off the first time too LOL. call them the wrong name on purpose and they’ll start a riot; be careful when you’re playing with fire pls.

you guys played a lot of knight and prince/princess/royal when you were a kid and atsumu would always try to make osamu the evil dragon holding you captive. in the end, you were somehow the knight, osamu the prince to be rescued and atsumu the big, bad dragon. (it’s kind of funny in hindsight. your parents have photographs of the three of you fighting like no tomorrow.) also speaking of which, your parents are also friends and have bets on which twin you’ll marry (or if you will at all). it’s tearing your parents’ friendship apart.

these two have DEFINITELY fought over whose jersey number you’re going to wear to the games ( “oi, ‘samu, stop brainwashing my best friend into wearing your stupid double digit number” “you know i’m the best friend, ‘tsumu. they clearly like me better over yer ratty ass.” “what did ya say?!?!? if anything, you’re the one that looks like ratatouille.”) you wore kita's jersey number to games.

imagine sunday picnics with the boys !!! by that, i specifically mean osamu and his perfect bento boxes <3 sometimes the two of you will cook together before your outings while a sulking atsumu stands outside bc you didn’t let him. (let him in, you monsters.) he says he can cook too but the last time the twins’ bickering almost burnt the whole kitchen down. the picnics continue well into adulthood and you get to diss your boss to the twins who will always support your rants. (sometimes atsumu will tell you it’s your fault but you can smack him off. we only need supportive besties here 🙄)

if someone hurts u.... they’re going to need divine intervention to be safe... you have two well-built, physically adept best friends ready to beat the shit out of anyone who deliberately breaks ur heart. 

when the twins get into a physical fight...... oh boy. it kinda pisses you off that they’re spewing profanity at each other and you’re the one getting glares. but at the same time, you don’t really want to step into a fight that has nothing to do with you. people should solve their interpersonal issues on their own. they have never fought over you, this isn’t twilight <3 

but the question did come up once on which twin you like better; it’s not something to seriously fight over though. if you chose osamu, atsumu will complain for six days straight and you’ll start to regret ever answering the question. if you say atsumu, osamu won’t feed you his onigiri anymore for a few days which is just as bad. the safest choice is to say neither bc it will both be funny and you won’t suffer too many consequences. if you say you love the both of them for being your best friends all this time and go all mushy, there’s a slight chance they’ll go soft too. god help you from the bone crushing hug you’re about to receive 🙏

you make sure to not miss any of atsumu’s official games !! sometimes he’ll wave at you and make the reporters give you hell bc he’s a little shit. just push osamu to them and run away if it gets that bad. (he gets free advertising for his shop, he should be grateful.)

osamu is super good at cheering you up!!! whether it’s with food or with pleasant talk, you’ll be feeling much better with a full stomach and a calmer state of mind. as for atsumu, he’s really good at you cheering you up by distracting you. he’ll talk about his team or this new serve he learnt and the world will seem a lot brighter bc he seems so happy about it. whichever twin you go to, it’s win-win. 

in return, the twins take up a good chunk of your time. sometimes atsumu will crash at your place after a game though you’ve told him to not lead the damn reporters here. osamu makes you taste test his experimental onigiri... which are not always good..... no seriously, why’d he put honey and tuna in there ?? but still, your life is ridiculously colorful with them around.

anyway, what can i say except what’s better than one best friend?? two best friends !!!

[sobsicles]

Opening Line Tag Game

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

I was tagged by @dont-offend-the-bees - thanks! ill just do my spn fics and not any ive co-written because i didn't start the first chapters for those, though they're very good (Season Z and The Bad Santa Clause, respectively, that are fics written by a group of many amazing authors!)

Dean starts falling in love with him on a slow Sunday morning under slanted sunlight that slips through the gaps in the trees. — six hundred sundays (and many more)

Why did the curtains have to be yellow? — i want to do with you (what spring does to cherry trees)

In a bar on a Tuesday morning, it's a few months out from the final shot at the world ending. But hey, Chuck's long gone, and everything has worked out for the best, and the world keeps right on turning. Funny how that goes, huh? — dumbassery, denial, doing (the three d's to the destination)

There are certain moments in one's life when things go exactly as planned. It's like the stars align and the skies open up to reveal rays of sunlight and, against all odds, everything seems to be in perfect harmony. This is a phenomenon that Dean is genuinely not accustomed to, as it doesn't really happen for him. — finding hope (and finding him)

The first time she meets him, he's nothing more than an almost-missed appointment. — break the skin (to break the barriers)

The first time Dean and Cas kiss, it's not even really a kiss at all. It is, in fact, mouth-to-mouth. — a kiss for every season (literally)

The brass chip slides back and forth in a small path across the leaning desk Bobby has had for years and still hasn't gotten around to fixing. The chip reads: To thine own self be true. Unity. Service. Recovery. — separate ways and sleeping dogs

Getting used to Heaven is something of a marvel. It ain't perfect, and Dean thinks he'd hate it if it was, which is probably why it isn't. There's just enough human-esque nuances to it that keep it feeling like life rather than death, and he's thankful for that because he's got the smallest inkling that he should have gotten to live a little longer than he did. — oh sooner or later it all comes down to faith

So, the first thing that happens is Castiel comes back. It's at a pretty inconvenient time, considering the amount of pain Dean is in and how close he is to being dead. — things happen (they do, and they do, and they do)

It's not the first time Claire has ever gone missing. It is, however, the first time Kaia panics about it. — what's missing is found (our souls can exhale now)

It's different now, no matter how much they're pretending it's not. Mostly out of self-preservation, because sometimes their sanity is hanging by a mere thread and it's so obvious that they simply have no choice but to fake it 'til they make it. They've done a lot of that through the years, practically crafted it into a fine art, but this is the best performance yet. — according to all known laws of life

Time is different here. — what they deserve (it's better this way)

The first realization he remembers having is that the stars are oddly bright from where he lies sprawled on his back. The second, of course, is that there are troubling sounds coming from some vague point to his left. He supposes that's fair—vision and auditory processes are usually the first thing people make sense of when they wake. He knows that much, at least. Not much else, though. — Memories Bring Back Memories (Bring Back You)

Dean would think that a failsafe like this wouldn't exist. It doesn't quite add up in his head when he sits down and thinks about it, but Sam assures him over and over that it's well within the realm of possibility for the Men of Letters--supposed smart people--to come up with something as stupid as this. — home is where the heart is (and you have mine)

The blackbirds start singing a dawn. — profoundly bonded (by law)

So. So, the thing about desperation, and want, and desire, and how it controls, is that it's all bullshit, and Dean wants absolutely no part in it. — staring at ceiling in the dark, same empty feeling in your heart (love comes slow and it goes so fast)

Cas wasn't a music fanatic of any kind, Dean knew this firsthand. Sure, he listened to whatever Dean was listening to, or whatever was playing in the car on long trips. But he never went out of his way to listen to music in his spare time. — listen to the song in my soul (only you can hear)

All things considered, Castiel found solace in the fact that his life couldn't get any worse than this. — Just A Touch

There were a few things that were known about Dean Winchester, undeniable things that hadn't wavered once in his entire life. — a helping hand (let's not be friends)

Dean was merely ten years old when he discovered that bridges didn't close the gap between two worlds. — The Bridges We Built

insane to me that none of these opened up on dialogue. i don't open up with dialogue that often, as it turns out. also, most of these fics are dean pov. only three of these out of twenty are cas pov (1, 12, 18). my personal five favorites out of these: 3, 5, 10, 14, 15.

im supposed to tag people, but like, i want anyone who wants to do it to do it! if you see this and want to do it, definitely do so! tag me if you do; i'd love to see your answers!

[ghostdrew22]

I’ll Always Wait For You || Draco Malfoy

Requested: No Pairing: post-war Draco Malfoy x fem!reader Warnings: ridiculous crap I make up for plot purposes, allusions to sex, idk crime-committing? Summary: Draco and Y/N pursue a life of crime together and what starts as an odd, professional partnership turns into a perfect romance- loosely based on Bonnie & Clyde.

WORDS : 2451

~~~

You walk into the Malfoy Manor’s ballroom with determination and a convincing smile of excitement. You know what a risk you’re taking by coming into their home under false pretenses but it’s the only way you’ll be able to get what you want and leave remotely unnoticed.

You catch a glimpse of the blonde who the ball is being thrown for and flash him a smile before immediately turning away from him and walking toward the bar. You know that he doesn’t know you, and that in retrospect it’s quite idiotic to even think that he’d notice at all when he has no idea who you are, but it’s worth a try for your plan to succeed.

You are a year older than him, and while he’d gone to Hogwarts, you were studying at Drumstrang throughout your school career. You didn’t come across each other often in your youth because your families didn’t run in the same circles- your parents were snobby, upper-middle class purebloods who looked down on muggles and death eaters alike, which meant you’d had a very minimal role in the events leading up to the wizarding war and hadn’t known much of the Malfoy’s growing up other than the snippets of information you came across in newspapers or social events.

But they’d recently caught your eye when it had come out that they possessed the ‘Diadem of Thule’- a powerful wizarding artifact that has limitless cloaking and transfiguration abilities, as well as the power to amplify a wizard’s magic- and kept it safely in a vault deep within their home that’s protected by blood magic. It’s the perfect weapon for what you want to accomplish and you’ve come here tonight to get it.

“I’ve never seen you before.” A voice behind you booms and you turn to face it with a small smile- it’s the blond Malfoy heir himself.

“Probably because I’ve never been.”

“Funny and beautiful?” He raises his eyebrows playfully at you, “Still doesn’t explain how you got in.”

You see that the banter-like tone and expression on his face haven’t disappeared so you decide to continue, “Oh but why reveal all my secrets when you’ve got the entire night to fall in love with me?”

“Fall in love with you?” He chuckles heartily and you bite your lip cheekily.

“I mean, that’s what these are for, right?” You raise your eyebrows in questioning- referring to the purpose of the balls.

He shakes his head with a laugh, “You’ve got me there.” He walks past you and toward the bar where he asks the bartender for something and comes back with two small shot glasses.

“For me?” You ask with a smile and he nods with a smirk.

“Let’s make a toast.”

“To?”

“To never attending another one of these ever again.” He chuckles and you furrow your eyebrows.

“And why’s that?”

“According to you, I won’t need to keep looking for a girl any longer.”

“Then cheers to that!” You exclaim with a laugh and knock your shot glass into his before downing the liquid with a grimace.

~~~

“Are you done? They’re coming.” You whisper back to your partner.

“Don’t rush me.” Draco grits back and you roll your eyes.

“Sorry that I don’t particularly like the idea of being ambushed by muggle police officers and aurors.”

“Then you’ll be glad to know none of that will be happening today.” He replies as he makes his way over to you and kisses your cheek. “I’m sorry for being so aggressive there, you know how I get under pressure.”

Annoying? You almost ask but bite your lip and shake your head instead while giving him a smile, “All good baby.”

“Great. Now let’s get this,” He holds up the bag of money that he just filled up, “Somewhere safe.”

“Ready when you are.” You smirk and he chuckles while pulling out the diadem and handing it to you. He takes your hand and interlocks your fingers as he starts to countdown.  “3.”

“2.” You continue.

“1.” He finishes as the sound of sirens outside of the bank erupts into the atmosphere. You grin at him and quickly whisper the counter-curse that you’d cast on the bank’s patrons to lull them asleep while you and Draco got busy- slowly they all start to regain consciousness in confusion as they each notice the two, masked figures standing before them.

You’re about to apparate the two of you out, when suddenly none other than Harry fucking Potter and his crew of fellow aurors barge into the bank’s foyer with their wands out. Before you can whisper out the words to save yourselves, Harry casts a hex that lands on Draco and renders him incapable of apparating out.

“Get out. Now.” Draco says immediately, not even bothering to face you and instead unhooking your fingers to hand you the bag.

A wave of panic encompasses you for a moment, almost as if you’ve forgotten the plan that the two of you have in place for situations like this, but it’s gone as quick as it came and you grab the bag of money out of Draco’s hands before apparating yourself out.

“Fuck!” You exclaim once you’re back in the little cottage that the two of you have in the countryside.

After that night at the Manor, eight months ago, you and Draco grew quite close. That’s if your idea of close is accidentally falling in love with your literal partner in crime. Your plan to sleep with him, swipe a dollop of his blood somehow and sneak down into the family vault the next morning to get the Diadem had failed dismally. He woke up right as you were getting dressed and told you that he knew who you were and what you were upto; Y/N L/N, the notorious bank robber that had been terrorizing London only nights before. And in some weird twist of fate, he told you that he wanted to join you.

His interest in you had only peaked when the newspapers started to gossip about a witch/wizard who was rampaging London stealing absurd amounts of cash from Muggle Banks, he couldn’t deny the flare of envy that had shot up within him at the prospect of not being the one with the genius idea. So he did what he did best; he plotted a scheme to lure you into his home so that he could propose a partnership, knowing that someone of your caliber wouldn’t be able to resist an artifact that made your magic traceless, knowing that you’d salivate at the prospect of no longer needing to live life on the run.

You refused at first, claiming that you were a solo act and he didn’t have anything to offer besides a family heirloom that you could bloody well do without considering how far you’d made it without the diadem. But he somehow convinced you, danced around your thoughts with his words and backed you up against a metaphorical wall that left you with no choice but to accept. You’d hated working with him for the first two months, the initial four robberies being horrible and close calls, but then slowly the two of you found a rhythm, a system to work together, and soon enough partners became friends and friends bubbled into lovers. Eventually he wore you down enough for you to want to run off to the countryside with him.

“Cocky bastard.” You mumble out loud with a sigh, “I should let him stay there for his stupidity.”

You laugh at the thought of Draco Malfoy being left in Harry Potter’s custody and eventually transferred into Azkaban- facing the same fate that his parents did but for a crime of much smaller cost. He would hate it. And he’d probably find a way out just to kill you for abandoning him. Yeah, leaving him there is not an option.

~~~

“Harry Potter chasing after a wizard who robs banks? You’re truly running after small dice now- talk about a downgrade from defeating the Dark Lord.”

“So I take it you’re not going to tell me who you’re working with?” Harry asks from across the interrogation table- glaring daggers into the Malfoy’s blue eyes.

“How is this confusing for you? I said, no.”

“Is it Y/N L/N? We haven’t been able to trace the magic left at the scenes back to it’s owner for a few months now, we thought that she’d gone dark and you were a copycat.” Draco scoffs at the accusation- despite the fact that he never would’ve been able to concoct the idea on his own anyway- “But maybe she’s just working with you.”

“Didn’t mummy ever tell you that no means no?” Draco furrows his eyebrows in mock sympathy, “Pestering me about the issue in order to get a yes? Sounds a bit like coercion.”

“Don’t act like I’m trying to get in your pants.” Harry rolls his eyes- having forgotten how mockingly flirtatious Draco gets when cornered.

“I never even implied that.” Draco shrugs. “But if this is how you do it then I’m concerned.”

“I’m bloody married, I don’t need to get in people’s pants.”

“Married huh? How’d you manage that?” Draco asks with a chuckle, “Show her the ring everyday until she finally decided to just marry you?”

“I didn’t coerce Ginny into marrying me.”

“That’s what he said.” Draco sing-songs in a mocking tune before licking his lips and shutting them for a moment. He looks back up suddenly with a thought, “Maybe I should give Ginny a ring and ask her.” Draco smirks mischievously and Harry grimaces at the sight.

“Fuck you, Malfoy.”

“Oh, I bet you wish you could.” Draco smirks and Harry feels himself slightly flush but clears his throat.

“This is way off base.”

“Indeed. Just wanted to catch up before we part ways.”

“Part ways?” Harry asks with a laugh, “We’re not parting ways for another few months, I’m the working officer on this case so you ought to get used to me.”

“Mhmm.”

“You’re awfully calm for someone that’s about to join his parents in Azkaban.”

Draco flinches, ever so slightly, at the mention of his parents and Azkaban, but recovers quickly and turns his head to the wall on his left- focusing very intently on it.

“Why are you looking at that wall?”

“No reason.”

“No reason?” Harry furrows his eyebrows before realization dawns on him, “Malfoy are you waiting for somethi-“

Before Harry can finish his sentence the wall has been knocked down and you’ve grabbed Draco to uncuff him from the table. “Thanks for watching him.” You say with a smile as you clasp your hand with Draco’s and apparate the two of you to the car that you’d left waiting a few streets away.

“What took you so bloody long?” He mumbles as he climbs into the car.

“I was giving you time to flirt with your old crush - you know, fulfill your schoolboy fantasies.” You reply with a smirk and he groans.

“I told you one thing!”

“I’m sorry love, I had to make at least one joke!” You exclaim back while laughing and he rolls his eyes but smiles at the sight of you.

“I missed you.”

You roll your eyes at his sentiment but smile as well, “It wasn’t even that long.”

“Any moment I’m away from you feels like forever.” He grins.

“Oh, how did you survive!” You ask mockingly and laugh- reaching over to give him a kiss on the lips finally. He melts against the feel of your lips against his own- the only reminder he has that you’re his, and he’s happy, and the two of you will always be together. You’re his only reprieve from the constant agony of being alive, from the anger at his parents that sits and wells up in his heart.

A life of crime was not what Draco imagined himself pursuing, not in the slightest, but he’d do anything to spend his life with you. The money, the cars, the houses, the fame- none of it fills him up the way that you do, just by living and breathing on planet earth. “Easy. I waited for you.”

“What?” You ask- having forgotten what you two were talking about before the kiss.

“I survived because I knew you were coming. I waited for you.”

“And what if I didn’t?” You raise your eyebrows- even though you know that you wouldn’t even dream of living without him.

“I still would’ve waited.” He smiles and kisses you again, “I’ll always wait for you.”

“I told you that you’d fall in love with me.” You say with a smirk as you turn to start the car and drive off to your next destination.

<~>

Draco would genuinely start a life of crime to spite his reputation and you can’t convince me otherwise. I sort of feel like I half-assed this one just so I could get it done but at the same time I do really like it.

Anyway, love you all

jean <3

[kippykasey]

Grace - Chapter 5: Hydra

Pairing: Howard Stark x F!Reader , Bucky x Reader [Eventually]

Word Count: 3522

Series Summary: A young nurse is recruited by Dr. Abraham Erskine to join the SSR to assist on Project Rebirth. Following her work with the SSR she is drafted into the US Army Nurse Corps in the war against the Nazis...and HYDRA.

Chapter Warnings: violence, torture, bad things because Hydra

Author's Note: Surprise?! I wasn't even expecting to get this done but I literally just finished and thought, eh why not. So here it is! Also I hate hurting my characters so this was a bit eh to write but I hope all is well!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the gifs they are either found on google or under the gif tag provided by tumblr. Any language other than English was translated using Google Translator, and translations will be posted in bolden italics after. I am not a nurse or in the medical field although I may do some research medical treatment written may not be correct.

Grace Masterlist | Snowdrop Masterlist | Masterlist

Pain. A throbbing, harsh pain echoed through my head from the temple. The throbbing beat opposite that of my heart. The second thing I noticed was how cold and damp it was. After battling with my body to force open my eyes I squint through the dimly lit room. A deep voice spoke in another language… German it was German but my head hurt too much for me to understand it. Seconds passed before I realized that I was sitting on the ground in a cell. The door opened and two men walked in flanked by four additional soldiers than the one that had been watching me.

“Ah Fräulein (L/n) glad you have finally woken up.” Miss.

“Who are you?” I cursed how weak my voice sounded at that moment. Though the man didn’t seem to find me a threat of escape as he spoke. “Johann Schmidt. You see we have a common acquaintance… or, well, had.” The grin he wore made my stomach drop and he didn’t need to verbally admit it for me to realize this is the man behind Abraham’s death.

I raised my head in defiance and although it made the pounding in my head worsen I pushed myself from the ground and stood within the cell. “You’re after the serum.”

“Ah, clever girl. You were Abraham’s assistant when he made the serum.” The second, much shorter man spoke. “Fault in your plans. I don’t know how to make the serum.” Schmidt smiled at me and it took all my self control not to shiver from his intense look. “I was hoping you would say that,” His eyes turned off me to the soldiers. “Bring sie zum Stuhl. Probiere es an ihr aus. Vielleicht wird ein kleiner Elektroschock Ihr Gedächtnis auffrischen.” Take her to the chair. Try it out on her. Perhaps a bit of electroshock will refresh your memory. As Schmidt talked his head also turned towards the shorter man.

I could feel the blood drain from my face as I moved back against the wall. Three soldiers stepped towards the cell. One man opened the cell door before the other two stepped inside to detain me. I managed to elbow one in the face in my struggle but it was useless. The two soldiers dragged me from the cell, out of the room into a brighter lit hall. We were in some kind of warehouse. My eyes zeroed in on a chair that looked right out of a nightmare. Stronger hands forced me into the hard chair and held me down while I was struggling against someone’s attempts to strap me in. My struggling did nothing but get me a slap to the face. The strength of the slap disoriented me long enough for them to strap me in.

The shorter man who followed us now stood next to my head. I could see the reflection of myself in his glasses. “This is only going to hurt a lot, try to hold still.” He instructs lowering two plates down around my face. It was only a few short moments before the electricity forced its way into my head. I had no control over my body as it thrashed in the confines of the chair. An agonizing scream of pain carrying throughout the building went ignored.

That wasn’t my first time in the chair but it was the only time I had passed out in the chair. Spent 30 minutes in the chair 3 times a day, sometimes longer. After a week I had to start muttering things to myself in my cell so I didn’t forget who I was. The Nazi soldiers gave me the bare minimum to survive as far as water and nutrients goes. I cracked halfway through October. I gave the short scientist, Armin Zola, the list of what I would need before I was taken back to my cell after yet another time in the cell. I was given parchment and a pencil to write things down with but it kept coming in flashes.

Nights were the worst. Mouth dry from lack of water, eyes trained on an iron grate in the ceiling. I realized two weeks into my daily chair visits that I had forgotten my brother’s name. When I noticed it caused me to cry to sleep that night. So whenever I could I would mutter to myself facts I could remember starting with my name, rank, and where I was from. The list of facts got shorter every day. Somedays I remembered more than others. There were times all I could bring myself to do was hum Amazing Grace to myself to deal with the pain.

The first time I was in the lab I tried to escape. I was left with just one guard and I thought I could take him. I smashed a beaker using a shard like a knife. I ended up knocked unconscious, my hand bleeding from the self inflicted cuts caused by the makeshift weapon. From then on I was chained to the lab table and three soldiers kept watch. I wasn’t given anything to test the serum on. So I never tested unless I thought it would work because I used myself as a test subject.

I was unconscious for two days once from a failed serum. Others cause excruciating pain. Days came and went and I lost count of days but I knew it was still October. Yet a month was close to passing as November began to be discussed amongst soldiers around me. Pressure was placed on me to recreate the serum. Each day if I didn’t recreate the serum I was sent to the chair for the torturous electroshock. That is how I figured out I had been successful in a recreation. The serum, when tested, did nothing but make me drop to the lab floor in pain. I wasn’t even given time to recollect myself before being dragged off to the chair. I lasted longer in the chair than usual. I heard the instruction to increase the power. I don’t remember what happened after that.

It took me nearly half a day to recover, then as soon as I had I was back working in the lab. Suddenly I was pulled away from my work and escorted quickly back to my cell. “Neue Soldaten wurden gefangen genommen.” New soldiers have been captured. I pressed myself up against the bars for a chance, a glimpse at the soldiers being brought in.

It was silent as the Nazi Hydra soldiers dealt with the new poisoners. Suddenly two soldiers appeared with smiles on their faces. “Komm Mädchen. Zola und Schmidt wollen dich sehen.” Come girl. Zola and Schmidt want to see you. The soldiers yanked me up and practically dragged me to the room where the chair was. My body trembled involuntarily at the sight of the chair. It wasn’t me going in the chair, given someone was strapped in but given the uniform he was American. “Ah, here iz our lovely nurse. You’ve been asking for a test subject. Here you go.” Schmidt waved at the man strapped into the chair. The man lifted his head just barely and my heart went out to him. As soon as the hands left my arms I moved to the soldier in the chair. “What’s your name, soldier?”

“S’rg’nt Jam’s Barn’s,” His voice wasn’t clear but it was clear enough for me to understand what he said. The nurse turned to Zola and Schmidt. “I wasn’t done recreating the serum when you had me pulled from the lab. I will need time to work and he needs time to rest or the serum will kill him.” I tried to give him whatever comfort I could in those brief moments before we were pulled apart. His head rose just slightly and I caught a glimpse of stormy blue eyes as he was dragged out of the room.

I never got to return to my cell that night. As my eyes zoned in on the blue chemical mixture in front of me I felt a haze cloud my mind, it wasn’t abnormal to experience but I also felt like I was losing myself when it happened. Following my own written instructions I was able to continue my work. The only other thing I forced my mind to remember were two things.

I am First Lieutenant (Y/n) (L/n) of the US Army Nurse Corps. Soldier boy is Sergeant James Barnes.

The words became a mantra in the blank canvas my mind was currently in as I blindly worked by instructions of my very own that I don’t even remember writing. My body moved on auto pilot as I was taken to a crude looking examination room. In the center was soldier boy Sergeant James Barnes strapped to the table. As my mind raced to catch up with me, flashes of memories clouded my mind from when Steve Rogers got the serum, the explosion that followed, Dr. Erskine being shot. My body tensed at a passing memory of being in the chair passed through being replaced by the pain I felt giving myself the serum.

A hand pressed firmly in between my shoulder blades pushing me forward. I stumbled to the table catching myself with a hand on his arm. Wasn’t he wearing an army jacket before? My eyes landed on the serum filled syringe in my hands reminding me of what I was about to do. “First lieutenant (Y/n) (F/n) of the US Army Nurse Corps.. You are Sergeant James Barnes.. I’m sorry for what I am about to do. You’ll be okay. I’ve used it on myself. It will hurt.” My voice sounded so… robotic and monotone as I spoke to him. My hands pushing up his sleeve.

My hands worked from memory and out of second nature my mouth moved and the hymn fell from my lips. The melody of the song was the only comfort I could offer as I injected the poor man with the serum that would change his life forever. His eyes looked up at mine until the pain of the serum changing his body caused them to shut tightly. The leather restraints holding him in began to rip as he pulled against them. Discarding the empty syringe I tried to soothe him more but the second my hand touched his head I was shot with a sedative.

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】

Steve Rogers has dressed up performing on stage like a dancing monkey to sell war bonds since he was given the serum. His first time on foreign grounds and he was performing for soldiers he should have been fighting alongside of. All to be booed off the stage by disgruntled men who just wanted to see a pretty dame.

Steve finally looked away from the rain but not quite at Peggy, “At least he’s got me doing this. Phillips would have had me stuck in a lab.” Blue eyes finally met the face of Agent Carter. “And these are your only two options? A lab rat or a dancing monkey? You were meant for more than this, you know.” Her wording might have been a bit rude but the point got across. There was a moment of silence between the two but Steve had this look to him. “What?” Peggy inquired.

The man was drawing in the rain when a familiar face popped up. “Hello, Steve.” Peggy Carter approached him from behind, making him turn from his drawing to greet her, “Hi.” She mimed his ‘hi’ back before laying her jacket down to sit on while Steve asked, “What are you doing here?” Peggy looked at Rogers and let out a small sigh, “Officially, I’m not here at all. That was quite a performance.”

Rogers looked away disappointed that she had caught the horrible show that happened earlier. “Yeah. I uh, I had to improvise a little bit. The crowds I’m used to are usually more, uh, twelve.” Steve explained looking out at the drenched ground and falling rain. “I understand you’re ‘America’s New Hope’.” Peggy states watching him. “Bond sales take a 10% bump in every state I visit.” Steve comments like a robot. “Is that Senator Brandt I hear?”

“You know for the longest time, I dreamed about coming overseas and being on the front lines, serving my country. I finally got everything I wanted and I’m wearing tights.” Steve kept looking down at his journal then squinting out through the rain. A horn alarmed behind them as a medical vehicle slid to a stop in the mud. Medics ran from the infirmary tent to help unloaded soldiers on gurneys. “They look like they’ve been through hell.” Peggy turned back towards Rogers. “These men more than most.” Steve looked up at Peggy knowing she had more details. “Schmidt sent out a force to Azzano. Two hundred men were there to back up an already injured fleet, they went up against him and less than 75 returned. Your audience contained what was left of the 107th and 34th.” Steve slowly turned his head feeling bad for the men who were lost but his attention snapped to Peggy at the mention of the divisions involved as she finished, “The rest were killed or captured.”

“The 107th?” The confirmation had him darting out into the rain, Peggy following holding her jacket over her head for coverage from the rain. The two ran all the way to the tent Colonel Phillips was sitting in signing condolence letters. “Colonel Phillips.” Steve called for the man’s attention as he approached. “Well, if it isn’t the Star-Spangled Man With A Plan. What is your plan today?” The colonel responded looking up at the pair now standing in front of him. “I need the casualty list from Azzano.” The tone he used was definitely fitting for the role he plays on stage. Phillips however did not appreciate it. “You don’t get to give me orders, son.”

“I just need one name, Sergeant James Barnes from the 107th.” Rogers responded un phased. Phillips pointed his pen at Peggy, “You and I are gonna have a conversation later that you won’t enjoy.” Steve was insistent though and again requested the information he wanted, “Please tell me if he’s alive, sir. B-A-R..” “I can spell.” Phillips cut him off before muttering, “First Stark and now this.” He stood from the table and paged through the letters he just finished signing. “I have signed more of these condolence letters today that I would care to count. But the name does sound familiar. I’m sorry. To the both of you.” Phillips looks from Rogers to Peggy and the woman knew he was referring to her friend from the 34th.”

“What about the others? Are you planning a rescue mission?” Rogers was something else, optimistic maybe. “Yeah, it’s called winning the war.” The look of disbelief that Steve sent the colonel as he spoke might have been the first red flag for Peggy Carter. “But if you know where they are, why not at least..” Phillips once again cut the man off, “They’re 30 miles behind the lines through some of the most heavily fortified territory in Europe.” Phillips was eyeing the spot on the map as he talked about it, even pointing the place out directly. “We’d lose more men than we’d save. But I don’t expect you to understand that because you’re a chorus girl.”

The colonels' dig at Roger’s lack of status didn’t seem to phase the man but it did fuel the plan he was formulating in his head while staring at the map, memorizing it. “I think I understand just fine.”

“Well, then understand it somewhere else. If I read the posters correctly, you got someplace to be in 30 minutes.” The colonel walked past him giving Rogers a very clear view of the map marking out exactly where he needed to go, and where he was. “Yes, sir. I do.” Perhaps the time staring at the map was the second red flag that Peggy noticed. As her eyes flickered between him and the map as he left the tent it all clicked into place and she hurried after the taller man.

“What do you plan to do, walk to Austria?” Peg asked as she entered the tent used as the changing room. “If that’s what it takes.” Steve answered not looking up from where he was struggling with boots. “You heard the Colonel. Your friend, and mine, are most likely dead.”

“You don’t know that.” Steve disagreed as he continued to get ready. “Even so, he’s devising a strategy. If he detects..” Steve cut her off as he put on a brown leather jacket, “By the time he’s done that, it could be too late.” He snatched up his bag and shield and headed for the exit. “Steve!” Peggy called following him to the vehicle he tossed his things into. The rain had stopped leaving the sun to rapidly evaporate the water leaving puffs of smoke in the air. Steve looked at the brunette in front of him. “You told me you thought I was meant for more than this. Did you mean that?”

“Every word.”

“Then you got to let me go.” Steve turned to get into the jeep and started the engine before Peggy was at the side. “I can do more than that.” She told him.

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】

Peggy hadn’t lied. She got them a method of transport much faster than the jeep. Howard Stark sat in the pilot seat flying a plane with the slight chance his fiancée may still be alive. Stark was devastated when he first found out that the 34th was attacked and that only doubled when the attack at Azzano took out the 107th as well.

“The Hydra camp is in Krausberg, tucked between these two mountain ranges.” Peggy infomed Rogers as she pointed to the map she was holding. “It’s a factory of some kind.” She gave him as much information as she could. “We should be able to drop you right on the doorstep.” Howard called over his shoulder.

“Just get me as close as you can.” Steve called back up to the pilot. He looked back over at the woman in front of him. “You know.. You two are gonna be in a lot of trouble when you land.” He was worried about her getting into trouble for him but she looked at him just as worried. “And you won’t?” Steve dismissed her worries, turning his head. “Where I’m going, if anyone yells at me, I can just shoot them.” There was a small click of a loaded gun.

“They will undoubtedly shoot back.” Peggy surmised. Steve turned to the shield he had been using on stage giving it a knock, “Well let's hope it’s good for something.” Steve turned back to her just as Howard called back, “Agent Carter? If we’re not in too much of a hurry, I thought we could stop off in Lucerne for a late-night fondue.” Howard was teasing the agent, the smile on his face hidden from those being him. Peggy shifted in her seat choosing to ignore him and keep conversation going with Rogers. “Stark is the best civilian pilot I’ve ever seen. He’s mad enough to brave this airspace. We’re lucky to have him.”

Steve however was still not fully over the comment Stark made. “So, are you two… do you…” There was an awkward pause as Steve thought of the proper way to ask if they were seeing each other by reusing Stark’s words, “..Fondue?” Stark tried not to laugh from the pilot’s seat as Peggy simply shook her head and handed him a device. “This is your transponder. Activate it when you’re ready and the signal will lead us straight to you.” Steve took a moment to look at the device now in his hand before calling up to Howard, “Are you sure this thing works?”

“It’s been tested more than you, pal.” Howard defended seconds before gunfire hit the side of the plane. The plane shook as bullets pelted the sides, shaking the aircraft from the force. Steve stood grabbing his shield and heading towards the door. That he opened. “Get back here! We’re taking you all the way in!” Peggy ordered yelling over the wind rushing into the plane. “As soon as I’m clear, you turn this thing around and get the hell out of here!” Steve ordered back over the noise of the wind, gunfire, and the pinging of bullets on the plane.

“You can’t give me orders!” Peggy disagreed.

“The hell I can’t! I’m a Captain!” Steve looked over at her, giving her a smile that made her weak in the knees. He grabbed the goggles from his helmet, lowered them over his eyes and launched himself out of the plane. Peggy watched him fall towards the ground before the red fabric of his parachute was visible in the night sky from the flying bullets. Howard turned back as instructed by the Captain. Now all they could do was wait.

[rouiyan]

𝘗𝘜𝘓𝘓 𝘔𝘌 𝘜𝘕𝘋𝘌𝘙 [ 𝘯.𝘫𝘮 ]

⧏ jaemin’s installment of the undone at twenty-one collective ⧐

synopsis: one estranged at the hands of love and the other tethered to his reputation. it's no wonder they find solace within each other.

✧ bartender!na jaemin x (fem.) reader (ft. ex!mark) ✧ college au, almost fwb au

✧ genres : fluff, angst, slight comedy ✧ word count : 15.5k ✧ disclaimers : swearing, alcohol consumption, insecurities, anxiety attacks, mentions of sex (no explicit smut, as per usual)

✧ author’s note — i'm so sorry to do this to you guys on a weekly, i swear, dropping double digit k fics is not normal and has definitely fucked with my sleep schedule ++ i hit 127 followers on thursday! for a total of four minutes but it was cool while it lasted! thank you! 

maybe it all started when na jaemin got the job at the bar. it certainly didn't suit him, not the sweet boy he was, keyword on 'was.' he'd taken a course on bartending over the summer between senior year high school and his first year of college, just for fun until he realized he could actually use his license to get a job that paid slightly above minimum wage. maybe, it all started when he'd seen a classmate at the bar, a pretty girl at that, who'd smiled in a way that could only be classified as flirtatiously. maybe that's what had jaemin winking back, for the first time in his life. maybe that's what got him laid later that night. and maybe that's how he started to identify as more of a fuckboy than a heartthrob. it was a far out though new feeling, he thought. high school jaemin could never, he thought. 

but maybe it all started to come to an end when you walked into the bar for the fourth time that week, eyes rimmed red and breath already tinged with alcohol. you ordered a draft beer from him, something light to keep you slightly buzzed but not completely knocked out. the hands of the clock were nearing two in the morning and the bar, especially the area of the counter he was tending, was beginning to empty out. jaemin struck conversation once you were the only one left and seven minutes before his shift ended. 

he realizes, again, that you have zero recollection of him though he'd also struck conversation for the three nights before.

"how was your day, miss?"

you look up, head propped on your right hand, hand propped up with your elbow. "me?" slightly wary, you sit upright in front of the guy behind the counter. his smile never falters when he nods. you blink twice before remembering to respond, "i- no, i mean, today was okay," you slouch back into yourself, "a little less than okay, actually." the bartender's eyes widen in consideration, remembering that you had stopped at just 'okay' for the past days he'd asked you. he takes from this to offer politely, "do you mind if i ask what happened?"

your eyes are focused on the sink behind him, distractedly. almost forgetting to reply, you gather your thoughts by clearing your throat and pondering for a few moments before beginning to speak, hesitantly, "well it's like when you just know something bad's gonna happen, and you know for awhile. then it does happen and you don't get to be surprised or shocked because you already knew. so all you're left to feel is just," you heave a sigh, "sadness, or maybe even regret."

the metal nametag pinned to his chest glints in the lights above as he moves forward to place his elbows on the counter, leaning casually. you notice it to spell out 'jaemin' and a part of your subconsciousness is trying to make you remember that you know this guy. you know him from school, from rumors, from your gossiping friends, you know him from the bar even. but all you're able to process is that he is one hell of a good-looking specimen.

jaemin's eyes glint in the light as well when he poorly guesses, "did bad on a test? late homework assignment?" laughing and completely missing the fact that this 'stranger' had correctly assumed you to be a college student, you shake your head, "if it were either of those, i'd be awfully dramatic for coming to a bar and drinking my days away instead of studying." he's laughing as well and you can't help but think that his smile, straight pearly whites and all, is probably the most welcoming sight your eyes have laid upon the whole day. picking the conversation back up, you decide that it probably wouldn't do much harm to indulge jaemin in the latest and breaking news of your life. "actually, i was dumped today."

he sucks in a long breath in understanding, licking his lips, "so, a bad breakup. those aren't too fun." agreeing, you shake your head. the atmosphere is good-natured when you quip, "would it be worse to say that it was the eighth time too?" jaemin's brows shoot up in surprise and he pushes himself off his elbows, shifting his weight onto his hands. "eighth? as in eighth breakup or eighth time you've been dumped?" a chuckle escapes your complexion, giving way to how vulnerable you were feeling, vulnerable to a laughable extent. your eyes are cast downward when you respond, "the second."

jaemin pries in a way that doesn't seem like prying, you wonder how he does so. "care to share?" it's possible his range of bartender-ly duties extends to the likes of a therapist, "i mean, i don't see why not." you quirk your lips, the only thought coursing through your mind consisting of how the bridge of his nose was so carefully structured and how oversharing with this man didn't seem so much of a bad idea. you were, after all, far too caught up in your drunken stupor to think anything otherwise.

"let's see, i was ghosted by my first boyfriend in ninth grade, cheated on by my second, figured out that my third was only dating me for a bet, fourth just straight up stopped liking me, fifth lied to me about his age, objectified by my sixth, thought i was dating my seventh but turns out he forgot he asked me out, and my eighth...well, that one's a bit different."

he's back on his elbows, in intriguement and also due to the new song that began to play from the speakers above, louder than the last, "how so?" you're afraid the feelings are going to pour back within your forefront thoughts so you keep your answer short, "we dated for two years."

"and?"

you're quiet for a few moments. those moments are taken to mull over the exact reasonings behind your shitty day, almost as if you had forgotten. blinking slowly, the dryness of your contact lenses becoming apparent, you respond hesitantly, "and, he said he didn't see a future with me. that i could only ever be his first love."

jaemin seems to mull over this as well, "and did you see a future with him?"

you haven't looked up at him in a while, instead, focusing your sights on the way you've let your acrylics grow out far too long, how the skin around your nails is peeling, and how your palms are also creased with dry lines. using the same hand to lift the bottle from its handle, you toss the rest of its contents down your throat, swallowing in one motion. setting it back down, tongue grazing over your lips to catch the spilt extras, you look jaemin in the eye. 

"yeah," you move to collect your things, "i guess i did." you pay. you take your leave.

he sees you again the following day, for the fifth time in that single week and he's led to wonder if there is a reason you seem frequent this one bar. the atmosphere possibly, the customer service maybe, or even him, though he's doubtful.

this time you're accompanied by two friends, one he knows to be jeno's best friend, eunmi, and the other, the crush of that same friend, jaein. jaemin's known eunmi for as long as jeno has, since the beginning of high school. jaemin also knows that eunmi, as of the late, doesn't like himself all that much. he figures it has something to do with the bit of a reputation his name now carries. 

jaemin thinks the girls are by your side for emotional support. perhaps, today proved even shittier than yesterday, but he's thwarted a few moments after when the three of you seem to be lost in the depths of interesting conversation, light-hearted laughter, and glasses that can't seem to fill themselves as fast as they empty into your stomachs, except for jaein, that is, but especially for you. 

it's 12:48 in the morning when he's thrown off guard for the first time that night, in the midst of whipping up a whiskey for the grumpy man down the counter, eunmi falls asleep, literal in the sense that she really does fall and would've completely sagged into the ground if the table had not been in gravity's way. jaemin watches as jaein lifts the poor girl's head off the surface, revealing an angry red splotch, and transfers eunmi's weight onto her lap. 

he's thrown off guard for a second time at 1:22, watching you stand straight from your seat, swaying a tad bit, but brows creased in strong will and determination. you're walking towards him, steps that would be quick if only you were even mildly aware of sidestepping the paths of others. you pant as you reach the table, head feeling a little too hot and too heavy to aid in clear thinking. squinting at him, though you were but a few feet away, "your name. what's your name again?" 

jaemin repeats the actions you'd done yesterday, slightly wary in expression and checking his posture, "me?" you don't reply but continue to scrutinize the way he looks. he supposes that's just as much of an answer, "it's jaemin, i believe we talked yesterday." your mouth parts in recognition and moves as if to form a word or two in response. jaemin watches as it opens and closes again and, even after much deliberation, the only thing you can find to say is, "well, you're fucking hot."

"oh-"

"shit, didn't mean to say that aloud." your lips smack in embarrassment, shifting your weight to your left foot. your mind is yelling at you to sober up, to save your face. 

a smile adorns the man's features as he bemusedly remarks, "i'm sure you didn't." there's a silence that hangs between the two of you, and you're on the cusp of excusing yourself from further embarrassment when jaemin blurts out, "if it helps, i think you're fucking hot too." it might just be the alcohol in your system that's making the heat rise in your countenance but you swear you blush, and you never blush!

fingering the lobe of your right ear, you fumble with your thoughts until settling on a quiet, "thanks." jaemin busies himself with swiping a rag across the counter, unaware of the awkwardness on your end. looking up, he offers, "would you like a drink?" nodding, you take a seat at the bar in front of him, eyes slipping back to the girls for a split second, only to see jaein on her phone and eunmi still asleep. returning your sights, you're met with a slight humor traced in jaemin's expression, "what?"

he lets out the smallest of chuckles, mouth moving but lacking words, sentences starting but never ending, until he finally makes himself clear. "you- would you mind ordering a drink then?" your hand comes up, as if you had a point to make, but returns into your lap as you realize you'd never elaborated. "oh," your hand resurfaces to massage your temples, "same as yesterday then."

jaemin doubts you even remembered what you'd gotten yesterday but goes on to fill a bottle of beer from the kegs behind him. you're staring at his back in wonderment at how lackluster in...social interactions you'd become, how lackluster in flirting you were. you guess two years of being cuffed would render anyone a little rusty. hell, it wasn't as if you were keen on flirting with every hot guy you saw but jaemin, not that you remember much, gave off the right feeling after a wrong relationship. that was surely a green light, right?

"here," he slides it across the counter with a wink, entirely out of habit. you wince at that, "ew no, don't do that around me, i'm not one of your fuckbuddies." retying his black waist apron, he replies with a, "right, you're not." he pulls a neat bow in place and sets his hands back on the counter, there's a lilt to his voice when he speaks, "but, if you ever feel like you need-"

you wave him off, "i'm good, thanks for the offer though." 

he watches you chug the draft beer. nodding, he replies under his breath, more to himself than anything, "i see." you finish the bottle in no time but it looks as if you were to vomit, or pass out, or maybe even black out, or all three at once. jaemin really does not mean to spur your flirtatious gene as much as his own but seeing you like this he offers, "it's on the house." you're definitely surprised for a good half of a second but in the other half, you drunkenly lean across the table, so far so that jaemin's nose is but a few inches away from yours. 

something in jaemin stirs. the stench of your breath, your hardened eyes, the delicate lines of your lips. jaemin finds that it isn't lust that rumbles beneath his carefully built expression. and though it might as well be some form of pity, he doesn't hesitate to take your phone from you when you ask, "can i have your number?" he doesn't mind the smile that graces your face as you take your phone back, as you turn around to head back with your friends, not even in the right mind to say a goodbye, and even as you exclaim, rather loudly, to jaein, "i got his number," a smile of his own is quick to light up his face. but na jaemin hides his silly smile and even himself a little later when jeno appears to drive the three of you home. he even goes so far as to hide the smile and the meanings behind the smile from himself, afraid that he'd uncover something that was very un-bartender-ly of him to feel for a customer. at least, that's what happens before he ends his shift. 

when you first wake up, it's at the sound of the door of your room clicking shut. jaein, you suppose, you'll thank her later. the ceiling is oddly comforting after a week that just didn’t start well, go well, end well. love isn’t your forte, loving yourself, loving others, anything to do with love. you supposed that getting dumped the seventh time would have made that quite obvious but you just had to throw yourself out there again, just to make sure. you fall once again to  sleep that night with nothing on your mind other than the thought that you might as well be single for the rest of your life. 

but you wake up in the love, not of a lover per se, but of a best friend. the post-it note on your bedside reads, text me when you wake up!, and the smile that lifts your face is instantaneous. jaein has never failed to care for you, despite being almost a year younger, and in that way and many others, you feel indebted to her. 

you fail to recall any of the events of the night prior, though if anything horrendous happened you knew jaein would be more delighted to share. you stumble across your phone somewhere in the sheets after searching aimlessly and you decide that making a call would perhaps be more thoughtful than a measly text. but as you scroll through the names in your phone, upset that you didn't have jaein's contact pinned in your favorites, you stop, well, your heart stops because right below her contact is listed na jaemin.

you are two thoughts away from crossing over to tap the shoulder of the girl a little ways in front of you, her silhouette a great deal similar to jaein's, when a hand is placed on your own shoulder. you don't have a chance to turn and see who it is because that hand has traveled a little ways across your front, latching from one shoulder to another and bringing your body flush with his. you tilt your head to get a glance, only to find jaemin smiling down at you, the strobe lights glaring a brief red across his features. "been avoiding me?"

yeah no shit you've been avoiding him, suddenly nowhere to be found at the bar you used to appear at every single day of the week. and though the two of you attended the same college, you made extra sure to-

"jeno told me eunmi asked him for my lecture schedule for you, wonder why." a smirk grazes his lips, playfully. he’s grinding on your ass now, slow compared to the music blasting from overhead. taking your shoulder in his hands, he spins you to face him, "why are you avoiding me? tell me." jaemin places a hand on the curve of your neck, brings you closer to him, either so that he could hear your response better or because of whatever lust was running through his eyes. somehow, even with the minuscule amount of alcohol in your system, you can’t bring yourself to mind that he’s looking at you like some starved animal. 

"what do you want, jaemin?" he doesn't hesitate to show you, a lazy kissed pressed to your lips before leaning in towards your ear, "i want you in my bed."

no objections are made when the arm around your shoulder tightens its hold, so as not to loose you in such a crowd. nothing is said in opposition when he ushers you towards the stairwell, brushing past people left and right. no sign of reluctance is apparent when you cross the threshold of his room, shutting the door behind you. and not a trace of hesitance is found as you find a spot beside the man who's already placing a strand of wide kisses onto your neck.

"what'd you say about not being one of my fuckbuddies the other day?"

"well," you hastily move to straddle him, allowing him to a wider expanse of your chest, "i was drunk, fuck whatever i said." you lean back for the slightest of seconds to catch his expression, lust lined his eyes. certainly, you felt like one of his fuckbuddies now but maybe this is what you need, a distraction. just one thing in your life, one time, one moment in time where it wasn't so frustratingly shoved up in your face that your world, your one love, hadn't been torn down right before your eyes. maybe kissing jaemin with such raw desire would finally give you the reigns over your goddamned emotions. his lips on your collarbone, tracing down slower and slower onto your breasts, his hands guiding you lower and lower into his bed, it felt exhilarating. in that one second, when his fingers moved to the hem of your dress, eyes shifting to meet yours in question, you nod fervently because really, you want to let him in, you feel safe letting him in. 

but it only lasts for that one second because the door is burst open in the next, and a tipsy man and a wasted woman are storming on inside, eyes raking the place until they land on you and yours land on theirs, on his. mark lee. it's mark lee's eyes and as you take in the sight of the rest of him, the familiar him, and the girl by his side, suddenly nothing has ever felt more wrong. jaemin's lips, his hard on pressing against your core, nothing has ever felt more wrong when mark lee is staring right at you. why is it that you feel like you've cheated on him?

he leaves, pulling the woman behind him.

the party is alive, it's at its height, it's roaring and it's ravaging fun. the party is in full swing yet, for once, you're not partaking in it. "are you okay? do you need some water?" you lick your lips and decide, "some water would be nice, thank you." jaemin leaves the room, door clicking shut behind him and signaling your immediate breakdown.

a shudder passes your lips, reverberates down your spine, curls your toes. you draw into yourself, bringing with you jaemin's blankets on which you were sat. there is nothing more that leaks from your countenance than bouts of undisturbed anxiety that you let wrack your walls of understanding and awareness. you don't bother to fight back with distractions, no alcohol this time, no quick fucks, nothing to ease the weight that settles in your gut, presses down your heart and blurs the visions of jaemin's room.

he returns in seven minutes, promptly enough, for you're just about to wither in the confines of loneliness. the blankets are pulled taut around your figure and your head is in between your knees, mind flitting between images of mark and images of the darkness that threatens to envelop you whole. jaemin places the cup of warm water on the nightstand and dips the bed to your right though you barely register his presence until his hand begins kneading lines down your back. 

the feeling returns. the one you know all too well by now. the one where the skin on your forehead feels too tight from being scrunched in frustration for too long, when your brain feels like it doesn't belong in your skull, when you feel ruptures in your heart, aches in your soul, as if you were to combust if you so much as moved in the slightest. your ragged breaths echo in your head, over and over, as if to remind you that you aren't okay, that nothing is real, that the only thing keeping you alive are your breaths, the only thing between life and death.

your breaths are also what grounds you, focusing on the in and out, the way the air fills your lungs, the way it exits. your hands begin to mellow their shake and you begin to gain some semblance of your being. you feel that jaemin is all around you. he's everything you smell, his breaths are all you hear, his lean body and arms are all you feel, and though you can't see him, you know he's there.

he's there when you turn in his embrace, looking up at him with eyes that tell age-long tales of hurt from delivering too much passion whilst receiving near to none. he's there when you wrap your arms around him, head tucking into his chest. he's there when your breaths even and he's there when you tell him you can't fall asleep. 

jaemin hands you a set of his clothes, a light shirt and sweatpants, and ushers you gently into the bathroom. you change without looking in the mirror, afraid of what you'll see. he tugs you by the hand, once you're out, to the car. you only question him thirty minutes into the ride, "where are we going?"

he doesn't quite answer you, "if i'm right, we should be just in time." scrunching your nose in the darkness, "just in time for…?" 

it's then that he turns into a dim parking lot and suddenly everything becomes clear when the wide screen comes into view, "jaemin...you 50's romanticist." the time is almost four in the morning, you didn't know the local drive-in theater had screenings that early and you're surprised that the man in the driver's seat knows. he offers you a hand and you take it, absentmindedly. 

the movie is interesting enough to keep your begrudging thoughts away until an hour or so passes and you're beginning to teeter from exhaustion. before you have a chance to pass out, jaemin gives your fingers a little squeeze, alerting you, and then slowly tugging you over the middle console of his car and into his lap while lowering his seat. again, you comply absentmindedly, you're in no mindset to be complaining. 

straddling him for the second time that night, you sigh into his chest. your eyes are fluttering closed when you begin to trace back the moments that brought you to this mess in the first place, the events that led to you in na jaemin's lap, the boy renowned in bed. you're a conscious thought away from voicing aloud your hatred of love. fucking love.

the prospect of love is addicting to you, like a drug in many more ways than one. you want to get lost in someone's eyes, you want to swim in the embrace of your other half, you want to be able to romanticize every aspect of your life, to be able to attribute your everything to one single person who would do the exact same for you. you can't part with the thought that love isn't for you.

and you know that there really are people who live just fine being single, people who don't feel the need to share their every joy and letdown with a special someone, people who feel enough just being in their own company. you know that yet, you're fully convinced you just aren't one of those people. because no matter how hard you want to say that getting left in the dust for the eighth time became the turning point in this endless chase, you can't see yourself ever stopping. there is not a single part of you that wishes to stop. 

your breaths are shallow and brimmed with sobs as you drift into rest. above all that's been said, the least you can admit is that love is only a feeling. just like any other. 

✧ ONE (01) YEAR AGO

"mark, what the fuck, we never go on actual dates." you complain, though you really don't mind all that much. the car pulls into a parking spot in front of the library, "and who's to say study dates aren't actual dates?" he opens the door for you and you roll your eyes graciously. 

the two of you take your usual spots, the two at the end of the long row in the central area. it's halfway secluded, one side shoved against the wall, but still enough in the open to keep you guys from entirely ditching school work and talking until shushed by a librarian. 

he's about to say something when a librarian appears just around the corner, pushing a cart of books. so instead, mark takes a piece of lined paper from his notebook, gently ripping it at the edge, taking his pen out and writing a line and passing the note to you. i'll take you somewhere nice next time. sorry babe, i just happened to have a lot of work today.

you press your lips together, eyeing the man that was eyeing you back, okay, my love. you pass it back, shooting him the most playful of smiles. he writes quickly and when he slides the paper back to you, you read his words quickly. sure thing, my world.

you giggle, the sound eliciting a glare from the stressed schoolmate beside you. quickly you jot down the words you've been wanting to say to him. fine by me, my future. you shuffle the paper towards the man across from you, unwilling to hide yet another smile that spreads across your face. you watch as mark takes the paper in his hands, skims the words you've carefully penned and then, he puts it away, tucks it into the front of his backpack. you smile fondly at him for safekeeping the paper, thinking he'd want to keep it as a little memento, a token of your love for him.

perhaps you should've thought a little more about it, the action, because in that moment it never occurred to you that he only put it away because he didn't want to respond, he had nothing in his heart that he could say to top that, and he most certainly did not see you as anything more, much less his future. 

that lined piece of paper has long been discarded by now, in the most literal and figurative sense. mark could chalk it up to the possibility that it was just the right person at the wrong time but he knows there's absolutely nothing wrong with the time. college was going to zip by quickly for the two of you, you guys could move in together maybe, tell each other about your new jobs, every pay raise you got, and when you guys begin to settle down, a house would be bought and a ring would be proposed, and kids and old age would follow. somehow, mark can't help but acknowledge the fact that it simply was the wrong person at the right time. deep down, he knows it's always been that way for him. not for you. and he could only hope to turn back time and tell you a little sooner, maybe lessen the pain he knew he was to eventually inflict upon you. two years was two years too long. mark’s a nice guy and the weight of being your eighth breakup had a tough hold on him, it really did.

✧ PRESENT

you lift your feet up onto the other side of the booth, back against the window and your arrangement of your textbooks and computer to your left. jaein, studious as ever, looks up at you for a brief moment, "break? already?"

it's only been thirty minutes since the two of you arrived with the set intentions to study. "yup, already." you sigh, with everything going on, it's hard to pay attention to just one thing. especially something that seems so insignificant in the whole scheme of things. "y/n, are you getting enough sleep these days?"

you look over at her, her hair swept into a small ponytail, eyes holding the stars. jaein had her own fair share of problems, especially when it came to boys, but she never halted to care for herself. you wish you could be like her. "enough, yeah i'm getting enough." she puts down her pen, wrinkling her nose, "well then, make sure to get more than enough, yeah?" you only nod in response. 

jaein's eyes rome until they settle upon a girl a few tables down, also studying. she cocks her head in inquisition, "hey, isn't that minyoung?" you wait for jaein to look away before you take a peek behind you, not wanting to seem conspicuous. you know her, you share some of your professors with her, you see her almost everyday, but you've never been riled up by just her presence being in the same room as yours. you look back at jaein, "yeah, that's minyoung."

"minyoung as in the girl that jaemin's datin-"

"they're not dating," you intercept. sighing in distaste, you follow up to cover your evident aversion of the girl, "just fucking around." jaein only nods, eyes wide in worry.

a few minutes pass and you're already sinking back into your workload when she speaks, "does it bother you? that they- they're fucking around?" now, you're sinking into yourself because you really have no idea what you're supposed to be feeling, how you're supposed to be feeling, or even if you're supposed to be feeling anything for this boy who you know little to nothing about.

but you guess it's because of what you do know about him that throws you off. na jaemin, the campus fuckboy, heart throb, and whatever other name that makes his image sound as vile as it is enticing. in some other universe, you're sure to have already let him eat you out over the course of the few weeks you've known him but somehow, you're glad that you reside in the universe where your head seems to be more securely fastened above your heart. you lick your lips in consideration but nothing comes to mind. 

it's frustrating because as much as you hate to admit it, na jaemin makes you feel something. he stirs up something within you, something that hasn't been there in a long time. maybe not since your first crush or when mark first asked you out or even in the heights of your relationship with him when you felt like you could feel nothing more than love for the wretched boy.

you tell her, "it bothers me. it shouldn't, but it does." because though you don't know why. why you're feeling so strongly, or feeling at all, for a man so far from what you need after the end of a long-winded and committed relationship. you don't know why you even care, if anything, him fucking around with a handful of girls served even more as a sign for you to just stay away. getting invested in his small, thoughtful actions and his intense, loving stares is just asking for a ninth breakup. you don't know why but the idea of him being in bed with another girl, bothers you. it shouldn't, but it does.

jaemin isn't ever invited to these types of outings. usually, on a weeks basis, he's invited to quite the number of houses instead. houses of girls and houses that housed parties. never a restaurant, and never in the middle of the day. jeno had let that he was invited because eunmi had some 'investigation' to do, so naturally, he'd expect you to be there as well. turns out this investigation was set up for himself only, seeing as he was now sitting at the far edge of the table, to the left of renjun, whom he had never personally met, and across eunmi, who seems to spend most the time scrutinizing him instead of eating. 

the purpose of his presence is made clear as eunmi sits up straight, gaze still fixed on him, and asks straight to the point, "what do you want with y/n?"

jaemin places his fork down calmly but his voice is anything but that, surprised, "i- what do i- what do you mean?" his hands are folded in his lap now, he wonders if this was the reason you didn't come, he wonders if eunmi asked him to come just to interrogate him in front of all your friends. she's still staring at him and though he's taller, he feels a great deal smaller when everyone's eyes are turned to him. hell, even jeno stopped ogling at jaein to give his attention to the scene on the other side of him. 

he clears his throat and reiterates, now with a sense of the atmosphere, "what do you mean?" jaemin blinks rapidly as eunmi heaves a sigh, placing two folded hands on the table and pushing her point to light, "why are you messing with her? you wanna fuck her? you know she's off limits for you." jaemin asks the two question he knows he'll end up regretting, he can't help the spite that curls at the edge of his mind for the girl who so fervently despises him, "why is she off limits for me, huh? got something against me?"

"yeah, yeah i do. you go around sleeping with every other girl you see, you, jaemin, you are the last thing she needs right now."

"who are you to decide what she needs-"

"i'm just looking out for her, okay? and, shit, i know she has every right to, i don't know, fuck around with you too, but i can't sit here and watch as she falls for someone that doesn't give two shits about how she feels."

jaemin finds that he has nothing to say. the words echo around in his head, fall for someone, fall for him. he stares down at his food, takes a sip of his water, wipes his clammy hands on a napkin. when he looks up again, eunmi's expression is a tenfold softer than it was before. 

"i'm sorry, jaem. it's just- i don't trust you anymore. you've changed a lot since, since…high school." jaemin only nods. 

revolutions are held within him as he drives home that day. jaemin notes that the feelings are nothing new, he thinks it has something to do with the little churns in his stomach on the fifth night of your week of 'get drunk, get wasted.' he doesn't bother to suppress the feelings this time, it's been too long, he thinks. 

it's been too long since he's liked someone for who they really are instead of just their pussy, he thinks. he, and his loving self, welcomes the feeling with open arms. it's been years since the giddy persona of a lovesick jaemin resurfaced. he's glad it's because of you.

"jaemin, hey, do you need anything?" you remove your eyes from your computer screen for the first time in a few hours, you barely register the strain when his voice is quick to respond from the other end of the line, "can you come down? i'm outside, got a lil something for you." eyes almost ejecting out of their sockets, you quickly mutter a, "sure, i'll be down in two," before hanging up, slamming your computer shut, throwing on a hoodie over your lazy study-day outfit, and grabbing your keys after almost forgetting them entirely. 

straightening down the stray strands of your hair as you tread down the steps of the stairwell, you take a minute to breathe, a minute to yourself, before exiting the building. the sky is dark, the time being a little after dinner, but the lamplight that falls onto the man's face makes your heart swoon at the sight. dangerous territory. 

"hey," you voice as he meets you in the middle. "what are you-"

"here," he holds out a teddy bear, medium in size, brown and fuzzy. you take it from him graciously and he tucks his hands into his jeans pocket, "i was just-i just thought that you'd...yeah." chuckling, you notice the hues of warmth rise in his cheeks. "wow, didn't think you were one to blush." he's laughing as well, from the embarrassment, hand coming up to cover his cheeks, to cover his smile, his stupid smile. 

his smile never falters when he asks, "may i ask you something?" you nod, unassumingly.

"can i take you out on a date? next week maybe?"

breathless and eyes sparkling, you look up at him as if he were the one who put the sparkles in your eyes. he really was. now, it's you that blushes, hands coming up to cover your own cheeks, "yeah, i'd- i would like that." you almost want to coo at him when you see the relief that washes over his expression. 

"you would?"

"yes, jaemin," you give a breathy laugh, "i'd like that very much."

fucking love. that one stupid feeling that could get you so emotionally intoxicated in ways no substance ever could. the kind of love that made you want to scream into the void, to exclaim your sheer and utter elatedness to the world. fucking love that you could never not chase, especially if it was jaemin.

mark never took pictures of you. not that you expected him to by default, he just never did. jaemin, however, shows up right outside your dorms, a camera hanging down from his neck. you can't say it doesn't charm your heart.

"what's that for?" you eye the camera as you slip into the passenger seat. you already know, you just love it when he says, "for you, of course." his hand holds yours as he drives and it stays that way until the two of you arrive. 

the botanical gardens are, for the most part, empty on the weekdays, working wonderfully in your favor as jaemin leads you, also by the hand, through the forests of greenery, the air so crisp that it fills your mind with clarity after a week of muddled studying. jaemin compares you to the likes of several flowers, all of which he implores for you to pose next to for a picture. he especially finds the daphne odora, the winter flowering of daphnes, to hold the highest esteem in regards to you. you have not the slightest idea why.

the two of you are strolling under the glass-covered conservatory when light conversation turns heavy. confusion lines your face as you look over at him, "jaem?"

"yes?" he takes an extra step or two to match your pace. you stare at his feet as you speak, "what's...what's different about me?"

"what do you mean by that?" hesitance sits in your every word, "you don't treat me like...one of them, like one of you're fuckbuddies."

"because you're not," he replies simply. in all honesty, there's something you're looking for, something you just need to know, though you are lost in how to phrase it. shaking your head a bit, to wrack the insides for an answer, you end up regurgitating the same question, "yeah but, what makes me different?"

jaemin doesn't seem to mind and answers to his best ability, "well, for one, we're not fucking. and then there's the fact that i- that…" he trails off, the words are right there at the tip of his tongue, waiting to jump out at you, to allow you to revel in his love. he doesn't dare voice them aloud, the threat of rejection is stemming and rooting itself in his bloodstream. unaware, you urge him on, "that…"

your date is lost in thought, eyes seeming to be particularly interested in a bloom of camellias. you suppose they're plenty interesting but you wonder how he'd lost the interest in speaking with you so quickly. was it something that you said? maybe asking him so upfront like that wasn't the best choice. jaemin, meanwhile, is panicking. sure, the camellias look beautiful but the millions of thoughts that course through his mind are each occupying too much space for his mouth to actually form a string of words that make coherent sense.

jaemin finally, finally settles on something to say, just as the two of you are rounding upon the exit. he subtly wishes he'd gotten a picture of you by the camellias. turning his sights back in your direction, he verbalizes, "are you going home for winter break?"

lips pursed, you shake your head, "no, i was just planning on staying at school-"

"do you wanna come with me? back home?" 

you stop in your tracks. jaemin walks on until the hand that's carrying yours is tugged to a stop. he looks back at you and sees the way you gulp, the way you refuse to return his gaze. he makes his way back to you, closing the distance he's created. jaemin is a few seconds, a few thoughts, away from recollecting his propositions with a 'nevermind' and a quick brush of a hand but you beat him to it, voice small, but instead of hesitance, it's laced in full conviction.

"yeah okay, i can do that."

it isn't until you're back in your dorms later that night, going over a couple of review sheets for your upcoming exam, that you think to do a little research. a new tab is opened, a few words are typed, and you're floored with what you're met with. 

the daphne odora (winter daphne), where 'odora' is latin for fragrant, is most noted, though not often, to be a symbol of doting love, as if to say 'i would not have you otherwise." it flowers in the winter and is primarily prone to wilting in hard soil and low sunlight…

✧ SIX (06) MONTHS AGO

mark's parents give you a once-over before letting you in. just the way they look at you speaks volumes. you can only hope they don't treat you any different. for some reason, his house feels cold, unpleasant, unwelcoming. and though you thought any homemade meal should bring about a sense of warmth, dinner is passed in tight-lipped smiles and the worst type of small talk, small talk about the weather. 

retreating into his room after dinner, you decide to bring to light your worries, "mark, i don't think they really-" evident, he's already two steps ahead of you, "it's fine, y/n, they just haven't seen me date someone in awhile."

treading carefully over to his bed and placing a knee upon the sheets, you offer, "so...overly critical?"

he gives you a look, one that opposes your quavering brows and reverts your worries, "exactly."

"right," you huff a sigh of relief, as far as you know, you're convinced but the underlying layer of disbelief still holds true, "i'm gonna go get changed, okay?" you hear a mumbled, "okay" in response as you reopen the door, sights already on the bathroom at the end of the hall. it's when you're at the top of the stairwell, just before your destination, that you hear the conversation from down below, his parents you suppose.

"i'm just saying we shouldn't take this too seriously," by the pitch, you tell it's mark's mom. you move for the bathroom, uninterested, until his dad speaks up as well, "i know, especially with how she looks, exactly like her don't you think?"

"it's the eyes, they have the same eyes," your hand, just above the doorknob, is held in place. your face, expressions of the shock and concern that comes with the revelation, is unmoved. and your breath is no longer coursing air through your lungs.

"mark must still be really hung up on her if he's stuck with that replacement for so long," your hands being to shake and you're afraid that whimpers will arise in their wake, you make haste into the room, closing the door after enduring one last sentence. his mom chuckles, "poor soul, i hope he tells her soon."

you can't find the light switch but you're trembling fingers are quick to latch onto what you assume to be the shower dial, turning on the water to mask your loud sobs. you lock the door behind you, sliding down the back of it while letting out the briniest of tears. the rubber bathroom mat underneath you squeaks and your feet hit the vanity across from you. hands in your hair you can only pull at the strands, the strings of curse words and pain that emit from your figure more mental than physical.

you've never wondered what it would be like to be filed under 'replacement,' or to have a spot in someone's life as merely a disposable placeholder, someone whose presence was dictated solely by how well you satisfied the other's needs for closure, or lack thereof. now you're wondering if that is really all there is to love, satisfying each other's self-serving desires. you wonder if mark served some sort of purpose to you. but you could not, for the life of you, think of one. never in your life as now have you wanted so badly to see the good in a person you swore to love for perhaps the rest of your life. 

you want to look him in the eye and tell him that you can't take it anymore, the disrespect, the mistreatment. maybe you could be dramatic and throw a hand across his face, a cup of water to douse his senses. you'd think that a man so kind would be the epitome of committed lover, never one to be agenda-oriented, not that the mark you now pictured was some scheming wretch, but you had to keep in mind that even going as far back as when he first laid his eyes on you, the interest you saw in them was in reality just familiarity. somewhere in you, something about you, maybe not even your looks, resonated with the memory of someone that was already held close to his heart, long before you came along. you were just there so he could relive his past, relish in his memories, prolong the inevitable. 

but more than everything, you despise yourself. it's because of who you are, your willingness to be unfalteringly loyal even in the face of something so wrong, that makes it so you are always the backup plan, the last resort, the dumped and not the dumper. it's who you are that keeps you silent till the very moment he ends the whole damned relationship, till the very moment when there's no point in speaking out anymore, so that all that's left to do is to cry out. 

✧ PRESENT

the sky is vast out in the countryside. the wind pays no mind to ruffling the leaves on the trees, branches already bare in the wake of autumn. you wished it could snow, just a little, though you doubt the early december rains would be so willing to fall into harsh winter so soon. jaemin ushers you to close the window your finger are flitting out of, he keeps ushering you, but you give him a shake of your head each time, you like the cool air. as he exits the highway, you finally slip them back in, tips of your fingers numbed raw, and jaemin looks at you in an 'i told you so' fashion before rolling the window up to keep the heated air within. 

as so many times before, he takes your hand in his while he drives. fussing, his own fingers now encasing and rubbing yours to build the warmth back up. you perk up as the surroundings start to speak more 'countryside' than 'middle of nowhere.' a gas station, diner, couple of shopping plaza are passed, "how much longer?" jaemin pulls to a stop at a red light, "four, maybe five." eyes sparkling, you turn towards him, bringing your legs up on the seat and pulling his hand in yours to your lap, "ooh, so we're close. really close."

the light turns green and jaemin waits for the car in front of him to move, "why? you nervous?" you squirm in your spot, under his gaze, "i mean, n- no," rubbing the back of your neck, "yeah, a little i guess."

"and why is that?"

your hand is still on the back of your neck, fumbling with your words, "well, i mean, your parents. and we're not even- yeah, i don't know." 

you say you don't know, yet, both of you know exactly what you're trying to say. 

jaemin's childhood home is quaint, with a big front and backyard, and the only house on his street that has offwhite siding paint and soft blue shutters. you'd never pegged him to be a countryside kind of boy. 

you've only known jaemin for the better part of two months, yet, the first thing his mom does is hold you in her warm, welcoming embrace. "y/n, dear! such a pleasure to have you here, you're all jaemin talks about over the phone." you blush at that, pulling away from her to give your most sincere smile. you wonder since when blushing was your thing.

his mother does her absolute best to learn your whole life story over the course of one single meal and his father is gruff but fails to hide a smile at your small attempts at anecdotes while jaemin full on chortles on his food. you're glad that not once do they bring up the questionings of your and jaemin's relationship because frankly, you have no idea what the whole deal with it is yourself. 

even after dinner, his mother is quick to pull you into the living room, tightly bound photo albums stacked high in her hands. as the two of you coo over two-year-old jaemin taking a bath, four-year-old jaemin at his first piano recital, seven-year-old jaemin's face smushed in his birthday cake, the actual jaemin finishes up washing the dishes and makes his way to his packed bags, unveiling a pack of...you're not sure.

he sits to your right, setting the paper envelope on the table. you pick it up just as he puts it down. peering in, you pull out a bundle of photos strapped together with a measly rubber band. slipping it off, your eyes soften when you realize that almost two thirds of the stack is just you, and then a flower or two, and then some more of you. 

jaemin and his mother are hovering over your shoulders on both sides when you reveal the last picture, one of you and jaemin that he had so kindly asked another visitor to take, the daphnes in the back. he had said something funny, you wish you remembered what it was, and in the moment you were looking up at him with your face scrunched in amusement, but it was too late, the picture had been taken. the man on your right takes the laminated photo from you, "i think," he starts, hands navigating the photo albums to find the most recent one. flipping it open, he slides it into the slot underneath a picture of him at his high school graduation, "i think it goes here."

jaemin gives his mother a look, unbeknownst to you, and she dismisses the two of you hurriedly to go off to bed, to get some rest after a long car ride. jaemin doesn't think much of that, apparent in how he does urge you to shower, unpack, and get comfy in his bed but also keeps you up, talking into the depths of the night.

he explains to you, later after you had asked, why his albums only went up until the end of his high school days. his head is propped up on the pillow, body strewn on the thin mattress of his bedroom floor, but both upturned to you perched on his bed. his room is a showcase of his younger years, far before you knew him, and even farther before you heard rumors of him. the walls are littered with certificates of merit, ribbons of academic excellence and his shelves, instead of books, have been cleared out for an abundance of trophies, for innumerable instruments, for perfect attendance, for anything and everything a person under eighteen could be awarded for. you'd never pegged jaemin to be a countryside boy, and added on to that, you'd never have pegged him to be the goody-two-shoes his childhood home so plainly made him out to be. 

he tells you, himself, how college had changed him, how freedom had changed him, how being admitted into the fraternity changed him, how parties, underage drinking, sex, how it all rewrote the person he used to be. he looks you in the eye and tells you how much he loved the thrill, the adrenaline, the popularity, the sheer magnitude of people he had swooning over him, at his feet, on their knees. he tells you he loved it and that he's not so sure if he loves it now.

"why the sudden change?"

jaemin could tell you that he doesn't know, really, that maybe he just grew up a little and saw his time wasted, that perhaps he realized all the fights he had with his parents were simply not worth it. or, he could tell you the truth.

"because of you."

"what do you mean?"

"i mean," he's scrambling to sit up straight now, so he can look you in the eyes. if he's going to do this, he's going to do it properly. his eyes level with yours, lips freshly licked, he dives in the deep end. "i think i just- i met you at your worst. and we talked, and we, i don't know, flirted, and everything was supposed to just pan out how it usually does. you know, in bed. but it didn't." you've sat up as well, feet hanging over the edge of his bed and barely scraping the floor. you reach to hold both his hands in yours, though you have not the slightest clue where he is going with this tangent. "it didn't, but even then, i- i never-" it seems that even he doesn't know.

jaemin's hands start to clam in yours but there's an underlying determination that still holds strong, he's nowhere near done. "i never stopped going after you, and not at all for the sex. i- it was really just for you."

your jaw unhinges itself, hand not bothering to cover, thoughts elsewhere. what you thought might've been his life-changing, inspirational, heart-spurring tale, is turning out to be something you were inexplicably unprepared for. your newly sprouted tears are at the brink of overflowing as you try to make sense of the mess your mind has already made for itself. the questions are almost pushed over the precipice of your tongue before jaemin clears the air with finality and a handful, of in-the-moment confidence.

"y/n," jaemin's fingers glide over your knuckles in half the rhythm of your heartbeat, "i met you at your worst and i think that somehow it made me realize that i was also at my worst. and i don't know what people have to say about two sad people falling in love, all i really know is that i like you. i really fucking like you."

as if on cue, you start crying right then. "fuck, jaem," you pull your hands from him to swipe at your face and he's moving onto the bed as he speaks, dumbfounded, "why are you crying, y/n? is this like a 'i like you back and i'm happy' or 'i don't like you back' kinda cry?" you throw your head back in unprecedented laughter as he takes you in his embrace. your head rocks back and rests on his shoulders, arms coming up to encase them. "it's a 'relieved that i'm not the only one' cry."

he draws back, hands still holding you at the waist, "so, i'm taking that to mean you like me back?" you lick your lips, "maybe...possibly, you'll have to find out on your own." jaemin shakes his head, the back of his right hand coming up to caress the apples of your cheek. chuckling he retorts, "you're saying that like i don't already know. eunmi kinda let it slip a few weeks ago." 

"she what?!"

"well, she kinda said that you were falling for me or something like that."

"well," you stop, in confoundment of being left in utter betrayal, "well, she's wrong. tell her that i said she's wrong."

"but you-"

"no, fuck what i just said, she's wrong."

"i- okay," jaemin watches you fall back onto your back with a huff, he follows shortly. the ceiling the both of you stare at and beyond is rightfully comforting after a week that just happened to start well, go well, end well. maybe love is your forte, after all, loving yourself after all that's happened, loving others despite all that might go wrong, anything to do with love. you suppose the getting dumped the eighth time would have made that quite obvious but you just had to throw yourself out there again, just to make sure. and boy were you glad you did just that.

jaemin is cutting fruit when it first begins to snow. apples are especially delectable in the winter, he knows he's bound to love them even more after this one winter. you're on the couch when it begins to snow, just shy of beating your long-withstanding high score on some game you were admittedly terrible at. jaemin joins you on the couch with the plate of apples, moments after it beings to snow.

"jaem," your lay a hand on his thigh, your sights elsewhere, "look, it's snowing."

you're scrambling to get a scarf around your neck, your boots zipped, the turtleneck underneath your coat pulled to your chin. the sky is almost dark, sunset not entirely visible under the veil of clouds. jaemin can't decide what is more enlightening, the snow or you and the ear-splitting grin that takes up half your expression. he decides that it's you. 

you aren't even allotted the time to make snow angels before his lips are on yours. it's not the first time the two of you have kissed but neither of you will deny how different it feels. jaemin guesses it's because the way his lips move against your is fueled by untainted adoration and he suspects the same from you. he molds them steadily, wanting to take delight in the feeling for as long as hig lungs would permit. specks of snow dust the crests of your cheeks and the tail ends of his eyelashes. they heat in contact with your skin and begin their descent, deliquescing as they stray down the curves of your cheeks, meeting at your mouth that so fervently moving again jaemin's. it's where the cold melts of snow meet the warm mix of salivation. 

you wield all the experience you will ever need, yet, it feels like it's your very first kiss, butterflies stirring down in your tummy and all. it never ends, it really doesn't. not when he first parts for air, or when you part the time after that, or even when you notice his mom, hands on her hips, from the window, or when the snow begins to clot at your feet. 

you think you love him.

despite all the thoughts that tell you it's cheesy, it's boring, it's lame and conventional, you tell him on valentine's day. 

the party is alive, it's at its height, it's roaring and it's ravaging fun. the party is in full swing and as what is now considered usual, neither you nor jaemin are eager in partaking in it, opting to simply hang out in his room, above the loud music and the moans from the opposite ends of all four walls. the door is locked this time and instead of joining the crowd in the main event of fucking each other senseless, the two of you have a small setup on his bed, littered with textbooks, previous exam papers, a fancy charcuterie board, courtesy of the dedicated chef, jaemin himself. you're on your back, feet hitched upon the headboard and laptop positioned at a ninety degree angle on your ninety degree angled legs. jaemin is on the floor rather, using the bed as a makeshift table even though he has an actual table not two feet away. 

"i wish we could go to your dorms, it's loud as fuck." in response, you heave a sigh, mind now sidetracked from your work, "a pity i live on the fifth floor, we have no chance in sneaking you in." a thought dawns on him and he wonders why neither of you thought of it before, "let's go to the car."

it's quite the sight and you're sure anyone who's actively paying attention would laugh. jaemin's arms are locked straight up, supporting yours, his computer, and three textbooks, as he navigates the swarm of people to the exit. you're, following in tow, arms held up in similar fashion but instead of a stack of books, you're hoisting the charcuterie board, still abundant with cheese and grapes and a dip of honey. the threat of everything toppling over is very much apparent.

he'd driven a little ways down his street so that the buzz of the party could be left fully behind. the only thing aiding your studying is now the low-grade yellow lights that come with the fold down mirrors. "holy shit, jaem," your mouth waters even as it anticipates its next bite. "what?" he glances over at you. the charcuterie board is hiked on your knees that are drawn to your chest, makeshift tables are all too common today it seems. all the cheese on the board have an identical bite on them, a result of your taste testing but it seems that only one has drawn your liking so much so that you have eaten most the portion provided. "this- the- what's this one?"

"petite jalapeño, why?"

you cover your mouth as you chew hurriedly, "it's so fucking good, babe, with the honey. oh my god, i love you." you've finished chewing but you don't notice what's left your mouth, definitely not food.

"you what?"

you're thoughtlessly thrown into his trap, "i love- fuck."

"you love fuck."

"wait no."

you put the plate on the dashboard, dusting off your hands while your cheeks dust rose under the dingy lights. "i- wait, yeah i," you shift a leg under you, turning to your boyfriend but refusing to look him in the eye. you speak to the outlines of the house two down from his, "i guess i do love you."

"y/n, look at me."

you shy away from him, embarrassed yet overcome with the sudden wash of feelings. you knew this, you do love him, so why is it so hard to voice aloud? he brings his hand to your chin, leans it towards him until you have no choice but to gaze into his loving stare. truth be told, you wouldn't have it any other way.

"i love you too."

your fingers play with your bottom lip, thrusting it up and down, left and right as you mull over which picture to post. "bummer, i look great in this one but you're blinking. ugh." swiping to the next one, you find that it's the last. "here," jaemin unlocks his phone with one hand, holds it out for you, "i think i have some that jaein took, she's better at taking pictures than jeno anyways." taking the device from him, you click into his photos and find the last two hundred or so to be just of you and the lavender fields, he hasn't changed a bit. 

jaein does have a lot more sense, "wow my legs look so long in this one," and "geez, that hair flip was entirely unintentional, i must be a natural." jaemin rolls his eyes at that, one hand of his on the wheel while the other makes its way over to your thigh, rubbing a soft, distracted massage. 

the first red flag that draws your attention. you're airdropping a cumulative 54 photos to your own phone when you see a name that you had long forgotten in his top three message chats, minyoung. you ignore it. you post the picture. you edit the caption seven times, each time becoming more indecisive than the last while jaemin gives you the incredulest of looks.

you decide to stay at his place for the night, not that it's an inconvenience to drive the extra two minutes back to your place, but just because he wants to spend the night with you. there's no objections, why would there be?

the second red flag that draws your attention. jaemin's showing you something on his phone, a video of a dog maybe, you've forgotten. the text that drops down while the two of you huddle over the screen holds your interest far longer. it's minyoung and she's telling him to come over. you're slightly alarmed, you're boyfriend even more so. he draws his phone back instantly, to your dismay, and you almost want to snatch it from him, to delve into the depths of the chat. you really almost do. 

"jaem, what did i just see?"

"y/n, it's not what you think," it irks you that he's so quick to defend. you keep your head on cool for now, "okay, then what was it about?" his eyes shift from yours to the wall behind you, you're surprised they're lined with annoyance. he shakes his head, "nothing."

you're thinking it's all the more reasonable for you to be the one who's annoyed. you bit down harsh on your lip, refusing to give way to any of your many impulses, "if it's nothing then why can't you tell me?"

jaemin glances over at you, fleetingly, "i- it's not something you should be worried about. just, trust me, will you?" rubbing your hands down the fabric of your- his sweatpants, you utter a sigh, not sure of how much longer, how many more times you have to be left in the dark, for you to snap at him. you hope it isn't soon. "jaem, i trust you, i do. but that doesn't mean i'll believe everything you say blindly." you note that, for whatever reason, his pupils are shaking. "at least, not after what i just saw."

"then i don't know what to say. you have to trust me on this."

na jaemin has never been stubborn, or, he's never had a reason to be. everything goes accordingly to the way he wants to, that's how it's always been. maybe it's because of his endearing charms that teachers can never fail him, that compliments are always showered upon him. perhaps it's the way he flatters that makes him so likeable, befriending people is as easy as reciting the alphabet when you've frequented too many parties and met too many people. he knows that when he kisses up, people will bow down, he's never been rejected. it's definitely because of his good looks that girls always spilt their legs open for him, they never say no. 

na jaemin gets what he wants, except when he doesn't.

"no."

you leave because you have trust issues, sure, who doesn't, who cares. who cares if there are tears streaming down your face for seemingly stupid reasons? it isn't the first time, it's nowhere near the first time. it's the same feeling you had when you realized your first boyfriend wasn't going to reply back, there's still a read seven years ago below your text. the same feeling when you saw your second kissing your 'best friend.' still all those years ago, when you were two steps away to the lunch table when you heard your third whisper to his friends, "just a stupid bet with a stupid girl." when your fourth told you he lost feelings for you when you were still madly in love with him and when you had to found out from your oldest sister that your fifth was her classmate, in grad school, while you were still in your last year of high school, not even old enough to vote. your sixth trying to strip you of your virginity right after you agreed to be his girlfriend and your seventh basically forgetting you existed. you were getting the same fucking feeling all those months ago when you finally realized your rightful position as 'replacement,' as 'number 2,' as 'poor soul.' maybe distrust is simply inbred in you and though you know the prospects of yours and jaemin's relationship are far from over, you can't deny the gut feeling that your bad luck in men is coming back to haunt you, that it's never left in the first place.

na jaemin forgets that he has a past he can't erase, just like you. the girls he's fucked over the past three years have hearts and they have reasons they began to fuck him in the first place. he couldn't heal their hearts, nor his, but sex did a great deal, made a great deal of people jealous, gave him all he needed at the time. he never expected them to simply go away when he decided to settle down but it seems that his reputation holds so much worth that it's proving hard to overcome it himself. jaemin hates that you date the campus fuckboy, he hates that people still whisper in your ear that he's fucking so-and-so in the dead of night. he hates that he can't get rid of the stigma around his name, even though you know, through and through, that he can't nearly live up to it anymore. you know yet, you leave because of it. his reputation. na jaemin, certified eye candy and delectable dick, wishes he was anyone but himself.

her bare feet shuffling down the hall is the only thing she hears. she wishes they let people wear shoes on the second floor so she could've busted her heels out and clacked her way to his room. she needs the rush of empowerment right now. she needs it. 

the next thing she hears is the sound of raised voices right as she is about to shove the door open, the door fifth on the left of the hall to the right of the stairwell, exactly where you'd told her he'd be, albeit reluctantly. 

eunmi is taken aback now that she recognizes one of the voices behind the door. minyoung. gritting her teeth, she presses her ear to the wood, careful to keep quiet. 

"so you're fucking her now? is that what you're trying to tell me?"

"minyoung, i'm not fucking her. we're dating, it's been that way for awhile," he sounds exasperated, maybe, eunmi can almost see the crease in his brows.

"why didn't you bother to ask me if i was fine with it? we had a thing going, you can't just bail on me like that."

"the only thing we had going was quick fucks every thursday. i'm sorry, but i don't think that's much of a relationship."

her voice is growing impatient, in desperation like she's grasping at loose strings, hanging on to whatever she can find, "this little bitch- does she even know? how much of a dick you are? are you just going to leave her like you did me?"

"stop, minyoung, please,"

but eunmi guesses her point is valid nonetheless, she herself doesn't think very highly of him. "how would she feel if i told her that? that leaving is your specialty? you can fuck me, and all my friends and leave, thinking that we'd never know, but we know, okay? and if you- if you ever think that you'll be satisfied with settling down for this chick, think again jaemin."

eunmi backs into the restroom across the door, for good measure and good sense because minyoung is storming out the second after, unaware of her eavesdropper. a minute and a glimpse later, she knows that jaemin is crouched by the foot of his bed, though she's unsure why.

she braves herself because she's here for answers. reappearing at his door, she calls softly as if raising a white flag, "hey there." jaemin's head snaps up instantaneously in surprise. "oh, hi, what're you doing here?" he lowers himself to sit on the floor and eunmi takes the spot in front of him, wariness in her movements. 

"well, i came here for y/n, obviously, but um, i just happened to hear-" she's cut off when jaemin lets out a low groan into his hands. eunmi makes her stance a little clearer now that she has a better feel of the situation, "i'm not here to break up with you for her or anything. she didn't really want me to come, but i guess, i guess i came because we've also had our fair share of...disagreements that i think we should set straight," she pauses, hands fiddling with her thumbs in her lap, "i'm sorry if this is too much after, all that."

he looks relieved at that, "no, it's fine. i- i'm glad you want to, i don't know, make up. i haven't really been all that great of a friend these past years anyway."

eunmi lets a smile slip at that, what an interesting turn of events, "so...friends?"

"friends."

"and just to set the record straight, you're not still fucking minyoung right?"

jaemin rolls his eyes, shakes his head, gesticulates with his hands, "no, i got y/n. she's all i really need." eunmi nods to fill the awkward silence that follows. she's reminded of another inquiry, "so why didn't you just tell her that?"

"i guess i just didn't want her to worry or like- or get involved with my past, stuff like that. i kinda hated how it's dredged up all the time, especially now that i've, i don't know, settled down, committed."

"should've just told her," eunmi deadpans. 

"i really should've," jaemin agrees.

"need me to drive you?" jaemin's extra careful with his words today, post-arguments can be fickle, particularly if they're only halfway resolved. your voice is muffled on the other end, "no, i'll walk." jaemin's wishes he'd insisted it instead of simply offering, late spring rains weren't all that uncommon, and even more so when the skies are darkening as they are on this specific day. "it might rain though," he tries again. you decline again, "i'll manage, thank you."

he sees you in ten, fifteen minutes or so, and sure enough, you're drenched head to toe, staring up at him with eyes that bear in mind the tension that hangs in between you and also border the bounds of laughter at how you're dripping wet with no one to blame but yourself. jaemin bites back the 'i told you so' and hurries to get you dried off with a towel, changed, and under the sheets. by then, the tension has subsided considerably.

"you wanna talk about it?"

you're tired, though it hasn't even struck five on the clock, "i thought that's what i'm here for."

"so, i'm not fucking her-"

"nice to know-"

"-just had some loose ends to tie up-"

"-and did you?" jaemin supposes you're far too tired to be emitting the same, resolute aggressions as a few days prior seeing as you're keeping your voice to a minimum and the words that come out are straight to the point, blunt. he does his best to reflect the same straightforwardness.

"i did, she's...off my back, our back...our backs."

you give him a look, scrunch your nose, and tug him by the arms into you. there's a blanket separating you two but he fits exactly against you anyways. you wonder how anyone could ever get in between the two of you if you so perfectly mold alongside him. the bridge of his nose nuzzles down your neck and you're laughing because it doesn't get any better than this, really. 

he shuts the light on the bedside table off with an inattentive hand, the blankets are drawn back and he's pulled flush into you. his body heat is welcome on a frigid night and the blanket that falls back on top of him seals the both of you within the confines of his bed for the hours to come. you're starting to think that coming here was more just to cuddle than it was to make up with him.

"i can't get enough of you," his face is in your neck.

"and why is that?"

"because- because everything about you- i feel like i'd be missing out if i never tried to start something with you," he buries himself further in your scent, "it's like i emptied my heart out just so you could fill it back up."

your chin rests on the crown of his head, it tickles him when you speak, now in half wakefulness, "could say the same for you." 

jaemin whispers into your ear, breath fanning down onto your neck, words that will only ever be for you, "i would not have you otherwise."

jaemin spent your spring break at your hometown, to meet your parents, both of which loved him dearly. he wouldn't dare voice it aloud but he thinks it's the sweetest that your mother holds you, her youngest daughter, in such high-esteem after bringing home who she thinks to be the 'most gorgeous man alive,' an utterance he was sure was not meant for him to hear.

he likes being the 'most gorgeous man alive,' especially if you were the one who thought so, but as he watches you stare intently at the flynn rider's jawline, his own jaw clenches. tangled is playing as the pre-movie for movie night, the movie that plays before people actually start to arrive since, donghyuck and eunmi are always destined to be at least an hour late. but it's not that that gets him the most riled up that night, riled up isn't even the right word. maybe agitation, at whoever thought it was a good idea to invite mark lee. mark fucking lee, the grad student. the whoever turns out to be chenle and although jaemin does not have it in him to beat the kid up, he is sure as hell watching over the dude from the moment he walks in to the moment he leaves.

more than that, he also keeps his eyes on you as well, tracing your expression with every word his goddamned senior ought to speak. "hey, y/n, how have you been?" jaemin glares. as far as his detective senses go, he figures that marks target for the night isn't you, but rather eunmi. he hopes he can get over this as quickly and neatly as possible. your face twitches into a smile, uncomfortable, he thinks. "fine, i've been fine. you?" jaemin wants to draw you back and tell you that you had no obligation to be so polite, that the 'fine' would have done its job splendidly on its own.

"pretty good myself, looks like things have been happening around here, huh," jaemin hates the way he wriggles his eyebrows, "hyuck and eunmi, you and him." jaemin hates how he just referred to him as 'him,' surely, there was a lot more due respect than that. "yeah, and jeno and jaein but that's-"

"oh psh, old news," the two of you laugh, you laugh with him, with him. jaemin is just about ready to throw hands when mark excuses himself to get a seat on the floor, serves him right, he thinks. you look comparatively calm next to the raging boy. why is he the only one bothered by this?

"you good there? didn't even say a word to him."

he gulps, "yeah, i'm great. just didn't feel like talking."

you're staring at him like you can see right through him, that's exactly the case, "i'm over him, you know?" jaemin scratches at his neck, "yeah, i know." head on his shoulder as the first official movie of the night plays, you sigh, "no need to get all worked up, i'm all yours." 

the twentieth century fox theme plays in the background of the romance novel you live in. na jaemin makes you feel that way, unfailingly, every single day. it's written in the ways he kisses you, lovemarks blooming under your skin. it's written in the way he stares at you, with nothing else except pure, unadulterated love. it's written in between the lines, his actions, his thoughts, everything that amounts to so much more than the past years of deprivation you've had to endure. it's written in the stars, out in the countryside where jaemin could never fake a smile, not in the presence of you. with you by his side, not in a million years.

it's here. summer fucking break is finally here. and if there's anything to prove that, it's the way you're currently sitting in a car with all your friends. taking a short little road trip out to the beach. now, mind you, these are the same friends that were there on your drunkest nights, slumped over bar counters and blatantly asking for any hot guy's number. the same friends that accompanied you on your most sober nights, holed up in your single-person dorm room, trying to study for an exam for a class you could never wake up in time for. and among those friends is one who has an added prefix, your boyfriend, na jaemin, who's in the driver's seat per your request since your carsickness prevented you from any other seats and you really wanted him by your side. jaemin didn't seem to mind driving, after all, he was next to you. 

the sun is setting too fast and eunmi, sitting in the seat in the far back, complains that they'd have to set up the bonfire right away instead of getting to play in the warm water while it's warm. donghyuck, beside her, is complaining too, but not about the bonfire or even the trip in general, but about eunmi and her legs which are hoisted on his lap, something about how his dingaling needs to breath. jaein, in the seat right behind you is musing on about how she thinks it'll be funny when they arrive and see yeseul and renjun's car torn up in two, neither of them could ever get along. jeno, to her left, is fussing with rubbing sunblock on her, getting angry at how her hair could never stay out of his way. 

you glance over at jaemin who has this smile on his face. this smile that makes it seem like he's in adoration of the whole scene panning out in the rearview mirror. he takes a glance over at you too and, if even possible, his smile beams wider, straight pearly whites and all. his hand finds yours.

it's already dark when the eight of you arrive but eunmi isn't complaining anymore since the boys make quick work in getting the bonfire set up while letting the girls play in the water. the ocean water licks at your feet as you watch eunmi and yeseul duel in how much water they could spray at each other, jaein sitting on the shore off to the side, watching as well. you're pondering going over to accompany her when eunmi's hand latches on your left arm and tugs the whole of you into the water with her. it's warm and wouldn't have been entirely unwelcoming had you gotten a notice in advance. 

you make fun in chasing them around, kicking up water in eunmi's face one too many times that she begins to choke on the saltiness. yeseul is now on the shore yelling at renjun. and jaein is doing her best with a tent. eunmi, who's back you were currently rubbing, is almost through with her fit and you think the mischievous face she's pulling means another round but she brings up a question instead, "how's he in bed?"

she's right if she assumed you'd chuck another armful of water in her face.

you sigh in annoyance as jaemin tosses the towel over your head once again, unsatisfied with how the tips of your hair were still wet. his fingers are ruffling fast and making quick work to dry the strands but you're upset. "jaemin, babe, we've been standing here for ten minutes, can i go now?" your head resurfaces as he gives the towel one more tug, smiling, "just making sure you don't get sick." he follows as you duck into your shared tent to get ready for the bonfire. "shit, jaem. i didn't bring an extra top," you frown but he only smiles wider and grabs his hoodie from the ground beside the sleeping bags. "lucky for you, then," he tugs the article of clothing over your head, only speaking again once your eyes peek out, "because i love seeing you wear my clothes." 

you give him a nose scrunch in return but every word of his, every single word that comes from his mouth is enough to get you swooning. you follow him out the tent.

"so," donghyuck's eyes are playful in the light of the fire, "what game are we playing today?" jeno groans, "do we always have to play some sort of game? why can't we just like…" even he's unsure of what to do. the eight of you are situated around the blazing fire that's, not quite large enough to be a bonfire, but does its job in keeping you warm. jaein perks up after much deliberation, "how about...we go around and each make a wish?"

donghyuck huffs, "fine by me." it starts with jeno, and though you truly value each and every one of your friends' wishes, there's only one that you really remember for the rest of the night, the day, the week, the month, and the years to come. jaemin clears his throat, the rest of the group watching him including you, the you he turns to. you're huddled over on the log beside him, wrapped up in his hoodie and hair an absolute mess. your eyes are heavy and he already knows that once everyone decides to call it a night, you will be the first to leave. you're looking at him in tired anticipation and mild interest, he hopes what he has to say tells you all he needs you to know. 

"i already have you, so there's nothing left to wish for."

the rest of the group breaks off into 'oohs' and 'ewws' but you swear that you and jaemin, jaemin and you are stuck in your own little world. his gaze is incredibly soft and endearing, you scoot closer and place a head on his shoulder, his hand coming around your frame in automatic response. leaning into his warmth, you feel closest to home than you ever have before. 

jaemin carries you to sleep later that night. and even later that night, or rather early in the morning, when you rustle awake, he's aroused by you as well. the two of you sit on a towel atop the dry sand, right before where the tides ride up the shore. basked in the moonlight, jaemin's skin beams a pale sheen and his eyes are cast over darkly, ethereally, divinely. your head is still on his shoulder and you feel the words vibrate through you when he speaks, "did you have fun today?"

you tuck a lip under your front teeth and nod for him to feel. he asks another question, "how are you feeling?" this time, you aren't able to part with just a shake of your head so you sit up, eyes never leaving the push and pull of the sunless ocean, "i feel...happy."

he looks over at you, not in surprise but in interest, "happy? why do you feel happy?" you shrug almost, musing off whatever comes to mind first, "i don't know, school just ended, this trip, summer break. i have a lot of reasons to be happy." jaemin isn't sulky at that but he does his best to pull his name from you, "and what about me?"

you dare a glance over at the man next to you, his eyes already boring into yours, "well, you too, of course." looking away as quickly as you'd looked over, you mumble quietly, "actually, more because of you than anything." in your peripheries, you see him give you a look that speak 'that's what i thought' and you clip down your smile in favor of a shake of your head. 

moving from your spot, you surprise jaemin when you block his view of the seaside. he settles you down into his lap with familiar control, arms cradling you tight to his chest. hand on his neck, you trace it up to his cheek and guide his head down to face yours. jaemin leans in for a soft kiss, lips suckling at your bottom as your teeth tug on his top, slow but sensual, tired but sweet. you pull away for a breath but it's as if he doesn't need to breathe anymore because he chases after your lips almost instinctively. soft kiss after soft kiss is all that's needed for you to pluck up your courage and look him in the eyes, lips detached, and speak the truth your heart has been singing in your ears all along. "jaem," his eyes are hazy as they find yours in the dim light. somewhere in the back, the sun is peeking over the horizon in all its glory but neither of you pay it any mind. "yes, love?" he brushes the hairs from your face, fingers gliding across your cheeks and then fumbling with your bottom lip with his thumb. you blink and you speak.

"i've been waiting for you all my life."

you think back over the past seven months, a little over half a year, that you've had this man in your life, five months of which he was your boyfriend. you wonder how you could've fallen so fast in such a short amount of time. then again, love is rarely ever about how short or how long. it's more about the timing in which everything falls into place, the intensity by which each person loves, their pasts and how willing they are to erase it. falling in love is not about getting it right the first time, to find someone to be your first and last. for you particularly, jaemin is your ninth, and though the prospects of him being your last are still far from true, you know in your heart and in your mind and in every part of your living being that with each coming second, he's a second closer to becoming your last.

copyright © 2020 rouiyan all rights reserved.

✧ end note — if my ex ever sees this, though i truly doubt he will, he gon know i stole one of his lines for jaemin. the wish one. yeah...he always had his way with words, that's about all he had though. but hey, it makes a hell of a good line in this story. i hope you had a good time reading this piece, it was such a pleasure to write. i will see you guys when i wake up for class in three hours hehe. with all the love in the world, rouiyan

[dinosaurtsukki]

❀ weakness | “it wasn’t like that” “then what was it?” feat. akaashi keiji

⇢ day 9 of angstcember

⇢ synopsis: being with akaashi keiji, the vocalist of your favorite band, was a dream come true for you. however, he soon becomes far too out of reach.

⇢ a/n: i really love thinking of main vocalist!akaashi and i’m so glad i got to incorporate it into an angstcember fic :D

⇢ pairing: akaashi keiji x f!reader

⇢ word count: 2.5k words

ANGSTCEMBER MASTERLIST (feat. haikyuu!! and bungou stray dogs)

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the thing about falling for musicians and band members was that there was always going to be a distance between you two. there was the physical distance between stage and audience, and the fact that no matter how many times you showed up at their gigs and screamed about being their fans, you were never really ‘close’ to them.

needless to say, you didn’t really care about all that when you first watched akaashi keiji, the main vocalist of a student band, sing onstage in the local bar that everyone in university visited on friday nights. he didn’t look that much different from the other band vocalists you’ve seen with his curly, brown hair, white t-shirt and jeans, and dark eyes lined with black that always fluttered shut whenever he sang. no, it was the way he sang that caught your attention. his voice a beautiful tenor that drew out every syllable of the lyrics. it was as if akaashi was the siren and the crowds formed the dangerous waves that pulled you in close. 

the stage lights illuminated the shine of his skin, making him look almost ethereal. the boundary between you and the stage felt even greater even though you were in the very front of the crowd. but when akaashi’s eyes fluttered open to survey the crowd, they landed on yours. 

and somehow, it felt as if the distance between you two had been bridged.

...

ever since that night, you had signed yourself up to be their band’s full-time fan. you followed their social media and marked down your calendar to show up at every single gig. always, always, you made it a point to make your way to the front of the audience whenever they played. even though they were still a local band that was pretty much under the radar, you still knew that meeting them in person would take some time. 

or so you thought.

“hey.”

the all-too familiar voice made you stop in your tracks as you left the bar to hurry back to your dorm. blinking with surprise, you turned around to find akaashi keiji himself leaning against the wall outside the bar with his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. you thought you were dreaming, but he was looking right at you.

“you’re the girl who always shows up at our gigs here, right?”

“i... um, yeah!” you nodded, trying to smooth your hair as much as you could as you inched closer to him. “i... really like your music,” you smiled shyly. up close, akaashi keiji looked even more beautiful under the dim lights. the liner around his eyes looked perfectly smudged and you noticed a few piercings in his left ear.

“i’m glad,” akaashi smiled, shuffling his feet. “it’s... comforting, you know? to see a regular fan. most of the time we’re not even sure if people are going to show up.”

“tons of people do,” you said.

“but none quite like you,” akaashi narrowed his eyes at you before his lips turned up in a slight smile. “um, i feel like it would be too presumptuous of me to ask this but, would you like an autograph?”

“y-yes! definitely!” you nodded a bit too excitedly. akaashi chuckled and searched his pockets.

“i think i have a pen here somewhere...”

“oh, hold on...” you searched your purse for anything he could write on, only to come up with a few paper napkins that you always kept with you. “all i have is this, though.”

“well, same here,” akaashi said, lifting the only writing instrument he had on him: an eyeliner pencil. you couldn’t help but stare in wonder as akaashi carefully signed the paper napkin before handing it back to you. 

“figured i should do something nice on behalf of the band for our number one fan before we officially disband,” akaashi smiled.

“d-disband? what? why?” you stammered.

“it’s not official yet, i haven’t told the guys about it,” akaashi rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “but, i’ve been thinking that it’s for the best. sure, being in the band is fun but very few actually make it. konoha-san, bokuto-san, and washio-san, they trust me so they’ll believe whatever i say but i don’t want to lead them on, you know?”

“but you guys are amazing!” you protested. “i mean, sure it’s different from mainstream music and all but the lyrics that you have are straight-up poetry and don’t even get me started on the music...”

“you... think my lyrics are poetry?” akaashi looked at you with wide eyes.

“i mean... of course they are,” you said softly. “but, what i’m saying is i believe in you guys. take it from your number fan, why don’t you?” you pleaded one last time. akaashi looked down at the ground, appearing to mull it over, before smiling and nodding.

“alright then. i’ll give it a few more months.”

“you will?”

“but, if nothing happens by then. i’m afraid we’ll have to say our goodbye’s.”

“that won’t happen,” you shook your head. “i just know it.” you carefully folded the napkin with your precious autograph and placed it inside your wallet. “i’ll be seeing you in more gigs, akaashi keiji.” with a wave, you turned around and walked away.

“wait!” 

you stopped again and turned around. akaashi looked, nervous, for some reason as he stuffed his hands in his pockets again. finally, he asked.

“would you like to grab a coffee sometime?”

...

you never thought you would actually be able to get to know akaashi keiji beyond the version of him he presented onstage. in the mornings, he attended class, writing song lyrics in the margins of his notebook, and worked part-time at the library. he liked drinking his coffee black and adding a few drops of lavender oil in his laundry so he slightly smelled like it. and knowing this bits of information made it even more wonderful to watch akaashi sing onstage.

true to what you said, something did happen within the few months that you convinced him not for them to disband. 

“an invitation to play in the university fair? this is huge!” bokuto, the band’s drummer hooted. you watched with a warm smile on your face as you watched the band members you grew to know and love hug each other. from across the room, akaashi caught your eye before gesturing with his head to head outside.

“what did i tell you?” you grinned smugly when the two of you were alone.

“i know, i know. thank you very much for convincing me to keep the band together,” akaashi smiled at you. 

“you can count always count on me to get your hopes up.”

“you have supported our band since the beginning,” akaashi bit his lip as his eyes flickered to the side. “and, i truly appreciate that but... i was wondering if you could support me a bit more... personally.”

“what? of course i will,” you nodded.

“no, i mean,” akaashi paused, inhaled deeply, before continuing. “y/n... i was wondering if you would like to be my girlfriend.”

be his girlfriend? 

how could you say no? 

“akaashi, of course!” you laughed, flinging your arms around his neck. akaashi’s breath tickled your ear as he pulled you close.

“i’m glad, y/n. i’m so glad,” he smiled, looking down at you. you may have started out watching akaashi from afar, but you had made it closer to him.

...

“there can’t be anything better...” akaashi sang as he played a few chords on the piano, trying out a few different ways to sing the line before settling on a progression that he liked and writing it down. his hair was a mess and he was dressed only in his pajama pants because he headed straight for the stand piano in your bedroom after rolling out of bed. 

“i like the second one more,” you said out loud, watching him from where you lay on the bed.

“really?” akaashi cocked his head, playing the chords and singing it again. “hmm... maybe i could have it for the bridge?” 

“definitely! and you can make konoha insert a cool guitar riff right there,” you added.

“are you sure you don’t want to be credited in the album?” akaashi looked at you with a sideways smile.

“i’m not that ready for fame,” you teased.

“ït’s literally just our second release. it’s not one to hit the charts just yet,” akaashi shook his head.

“you wanna bet?” you smirked. 

“maybe not yet.” akaashi scooted over the piano bench and patted the space next to him. “come, sit here.”

giggling, you left the bed to sit beside him. you loved watching his songwriting process up close, how his thoughts just stringed the perfect words together and coming up with the most amazing melody to compliment it. you loved the sound of his voice, whether it was slightly husky in the morning or as smooth as silk after he drank the tea you’d brew for him, and how his fingers danced over the ivory keys.

“there can’t be anything better than, waking up together when the sunlight hits your face just right...” akaashi sang before pausing. “well, that’s all i got for now.”

“it sounds beautiful,” you sighed.

“that’s because it comes from personal experience,” akaashi smiled, turning to place a kiss on your forehead.

“oh, so am i your muse now?” you teased.

“no,” akaashi scoffed, absentmindedly playing a tune on the piano. “muses are people artists abandon when they’re no longer inspired by them. you,” akaashi grabbed your chin and kissed you on the mouth. “are more than that.”

...

just as you predicted, akaashi’s band grew to success in its own time. the title track of the third album was a hit success, much to akaashi and everyone else in the band’s surprise. they had offers to play on radio shows, to live studio sessions, and then soon, they were able to cut a deal with a record label for their next album. it was the life you knew akaashi had always wanted and you couldn’t be happier for your boyfriend.

you had always known that there was something captivating about akaashi, whether he was on or offstage. he grew to be popular among women and men alike and you just had to be comfortable with it. despite all that, akaashi liked to remind his fans that he already had a girlfriend. he never forgot to dedicate the songs he wrote about you on live or recorded performances and in interviews, he liked to blow a kiss at the camera just for you.

as the band’s number one fan, you still made it a point to attend all of their performances but this time, you weren’t at the very front of the crowd. you were farther now, watching akaashi sing onstage from the VIP section. the view was good but you were much farther now and for some reason, you felt uncomfortable about this.

turns out, it was a prelude to something much worse.

the distance between you and akaashi grew. the band was offered a chance to go on-tour so your boyfriend was constantly caught up in band practices, interviews, and composing new music in the recording studio. your calls with him were always cut short by his manager needing his attention. he even stopped his usual practice of dedicating songs to you.

most nights, you lay in your empty, shared bedroom or absentmindedly played the abandoned piano, wishing you could go back to those days when akaashi was always there when you woke up. 

...

 “y/n... you’re here!” konoha greeted you just outside the recording studio’s door. 

“yeah, i wanted to surprise him,” you chuckled, holding up the box of the birthday cake you had brought. for some reason, konoha’s smile faltered at the sight of the birthday cake. “is... keiji here? did he just leave?” you asked, trying to look over konoha’s shoulder.

“y/n...” konoha paused, evidently struggling with what he was going to say. watching him formed an anxious pit in your stomach. “shit... i-i can’t keep lying to you.”

“konoha... what’s going on?” your hands trembled as they held onto the cake box as the voices from inside the studio grew louder.

“akaashi, you said it would be the last time! we can’t keep covering for you.”

“think about how y/n would feel?”

“let me through! let me through!” you exclaimed, pushing past konoha and into the recording studio room.

nothing could prepare you for what you what you were looking at. now, you understood why those ‘recording studio sessions’ would end up late into the night and why akaashi’s manager, a beautiful young woman who always made you feel less put-together, always looked smug around you. 

“keiji...” your voice shook as you watched your boyfriend shift his gaze guiltily to the floor. “how could you...?”

“it-it wasn’t like that--”

“then what was it?” you practically screamed. 

“look, you don’t know what it’s like dealing with all of this,” akaashi rubbed the back of his head. “all the stress and expectations and having to come up with new material--”

“you could have come to me! i’m right here, i’ve always been right here,” you bit your lip and asked what you were afraid to know. “how long has this been going on?”

akaashi shifted uncomfortably. “...a few months.”

you turned to look at bokuto who had been standing awkwardly in the side of the room since you came in. “how long?”

“longer than that,” bokuto murmured. “sorry we didn’t tell you sooner.”

“i can’t believe you,” you shook your head, slamming the cake down on a nearby table. “happy birthday, by the way.”

“y/n, wait!”

you didn’t give akaashi a chance to explain himself because you’d already seen enough. it was only when you were on a bus on the way home that the sadness started to hit you as sobs escaped from your chest. despite all of this, you missed akaashi terribly. you missed the feeling of his fingers brushing hair from your face in the morning. you missed how he’d wave at you through the glass in the recording studio. you missed hugging him and smelling lavender on his clothes. you missed the soft look in his eyes when he composed a new song dedicated to you.

with the tears running down your face, you searched through your purse for something to wipe your eyes only to come across the edge of the napkin inside your wallet. you pulled it out to find the autograph from akaashi, the very first one he ever gave to anyone, and immediately remembered that night when you two first talked. 

‘to my number one fan: i hope i’ll always get to see your face in the front-row’

the thing about falling for musicians and band members was that there was always going to be a distance between you two. at first, you thought you and akaashi had managed to close that distance, only for you to end up even farther than you ever were. 

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event taglist: @himikadafangirl @swoona-rintarou @l-dokisaki-l @laure-chan @aonenthusiast @ah-kaashi @just-a-gay-bean @linyu-sees-you @alto-march-of-death @newfriendjen @shrimpypenis​ @tenyafacesquish​ @mkkhaikyuu​

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[bad-bitch-beauchamp]

Songs About Me - Chapter Three

After karaoke night and Claire's impromptu performance, both Claire and Jamie spend the next day reconciling with their choices from the night before.

Read on AO3

“Stay, Sassenach! One more drink!” 

“One more drink might be the death of me, Mr. Fraser, and if you’d like to watch me embarrass myself again next week, I can’t be on my deathbed tonight!” 

He had tried to convince her to let him walk her home, but she waved him off and pulled the sweater that had fallen off her shoulder back up to its rightful place at the junction of neck and shoulder -- a place Jamie couldn’t tear himself away from until that moment. She wrangled a loose curl behind her ear, tugged on her coat, and caught Jamie watching her every move, drink at his lips, eyes just over the rim of the glass. She could’ve stayed, could’ve responded, could’ve reacted to what she was feeling right then… no. A couple of hours together in a bar and a poor excuse for a solo at closing time did not change the fact she didn’t know this man. This very handsome man, she reminded herself. No. You came out here for yourself. Leave by yourself.

She met his eyes one last time, gave a nervous laugh, declared “Hope to see you next weekend!” all too loudly, and spun on her heel. She had stepped over the threshold when she thought she heard her name from inside, but she didn’t turn to find out. 

———

Claire realized exactly three things when she awoke the next morning: The sun was shining too brightly, the street musician playing on the corner directly below her bedroom window was playing too loudly, and the memories of the last night with the redhead who loved music and books were coming on too fast. Somehow, in the span of a few hours, he had literally become her waking thoughts. She sat up in bed, still cocooned in a cloud of white cotton sheets and linen comforters. What do you even know about him? Probably not even anything. She pulled herself from the warmth of the bed, her feet landing on a soft oriental rug in shades of blues and greens. His eyes were the colors in this rug. Just like the ocean itself. Okay, she remembered one thing about him. The woven textile gave way to worn hardwood floors, on to cool hexagon tiles lining her bathroom floor as she passed through glass french doors between bookshelves on the wall. 

When Claire inherited her Uncle Lamb’s brownstone, she could remember only one thing about the place from her visits: the upstairs was magical. Quentin Lambert Beauchamp was an archaeologist, and although it rarely happened, he had decided he needed a home base to work from. In the historic brownstone, he neglected to update much besides the upper level. As the brownstone was on a corner lot, Lamb declared it must have every window possible to let in the light. Days were too gloomy and cloudy in England, and he would soak up all the light he could while teaching here at Harvard, thank you very much. The most magical room in the entire home (according to both Beauchamps) was lined from front to back with alternating windows and storage -- wide bookshelves on the top, long cabinets on the bottom. The opposite side was almost entirely made of the same bookshelves, save for two sets of french doors leading to a large closet and a larger master bathroom, respectively. The bookshelves traveled up to a curved ceiling, rails and ladders lined the walls to reach the highest and most precious of his belongs (now hers as well). Claire had painted the walls and trim shades of white and cream and ivory. The shelves were stripped and stained with a neutral-tone light wood with white filler. The brass fixtures and ladder rails sparkled in the warm morning light. Claire placed plants wherever she could fit them, and donned the shelves with memories to mingle with the ones Lamb left behind. This room, this place, was her favorite in the whole world. 

Back in the bathroom and walking to the walk-in shower, Claire bent down to reach the sweater she tossed aside the night before. The underside of his hair is this color. Right at the base of his neck, with the extra curls. She shook her head and started the tap. Maybe all his curls would turn that color when he got wet. She turned the faucet as hot as she could stand it, reached an arm for her phone, and set Spotify to only play Blink-182. We’re done with those feelings! No feelings, only the angst possible with punk rock! 

Cold tile brought her down to earth again when she stepped out of the shower, the trails of water dripping down her back and breasts a refreshing break from the onslaught of pounding heat. He felt like a breath of fresh air. Just like this. 

With a towel wrapped around head and a t-shirt tossed on, she made her way back to the bedroom and took a seat on her bed. She desperately wished she had stayed for that last drink. Or at least got his number? Why didn’t I get his number?! Now, she’d have to wait another six days before seeing him again. Maybe her attraction to him was nothing more than lust, but if she could text with him, get to know him better, maybe she could find out. With no way of reaching him, she opted to get dressed and head out to clear her head. Maybe find a place to write? Since her decision to put herself first, she’d put letting off steam by writing and singing. It fell in live with the general creativity that fueled her life, while still being different enough from the greenhouse to give her a bit of rest and peace. As she contemplated where to adventure off that morning and pondered the correct way to lace her Doc Marten boots, her phone rang. A photo of three fresh faces graced her screen, a woman with wild dark curls with her mouth gaping with laughter, another woman with a waterfall of red hair and piercing green eyes made less intimidating by the crinkles at the edges, and a man with deep dimples surrounding his smile and an eyebrow raised in surprise at the camera taking their picture. Claire hit the accept button on the call, and thus the inquisition arrived. 

“We need to talk about last night!” The screen was split in two, with Geillis’ video on top and Joe’s on the bottom with Claire’s in the corner. 

“What about last night? I honestly thought our song was pretty good! I was thinking next week we could do--”

“That’s obviously not what we’re talking about, LJ! But agreed, we did a damn good job.”

“Will you two quit it?” Geillis cut them off and brought her face closer to her screen. “We need to talk about Claire, that viking, and the unreal chemistry. Spill it ALL, Claire.”

———

Jamie had woke nursing a headache, but alas, today would not be the day for rest. He flipped the sign in the window of Fraser Literature from closed to open, and began to check off the list of opening duties. On the list was to water the plants. Set on a table in a small alcove, on top of side table next to an worn leather chair for patrons to sit and peruse a story in, hanging from simple planters in the window that stretched from edge to edge in front of the shop, guarding the aisles of books ready to be enjoyed by people who hadn’t read them yet. Jamie often visited a greenhouse just outside town for the shop’s plants. While a small place, it was teeming with love, peacefulness, and a sense of adventure with green as far as the eye could see, boarding the windows with giant leaves and trailing vines. The feeling inside was something he wanted to emulate in his own place, and so he started adding a wee bit of flora here and there. Rupert and Angus initially laughed off his efforts, claiming Jamie was “destroying the manly vibe” they were aiming for. With every bit of decoration, every little bit of effort however, the shop grew in reputation and success. Jamie was immensely proud of the shop he built, and even more grateful he was able to spend his days surrounded by the words of great men and women, constantly inspired and in awe of the endless stories at his fingertips. 

The boys -- Angus and Rupert, that is -- had brought up the idea of expanding into a few other fine art ideas within the shop. Jamie had been reluctant to agree to anything that wasn’t directly related to literature. As they stood around the front counter, Rupert led the charge: 

“Jamie, man. The people who like books are also the ones who like art and music and such. Why not try to bring them all together?” 

“What if they don’t care about the books? What if they don’t even look at them, and don’t care? What’s the point in having the shop, then?”

It was Angus’ turn to reply with, “Well the point is getting people in the door, and letting your “wee shop” as ye always call it speak for itself, aye?” 

Jamie had to agree with that point. He settled for telling the lads that if they could come up with a suitable idea, he’d agree to it. Twenty minutes later, Angus and Rupert stood in his office doorway saying they would be asking for local musicians to come and perform. 

“Doesn’t seem like yer asking for approval.” 

Jamie didn’t look up from his computer, but could hear the grin in Rupert’s voice as he replied, “‘Tis because ye know it’s a good idea, and ye wouldn’t refuse a good idea.” 

Jamie sat back in the rolling leather chair behind his antique desk and sighed, then laughed. “Why do I even try to control what ye two do? Yer jes’ going to do it anyway.” The lads grinned at each other and shrugged. “Go on then, see if ye can have some posters made up to put in the window.” 

He stood as Rupert saluted him and Angus muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, “Aye aye, captain,” and stretched his long, lean, muscles. He needed to get a few errands completed, so opted to spend the next few hours outside both to complete his tasks and to get out in the fresh air. He told his friends he’d be back soon, and to let them know if he needed anything. 

With one step out into the sunlight, he immediately regretted the amount he had drunk the night before. Two in the morning was not a suitable time to be out, but for the lass with the dark curls and the whisky eyes, he’d give every moment of his time. From the moment he woke, he thought of her. Thought of how she made him laugh. Thought of how bonny she felt under his fingers, her hips on the barstool as she wiggled back into place, her thigh touching his under the booth table. He thought of how she’d gone up on stage as an act of defiance against him for the insult to her friend’s song, but how instead she ended up showing a piece of her soul to him, and him alone. He thought of how her eyes matched the swirling liquid in his glass. He thought of her abrupt departure after he had asked her to stay, and how he almost ran out after. He thought of how he was so incredibly stupid as to not have asked for her number before she ran. Look what ye did -- now ye have to wait to see her, and yer barely functional as it is. While Angus and Rupert had been gauging his interest for the musical talent in his office earlier, he had been searching the Facebook page for the 21st Amendment, combing it for references to her. To Claire. Maybe she had performed there? Perhaps she and her friends had tagged the place in one of their pictures? There was no sign of her, and she hadn’t told him her last name. Six days to go, mate. Ye can do this. She’s just a lass. Ye don’t know her. 

After a few hours of tedious tasks (could the post office ever be efficient, just this once?), he made his way back to Fraser Literature. It was a warm day for autumn, and the shop would have a cart with discount books out on the sidewalk and the door propped open for fresh air. He would never tire of seeing his name on something he built, something he was so proud of. As he neared the shop however, it wasn’t the name on the window that drew his attention -- it was the many people standing inside, facing the window, looking outside. Jamie stopped and looked around, but not finding anything out of place around him. He took a few steps closer. They weren’t looking outside, but rather at the inside corner of the shop, the corner where the window meets the wall. He was only a few steps away when he saw it, when he heard it. A woman with bouncy curls and a round arse, sitting with her back to the window at a keyboard bench. He didn’t have to see her face to know. Her voice was enough. It was enough at two in the morning to imprint on him forever. 

She was there, in his shop. His place. Claire. God, his Claire. 

With one shaky step and an attempt at a steadying breath, he moved inside his sanctuary.

[your-local-vamp]

I disappeared off of the face of the earth for a while, but I’m back ya’ll!! I need to get used to the whole writing and then posting it thing haha. Anyway! I’ve had this idea for a really long time, but was very much procrastinating on writing it. Whoops. But here it is! It’s honestly mostly focused on the whole conflict within the vampire’s mind. I like to show different sides of them. My last one was straight up a stalker, but this one is a liiiiiiitle different, you’ll see :)! I need to shut up before I spoil the entire thing out of excitement lol. Oh and also! I finally took it upon myself to research how I can write better, make it easier to read and stuff. So if there are some errors or if anyone has advice for me, please do leave a comment! Also also, I have a habit to listen to badass vibe songs while writing/reading, so if you’re interested in some recommendations, hit me up! Okay that’s really it. Have fun reading!

Again, this story contains some explicit themes (blood, character death, overall just being angsty af) so make sure to check the tags before reading!

—————

Running From Death

I once again find myself drinking in the bar located a few blocks from my apartment. That intoxicated feeling I get after a few glasses is amazing to me. It’s pleasant to feel good for a change.

Being here also allows me to converse with the humans. Which is… Interesting to say the least. Their different personalities, lifestyles, stories. I happen to eavesdrop into conversations from time to time, which results in me hearing the most outrageous stories sometimes. May they be true or not, they interest me.

I try not to attract too much attention to myself, but I fail in doing so most of the time. Blame it on my charismatic vampire looks, I guess. Humans often strike conversations with me, but I’m not one to complain. I like talking to them when I get the opportunity.

The bell attached to the front door rings. A woman enters the bar. “Oh god, it’s her again,” someone in one of the booths behind me sighs. Hmm, must be a regular. I come here embarrassingly often, enough to call myself a regular as well, but I haven’t seen her before. She’s very handsome looking.

My hand covered with a leather glove tightens around the whiskey glass.

“Control yourself, please. You’ve practiced this many times before.”

It repeats in my head over and over again. Unfortunate things usually happen when I’m drunk. It saddens me, because I wish to not hurt anyone. I was a human once too. And I want to remember the memories from back then. Try to do ‘human’ things. But it’s hard, especially with-

“Hey, how are ya doing?” A voice interrupts my intrusive thoughts.

I look up and see the handsome woman sitting on a stool next to me. Her voice is lively and confident. But it’s probably just the liquor talking.

“Just thinking.”

“Abouuuuut?”

Oh god. She’s totally wasted. I now notice that she can barely even sit up straight without falling over. I can’t help but smile at her actions though, it’s almost endearing in a way.

“Just contemplating life, really.”

“I came here to do the exact same thing!” the woman says.

“How so?” I ask, now completely interested in her story.

“Ugh, where do I even start? My shitty boss fired me today. And you know what the most fucked up part about it all is? The fact that I’ve been working there for years! I did so much for his company, but he decides to just fire me, because ‘he’s gotta cut some people down’. So, I came here to drink my sorrows away. Well, I may have already visited two other bars, so I’m kinda far gone already haha.” The woman keeps on rambling, without actually making eye contact with whom she’s talking to. But I happen to listen to every single word.

“Why did he have to cut people off?” I question the woman.

“Pfshh, I don’t even know. Not enough money, I guess. He could’ve fired literally anyone else, but-“ she interrupts her own sentence, while her eyes make contact with the bartender, “-Hey! Can I have uhhhh. Whatever he has?” she finishes, while she absentmindedly points at my own drink.

She seems to have forgotten what she was talking about before, she’s just staring at the bartender until her drink is ready.

“And what’s your excuse for being here?” she asks, while taking a sip of her whiskey.

“Just taking a break from drinking blood and killing people.”

Well, that’s what I should’ve said if I really wanted to be honest. But being honest isn’t my reality. Lying has become my forte over the many years I have been a vampire. I don’t exist in the eyes of humans. And it should stay that way.

“Just taking a break from life.”

Yeah, that should do it.

“I come over here to share my entire life story, and all you’ve got for me is that? Damn.”

Or not.

“My life is really not that interesting,” I quickly add, trying not to blow my cover.

She takes an observing look at me. I have never felt so uncomfortable in my entire existence. She gives me the feeling like she can look right through my lies. “Hahaha, I’m just messin’ with ya. I don’t like to pry into people’s lives like that anyway,” the woman smiles.

Phew, I barely got away with that one. I return a signature smile to her. The one that makes everyone all the more invested in me, it seems.

*a few hours later*

The handsome stranger and I have been talking for hours. I lost track of time a while ago. Talking, or rather listening to her, reminds me of my human days. I used to help my elder neighbors with chores around the house, but ended up listening to them for hours and hours. I knew that when I had finished the chores, there would be a nice hot cup of tea and cookies waiting for me. The elder couple loved to share their stories with me. I know now that most of them were of pure fantasy, but at that time they were something I would so eagerly wait for to hear.

This woman gives me that feeling of nostalgia. The excitement of finally hearing the story I have longed for. It’s odd, since I have only met her a few hours ago. But somehow I feel like I’ve known her for a really long time.

“Nghn, my head hurts…” She snaps me out of my thoughts. “Woah there, don’t fall off that stool now,” I say, while carefully taking a step towards her. “C-Can you take me home?”

I look at her with disbelief.

Did she really just ask me to walk her home?

“U-Uh, I can call a cab for you? Or ask one of your friends to come pick you up maybe? I’m sure that-“

“Please.”

She looks at me with eager eyes. Her intention is really for me to take her home. If only she knew what I really am. I sigh. “Let me go to the toilet first, then I’ll walk you home.” I finally surrender to the human.

The entire way to the toilet I ask myself what I’m getting myself into. I shouldn’t be doing this, I know that all too well. But I can’t just keep hiding my true feelings all the time. I want to live amongst humans. I know that we can coexist. As long as I control myself, everything will be fine.

I sigh, take my gloves off and use the toilet. My head is suddenly throbbing like hell. I can feel that my body is trying to fight the urge to kill every single soul in this bar. Everything spins.

Shit.

“Hey, you ready or not? I feel like puking!” I hear the woman urgently knocking on the door. “Y-Yeah, I’ll be out in a sec!” I shout back.

I quickly finish and go back to the bar. “Let’s go,” we hurriedly exit the bar. She does so, because she needs to get home asap. And I do so, because of obvious reasons.

I can feel that I’m starting to lose control. It was a mistake drinking this much. I’m usually okay with drinking a few glasses, but this woman has a certain effect on me. And it’s not a positive one. Not while I’m drunk, at least.

The woman is currently walking behind me, laughing at her own jokes. All I want right now is to drop her off as fast as I can.

“Ah, shit!” I hear a loud thud.

I look back and see that she is now sitting on the cold concrete.

“What happened?” I ask, clearly concerned.

The woman shakes her head. “I’m so clumsy, I literally just stumbled over my own feet haha.”

God, we’re never going to get anywhere like this. “Oh nooo! My new pants! Ugh, this stuff always happens to me.”

I take a quick look at her leg and notice that the fabric is ripped open. She took a great fall apparently, otherwise that wouldn’t have happened.

“Damn, I’m bleeding too.”

That’s all she had to say to make my eyes turn red and making my fangs expose themselves. I quickly turn around, hoping that she didn’t notice my weird behavior already.

“Are you okay…?” she asks, proving my thoughts wrong. I disregard her question and return it with my own.

“Is it bad?”

I don’t know why I’m asking her that. No matter of how bad it is, the mere smell of her blood is driving me insane. All I can think about is that right at this moment.

“Uhm, no I think that I’m okay.” I can hear that she’s getting up and has started to walk towards me.

“Please, don’t come any closer.” I say this with a serious tone, hoping that she’d cease to move instantly.

“What’s wrong? It’s not even that bad.”

Fuck fuck fuck.

I can’t hold the urge back anymore. I never want to hurt humans, but I also can’t forget of who I have become. I’m a vampire. To stay alive, I need blood. Alcohol has terrible effects on me.

It’s like drinking water with salt in it. You’re drinking, but it worsens your thirst because of the salt. Alcohol only enhances my thirst for blood. I’m learning the consequences of that now.

The woman has come even closer to me. I turn around, only to see a reached out hand with blood on it. I try to fight the dark side of me with everything I have. That side of me gives in, eventually. I resist the urge and grab her wrist, only to warn her to stop.

However, this action suffers a great consequence. The woman looks at me. The white of her eyes turn dark red.

Wait… I look at my hand, having a firm hold on her wrist.

“My gloves!” is all I can utter at this moment.

I have forgotten my gloves in the toilet area. How can I be so stupid… I’m unable to touch any living being with my bare hands. If I do so, it dies. Everything I touch turns into dust. It’s a curse I have carried with me ever since I turned. It has barely posed as a problem the last few years. But I… I touched her without gloves on.

“W-Wait. No. I’m sorry, please!” I beg for my actions to reverse themselves. But what happened cannot be undone.

The woman’s eyebrows furrow and her eyes look back into mine, filled with betrayal. “H-How cou-ld y-ou,” she chokes on her own blood. She is in immense pain, I can tell. I let go of her hand, terrible guilt now washing over me.

She takes a look at her shaking hand, which gets covered with popping veins inch by inch. The sounds coming from her are agonizing. She stumbles backwards, now nearing her end. Tears roll down my cheek, as I carry her.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know my gloves were…” I’m unable to finish my sentence, as my non beating heart breaks seeing her mouth all covered in blood clots.

It’s ironic, really. I was barely able to resist the smell of her blood before, but now even though I’m covered with it, I don’t seem to mind.

Her body shivers uncontrollably, until it stops moving at all. I hold her limp body, watching my tears fall on her veiny cheek.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” I keep repeating it, somewhere having a wishful thought that I could go back before all of this happened.

But her body stays unmoving. I scream and I scream, all of my human feelings washing over me now. This shouldn’t have happened. My ignorance allowed this to take place. And I will never forgive myself for it.

I hear sounds of a crowd nearing by. In total panic, I let go of her body and hide in a nearby alleyway. I crouch and hold my hands over my own ears, trying to ignore the screams that are coming from the spot where I just killed a human. The tears are now streaming down, my thoughts racing. What have I done? I should’ve never went to that bar in the first place.

Fuck, I need to get out of here before they find me. I try to leave the guilt there and run from myself as fast as I can. I am a monster. And no matter how hard I cling on to the little humanity I’ve got left, I will always remain one.

[1-800-hellraiser]

Underfell!Sans x Female!Reader

Hello! I'm back with an Underfell Sans oneshot! I'm an absolute S I M P for this man. Anyways, PLEASE READ THE DISCLAIMER BEFORE THE ONESHOT!!! Underfell is NOT my Au, it belongs to @VictheUnderfella. Undertale is made by Toby Fox, Sans and Underfell!Sans aren't my characters! The reader will use She/Her pronouns (sorry dudes and nb pals). Have fun reading :)

❗DISCLAIMER❗

This oneshot contains mentions of verbal and physical abuse, mentions of the aftermath of abuse, smoking, and swearing! If you are triggered by/ uncomfortable with reading about these topics, I suggest you don't read this oneshot. If you're not triggered by/ uncomfortable with reading about these topics, you can proceed forwards. 

     I also made a reader insert, your character is not a human. The character can be found here. I will write this in a way where it includes everyone, I just made the ref sheet so I can at least have something to go off of in terms of outfit/makeup/species of monster.

I Wanna Be Yours

Word count: 3,936

Song: I Wanna Be Yours - Arctic Monkeys

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"Secrets I have held in my heart are harder to hide than I thought. Maybe I just wanna be yours. I wanna be yours."

      Flick. Your lighter lights with a simple motion of your thumb. You hold the lit cigarette to your dark colored lips and take a puff. You developed the nasty habit of smoking when you first became a part of the Royal Guard. Being a Guardswomen is tough, considering you actually had a kid fall down into the underground a day ago. You never thought it would happen to be honest, maybe you can finally get out of this hell hole and away from the insufferable assholes that inhabit it. Except for Sans. Sans has been your only escape, your safe haven. You met him through his brother, Papyrus. When you first became a Royal Guardswomen, you met Papyrus and Sans. After having a somewhat awkward conversation with the smaller skeleton, you both hit it off instantly. You two actually share a sentry station near the Ruins.

      Both of you share puns and stories with one another. Stories about the good, the bad, and sometimes, the ugly. Sans isn't the most trusting person. It took you a while for him to open up to you about his past. About a year and a half to be exact. Once he told you a bit about his past, you felt so bad for him. Even though he doesn't want pity, you can't help but feel bad. His brother is a very verbally and physically abusive person, especially when things don't go his way. Papyrus usually takes his anger out on someone, and that someone is usually Sans. You want to take him away from this situation. You want him to live an abuse-free life. You want him to be happy. As soon as you leave the underground, you want to take him away with you, if he lets you, of course. But for now, you just have to be there for him when he needs you to be. 

      "Ay Y/n, you okay?" Sans says, waving his skeletal hand in front of your face. "Uh, yeah, I'm good, I just kinda zoned out." You mumble, taking another drag of your cigarette. Sans looks at you skeptically before returning back to what he was doing. Suddenly Sans turns to you "Ya wanna go to Grillby's?" He asks. "Yeah, I got nothin' else to do." You respond. He takes your hand and teleports into the small diner. You two take a seat at your usual spot at the bar. "I'll take my usual," Sans says to Grillby, you order your f/f. You and Sans just chill and talk while enjoying your meals. After cackling at Sans' story of Papyrus somehow getting his head stuck in a bucket, he goes quiet. You ask him what's wrong. "Can I ask you somethin' Bud?" He asks. "Shoot at me." You reply. "What would you do if you lost the person you love most?" He questions, you're a bit stunned at the serious question. 

     "I think I'd go crazy. I don't think I could live without the person I love most. Why do you ask?" You question the edgy-looking skeleton. "No reason, I'm just curious 's all." He says, shrugging. You nodd skeptically, you knew he was going to say something else, but then decided against it.  After your meal, you realize it's actually pretty late. About six pm, to be exact, both of your sentry shifts ended two hours ago. "Shit! I gotta go, Papyrus is going to crucify me if I'm not back by six. Same time tomorrow, Dollface?" You chuckle, "Same time everyday, Sans," You retort. "I wish he meant to call me Dollface." Wow, that thought came out of nowhere. A blush spreads across your p/f/c (pastel favorite color) cheeks. You and Sans always call each other pet names, platonically, of course. Sighing, you begin walking to your apartment. There was a small apartment complex behind Grillby's that you live in. You used to live in Waterfall, but moved to Snowdin once you got paired with Sans to your sentry station. Even though sentry can change in an instant, you and Sans mostly stay in Snowdin. 

       Arriving at your apartment, you fish your keys out of your pants pocket. You open the door and sigh a sigh of content. After chucking off your boots near the door, you trudge to your bedroom and change into a pair of black sweatpants and a baggy blue shirt that says "Big Dick Is Back In Town" on it in Times New Roman font. You turn out the lights and collapse on your bed. Within seconds, you're fast asleep. At seven thirty am your alarm rings in your ear. You proceed with your morning routine, you shower, do your hair, put on some makeup, and get dressed. When you go to get dressed, you realise something. "Fuck I forgot to wash my work clothes yesterday!" You groan. You literally have four of the same pairs of pants and shirts you wear for work. You sigh exasperatedly, you have to wear the same ones you did yesterday again. Grabbing your phone, you set a reminder to wash your work clothes tonight at six thirty.

      After that, you put on your boots and leave your apartment. Taking a few shortcuts, you arrive at your shared sentry station, cigarette in between your clawed fingers. You sigh, Sans isn't even at the station yet. Anxiously, you wait at the station. About ten minutes later, Sans finally appears at the station, panting and shaking. "Are you okay?" You ask, concerned. "Does it look like I'm fuckin' okay to ya'?" He snaps back. Shocked, you stay silent. You know he doesn't mean to snap at you when he's mad, it's best to give him some space for a bit. You excuse yourself from the station, saying you forgot your phone at your apartment. "Make it quick, I don't want Papyrus to catch you." He says, your breath hitches. Oh, so that's what happened this morning. "I'll be careful, I promise." You reassure, taking a shortcut through the woods to Grillby's. You go in, and order Sans' usual and your f/f to go. As soon as you get the food you leave for the station again. You pop out the same way you entered, right behind the station.

     "I'm back." You announce, setting the plastic bag containing food in the front of the sentry station. "Where'd that come from?!" "Uh...Grillby's?" You say, "No-I mean-" sans sighs "I thought you had to go grab your phone from your apartment." He says, you chuckle. "Yeah, I lied. I thought you needed a little pick-me-up, considering the way you came to the station this morning." You explain, tail swishing a bit behind you at the uncomfortable subject. "Oh, well, thank you. I appreciate it, Doll." He says in a sincere manner. You love when he's soft with you when no one is around. In the Underground, it's considered "weak" to show genuine emotion outside of your home. You wish it wasn't like that, but sadly, this is the reality you have to live in for now. For now, you can only be there for Sans when he needs to show his emotions. He can't even show emotions in his own home, Papyrus will be a dick and judge him for it. It's not fair at all. 

       "Ya alright, Y/n?" Sans asks, pulling out of your thoughts. "Hm? Oh yeah." You respond, now realising how angry you must look. "Yeah, you looked pissed. Is somethin' up?" He asks, you sigh. You knew you'd have to bring this up eventually. "I'm just, so angry at your brother." "Why?" You look down at Sans. "Sans, he treats you like utter garbage! Why do you keep going back to him?" You sigh out exasperatedly. "Because I care about him, even if he doesn't care about me." He says sadly. Your e/c eyes widen. You get it now. He's the only one he has left that's his family. "Sans, I'm sorry. I know Papyrus is your brother, I'm just worried. All the scars he leaves you with. What if he damages you permanently?" You explain, biting on your black claw. Another habit you obtained from joining the Royal Guard. You look at Sans for an answer, you see a gentle red blush spread across his face. "I appreciate you caring Bud, I really do. But I can handle it myself." He says, looking you in the eyes. His red pinpricks aligning with your e/c irises. You sigh and avert your gaze down.

     "Okay, if you say so. But if anything ever happens, call me, I'll let you stay with me, okay?" You say, giving Sans your number, witten down on a tiny slip of paper. He says he will. The rest of the day goes off without a hitch. You and Sans finish your shift (on time this time) and part ways until tomorrow. You almost kick your boots off at the door before your phone starts going off. You quickly pull it out of your pants pocket, you sigh in relief. It's just the alarm you set for your laundry. You take your bin full of laundry to the basement of the complex and throw your clothes in one of the cleaner looking machines. As you put your laundry bin down next to the washer, your phone starts to go off. You check and Sans is trying to call you. You immediately answer the call. "Hey dude, what's up?" You say into the speaker. "Y-y/n, could I come over?" You hear his raspy, pained voice through the receiver.

      "Yes, of course! Do you need any help? You sound hurt?" You say panicked. "No Dollface, I got it." He says, you do not accept that. "Too bad. I'm coming over anyway." Before he could protest, you hang up the phone and speed out of your apartment complex. Thankfully, Sans' house isn't that far. After a short, speedwalk, you're staring down his front door. You rasp on the wooden door, waiting for a response. You were going to knock again, Sans opens the door, you let out a small gasp. Sans looks terrible, he was covered in his own blood. "Come on, you're staying with me tonight," you say, taking his boney hand. As soon as you start walking, you notice he also has a limp. If Papyrus were some random ass monster and not Sans' brother, you'd be covered in dust by now. You have a very motherly instinct, but only for Sans. You've never felt this way about somebody else before, you have no idea why either. 

       Once you and Sans reach your apartment, you bring him to your bathroom and seat him on the toilet (lid closed, of course). Grabbing your medical kit and some alcohol, you return to the bathroom and sit on the edge of your tub. "Could you take your sweater off? It'll be easier to clean your wounds." You ask, Sans slowly takes off his crimson red sweater. Suddenly, your bathroom gets really warm. You gasp at Sans' three cracked ribs, a bunch of cuts all over the others. You look up at him with concern written across your p/f/c face. "I don't want to talk about it right now." Sans mumbles, looking down. You take Sans' cheek bones in your hands, you tilt his head up to look at you. "That's okay, I'm just worried about you. You really don't deserve this Sans." You say, pulling your hands away from his face. You pour some alcohol on the washcloth and press it to one of the cuts on his ribs. He curses under his breath as you continue to clean him up. You'll have to call Alphys later about Sans' ribs, see what she can do about them. 

      "Alright Sans, just chill on my couch for right now. Uh, I gotta go real quick, I'll be right back," you say awkwardly, he gives you a thumbs up. Unlocking your door, you head down to switch your laundry. Once you come back up, you notice Sans wasn't sitting on the couch anymore. You panic and begin looking around your apartment, you stop in the entrance of your tiny kitchen, Sans was making something. "Sans, what are you doing?" You ask, he jumps a bit, then winces. "I'm making us dinner?" Sans says, the room starts to get warm again. "Sans, you don't have to do that. You should sit down and relax." You encourage, he shakes his head at your proposition. "Nah Dollface, this is the least I can do for you." He says, continuing to cook a mysterious food. You come up behind Sans, "Sans please, I appreciate the gesture, but you have three broken ribs, you need to sit down and chill out." Sans sighs "Fineeeeeee." He whines, you chuckle at him. "What were you gonna make anyway?" "Nothin much, just some Spaghetti and meatballs." "Okay, gotcha." You say, taking over the kitchen to make dinner. 

      Wiping your forehead of sweat, you finished cooking dinner. You walk into the living room, and set his and your plate on the coffee table in front of the couch. You sit next to him and start eating. "Holy fuck Doll, this shit's amazing!" Sans exclaims, shoving more pasta into his mouth. You chuckle and thank him, as you keep eating. After you both are finished eating you run down to the basement one more time to grab your laundry and return to your apartment. On your way. Back to tour apartment however, you notice that Sans has been calling you 'Doll' and 'Dollface' a lot more than he used to. You shrug it off as him being thankful for your hospitality. You return to your apartment for the last time with your laundry basket in your hands. "I'll be right back, I just gotta put away my laundry." You say, Sans looks over the back of the couch at you and gives you a nod of understanding. You quickly fold your clothes so Sans doesn't have to wait awkwardly on your couch. As soon as you're done, you put the basket in your closet and leave. When you return to your living room, you discover Sans asleep on the couch.

      A small smile forms on your face as you go get him a blanket. After that, you change into a red tye-dye pair of sweatpants and a tank top. Soon after you lay down, you drift into a deep slumber. A few hours later, you are ripped from your sleep by a scream. You pull off your blanket and run to the living room. "Sans?!" You say worriedly and panicked. You see him tossing and turning on the couch, he's having a nightmare. Sans has told you about these haunting nightmares before, it usually happens after a bad day with Papyrus. Not really knowing how to deal with this situation, you sit on the edge of the couch and try to reach for him. As soon as your hand makes contact with his shoulder, he pulls away and curls up into a tiny ball. "Sans, it's just me." You say gently, scooting a bit closer to his trembling and sobbing form. You try to comfort him again, and he doesn't pull away this time. You pull him a bit closer to you. He rests his head on your chest and clenches his arms around you. You massage his skull with your fingertips and whisper sweet nothings to him. 

       After a while of comforting him, he falls asleep again. So you lay on the couch, Sans' head resting on top of you, blanket draped over your two sleeping bodies. After a few minutes, you fall back to sleep. You awake to one of Mettaton's shows. You were never interested in the performer robot that much, but this episode was a (what looks to be) a well made CGI human defusing a bunch of bombs. After a while, you forget about Sans laying on your chest, until he wakes up and jumps off of you like a startled cat. "Jesus! Just scare the shit outta me why don't ya?" You say, sarcasm lacing your tone. "Ah, sorry 'bout that Doll." "You're fine Sans." You chuckle. Looking up at Sans, you notice a light red blush across his cheekbones. Your heart skips a beat as you look at him, then you get up not wanting to make this any more awkward than it already is. Opening the fridge, you look for something to eat. You have eggs, bacon, and pancake mix in one of your cupboards, you take out all the ingredients you need for breakfast and start cooking. Sans insists on helping, but you tell him he needs to to relax because of his broken ribs.

      After a half hour, breakfast is completely done. You fix you and Sans a plate and bring it to the couch. Sans looks very fixated on Mettaton's show. This was a rerun of a previous show. You set the breakfast down in front him, he immediately begins choking down food. "Holy shit Sans! Slow down your going to choke." You scold. "But we're gonna be late to work if we don't." He explains, scarfing down his meal. You give him a confused look. "Work? We're not going to work today, we have to call Alphys over to see what she can do about your ribs." You say, you can feel Sans look at you like you had just told him you had a death wish. "I can't, Papyrus would freak out-" "Papyrus can suck my dick!" You cut him off out of anger. "Your health is WAY more important to me than what Papyrus might do." You snap, Sans sits in shock. You've never snapped at him like that before. Looking at his face, you realise what you just did. "Sans I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you like that, I just got to frustrated." You explain, Sans' face softens at your words. "Nah it's okay, I completely understand where you're coming from." Sans sighs, and rubs the back of his neck anxiously.

      To defuse the thick tension, you tell Sans you have to call Alphys and you'll be back shortly. You shuffle awkwardly to your room to make the call. Pressing the contact "Weeb Lord'' with a picture you took off of Alphys' social media (it's a picture of a trash can with several red sparkly filters over it) and press the call button. "Yo Alphys" "What is it Y/n?" She says annoyedly. "So, I need you to come over to look at Sans' ribs." You say, "What? Why?" "Papyrus and him got into it yesterday and he's staying with me for a while." You explain, Alphys makes a noise of understanding from the receiver. "Alright, I'll be over in 10." She says, you can hear her shuffling around. "'Ight see you when you get here." You end, hanging up the phone, not really wanting to go back out and just awkwardly sit with Sans, you decide to have a smoke. Grabbing you cigarettes and lighter, you begin to head out of your apartment. "Where are ya going?" Sans asks, still staring at the T.v. "I'm just going to have a smoke, I'll be back soon." You reassure yourself as you leave the apartment. Maybe taking a smoke wasn't such a good idea. It's cold as balls outside, you shiver as you take drags of your cigarette. 

     After you're done, you are about to go inside, but a certain nerdy lizard shows up. She follows you up to your apartment and in through the front door. "Ay look what the cat dragged in." Sans teases, Alphys glares at him. "Nah I'm just joking with ya, how've you been?" "Okay, yourself?" She asks back, Sans shrugs. "Eh, could be better." "Yeah, I heard. Would you mind taking your sweater off for me?" She asks, he reluctantly takes off his sweater again. Alphys studies the three cracked ribs for a second. "Hmmm. I think the best I can do for you is to wrap you up. Other than that, there's nothing I can do." She explains, beginning to wrap Sans' ribs. "You'll have to not go to work for a few days, take it easy. No lifting, no fast movements, nothing." She drones on. "Your best option is to stay with Y/n for now so they can help you heal properly." She states, finishing up wrapping Sans' ribs.

      You let out a relieved breath you didn't even know you were holding. You had hoped that Alphys would tell him to stay with you, Papyrus would probably just hurt him more in all honesty. "I'm going to give you some morphine to help ease the pain a bit." She says, handing Sans an orange pill bottle. "Take two when you wake up, and when you go to bed, if you notice the pain going away, then only take one per day." She explains. You and Sans both nod. "Thank you, Dr. Alphys." you say, Alphys nods. She takes her tote bag full of medical equipment, bids you and Sans goodbye, then leaves. You sigh, and sit next to Sans on the couch. You begin to think, why do you feel so nervous around him all of a sudden. Your heart skips a beat whenever he calls you "Doll" or "Dollface", his laugh gives you butterflies, you want him to talk to you forever, just listening to his New York accent makes you want to kiss him. You can't take hiding your feelings from him anymore, you have an undying love for Sans. 

       "S-sans, I gotta tell you something." You stutter out, Sans turns to you. "Yeah, what is it Dollface?" He asks, your heart beats faster and faster every passing second. "I think I wanna be yours, Sans." You manage to get out. As soon as those words leave your mouth, you regret everything. "Y/n, I...I think I wanna be yours too." Sans mumbles, scooching a bit closer to you. You move closer and closer to each other until your thighs are squished together. Sans cups your cheek with his hand, you place one hand on his shoulder and the other behind him. Sans sets his other hand on your thigh, you lean in and give him a smooch on his sharp teeth. You pull away before Sans' hand moves from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you into a more passionate kiss. The passionate kiss turns into a makeout session. Both of your mouths moving in sync, tongues sliding over each other, soft moans come from both of your mouths.

       After a minute of missing, you two pull away, a string of clear and translucent red saliva connecting to your mouths. "Oh my god....that was amazing." You pant, leaning back into the couch. Sans nods his head in agreement. "I'm so glad you confessed to me, Sweetheart. I've had feelings for you since we were stationed at our sentry station together." Sans explains, your heart skips a beat at your new nickname. You blush. "I'm so glad I met you." You say, leaning your head on his shoulder. "Same here Doll." Sans responds, leaning his skull on your head. You're both finally safe and happy.

[purplesurveys]

1277

Who are you most nervous about introducing potential significant others to?  Ooooh moving forward, probably Angela hahahaha I have no idea how I’d break it to her if ever I do start seeing somebody again. She’s well aware of all the shit that I let slide so she might get intense with the scrutineering.

What is the most exciting thing about your life right now?  Just the fact that I feel on top of the world these days. My days of being depressed and picking at my insecurities seem to be far behind me and the change has looked to be apparent coming from friends who’ve told me I seem happier, louder these days.

What was the most important non-academic thing you learned in high school?  To not be scared to fight harder for the things you believe in or what make up your identity, coming from having to hide a same-sex relationship during that period. That feeling of being constricted and having to hide to stay on some conservative seniors’ good graces really pissed me off so high school was really crucial in letting me discover just how much I’d be willing to fight and test the waters to be able to live as me.

Have you ever had a job that deeply affected your personal life? How so and do you still work there?  Hmm no, not really. If anything my job is one of the things that helped make me a lot livelier and happier.

Do you have a “one who got away”?  It felt that way at the start when my view was still skewed, but it didn’t take long until I realized she was not a loss at all.

If you were in a superhero movie, would you be the hero or the villain? Hero.

If you found a mouse in your house, would you be frightened?  Mice or rats are the literal worst fucking thing I could see in my house. I definitely see myself making a big deal out of it lmao, especially rats.

Have you ever tried to perform magic tricks?  Nobody ever taught me, so no.

Can you do more with a yo-yo than just "go up and down"? Nah, which kinda makes me feel ashamed because considering it was a Filipino who invented the modern yo-yo, I feel like it should be my responsibility to know a few tricks LOL.

What is one form of technology that you wouldn't be able to live without?  Instant messenger.

Did you get an allowance, growing up? Why or why not?  Starting high school. Before that I was living in our family’s duplex, so my grandma could make packed meals for all of us – not to mention the fact that my parents were also still on their way to establishing themselves at their respective workplaces so we weren’t all that well-off yet. 

When we moved into our own place, we started with my mom making our meals but eventually it just proved to be time-consuming and a lot of work considering she also had a job to go to. With that and the fact that both my parents at that point already got a couple of promotions, we switched to allowance.

Would you rather go to a water park or an amusement park? Why?  Amusement parks though I would only probably head to the safer rides and food stalls with all the deep-fried offerings haha. I cannot handle more intense rides. On the other hand, water parks have always sounded nasty to me.

What is one instrument you wouldn't mind learning how to play?  Piano.

What's the longest amount of time you've had to wait in line for something?  The stupid LTO, because you can never count on government agencies to be efficient. Technically my whole time in there took a couple of stages, but all in all I spent eight hours there.

What is something that you would like to learn more about?  Korean. I just graduated from my Basic Korean 1 class but I already have plans to enroll in the following course, since I seemed to do well and I want to keep the momentum going.

What is something that one of your family member collects?  Mom has a large collection of chef-themed figurines and other sorts of trinkets like a chef timer, shot glasses, etc - but mostly the figurines - that she has displayed in a glass case. I should keep that in mind for when I start Christmas shopping, actually...she hasn’t updated that collection in a long time. Thanks for the idea!

Have you ever moved to a new school before? If so, how did it feel?  No, not in the middle of the same period since I went to the same school from kinder to high school for 14 years. I only “moved” when I started college. Like I’ve said in previous surveys, it felt freeing to finally not under be the hands of an environment ran by...well, Catholics. It was a culture shock to see rallies everywhere, to find out I could wear short shorts or even go to school naked if I wanted to, and to see boys in my class (I went to an all-girls), but it was all the good kind of shock.

Have you ever legitimately forgotten to do homework?  Always, because I never wrote them down.

Do you enjoy autumn leaves or spring flowers more? Why?  I experience neither season.

Depending on where you live, why might a day of school get canceled? Typhoon.

If you could meet any fictional character from a book, who would it be? Melanie Hamilton from Gone with the World.

What are some common places that people tour when they come to your city?  I rarely see foreigners here since my area isn’t particularly known for tourism; most go to the island provinces like Cebu, Aklan, Palawan, etc. If I had to recommend spots here, I’d tell them to go for Pinto and maybe the rooftop bars that offer a view of Manila’s skyline. 

What's one food that you did not enjoy as a child, but do as an adult?  Chicken curry, which I used to dread.

Would you rather have a mermaid tail, a fairy's wings or a unicorn's horn? I guess the wings just because I feel like it’s the only practical one.

What is an animal that you'd like to have as a pet but it's not allowed?  I don’t think that way about animals I can’t keep as pets anyway.

What are some things that you do to make the world a better place?  I always clean up at restaurants (my mom doesn’t understand why I do it because “the servers are here for a reason, Robyn”) but I always see the relief on their faces when they see I’ve stacked up the plates and cups so I don’t see a reason to stop doing it. I keep the door open for people who happen to enter/exit a building the same time as me, share dog adoption posts, don’t make a fuss about or towards a shop staff who messes up...things like that. I hope it’s able to help, even if just in a small way.

Has the last person you had sex with ever had sex with someone besides you?  I don’t know. I wouldn’t be surprised if she has already.

What’s your favorite store at your mall?  We have several malls within the vicinity but I like frequenting NCAT.

Have you ever done a workout DVD?  No but my mom is fond of those.

Who usually takes out the trash in your family?  Either of my parents.

What song are you currently obsessed with?  My Universe is soooooo good. It’s Coldplay’s classic sound but they somehow managed to perfectly blend in BTS’ style as well, so I love how it turned out.

When you go fishing, do you make someone else get the fish off the hook?  I've never gone fishing.

Do you take any prescription meds?  Nope.

What happens if you don’t take them?  Who was the last person you dreamt about?  My dad.

Do you prefer your tea sweetened or unsweetened?  Sweetened, though I don’t usually actively look for iced tea. I’d have it if it was served, but I don’t typically order it for myself.

How often do you honk your horn?  As long as I am annoyed, which gives my mom a mini heart attack every time because she insists I just let people have their way to avoid getting into fights. Sometimes when she’s driving and someone’s being stupid on the road I lurch forward to do the honking for her and it pisses her off soooooooooo much but it also gets the job done so *shrug*

Do you have any children? If so, names and ages? I don’t.

Have your parents ever witnessed you doing something inappropriate? What?  TMI but I almost got caught doing the m-word once but my reflexes were at lightning speed that day so when my door opened I was able to fix myself up and appear as though nothing was happening lol. My mom also saw a hickey on me once but I was able to veer the conversation away when she started inquiring.

Did you get babysat a lot as a kid?  No, I did the babysitting.

If you were the principal of a school, what would you do differently? Actually deal with teachers who mistreat or make issues towards their students. I had several teachers I know didn’t like me but I could never do anything about it because there was no way in hell the school was going to take my side.

Are you doing anything fun tomorrow?  Continued from yesterday. If I took this question yesterday to refer to today I would’ve answered yes because we actually have a really fun PR stunt scheduled for execution today, wherein we get to sponsor someone’s whole wedding from food to flowers to the host and fillm crew :D :D But tomorrow is just Monday so the real answer to this is no.

What is something you'd like to receive as a housewarming gift?  I dunno the usual housewarming gifts, but I would appreciate anything practical, or anything that you’ll need at the least expected times, like batteries or even like Sticky Tack.

How old were you when you first experienced the effects of puberty?  Oooh I was an early bird – I was 9 when I could first tell my first period was on its way; it came a month after I turned 10.

What is your least favorite holiday, and why?  I don’t dislike any holiday because they all mean a day off work lol.

What were some outdoor games you played as a child?  We usually played piko (hopscotch), our local version of freeze tag that we dubbed “Ice ice water” for whatever reason, and a garter game that we call 10-20. Dodgeball was a favorite during recess and lunch, too.

Did you accompany your parents on "Take Your Child to Work" Day? That’s not observed here, but my mom did use to take me and my siblings to her first workplace. Are cemeteries peaceful to you, or do they freak you out?  They’re actually more interesting to me than anything else. I like learning about the different lives of many different people, even if I only technically know them by their birthday and date of death. Sometimes the inscriptions would be more detailed and tell more about their life, sometimes I’d come across babies who only lived a few days...and it’s just interesting to have those glimpses into life.

Which ancient civilization would you be interested in learning more about?  Filipino, because Western colonization destroyed proof of most of it. 

Do you have better long-term memory or short-term memory?  Long.

What was the last situation that made you cry? Describe.  I cried this morning. Nothing bad or heavy, I just found myself thinking again about my mental state last year.

Which forest animal would you be most afraid to encounter?  Anything that wouldn’t hesitate to tear my limbs apart.

Do you believe in anything supernatural? (ie: spirits, etc)  No.

Has anyone close to you ever gone to war?  No. The closest link I have to the military, other than my dead great-grandfather, is Angela’s uncle who’s like a general or like a colonel or something, idk titles.

Have you ever experienced altitude sickness?  Yeah, occasionally. Pressure in the ear is a bigger nuisance to me, though.

Is there anything, any event, you wish you could remember more clearly?  The last time I saw my grandfather. My only clear memory of him that day was stepping out of the house to leave (my mom and I were visiting) and him sending me off with the message to always be kind and good. If I had known I would never see him again, I never would’ve left.

Have you ever rubbed anyone’s feet?  Hmm no, not that I can recall.

If you had to get advice from someone of the opposite sex, who would you go to?  I’d go to Hans for certain advice, but not for every single situation. He’s the only person that comes to mind.

What was the last new food/drink that you tried?  So last Wednesday I finally got to try this Instagram-based doughnut shop that I’ve been eyeing since August and it turned out to be even MUCH BETTER THAN EXPECTEDDDDDD. Like yeah their photos were always mouthwatering but I didn’t expect it to taste as good as it looks, since most pretty food I’ve encountered usually end up just tasting meh. Anywho, I got two orders of their sampler box and they served me their specialty bacon doughnut, signature brown butter, and a bunch of their chocolate and peanut butter variants and I loved every single fucking thing.

Have you had a good day today or was yesterday better?  Oh it’s hard to tell, it’s only 9:05 AM. Both days might be uneventful, though.

Have you ever played Sudoku?  I don’t actually get how to play it hahaha. I feel like I’m too stupid for sudoku.

Do you ever take surveys for money?  I tried it last year when applying for jobs was still a bitch for me, but the thing is most of those surveys look for employed participants so there was rarely ever a survey that fit me anyway.

Do you like Barbie or Bratz better?  Bratz.

Do you prefer purple or green grapes?  I don’t like grapes.

Who was the last person that made you laugh?  Idk, probs one of the boys since I was watching videos of them earlier today.

Where does your best friend live?  A nearby city.

Who did you last confide in?  Angela.

Does your car have an alarm?  Sure.

Where was your mom born?  Somewhere in Metro Manila.

What can always make you feel better no matter what?  My dogs.

What is something you’ll never eat again? Why?  I don’t think there is anything. I feel like I’m always bound to retry things and that I would be open to doing so, even fruits. One thing I’m firm about never drinking again, though, is coconut water. Get that SHIT away from me.

What is currently happening that is scaring you?  I’m not feeling scared these days.

Have you ever found a stranger’s note somewhere? If so, what did it say?  Probably. But nothing sticks out.

[kerwritesthings]

South Of The Equator

Summary: Gestures of love are woven in the fabric of relationships, especially ones built around the priority of your love

Word Count: literally juuuuust shy of 5.8k

Warning: pining, love and fluff

Author Notes: Muse fell in love with this photo last week when Bre threw it out onto my dash, spit out stupid notes at midnight that night for it along with about 350ish words and then didn’t touch it until again yesterday evening where I proceeded to crank out about 5.8k in less than 24 hours. Oops?

This falls well later into the verse, like the latest I’ve taken it thus far. It just felt right to bring this into that part of the timeline with the premise and where the muse was taking this. Can be read as a standalone but diving into the verse and the masterlist would give a little bit more understanding.

It was not in the plans. Whatsoever. A whim. A lot of longing. A lot of missing connections. A lot of feeling that this was a sync you just wouldn’t be able to get. That scares the both of you, more than either of you will let on especially to the other. You both promise that this would be the longest stretch on this very last swing – something like 48 or 50 days depending on travel for both of you, that a somewhere between 12 and 14-hour plane ride at best for a long weekend made no sense. You’re in Bucharest when he starts the swing in Mexico. What was thought to be a few days off for him to come home to see you between the last Mexico show and the venture further south becomes non-existent, with surprise pop up concerts in both Costa Rica and Panama along with hoopla surrounding them on either side that the label drops last minute. You initially think you’d be able to make the last shows, but there was a potential work trip to Hong Kong hanging over your head, so you both agree not book anything.

Well, love makes you do some stupid and irresponsibly crazy things. When the Asia client pushes their timeline back, things change completely. Which is why you find yourself on the phone, trying to make arrangements while juggling 7 open browser tabs on your laptop at nearly 1am. This is what you do for each other. It’s been established. It’s been done for each other on numerous occasions throughout your relationship. But it’s never been something like this. This grand and involved.

“Up for a bit of a challenge?” you start. “What’s the actual schedule like between Buenos and Rio and Santiago?”

“Flip it around. Chile first. Then Buenos then Sao Paulo. Finish off in Rio,” Beatriz laughs. “Don’t book the wrong flight. Cause. This is where it’s going isn’t it? This bugger is so lucky to have you. He best appreciate this. He’s been whiny. More to Cez then me. Andrew too, but he trusts Cez more when it comes to you.”

“He’s not the only one,” you sigh. “Dee’s taken to sending me videos and photos of Tali every day before I call to bitch to her to try to ease my tension. We’ve done longer, when we first got together. This one though. We’re just not taking it well, either of us. It feels off. He can’t come to me, so I have to go to him.”

“There’s doubles now in Santiago, not just in Buenos and Rio. Only the one in Sao Paulo. Days off scattered through, but definitely some between the city jumps. Are you really going to try to do just a weekend down here?” she asks.

“Work remote if I can swing it. Then bank out on some time off. I’m due after the extra hours to lock in the Danish project and the haul to Bucharest for basically a 48-hour lookie loo from them with no commitments. Boss lady is great as long as my work gets done and I don’t pull the ask for ‘but my famous boyfriend’ very often, if at all,” you explain, poking away at the keys of your laptop.

“Ooh Denmark, so you going to get out for that one?” Beatriz questions. “Do you have a lam for this tour? Should we get you another?”

“I think I can, timing looks ok and I may be able to drag Shawn with me for once since it’s after all this hoopla,” you mutter, poking at Kayak and cursing. “I think I do, snag one just in case if it’s not too much trouble. It looks like Air Canada has a direct from Pearson to Santiago at 11 hours of flight time and an overnight red-eye. Bless it. No layovers. Less chance for him to even let on. Y’all can sneak me in on the flights between yeah?”

“Shawn is gonna shit you know this right?” she laughs. “I heard about your surprises you both have pulled on each other before, but this is something else. Duh girl, yes of course. He’d have you sit on his lap the whole flight if he had to, but we definitely have the room. Give me the flight info. I’ll make Cez book it. Do not even think about clicking that buy button that I know you’re hovering over.”

“Bea...” you begin.

“No, not hearing it. Cez blocked out travel budget for him to go home and you know that didn’t happen, so your flight there and then back with him at the end it is instead,” Beatriz interjects. “I’ll loop in C for sure. Maybe Andrew. Less folks who know the better, we need to keep this on lock down.”

“Beatriz, you’re the best. I owe you big time. I’m so glad you’re on this rag tag motley crew,” you thank her. “Let Cez know if he needs anything when he’s booking, if they don’t have it saved to just let me know.”

“Bottle of Bulleit and you finally spill the recipe for those kitchen sink bars the boys are always raving about and inhaling, we’ll call it even,” she deadpans. “But no really, I’m glad to help. As much as I tease that boy of yours, I’ve got a soft spot for him. We need to figure an epic reveal. It’s late. I’ll fire off a text to Cez and we’ll be on it tomorrow. Off with you. Night!”

You have a week between that call and your flight down to get all your things in order luckily. Work is understanding and accommodating, your boss practically sending out the out of office email for you after she hears your plans. He meanwhile has a few shows in Ecuador, Peru and Bolivia ahead of him within that same time frame.

“There’s that face I adore,” you smile through FaceTime as you’re tucked in bed, two nights before you’re due to leave. “Hi you. How was the show? Where are you now?”

“Just out of the shower in the hotel and about to fall face first into bed, but I needed a dose of my pretty girl before I do,” he exhales, running a hand though his mess of wet curls. “Good, crowds down here are something else. Beyond the first time I swung through, on the last tour. And them singing back in perfect English still breaks my brain a little. Tired though. Looking forward to the break. Day break here, then like a half one off in Santiago before the last few shows. It’s so crazy to think we’re there already.”

“I can’t believe it’s almost over,” you murmur. “You did it baby, an entire circle of the globe. I’m beyond proud of you.”

“As much as I love this, I’m ready for just me, you and our bed. At least for a week straight, if not a few of them,” he chuckles. “Remind me of how tired I am now when I start to say I’m twitchy or bored, ok?”

“If you say so,” you say sleepily. “Just remember, I get to drag you with me on some my work trips next. Denmark for sure. Hong Kong perhaps since that’s still a moving target. Maybe Prague. Wanna be a silly romantic tourist with you for a bit. Just me and you”

“Always me and you, sweetheart. Go get some sleep. You’ve got work in the morning,” he whispers. “We can talk more tomorrow, promise.”

“You sure?” you fight back a yawn, eyes starting to flutter. “Can you sing to me though? Please? I miss you. Be like you’re here.”

He starts humming at first, the eases into a slowed down, Shawn-esque version of Sam Smith’s Latch. You want to stay awake to hear the whole thing, but he sounds like he’s there singing it right into your ear while he’s got your back against his chest. It’s so pretty, easy and dream like that you drift off in moments. He watches you for a few minutes after he finishes the song, making sure you’re truly asleep. Plus, he just wants to feel like he’s next to you in bed.

“Goodnight and sleep well, baby,” he whispers before disconnecting from FaceTime, a small smile slipping across his lips.

“He still has no clue by the way, so you’ve done a bang-up job,” Cez explains as he rings you while you’re in the car on the way to Pearson. “You’re still running on time from what we checked so you’re good. We’ve got everything square. Bea will come snag you from the airport, you’ll have time to hit the hotel, she’ll have the extra room key for you so you can get some actual rest and then get ready. Figure we’ll grab you while he’s doing Q&A. Do you want to surprise him before the show? After?”

“During?” you laugh, leaning your head back against the headrest as the car makes its way down the 401. “Maximum effect. Con would be on my side too you know, epic footage.”

“Of course, you do,” he retorts. “I should have known. Don’t forget, I’m on your side too. I’m glad this worked. I know it’s been a long stretch. For the both of you. I’ve seen it wear on him, but he’s put up a good front minus a few nights where he ends up with me until he needs to get to sleep, just needing someone who understands to talk to.”

“I’m glad he has you, that we both have you. You are a gift, Cez, really,” you reply as the car slows to ease up to the terminal. “I’m just about to hop out. I’ll text you and Bea when I land in the morning, customs will probably take a bit to get through. Thank you again.”

“Fly safe, dear. Try to get some rest and we’ll see you tomorrow,” he responds.

Check in was easy, of course they went above and beyond on the flight. You text Cez and Bea a photo of a cookie from the lounge with your ticket telling them they did not need to and thanking them. Cez responds first.

Again, you know if he found out we flew you like in row 24 on a flight that long, he would pitch a fit. I’m not up for a Shawn fit this late into the last of the last legs of tour. Enjoy the space and the lay flat. Sunshine and that boy awaits you.

Beatriz chimes in next.

Label owes you and the pain in the arse, so enjoy it! Have one for me. I’ll be there for you tomorrow with bells on and a tea in hand. Cannot wait for this – so epic. You two are nauseatingly adorbs.

The flight wasn’t crowded thankfully and the room to stretch fully is a welcome bonus. You are able to wind down a lot easier than expected and get a decent amount of sleep especially given it was on a flight, lay flat or not. Despite an extra circle, you land only a few minutes past your initial arrival time, make it through customs quickly and thankfully your luggage is waiting for you once you’re done.

“There she is,” Beatriz calls out as you head out to the open concourse. “And in one piece too with all your bits and bobbles. Good, the boss won’t be angry. And as promised, your tea!”

“Which one?” you chuckle, snagging the iced chai before hugging her.

“I can handle Cez, your man though,” she rolls her eyes as you walk out to the sprinter van. “He tried you last night when we were coming back from dinner, couldn’t get through even though we all told him it was late. He got all sad puppy. You were just about taking off, so it made sense. If he only knew what today is bringing him. I’ll drop you at the hotel, sleep, shower, eat, do whatever. I’ll be round to grab you about 4.”

As soon as you step into his room, you are overwhelmed just by the sheer sense of being back in his space again, despite him not even being there at the moment. You drop your suitcase, strip and crawl immediately into his still unmade bed to surround yourself in the smell of him. Setting your alarm before you drift off, you curl yourself around his pillow and exhale. Only a few more hours and you’ll be able to wrap your arms around him instead of a goose down that carries whiffs of his scent. A deep breath, an inhale you hold just for a moment before letting it go carefully and you’re drifting away.

You wake shortly before the alarm and to a couple texts from Shawn.

Miss you pretty girl. Almost there.

FaceTime after the show tonight? Even just for a few, I can tuck you in from here again like the other night.

Saw this on the drive over before, couldn’t help but think of you.

It was a slightly angled photo out the car window, but it was of a park with a fountain surrounded by high bushes littered with flowers.

I wish I could press you into those blooms and kiss you. Would make such a pretty picture. Love you baby.

You will yourself not to cry. That sweet, sentimental boy of yours. You’ll have time, you need to make that happen tomorrow.

I miss you sweetheart, so much. Yes to tonight, I’d love a tuck in from you. We’re so close. Love you <3

A shower, some primping and a good battle with both your blow dryer and your travel steamer later, you’re finally ready to head out.

“He’s a lucky bastard this one,” Beatriz whistles before handing over your new credential as you slide the van door closed behind you. “Don’t you have any sisters you can send my way? Cousins?”

“Sorry Bea, only child,” you laugh, as the van pulls away. “Cousins are stateside and not your type.”

“He was happy to hear from you before. Stopped in the middle of sound check to look at his phone. Got all stupid smiley and googly eyed,” she rolls her eyes. “He’s so gone on you if it wasn’t so bloody sweet to see him so gushy, it would make me ill.”

“Just wait ‘till later. I should apologize now,” you explain.

“Why there’s no plans for post-show, dearie. We knew better,” she giggles. “Shawn’s not going to want to share.”

You can’t help but smile as you pass the park he sent you the photo of earlier, it’s prettier than his shot let on. You definitely have to go there tomorrow. From that point, it’s a windy way through the streets of Santiago to the arena.

“He should just be wrapping up,” Beatriz prattles, looking at her watch as you make your way through the bowels of the building. “Which is good, I can sneak you into Cez’s room without him sniffing about. You, he, Jake and Con still need to hash everything out yeah?”

“Kind of. It’s the fine tuning of details at this point,” you say, flipping the pass around in your hands before slipping it around your neck as you walk, still not fully grasping you’re going to see him as soon as you are. “It’s a matter of where to go in the pit during his walk up to stage where I won’t be spotted too easily, but also not be in the way of everything either. I think it’ll work, totally up to Jake though. Worse case, we’ll do it just before rally or he hits the stage. Better visuals, and Con will agree with me, but it’s Jake and Cez who have final call.”

“It’s brilliant, all of it. However, here is where I leave you for now,” Beatriz nudges you through the door into Cez’s makeshift office for the next two days. “Need to make sure the sound techs have everything. Fridge is stocked, so steal what you need. He should be back in a few. They’re due to be walking your man now. His room isn’t far, so stay put. I’ll let C know you’re here. Toodles!”

Shortly after you settle in on the couch, engrossing yourself in your inbox, you feel someone settle down next to you.

“Thank god you’re here, I cannot do the sad Shawn shit anymore,” Connor sighs, throwing an arm around your shoulder. “I love him like a brother but damn, this go has been a beast when he’s feeling it like that.”

“Hi Connor, I’ve missed you too Connor, it’s good to see you Connor,” you roll your eyes, pushing his arm off you with a poke.

“Yeah yeah, all that too,” he smiles, sliding his arm back into place and kissing your cheek. “It’s good to have you here, all that aside. Despite all that, missed you around these parts.”

“Considering Central America took away our long weekend together, with no warning. It’s just been a hard go this swing. For both of us. May just be the wear and tear of a tour this long finally hitting. Even with as much as we’ve made it a priority to stay more connected and grounded. You guys are lucky it’s the end and it didn’t happen in like the middle of Europe, or the US leg. Though that would have been easier to get to than an almost 11-hour flight,” you fight out.

“You’re too good for him you know?” he teases. “Remember, he has friends if you ever need to bail.”

“Not any of y’all that’s for sure. No way. And, it’s the other way around, Con,” you reply, poking at his knee. “So, you’ve seen the setup, what’s going to make the most sense?”

“We’re going to do whatever you want, missus,” Jake chimes in as the door shuts behind him and Cez. “Only thing I require is a hug.”

“I think that can be arranged,” you say happily, ducking around Connor to get to Jake. “Con, stop being in the way.”

“Thank you,” you murmur to Jake as he pulls you into an embrace.

“We should be thanking you,” he whispers hugging you tightly. “And seriously. We’ll make it all happen. Kid needs this as much as you do.”

You pull away, smiling. “Ok guys so here’s what I’m thinking. Let’s surprise him on the walk out.”

The details come together quickly as well as easily. You’re happy, the team is comfortable with it all. It also helps he’s not expecting a thing. Everyone’s on board.

“So,” Cez begins, rolling a bottle of water around in his hands as everyone else filters out. “Hop a flight on a whim in the states or Canada is one thing. Cross the pond, a little more effort, but doable. This is something else entirely, even for the two of you.”

“I don’t know why this one is so different; I wish I knew; believe me I do. It would have saved me an 11-hour flight,” you utter. “It’s not like we’ve not done it before. We got through this, worse even, when he went out on last leg of the last tour and I had no leverage to take time off to come out other than that last show. We were only together a little bit at that point.”

Cez smiles his all-knowing smile, looking down at your hands playing with your credential. “I think you do, somewhere in there. I think he does too, well I know he does.”

“What are you talking about?” you ask inquisitively. “We’re good, really good. Minus this blip and it’s just us being a little more emotionally wound together. More in the groove than we’ve ever been. It’s been great, actually.”

He smiles yet again, making you wonder even more, and picks up his hand pointing to a certain finger.

“No,” you shake your head.

He nods, still smiling. “You’re practically there already.  We were honestly all surprised it didn’t happen before tour, or at break. Especially after Japan. I knew though not the holidays, it’s too cliché and not him, or you. He’s asked me a few things, more recently. Won’t give away more than that, but it kind of all makes sense. At least to me.”

“I just. Like. Shit Cez,” you sigh, looking down at the lam in your hands. “We’ve talked about it before, couple times. We want it, both of us. He’s it for me, and vice versa. He knows I’ll say yes. I’ve told him as much. But I’m also not that girl that needs the pretty on her hand to know where we stand in our relationship. He’s also not that overly possessive man who needs to prove he’s got me like that to the world, even in his crazy whirlwind of a life.”

“I think it’s both of you really ready for what’s next and this just all happens to be in the way right now. But, you’re here now, which not only is he going to be over the moon about, the rest of us are pretty happy as well. Not just because he’ll be in better spirits, it’s because we love you just as much too,” he states plainly. “You’re as much a part of this, a part of the family. I’m personally glad you’re here for these last few. This run’s been special, you should be here for the end of it.”

“Do not make me ruin my makeup, damnit,” you half laugh, half bite back a sob. “I’m so glad he has you, not just on the road, but in general. I know how much he loves you. I do, too.”

His phone pings rapidly.

“Ten-minute warning for fetching him. Let’s go get you out and set. Phil’s on you until Jake walks out with Shawn,” he states, reaching for his headset in one hand, for you with his other.

You carefully walk down the back hallway towards the stage together. Jake and Phil meet you at the back corner of the build out. Jake hands you off a fresh pair of earplugs.

“You’re going to need these,” he reminds you. “It’s his usual walk, so he won’t expect a thing. Especially seeing Phil at that junction of the barricade, once Phil gets the signal from me that we’re going, he’ll shift behind you so Shawn can spot you.”

You throw him a thumbs up as you wedge the plugs into place. Phil takes your arm in his, his other hand patting your forearm.

“Let’s go surprise him,” he says, leading you out to the pit.

For some reason, probably your conversation with Cez if you’re being honest with yourself, has your stomach set off with butterflies. You’ve not been like this since the early days of your relationship. Excited, always. Happy, without a doubt. Nervous though? No. You try to not shift about, instead closing your eyes to take in the moment. The crowd is loud, you can smell the remnants of the smoke machine test earlier lingering in the air.

Phil taps your shoulder, sliding you into place in front of him.

“He’s walking,” he mouths with a wink.

The house lights come down and the stage lights start to just warm. You exhale and lean back onto Phil slightly, whose hands come to rest comfortably on your shoulders. The opening video starts to roll and the lights hit the pit walk so you know you’ve got about 30 seconds at best before he comes into view. Phil pushes you forward just a touch just as you spot Jake and Shawn with Connor shuffling just behind to get the right angle for the surprise.

He’s in his pre-show zone, not taking in much around him. Jake nudges him though and his eyes shoot up. Shawn looks over towards you, taking a moment for things to register, and when it does his smile is as bright as you’ve seen. His eyes grow wide, he turns to Jake, who nods with a grin and then Shawn takes off in a sprint.

“Surprise!” you try to scream, but he’s already got you in his hold lifting you to swing you around.

“Tell me I’m not dreaming, please,” he utters in your ear before pulling you closer, finally getting you back on your feet.

You slide your hands from his shoulders, one to the nape of his neck fingering the wispy curls there, the other to nudge his one in-ear out.

“Not a dream, baby. Very much here, very much real. You got me for the rest of the run, love,” you say directly into his ear. “Go be my Rockstar. I’ll watch side stage, be there waiting for you after the show.”

You pop his in-ear back into place then cup his cheek, watching his eyes roll back slightly.

“I love you so damn much,” he yells before kissing you soundly. “I am so lucky you’re mine.”

Shawn rubs his nose against yours before sneaking in another kiss, then runs up to the stage with Jake on his heels. Jake winks as he passes, throwing a double thumbs up before Phil takes you towards the back staircase so you can set up on the rolling case you know is waiting for you.

The show is electric as always, but he’s got a special energy tonight. You can’t help but feel a bit happy as to probably being the reason why. He’s smiling, sweaty and disheveled, running back towards you in the break before the encore.

“You’re a mess,” you quip with a smile, handing him a bottle of water and a towel.

“Never minded that before,” he retorts back, running a hand through the mess of his hair after wiping his face down with the towel.

“Not the place Shawn Peter,” you say, shooing him away. “Go finish, I’m not going anywhere.”

He drops the water bottle down on the case next to you, stealing another kiss before bopping his way back out.

You hop off the case and head out towards the curtain line to get a better view. His encore covers have been something else this tour. He’s been leaning hard into Tom Petty’s Free Fallin’ and it’s a stunner, especially just him and the piano.

“I had a surprise tonight delivered to me just before the show, a really amazing one actually,” he begins as he settles into playing the piano. “So, if you all don’t mind, I’m going to play something a little special before I get into my last two songs.”

Once he hits the first few chords, your jaw drops immediately.

“You lift my heart up when the rest of me is down. You, you enchant me, even when you're not around. If there are boundaries, I will try to knock them down. I'm latching on babe now I know what I have found,” he sings and you can’t help but inch closer to the edge as far as you can go without being spotted or seen. “I feel we're close enough, I wanna lock in your love. I think we're close enough, could I lock in your love, baby? Now I got you in my space, I won't let go of you. Got you shackled in my embrace; I'm latching on to you.”

You didn’t expect this the other night, so you very much don’t expect it tonight. You can’t do anything but watch him, enamored and amazed. He sounds breathtaking. The whole song just gives you goosebumps, especially in a setting like this. Damn this boy.

“Thanks for indulging me tonight, Santiago,” he says and you can see the flush spreading across his cheeks, even from there. He immediately segues into Free Fallin’ to get his encore moving, before finishing completely with If I Can’t Have You.

He’s got a hold of your hands the moment he’s out of sight of the audience.

“Did you like it?” he asks, dipping his head down to kiss you, feather soft.

“Love it, love you,” you reply, dusting kisses across his knuckles. “Come on, let’s get you back there before they start to think we’re defiling a case on the stage.”

He chuckles, tangling his fingers deeper with yours before leading you towards his dressing room. As you hit the main hallway, most of the band and the crew are waiting there and start whooping and clapping the moment the two of you come into view.

“What the hell?” you question, as he holds your hand tighter trying to make your way down the hall. He shakes his head, cheeks pink as he bites his bottom lip.

“Hold up,” Jake stops you both just before the doorway to his room, arms crossing against his chest and a shit eating grin spread across his face. “Believe you owe this lady a thank you.”

“Hello, the song, on stage, the encore? In front of the whole damn audience,” he retorts, running his free hand through his curls before tugging you towards him and the door without getting you covered in post-show sweat. “Now I’d like to shower, get the heck out of here so I can spend some time with her. Without an audience.”

You can hear the snickers and wolf whistles, it’s your turn to flush. Jake shakes his head no.

“You know what you assholes, fine,” Shawn sighs before rolling his eyes.

“Don’t even with me kid,” Jake smirks.

“I know what you’re…” he trails off but tugs your hand, so you stand closer to him. “Shit. C’mere baby.”

The next thing you know he’s cupping your neck and kissing the breath straight out of you. Your hands fly up, one gripping his shoulder the other tangling in his hair. He pulls away first, just as breathless as you’re feeling.

“You all happy now? Can I please get into my room?” he asks.

Jake moves aside, patting him on the shoulder. He snatches your hand and tugs you into the room, shutting and locking the door behind you both.

“Do I even want to know?” you say, leaning back against the door as he toes off his boots.

“Grander the gesture, bigger the thank you,” he replies, stripping off his button down next, his tank and jeans follow. “They like to tease, you know this. Especially when you and I start getting the way we do. It’s all in good fun, but not when you pull the most epic surprise and I’ve run through a whole damn show. I haven’t seen you in how long and I still haven’t really held you or loved on you the way I want to.”

“Then you best go shower, sweetheart,” you tease. “You know feeling is mutual.”

He darts over to kiss you again, “Be right back.”

He’s quick, which you appreciate, and even more that he’s just in a pair of threadbare, low slung navy sweats when he heads back out to you. He drops the towel in his hand to snag yours, pulling you towards the couch. He flops down first and pulls you immediately down on top of him. He kisses your forehead before scooting you down so your head can rest comfortably on his shoulder. He smells fresh, clean, warm, like him and like home.

“Hi baby,” he murmurs against your lips before kissing you slowly and thoroughly. “Fuck, how I missed you. I can’t believe you’re here. I’m so damn happy that you’re here. You’re amazing you know that? How did you pull this off?”

“Once Hong Kong pushed timeline, I had a little wiggle room, but I wouldn’t be sure until Denmark signed off,” you explain, finger carefully tracing back and forth against his collarbone and shoulder. “I didn’t want to get either of our hopes up, so I didn’t say anything. Then like a week and a half ago? That night we just couldn’t get timing together I think you were in Panama still. I was up and cranky at stupid o’clock, said screw it. I knew I had some comp time due, had a little vacation time left, plus after Bucharest debacle on their part, they kind of owe me to boot. Called Bea, looped in Cez and voila.”

“You’re making it harder to even come remotely close to do for you what you do for me,” he presses his lips against your hair. “I’m so grateful for you.”

“There’s not a tally, sweetheart. We do for each other, you know this,” you remind him. “You and me, always right?”

There’s a knock on the door and jingling of keys, you go to move but Shawn holds you to him.

“Just gonna be C, we’re not doing anything. You stay put,” he wraps his arms around your waist and nuzzles your ear.  

“Sorry kids, time to get a move on,” Cez calls out from the doorway. “Can I come in? Are you at least PG?”

“It’s cuddling man, that’s all,” Shawn barks out with a laugh as you bury your head into his neck.

“You’ve got about 10 minutes to get yourselves together before the sprinter gets here,” he reminds you both. “We’ve got a curfew in the building overall, so we can’t be late on this one.”

“I’ll make sure he’s ready,” you reply, trying to wiggle out of his hold. “Let’s go, you. Need to get your stuff together. Can’t be late.”

“Listen to your girl, Shawn,” Cez remarks. “She’s right. Plus, you’ll be free of us and interruptions once you’re back at the hotel. Late call tomorrow since we’re already set here. I’m leaving the door unlocked and open so no funny bunny ok?”

“Thanks, Cez. See you in a few,” you say, trying to nudge at Shawn.

“You know that means we can go to that park in the morning,” you whisper, kissing his chin once Cez is back out in the hallway. “Upsy daisy dear.”

He sighs dramatically, but with a smile, “Only if you promise a little morning love, breakfast in bed and that park in the morning.”

“You drive such a hard bargain,” you giggle. “It’s a deal.”

He kisses you quickly and loudly before sitting up with you still in his hold, “I can’t wait to get you alone alone tonight.”

“Which would be sooner if you got a move on,” you roll your eyes, poking at his chest while his hands palm you ass.

He stops for a moment though, looks at you softly while not taking his eyes off of you.

“Love you pretty girl,” he declares, hand pushing stray strands of your hair away from your cheek, before holding it in his palm.

“Love you too, Shawn.”  

[thisbrokenmask]

Tease

Title: Tease

Pairing: Namjoon x reader

Genre: Established relationship, light smut, slight fluff?

Warnings: Mentions of dom/sub themes (literally just a mention of how Joon takes control), semi-public, heavy petting, teasing, possessive boyfriend, light smut.

Word Count: 5.6k

Song inspiration: Burning Up (Fire)

A/N: My fourth submission for ficswithluv’s Bulletproof Bingo Event is finally here! This is my longest one so far, sort of a commission for a friend of mine who isn’t on tumblr. I asked her to pick my next song from my bingo card and then asked her what kind of thing she wanted and which member/s she wanted to feature. All she gave me was ‘something passionate’ and nominated our very own President Joon. I sent her this earlier this evening and let’s just say she was pretty happy with it! It’s the closest to smut I’ve written in a long time, which is why it took me so long to write as I was making more edits than normal to make sure it was to a level I was happy with.

Also, for the purposes of this story, Y/N is the same age as Taehyung and Jimin :)

The heat around you was stifling, and yet you couldn’t imagine wanting to be anywhere else right now. 

You held your necklaces down against your chest as you jumped in time with the beat, the bass line emphasised by the hundreds of other bodies that were doing the same around you.  You hadn’t stopped smiling the whole time you’d been here, but you’d given up on singing along a few songs ago, your throat dry and starting to scratch after an hour or so of belting out your favourite lyrics. You hadn’t wanted to risk losing your spot right at the front just to get a drink, especially when you knew the set was nearly over, so you’d persevered. 

Your eyes drifted shut as you felt the familiar euphoria wash over you, the same feeling you got every time you got lost in one of these underground shows. Even in the dim lighting, your skin was glistening with the sheen of sweat, the small venue meaning that, even at a limited capacity, the audience was forced to be in even closer proximity than they would be at a normal gig. While you would normally be a bit wary of being so close to so many strangers that contact was unavoidable, there was a sense of security in the fact that everyone else was here because they were into the music as much as you were. If this was a normal nightclub, you’d be stood with your back to the bar and a wary eye on anyone who so much as blinked in your direction.

This wasn’t a normal nightclub, though. This was a strict, word-of-mouth-only gig, a rarity now that the band above you was becoming more and more well known, but it meant that the only people who knew about it were from the scene the guys themselves had grown from and, despite the bad press underground music seemed to get, you’d never met a more respectful group of partiers in your life. Sure, you got jostled and nudged and bumped into, but there was nothing untoward in any of the contact you experienced. No wandering hands or unwanted touches, just the consequences of people getting as lost in the music as you were. 

Besides, they all knew who you were, and so they subsequently knew that any bad word from you would lead to Namjoon banning them for life. You’d repeatedly told him it was too extreme a punishment, but he was adamant. No one touched his girlfriend except him, and that was the end of it. 

Your teeth sank into your lower lip as you imagined Namjoon being able to see you from the stage. You knew that the sight of you amongst the sea of writhing bodies must have been driving him crazy, especially when he’d repeatedly told you that you could watch the gig from the wings of the stage so that he didn’t have to suffer for the whole two hours. But making him wait rather than letting him steal kisses during the breaks in the set was all part of your fun, knowing that the pent up frustration would pay off to both of your benefits before the night was over. 

Another part of your fun was pretending to watch everyone but him. You spent most of the gig watching him, always enthralled by the performer he was, but whenever he looked over to you, you would enjoy letting your gaze linger on Hobi’s hips the few times he would dance freestyle or following Jimin’s hand every time he pushed his hair back from his face. If Namjoon didn’t know it was all part of the game you both played, you wouldn’t do it, but there was something about the way his jaw got tighter every time he caught you watching one of his bandmates that caused a heat to rise from within you. Not to mention the thought of how he would insist you needed reminding who you belonged to afterwards. 

Just the thought of what was to come was enough to let your head drop back onto your shoulders, crooking the arm raised above your head at the elbow to push your own hair away from your neck in a vain attempt to get some cool air on your skin. 

When your eyes finally opened, they were magnetically drawn to Namjoon’s sunglasses, the red frames a stark contrast to the silver hair he was currently sporting. You were close enough to see the beads of sweat at his temples and the way his eyes were locked onto you through his dark lenses. You held his gaze just long enough for him to register that you were looking at him before shifting your focus to Taehyung. You smirked at the way Namjoon’s jaw muscles clenched in your peripheral vision and, knowing that the next was their last song, you decided that tonight was as good a time as any to up the ante in your teasing. 

As Namjoon stepped forward to make the announcement to the crowd that confirmed that this was, in fact, going to be their last song of the night, you took your chance while he was distracted. Looking down as you untucked your top from your shorts, you let your hair fall back over your face to hide the cheshire grin you could feel pushing against your cheeks. The loose material billowed up slightly as it was freed, reminding you why you’d tucked it in to begin with, but you gathered it up in your hands to tie it across your chest. The simple knot rested just under the swell of your breasts as a result, which, combined with the low neckline, left little to the imagination. If it wasn’t for your inherent trust in the crowd around you, you’d never dream of showing so much skin at a gig, but you felt safe enough here to do so. 

You stifled a giggle when you caught Jin watching you, sending a cheeky wink his way that made him shake his head with a playful roll of his eyes. You watched him subtly lean in to Yoongi and murmur something in his ear as Namjoon expressed his thanks to everyone who had turned up. You saw the older rapper’s eyes shift to your face, drop down to your exposed midriff and then shoot back up to your eyes again. You shrugged and feigned a pout, fanning yourself with your hands to show you were making the heat your excuse, but Yoongi simply laughed, wiping a hand over his face as he looked away. 

They knew as well as you did that this would be more than enough to distract Namjoon, maybe it was even verging on being too distracting, but you couldn’t find it in you to care all too much. Your opportunities to play with your boyfriend’s patience during performances were now few and far between, and not only because the front row at a stadium concert was much further away than the front row at a 250-person gig; Namjoon didn’t let you in the crowds at their bigger concerts for your own safety, especially since your relationship had become public just over a year ago. No, when they toured and you were lucky enough to make it, you watched from the wings with the tech crew. But here, you had insisted that he let you be part of the crowd again, telling him you wanted to see him in his element just as you had when you’d first met and fallen in love with him. When he’d relented, you’d known you were going to milk it for all it was worth.

By the time Namjoon was wrapping up his speech with a shout of ‘불타오르네!’, the news of your plan had spread through the other members on the stage. Jimin and Taehyung had both shot you grins as wide as your own, grinning at the back of their leader and laughing between themselves, no doubt making bets on how long it would take for two things to happen: first, for Namjoon to notice you, and second, for Namjoon to drag you away from the rest of the band when you went to meet them backstage. Hobi, just like Jin and Yoongi, had shaken his head only to be betrayed by the smirk on his mouth before imperceptibly sending a sharp dig into Jungkook’s ribs with his elbow, the maknae seemingly frozen to the spot with a water bottle halfway to his lips. Startled, Jungkook’s face flushed red as he turned away, much to the delight of his hyungs despite the wary glances he was shooting at Namjoon. You felt a small twinge of guilt, knowing how much Jungkook respected your boyfriend as his leader and you as his noona but, given that he could also be incredibly cheeky towards you when he’d let a few glasses of soju pass his lips, you felt you were well within your rights to still be able to make him blush.

The cheer of the crowd brought your eyes back to Namjoon as he stepped back from the front of the stage. As they got ready to perform, you saw Jimin lean over and speak right into Namjoon’s ear, and for a second you thought he might be ratting you out, spoiling your fun. However, when all Namjoon did was nod and rearrange his shirt on his shoulders as he turned back to the crowd, a small sigh of relief relaxed your shoulders. 

You watched as Namjoon let the rising tempo wash over him, tipping his head back and breathing deeply as he waited for the beat to drop, and you felt a shiver creep up your spine as you waited for him to notice you. Despite how much you’d enjoyed teasing him all night, you now found yourself unable to take your eyes off of him. You couldn’t look away if you tried, desperate to see the exact moment he noticed you and your newly arranged outfit, though, if you had, you would have seen the way Jimin snuck a glance at you with a grin. Even as you let yourself get swept up in the crowd jumping around you, your eyes stayed firmly on Namjoon. 

All throughout the opening chorus, he jumped about with his bandmates like they always did, throwing arcs of water over the crowd and joining in with the rhythmic bouncing on his feet. Even during Hobi and Yoongi’s verse, he seemed to stay over on the other side of the stage from you, and you could feel yourself growing frustrated. As much as you tried to remind yourself that Namjoon was nothing if not a generous performer, wanting to interact with as much of the audience as he could, you couldn’t help but feel that he was purposefully ignoring you. Maybe you had gone too far with your game, even though you were sure you hadn’t been any worse than normal. 

If they were performing the choreography, you’d understand Namjoon’s distance, but considering they’d decided to forgo the routine for their last song, it meant Namjoon was purposefully avoiding coming near you. The image of Jimin whispering in your boyfriend’s ear flashed up in your memory and you began to think maybe, just maybe, Jimin was trying to sabotage you. After all, you knew he’d most likely made a bet with Taehyung and you also knew Jimin was not against trying to sway the odds in his own favour. 

You called it cheating, he called it being strategic. 

His pink hair seemed to glimmer under the stage lights as he sang his part of the hook alongside Jungkook at the front of the stage, holding out his mic to the crowd for the recalls, his grin as wide as it always was when he got to perform so closely to his fans. He caught your gaze as the chorus kicked in but quickly looked away. Given the playful flirtiness you and Jimin had always had as a part of your friendship, both before and after you and Namjoon had started dating, his looking away from you without first sending a cheeky wink your way had you wondering if there wasn’t something more going on. 

You found it hard to keep up with the energy of the crowd as they bounced in time with the music, feeling like your thoughts were coming too quickly for you to hear them properly as you tried to figure out what was going on. As your feet came to a stop on the hard floor below you, you noticed that none of the seven men on the stage would meet your eyes in return. Not even Jungkook, who seemed to be able to sense it if you looked at him for longer than a few seconds.

It’s probably nothing, a small voice in your head made its way to the forefront of your conscious mind. It’s the last song, let them give the crowd what they want. 

“Hey, burn it up-” Namjoon’s voice cut through your thoughts, his verse bringing him to the front of the stage with a rise of cheers to meet him. He was just a few people across from you, leaning out over the first row of the crowd, and even this sudden increase in proximity after watching him on the stage all night was enough to bring your heart rate up. Your eyes darted around his face like you hadn’t seen him in weeks, taking in the sharp line of jaw, the damp hair at his temples, the way his lips formed around his words right up against the mic… 

You could also see his eyes behind his sunglasses from this angle and, with a hitch in your breath, you realised that he was watching you out of the corner of his eye. His dark gaze languidly drifted down your body as his deep voice continued to rumble out of the speakers, lingering at what you guessed must be your exposed waist before snapping back up to look you straight in the eye. You let your smile return as you gazed up at him from under your lashes but, rather than seeing any sort of approval cross his face, Namjoon’s brow seemed to furrow briefly before he turned away just in time for Hobi to join him, the two of them slinging their arms around each other’s shoulders. Being the subject of Namjoon’s attention never failed to spark a tingling sensation in your spine and this game of pushing each other to the limits in public was one you both enjoyed, regularly discussing where the borders of fun and actual frustration laid. The shivers that spread from your spine outwards to the tips of your fingers and all the way down to your toes was a confusing, heady mix of fear that he was actually unimpressed and arousal that he was trying to exert his dominance even from the stage. Even you couldn’t tell, despite how well you knew Namjoon, and it was a situation you hadn’t been in since you’d first started playing this game, back before you were publicly dating and you first tested the waters of trying to tempt him while he was on stage. 

The crowd continued to pulse and swell around you in time with the music like waves crashing up against a cliff and, in the same way a cliff withstands the waters, you were unmoved by the energy around you. All you could do was watch Namjoon, waiting for him to give you another dose of the attention he had just given you a taste of so that you could figure out what he was thinking. Pressing your thighs against each other as you felt the heat in your abdomen spread lower, you tried to repress the shiver that crept up your spine at the conflicting feelings you were experiencing. 

But it seemed as if a taste was all Namjoon was willing to give you as he went back to either dancing around the opposite side of the stage or purposefully looking out over and above you to the rest of the crowd. Arcs of water once again flew out across the crowd, their cheers reaching fever pitch as Jimin, Hobi and Taehyung indulged the crowd, performing small snippets of the dance break.

It wasn’t until the final chorus began to fade out that Namjoon met your eye again, this time simply nodding his head towards the door that led backstage as you saw the telltale twitch in his jawline. 

Fuck. 

As subtly as you could, you stepped back from the very front to make your way through the crowd to the left of the stage, ducking your head as you went. You cast one last cursory glance before turning down the small corridor that led to the backstage door, only to see that no one was watching you leave. Namjoon was back in among his bandmates as they lined the front of the stage, jumping along with the crowd before them.

Your heart was hammering in your chest as you made your way down the side of the stage, hastily pulling the front of your shirt free from the knot you’d thought was such a good idea not five minutes earlier. You weren’t sure if it was fear or just finally being away from the mass of bodies, but a chill ghosted over your arms as you fished your pass out of the small cross-body purse you were wearing (a gift from Hobi, of course) and held it up for the man stationed by the door. Seemingly satisfied after a very brief glance, he pushed the door open for you and let you through, pulling it shut behind you. 

As you passed the small steps that led up to the wings, you could hear the music fading out despite the renewed cheering that echoed down the hall in front of you. You’d never been here before, but you had been to enough venues of various sizes to find your way to the lounge area quite easily. Slipping inside, you smiled at the few members of BigHit staff that were waiting to help out post-performance, a few of the make-up eonnis waving you over to give you brief hugs. Just as they were asking you how the show had been, the echoes of loud footsteps and laughter started to come down the corridor and it became evident the boys had left the stage. Flashing a smile at the women beside you, you made your way over to the sofa on the other side of the room as they readied themselves for the organised chaos that always followed a gig.

Jin and Yoongi were the first ones to come through the door, unsurprisingly, both immediately finding their chairs and handing off their jackets to the waiting pairs of hands from wardrobe. Jin’s gaze locked with yours in his mirror. You didn’t miss how his eyes darted down to take in your smoothed-out shirt but, before you could ask where Namjoon was, he simply smirked and turned his attention back to Yoongi, who was talking beside him. 

Jimin and Jungkook tumbled in next with Taehyung close behind them, Jimin bent over in giggles and Jungkook talking rapidly with Taehyung, every back and forth between them bringing a fresh wave of laughter from their hyung. As he straightened up, Jimin was immediately ushered over to another of the make-up stations while Jungkook wandered over to wardrobe to hand over his jacket and begin taking off his outer shirt. Taehyung, the only one seemingly not bothered with removing his clothes or his make-up, came over to your side of the room with a feigned nonchalance that you could see right through. You knew him well enough by now to know that his barely-concealed grin meant he was dying to tell you something, but he had clearly sworn his secrecy as, instead of talking to you, he simply grabbed a bottle of water from the table beside you and winked as he turned away again, twisting the plastic cap open.

You weren’t sure if you were imagining the growing tension in the room as each of the present members seemed to catch each other’s gazes, none of them putting any effort into hiding their glances at you. Nervous energy was now thrumming through you, your right leg bouncing on the ball of your foot and your hands tightly interlocked on your lap. Before he could move away, you took a shot at trying to weaken Taehyung’s resolve.

“Taehyung-ah?” The man in question simply raised an eyebrow with a hum of acknowledgement. You looked up at him with widened eyes and a hint of pleading in your tone. “Where’s Namjoonie?” 

You’d stopped using ‘oppa’ for your boyfriend not long after you’d started dating, feeling a little bit uncomfortable with using the term for the man you were sleeping with as well as his older bandmates. Besides, he was more than happy with you using his nickname as a substitute for the honorific; at least, he was when you had company.

Taehyung glanced around with an exaggerated look of confusion, as if he’d only just realised Namjoon wasn’t yet in the room, before turning to you with what you could only describe as a mischievous smile, “I’m sure he’ll be here soon, Y/N-ah.”

Low and behold the door opened then for the final time, Hobi and Namjoon seemingly in deep conversation with one of the managers as they came into the room. You shifted in your spot, tucking a leg under yourself to refrain from running over to him and interrupting, and your hands started turning white as they gripped each other even tighter. Everyone else in the room tuned out of your senses as you watched Namjoon in conversation. It seemed the way he could enrapture you without even trying was never going to fade, your body sitting up straighter and your heart beating faster as your eyes drank him in, in all his post-performance glory. His sweat-dampened hair and flushed face made you subtly adjust the foot beneath you to put pressure against your core through your jeans, the sight so remarkably close to how he looked after sex that it almost made you whimper. 

Namjoon’s brow furrowed slightly as he carefully listened to the conversation around him before a smile lit up his features once more, Hobi’s laughter following immediately afterwards. When Hobi wandered over to talk to Jungkook, Namjoon finally looked up at you, his dark eyes immediately finding yours without hesitation. He held your gaze for what felt like an eternity, your heart hammering so fast inside your chest you were sure he could hear it even 10 feet away, until his eyes dropped to your clothes. You noticed the slight tilt of his head as he took in your untied shirt, an eyebrow rising slightly as he looked back up to your face, a question clear in his eyes. Feeling the opportunity to play arising once more, you tipped your head to the side in response as if asking what he was looking for, the small action making him smile with a glint in his eyes as they unabashedly roved over you once more. 

He turned as his name was suddenly called out, your eye contact breaking briefly before he gave you one last glance. The darkness in his eyes that vanished as soon as his attention was elsewhere made you know that look was only for you, and the thought sent a tantalising shiver through your body. He dropped into the make-up chair Jin had just vacated, Taehyung dropping into Yoongi’s just seconds later, and kept his gaze down towards his phone, his fingers already tapping away rapidly. You continued to watch him for a few seconds before realising that you were full-on staring at him and, while he was your boyfriend and you had every right to look at him as much as you wanted, it probably looked a little bit scary to other people in the room. 

You settled back into the sofa once more with a sigh, diverting your attention to the other people in the room. You took these few moments to catch your breath, trying to calm your heart for the inevitable moment you would have to stand up to leave. You knew the boys weren’t stupid, but stumbling out on shaky legs would only add to the teasing they already loved to throw at you. You watched the rest of the band joke around with each other as they went through their normal post-show routines, although you couldn’t ignore that they normally would have come over to talk to you by now. The tension you’d felt building earlier was still there, a discreet undercurrent that made your shoulders tense slightly.

“Ahem.” The sound of Namjoon clearing his throat beside you made you jump, turning to see him standing over you with a hand outstretched, almost close enough to touch your cheek. You looked up to his eyes only to find them almost black as they stared back down at you. “Come with me,” he said, his voice was quiet but firm. “We need to talk.”

The sudden dryness of your mouth made it difficult to swallow as you carefully put your hand on top of his upturned palm, his fingers immediately closing over it to pull you up. As soon as you were on your feet, he turned to lead you out of the room with a determination that almost made you stumble as he pulled you along behind him. 

“Joon?” You struggled to find your voice as you entered the cool corridor, the sudden change in temperature after the warmth of the lounge making you shiver. “Is everything okay?”

Silently, your boyfriend turned right and led you further away from the stage and the rest of the club. Despite his silence, the squeeze he gave to your hand reassured you that he wasn’t angry; you knew that he wouldn’t even be holding your hand right now if he was. You passed another door, your eyes just able to read ‘Maintenance’ written across it before turning around the corner, the door to the parking garage in sight at the end of the corridor. Before you could fully form the thought that Namjoon was going to drive you both home, he suddenly stopped and turned back to you, twisting his hand to link his fingers with yours. 

“You sure do like to push my buttons, don’t you, princess?” If it wasn’t for Namjoon’s left hand pushing your hips back into the wall, you’re certain your knees would have given out when you heard his voice, deep and rasping as he leant to put his face against the crook of your neck. A whimper stopped short in your throat but your body didn’t let you down, flushing with heat as your back already began to arch into him. Namjoon’s body covered yours, your eyes drifting shut as his lips brushed against your neck under your ear. 

“I- I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you whispered back, your free hand fisting the hem of his shirt, your intertwined hands pressed up against the wall where he held them.

“No? Are you sure?” The hand on your hip drifted up slowly, pushing your shirt up along the curve of your waist as Namjoon took your earlobe between his teeth with enough pressure to send a jolt of pleasure through you. The warmth of his skin on yours made you shiver, the firm pressure of his hand making you lean your body into him. ”Do I have to remind you?” His hand left your ribs to grab the hem of your shirt, lifting the material and bunching it together just under your breasts, the cold air of the corridor hitting your skin immediately and contrasting the heat of his hand against your breastbone. “This ring any bells?” Namjoon pressed his mouth to your neck, lips parted slightly to let his warm breath heat your skin even more.

“Maybe,” you breathed out with a slight shake to your voice that you couldn’t conceal, pushing your hips forward to meet his before pulling them away again. “What about it?”

The rumble of Namjoon’s chuckle sent vibrations down your neck, his hips following yours to press against you, your slight height difference allowing him to push his hardened length right against your abdomen.

“Do you not think it’s hard enough for me to concentrate when I can see you in the crowd?” He pulled back to put his forehead against yours, eyes open and dangerously dark as they stared into yours. “Watching you in amongst all those bodies, watching people touch you while having to act like nothing’s wrong? Not able to come down and make sure everyone knows you’re mine?”” His words ghosted over your lips and he nudged your nose with his. You could feel his grip on your shirt tighten as the straps started to pull against your shoulders. “And on top of all that, you think it’s fair to do this to me?” He pushed the material up even further, dangerously close to exposing your chest entirely, your breath stuttering as you bit into your lip as your hips began to slowly roll against each other.

You could feel your blood pump faster as you squeezed his hand in yours, Namjoon answering the action in kind. You had yet to feel his lips on yours and it was driving you crazy, a small whine slipping past your lips as he moved his attention back to your neck. 

“Joon…” Your voice was barely above a whisper but seemed to cut through the silence of the empty corridor, your desperation clear in your tone. You loved that no matter how much power you seemed to be able to wield in the build-up, you always ended up completely at the mercy of Namjoon. He let you play with him, let you have your fun, but he was always the one to take control in the end. He decided when to give you what you wanted from him, and you wouldn’t get it a second sooner. And he was proving that now.

“It’s bad enough that you flirt with the others to make me jealous,” he continued to murmur against your neck. “I even told them to ignore you tonight to give you a taste of your own medicine, but it seems like you can’t cope with not being the center of attention. Isn’t that right, baby?” The hand that was holding yours slipped from your grasp to instead hold you by your wrist, the edge of authority hardening his voice making your knees weak. “Seems like I need to remind you who you belong to,” he mused, teeth grazing the column of your neck before planting a kiss just above your collarbone. A sigh escaped you as you shuddered, your body held between the wall and Namjoon’s chest. 

“Please.”

His eyes bore into yours, that dark playfulness that you craved glinting under the fluorescent lights. Your eyes drifted shut as Namjoon came even closer, your bodies touching in as many places as he could manage without having you wrapped around him. In the same second that you finally felt Namjoon’s lips brush against yours, their softness drawing a whimper from your mouth, a cacophony of voices, laughter and footsteps echoed down the corridor. 

Your eyes shot open, panicked, but Namjoon simply grinned, seemingly in no rush to protect your modesty as the voices slowly came closer. 

“Joon.” Your voice was firm, eyes rapidly going between his as your breath grew rapid from panic rather than arousal. 

“I can’t wait to get you home.” He stated simply and then, with a blink, the glint in his eyes disappeared and he stood back, his hands releasing your wrist and smoothing your shirt down against your tummy once more. He placed a kiss to your forehead just as the band came round the corner, the innocent act giving you mental whiplash. 

“Okay, guys, c’mon, keep it in your pants in public, please,” Hobi laughed as he walked towards you both, your back still up against the wall as Namjoon tucked your hair behind your ear with a chuckle. 

“Am I not allowed to talk to my girlfriend in private without being accused of being a pervert?” he joked, his other hand tucked in his pocket to try and subtly try and adjust himself in his jeans. 

“You two never ‘just talk’ in private,” Yoongi drawled without looking up from his phone as he made his way towards the parking garage, laughter rippling through the rest of the group behind him. You felt your cheeks flush, but not out of embarrassment; you were still catching your breath, the close call with being caught exciting you more than it ever had before. 

You and Namjoon were left behind the band, a few members of staff waiting behind you to make sure you both made it to the car waiting for you safely. Namjoon took your hand gently this time, smiling down at you and tugging you to fall into step beside him before draping his arm across your shoulders, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“Let’s get you home.”

[lemonietrinket]

Reach ||| Felix x Reader

Summary: After finding out that you are older than him, you feel like the chances of your crush liking you back immediately go from low to zero in a matter of minutes. But there are a few other things you don’t know about Felix, besides his age that you somehow managed to miss, so not all hope is lost...

Genre: Fluff, angst, with some small bits of humour thrown in  Warning(s): Some poor language (inferred: text abbreviations) Word Count: 4329 (+11 photos of fake text) Theme Song: Sing Me - Day6 

AN: A request from anon, I’m so sorry it took so long! I hope you like it, it did turn out a bit angstier (and a lot longer) than I originally intended but the fluff I think makes up for it!

~~~

You always felt so giddy and light whenever Felix was mentioned in any capacity in your vicinity. Your heart could never stop pounding at the speed of light, while your stomach was always alive with butterflies, fluttering up into your lungs and leaving you short of breath.

But now, dread slowly began to seep through your body like a poison, the butterflies ceasing up and stuttering. Their corpses fell to the pit of your guts, and those that did not became lodged in your chest and throat, leaving you without air for another reason entirely.

Your fingers numbly opened your laptop and pressed the keys of Felix’s name. You never searched him, you felt like it was an invasion of privacy, especially when he was normally right there within your physical grasp if you so wished to take it (which you never did, you were too afraid to take the leap). But this was something small, and though it was somehow something so huge while being so, you let yourself off just this once. Not that you could stop yourself even if you’d tried. 

The screen turned white, the search bar scrolling unnaturally slowly, until finally Google returned your worst fear.

Age: 19. In bold, unavoidable text. As if you were stupid. And you felt as if you were.

It had to be wrong, it had to be. An inaccuracy in results. You’d seen them happen before, whales with four legs and members of other groups being represented by the wrong photo.

You clicked on the first webpage and scrolled, your eyes unblinking, unwavering. And then the second. And then the third. 

19.

You pushed yourself away from the desk, your face a stone wall while your thoughts ravaged in your head. 

You couldn’t comprehend how you’d been years older this whole time. You’d assumed he was your age, you were on such a similar wavelength that your subconscious hadn’t considered he wasn’t.  Meanwhile the irrational part of your brain refused to be quiet. He isn’t even 20 yet, it said, think old you were when he was 18, when he was 17, when he was 16—

It was only three years. It wouldn’t mean anything in half a decade but it still weighed so heavily on your shoulders.  

You knew Chan was still messaging you, the light on your phone wavering in the corner of your eye, blurred with brimming tears.  The truth was though that you weren’t even crying, not with the rest of your body at least. You didn’t feel like it, the usual energy you had festering and leaving you empty, meaning the tears built up but refused to fall.

All of those beautiful smiles that put the sun to shame and had been directed to you meant little now—only that he probably liked you as his senior, nothing more. There was a chance that he only smiled at you to curry more favour, not because he genuinely liked you. All while the age-hierarchy indicated that all of those texts were probably just him responding to you because he felt like he had to.  Even when hope tried to remind you that he didn’t grow up with it, and regularly texted first, the voidful feeling crushed it.

Because, ignoring all of the age-related qualms, you still hadn’t bothered to even ask him how old he was. That surely made you a bad friend, and if you couldn’t be a good friend to him then what partner would you be? You were undeserving of him, and he most definitely did not like you back.

Aimlessly, you moved from your desk chair to your bed, dragging the cold weight of you phone in your hand and letting the screen turn black. As you lay dejectedly upon the covers, your thoughts trailed off to think of the boy you’d fallen so hard and quickly for. His radiant smile that you wanted to be the reason for, his pretty eyes that you always found yourself gazing into no matter how much you told yourself not to, his adorable hands that you just longed to hold... It was as if his features were emblazoned in your mind, and nothing could wash them away, and it only made thinking how these things were out of reach for you now hurt more.

Hearing your phone vibrate by your head where you’d discarded it, you absentmindedly flicked your eyes up to look at the lit screen. Seeing who the notification was from, your fingers immediately opened it up before you could stop yourself, eyes scouring over the messages.

You’d forgotten all about the restaurant trip you had agreed to last week. Everyone was going to be there. Your thoughts briefly turned to rationalising an escape route—maybe if you claimed sick Chan would let you stay home, or maybe if you even told him the full truth he would?

It was nonsense of course, everyone was going, so you would have to attend at least for their sake. Plus, he would always say that moping wouldn’t help after all, and you had to face your demons eventually.

Nevertheless, it didn’t stop you from feeling a shedload of regret for agreeing. Even if there was no way you could have known, you scolded yourself for putting yourself in the line of potential damage. 

Still, you couldn’t deny how badly you wanted to see everyone and catch up on everything—make new plans, learn new gossip—but you knew if you glanced at him, even just once, you would shatter.

With your mind in turmoil, you felt drawn to the clock ticking away endlessly on the other side of the room. It felt as if it was counting down to an end, though you put a quick stop to your melodramatic heart’s ramblings in this circumstance. You couldn’t focus on the sound for your own sanity’s sake, otherwise you wouldn’t head out at all.  Opting to check the time, you spotted that you still had an hour and a half before you had to get ready, if you pushed it. And yes, rushing was not something you preferred, but you’d already made an exception for yourself today so why not another?

You slipped under your blankets, rolling over to face the wall and shut out the world. Gravity played its part and pulled the tears from the barricades of where they’d halted, clearing your eyes so you couldn finally close them comfortably.

You’d get through it.  Perhaps things would be ok.

.

.

.

Smooth jazz music wafted across the air in the restaurant much like the rich scents of delicious food from the surrounding tables. With everyone smiling at one another, laughing into their drinks and desperately apologising to the next table over, you’d never felt more out of place.

You’d strategically sandwiched yourself between Chan and Jeongin, praying that this combination would be the most likely to not attract the attentions of Felix. But, to your luck, the person you were so desperately trying to avoid ended up sitting right opposite you.  And, to make matters worse, he seemed very intent on trying to catch your eye, send you smiles, and—the worst part by far—talk to you.

Aimlessly picking at your rice with your spoon, you felt awful; not only were you unable to handle the situation quite literally right in front of you, you had practically become a deadweight in the group. Even when Jeongin asked you things, the boy who had grown up so much and never failed to make your laugh with is sass, you could barely muster answers configured of multiple sentences. All the while your eyes were cut off from looking at the vast majority of the room, forced to the confines of the table, your hard left and your hard right. 

Soon enough, the time came where Felix finally spoke to you, and god you wanted the word to swallow you whole. 

“Hey, Y/N, can you pass me the soy?” 

Gulping, your forehead creased as you slipped your hand across to take the sauce from Chan and rigidly pass it across the wood.

He seemed to pay no mind to your wordlessness, replying with a bright, “Thank you!” All you could do was pray that would be the end of it. 

But one of the qualities you admired in Felix was his diligence, and it took the form of gentle persistence on this occasion nonetheless.

“Hey, Y/N, do you want to play some video games at some point?” he enquired, hastily adding, “Jisung and I have been meaning to get round to trying out this new multiplayer, and it seems right up your street! The art is really cool, and I’ve already downloaded some of the soundtrack because it’s just that good.”

You centred your eyes awkwardly on your rice, answering as simply as you could, “Sorry I’m busy.”

You heard him chuckle, seemingly completely unfazed, and the sound snapped another one of your heartstrings, “Well, obviously not right now, but maybe, like, tomorrow evening?”

“Y-yeah, busy.” You hated how he quickly caught onto your silence and followed suit, but you also had to be thankful in some shape or form. Maybe you could get this night over and done with, and then get over your crush too and save yourself the majority of the heartbreak that you presumed was inevitable.

However, Felix was not that easily deterred and by your luck—or was it misfortune?—you suddenly saw movement out of the corner of your eye.

Taking the risk and glancing up ever so slightly, your gaze met the sight of your crush leant in over the table. His head was cocked cutely to one side, the feathered tresses of his fringe effortlessly accentuating his features, his hand reaching towards you carefully without a particular aim other than to try and show something. He’d inclined over to try and reach you, and you had accidentally fallen right into him, your eyes catching his and he smiled.

It wasn’t fair. Those pools of rich chestnut had held you and very nearly broken every single one of your defences.  Your breath hitched in your throat.

“Are you ok?” he asked, and you could only stammer incoherent phrases, your cheeks heating up as you tried to hold yourself together. 

There were many reasons why you had fallen so quickly for this boy in particular, like his resilience as mentioned earlier. Though another one of those things was his selfless kindness, and it had arisen to bite you: of course he would notice your silence, your crestfallen expression and worry.  “Y/N? Do you feel sick? Do you want to get some air?”

Unable to respond once again, emptily swaying your spoon in a half-empty bowl you heard his voice at a strange distance. You didn’t snap back into focus, and only then barely so, until he continued, “Come on, lets get some air.”

Head empty and crowded at the same time, you looked up without fully understanding why. You could only rationalise that it was to see the sight of Felix sending a nod to Chan to your right, before asking Changbin to shift a bit so he could get through. Your heart lurched at it, the amount of care he offered you gnawing at your lungs.

Before you knew it, Jeongin was helping you stand, and you were out from around the table, following Felix a few steps behind. 

Your focus once again settled on him and him alone, even though you’d promised yourself before you arrived to never do so again. You wanted to believe that he did all of this because he liked you back, that he’d fallen for you just as hard as you’d fallen for him, but you’d convinced yourself he was just extremely kind—and he of course was, therefore meaning that the story was all tied up and set.

Nevertheless, there wasn’t much that could have prepared you for what followed.

.

.

.

The cold hit your face and knocked the daze out of you, and you suddenly felt very awake, as if you’d fallen face first into a pool of ice cold water. Having stepped out onto the balcony, you had been plunged into the night with little to protect yourself with. Hence you wrapped your arms around yourself as best you could, drawing your jacket closed as your eyes surveyed the street just metres below.

The lamplights were warm against the navy of the night, and the few people that were still out dappled in and out of the shadows. You let your mind wander as to where they were going; a graveyard shift, out to a party, home. You wondered if any of them had someone waiting for them, a love they couldn’t wait to see and hold again after a long day out. The thought sent a pang through your heart. 

The change of scenery had successfully distracted you from the person who had both directly and indirectly led you into it, but you couldn’t exist painless forever. You had to confront him now.

It was Felix who spoke first, though. Before you could even turn around, his voice, deep and sweet, danced across the breeze. “Hey, do you feel any better?”

You nodded simply, lips pressed together as to avoid anything stupid and sudden.

He sighed, a sound filled with relief but also an edge of something else. “Ah, that’s great. You do look it... the light’s returned to your eyes a bit.”

The wind buffered around the nearby buildings, a police siren wailing in the distance, catching your attention to the junction at the end of the street. Turning your head away from him, you shivered at the cold, listening intently to it fading away into the hum of the traffic. 

“I guess you found out then,” Felix began suddenly, a car horn making the both of you jump.

“Found out what?” you asked, keeping your head ducked low as you turned back towards him. 

You heard him pause but remained afraid to glance up. He hesitantly shuffled on his feet. “Th-that I have a crush on you.”

The world continued; the traffic bustled along the mainroad, people hurried along the streets, dogs barked at nothing. 

But to you, everything went silent. Dead quiet. No wind, no clatter of shop gates, no mildly drunken yelling.  Just your heartbeat, beating harder by the second, and the sound of your crush’s nervous breathing.

You looked up at him at last, to see his face obscured by his arm as he rubbed the back of his neck idly. He moved it away eventually, revealing his head downturned as yours had been just moments before.

You stood transfixed as his voice wavered, knocked by the wind as he attempted to explain, as if he needed to rectify a mistake. “I-it’s ok, I don’t want to ruin the friendship now, I—uh...” he broke off as he swallowed thickly, and you noticed that his cheeks weren’t flushed from the cool air, but rather from the tears that were welling in his eyes. “I want you to know that I’m so happy with being just friends, and... I really hope I haven’t made you feel awkward around me and—I’m sorry I...” 

You found it so cruel of the world to make his eyes glisten as if they held the stars when they cradled tears. It was a form of twisted irony that he didn’t deserve.  But it was the final straw that made your heart snap.

The spring of tension and worry and fear uncoiled as you reached across the deck for him, pulling him into the care of your arms. You were taken aback by how neatly they fit around him, how perfectly he rested against your chest and how his nose nuzzled into your neck. 

“No, it’s ok! Shh, don’t be sorry, you have no reason to be sad. Please don’t be sad,” you found yourself whispering, your voice so fragile that it no doubt was carried away by the wind as soon as it fell to his ear. 

You rubbed your hand soothingly across the mid of his back, the other tracing up to his hair and stroking the tresses there.  Meanwhile, Felix remained confused. he longed to sink into your touch, his fingers gripping at your jacket being proof of that, but he couldn’t bring himself to relax. 

“What...? Why are you...?”

A smile slowly rising to your lips, you didn’t waste a second. 

“You haven’t ruined anything, I’d be so happy with being friends with you too, but—I like you Felix, I have a crush on you too...!” you rushed, pulling away to hold him at arm's length. Upon seeing his shining, wide eyes and his puffed, pouting lips you sighed in relief. Reaching up, you cupped his face in your palms, like you’d wanted to do for so long. “God, I was such an idiot...!” 

“No, you’re not stupid!” Felix emphasised, barely coming to terms with your confession himself.

Though you nodded desperately, caressing his cheek with your thumb. “But I am. I thought you didn’t like me back.” It was then that reality decided to hit you full force, the sound of the rest of the world returning to yours as you exclaimed, “Oh my god, you like me back?!”

“Y-you like me back?!” he echoed, hands fumbling at his chest before finally gaining the courage to come to your shoulders instead. There he delicately ran his fingers across your shoulders, as if to check if you were even real. “Why—why wouldn’t I like you back?”

“Because you’re younger than me!” you said, “I didn’t think you’d see me as even viable, like, I thought you saw me as only a senior to you and that...” You gazed into his eyes, no longer cradling stars but rather glistening with the gold from the restaurant behind you, watching as they widened even further. “Why would I not like you back?”

“Because you’re older than me! I thought I wasn’t cool enough for you, and that you only were nice to me because you had to look out for me!”

His answer forced an astonished laugh out of both of you, and before you knew it the pair of you were in borderline hysterics. Felix fell back to cover his mouth with his fist, walking an aimless circle as you merely bent over, hiding behind your palms. 

“We’re so stupid!” he announced, his eyes wide and incredulous, all the signs of tears long gone. 

You sank your teeth into your bottom lip as you knocked your head back up, staring at him incredulously as you shook your head. “At least we both are.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, returning to you, his hands reaching for yours, “we can be dumb together.”

“Exactly, it’s merely proof that we belong together.”

You didn’t think your words through then, but any fear was met with strength, as Felix showed no sign of disagreement—rather the opposite, gently caressing your hands in his before you finally interlocked your fingers. Back together, only inches apart, you were once again in each other’s solace, stood against the auburn haze of the city night and the cold it brought.

“I don’t want to be friends with you anymore,” he murmured, the brightest grin on his face as he glanced to your lips.

“Neither do I.”

Desperately trying to keep yourself together as the proximity and the intentions of both his and your words, you leant in until your foreheads met. There you welcomed the grace of the small touch with your whole heart, wondering if you would reach out to what you had dreamt of.

With your eyes closed, unable to take in the sight of his soft beauty, you took in the scent of him as his deep voice caught your attention. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes!” 

Your words barely rolled of your tongue before the final gap had been closed between you and your lips met at last. 

His kiss was not what you expected; it was soft yet deep, as if he wished to instil final proof that he meant everything he’d said. You couldn’t help but melt into him, your hands drawing away from his own, only so you could loop them behind his neck. He mirrored you, his hands finding the small of your back, and pulling you closer as you pressed into him. 

Perhaps this time the world did stop, to momentarily regard you and the kiss that summarised all the feelings that had lingered in your soul for months. After all, it was a resurrection event too, as the butterflies’ sparks reignited, sending them spiralling throughout your body and you back into radiant life.

It didn’t matter to you though, as your world stopped and that was all that was important in that second. Just the feel of his lips soft and plump between yours, and the hum of absolute relief that mottled through your throat at the touch.

You pulled apart with a gasp from both sides, still entwined with your arms. 

Felix cursed, smile immediately returning to his features.

“What?” You cocked your head inquisitively.

“It’s so cold,” he said, exaggerating a shiver playfully to emphasise his point. 

You rolled your eyes at him with a chuckle, stepping away but instantly taking his hand into yours. It was a decision of mixed results, as yes you were holding his hand, but now you had to come to terms with just how tiny they were and how devastated that made you.

“Hey, stop ogling my hands!” he pouted.

You perhaps would have pressed the matter if you weren’t still dazed by how quickly everything in your life had changed for you. You swept your head back, before pulling your best Australian accent, “You don't like me ‘cause of my personality...”

He immediately caught on, the two of you immediately wailing, “Only ‘cause my body!”

You continued to laugh together as you made your way back inside the restaurant, grateful to be in the warm again.

“Honestly, I try to be nice to him one time...!” Felix said, pursing his lips as he shook his head.

“I know right! And he just throws it right back...!”

“Terrible hyung!”

“Hundred percent!”

As you turned the corner to where your table was, you only just caught sight of Hyunjin looking over in your direction before he suddenly shouted.

“Finally!” 

Confused, you took the lead, “Hey, sorry guys, I hope we weren’t gone for—”

All of a sudden you were confronted with seven guys sighing and sinking into their chairs with relief. Changbin was rubbing his eyes, Minho had his eyes centralised on the ceiling, all the while Jeongin was grinning wildly at Seungmin, a hand outstretched and beckoning for something, to which the elder was desperately miming for him to cut out. 

No answer came to mind until you noticed Jisung exasperatedly smiling at the two of you, or more specifically your interlinked hands. 

Glancing at Felix, silently asking him if he knew about this to which he shook his head bemusedly, your attention was taken away by Chan who had stood, making his way to the both of you.

“At last,” he stated, his features folded into tired relief, “praise the lord, I was starting to think we were going to need divine intervention—”

You heard Minho pipe up behind, “By divine intervention he means me!”

“—but thankfully we didn’t. God, I’m just happy that you finally did it.”

“Thanks...?” Felix looked at him sheepishly. 

You exhaled a laugh, bringing your new boyfriend a little bit closer to your side—something he of course didn’t have a single gripe with—ahead of catching Chan’s attention. “Bang, what is all of this?”

He pouted. “Hey! You can’t get mad at us for being sick of you two! Imagine having to watch two obviously-in-love people dance around the in-love-with-each-other part for months. It was driving us insane!” Before you could interject, the he continued, “It doesn’t matter now, we’re just happy that you’re together now at least. And look! Because I’m a good leader I’ve moved myself out of the way so you two can sit next to each other.”

Unable to quite comprehend this further development, that the entire group had been anxiously waiting for you to get yourselves together and confess for as long as you’d literally liked each other, you murmured a ‘thank you’, before  beginning to make your way to your new seats.

Your food was inevitably cold, but neither of you minded at all. The rush of newfound love had sated your appetites rather enough for tonight, though you expected you could go for one more thing. 

Ignoring the bustle of his group mate’s comments, and the rather proud smile of Chan opposite you, you turned to Felix, “Hey, do you want to share some ice cream?”

The look on his face made your heart flutter instantaneously.

It was as if the sun had risen, his pretty smile gleaming while his nose scrunched sweetly. “Yes please!”

Knowing his favourite flavour of the top of your head, you sat back and let Hyunjin call for the waitress so everyone could order desserts. Even when the others spoke to you, and even though you felt even more alive than normal, you always found yourself looking back to Felix, taking in the sculpture of his adorable face that you now could hold between your fingers if you so wished. 

He meanwhile got shy under your gaze, smiling to himself as he looked away coyly.

As you leant in to whisper how adorable he looked in his ear, you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket.  Taking it out swiftly, your heart swelled as you read the message upon your lockscreen. Sending a thankful grin to the man opposite you, you quickly turned your attention to detailing your order to the waitress.

And at last, things were much more than ok.

~~~

AN: ok so this took longer than i imagined (like a solid 4 hours at least, idek i wasnt actually counting) 

the irony is i actually wrote that felix’s age was 20 until i luckily checked and found he was still 19. i’d forgotten to count that his birthday hadn’t happened yet but. yeah. proud stay moment.

apologies for any poor quality ss, my phone hates me

i hope you enjoyed anon and so again for the wait!

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