#it must be something in the air bc I haven’t felt this way since middle school | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

baepsaesbae · 3 years ago

Text

None of Your Business

Pairing— Jung Hoseok x reader

Genre— SMUT, enemies to lovers au, business/professional life au, slight angst, slight fluff, mutual pining bc im a slut for that

Warnings— inappropriate workplace behavior, explicit unprotected sex, face sitting, slight biting, one (1) butt slap, dirty talk, swearing, switch!Hoseok, Hoseok being a god damn nuisance, (also I’m not a business person so if you are and I state inaccurate/dumb things I apologize in advance)

Word Count— 8.9k

Summary— You have a shot at attaining a huge promotion at your company. The only problem standing in your way is the same one that annoyed you in college. Jung Hoseok. How will you manage to spend an entire weekend at a conference juggling impressing your supervisors while simultaneously battling Hoseok?

A/N— This super cool banner was made by the one and only @kimtaehyunq, thank you so much! Please let me know what you guys think. Feel free to leave a comment or send an ask!

The business world has always been mercilessly cutthroat; that’s one of the first things business students learn when they enter college. The competition to get an internship at a top company was fierce. Recruiting has to start at least a year in advance if you even want to give yourself a chance.

Luckily for you, you were the top student in your program. Well, one of the top students. Over the past four years, your position had been flip flopping with some surprisingly competent bonehead who annoyingly plagued your life.

“Excited to be graduating this semester, ___?” an all too familiar voice interrupted your studying.

“Excited to graduate as top of the class? Yes, of course,” you replied coldly.

“Top of the class? That’s a little presumptuous, don’t you think?” the handsome boy sat on your table.

“I think it’ll be pretty much set in stone after this last final,” you returned your attention to your notes.

“Well, even if you’re number one, I think experience matters a lot in this field,” the boy refused to leave you alone.

“Then it’s a good thing I did an internship with one of the top companies over the summer,” you glared at him.

“Oh yeah, how could I forget about the internship that you stole from me?” the boy pouted.

“I was obviously more qualified. And how could you say that when you stole my opportunity to go on a study abroad trip with my favorite professor last Spring Break? I’m still furious that he chose you over me solely because you were sleeping with his daughter,” you retorted.

“That was a coincidence! I don’t know how many times I need to tell you that,” he tried to defend himself.

“Whatever. Do me a favor and leave me alone, Hoseok. Hopefully today will be the last time I’ll ever see you.”

“That’s kind of sad to think about. Who else will get under my skin and annoy me every time they open their mouth?” Hoseok bantered, “Also, I told you to call me Hobi.”

“That would imply that we’re on friendly terms. I don’t like lying, Hoseok.”

“Fine. Good luck on that last final. See you around,” Hoseok hopped off the table and patted your head.

“Don’t touch me,” you grumbled as he walked away.

That was five years ago.

The company that you interned with gave you a job offer immediately after graduation. Quickly moving up through the ranks proved to be an easy feat since your tenacious nature made you the ideal employee.

You were currently waiting outside of the CEO’s office. Seconds felt like hours as you mindlessly bounced your leg. It was eerily silent, and all you could hear were the click clacks of the receptionist’s keyboard as she worked. You looked around at the bleak décor that was a sorry excuse for modernism as you racked your brain. Were you in trouble? Did something happen? You were summoned up for a meeting but had no clue what it was going to be about.

Once you were finally called in, you were greeted by both the CEO and VP of the company.

“___, please take a seat,” the CEO politely smiled, “As you know, I am getting old. I am unmarried, so therefore I have no one to oversee the company after I’m gone. The executive council and I have been looking for people to fill my shoes. Or at the very least, take a seat on the executive council if one of them were to take my place.”

“Your numbers have been exceptional this month,” the VP chimed in, “And every month prior. After much deliberation, your name has been cast into the lot.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Being a member of the executive council at your age was almost unheard of.

“There is one other candidate that has also been hand selected at the other branch. You both are to attend a conference in which you will mingle with executives from other companies. There will also be a time in which you will pitch an idea to me on how to make this company better,” the CEO continued when he saw your loss for words.

“First and foremost I would like to thank you for this opportunity. I will do my best to live up to your expectations,” you bowed to show your gratitude.

“Perfect. The conference is in two weeks. I believe that should give you ample time to prepare your presentation,” the VP shook your hand.

After shaking hands with the CEO, you turned to leave. However, something was nagging you.

“May I ask who the other candidate is?” you inquired.

“Jung Hoseok from the northern branch,” the VP answered without missing a beat.

“Ah,” your brain exploded.

“Do you know him?” the CEO asked.

“We went to college together. I know of him,” you said curtly.

“Well you’ll finally get your chance to meet him. I’ve heard he’s very popular with the ladies at his branch. That’s not pertinent to his skills; however, you can’t blame an old man for wanting to know the gossip of his own employees,” the old man chuckled.

“Of course,” you smiled politely as you excused yourself from the office.

Jung Hoseok? That douchebag? Just your luck to run into him again (to fight for the next step in your career no less!). You think back on all the run ins you had with him during your collegiate days. Nothing but irritating memories of the two of you competing for the top spot came to mind.

Whatever. It didn’t matter who the other candidate was. You had to get to work and come up with a brilliant plan that will impress the CEO. You brushed the thought of Hoseok aside. It had been a couple of years, maybe he wouldn’t even remember you. There’s no need to stress out over something so trivial.

The weekend of the conference had finally arrived. You were instructed to travel together with Hoseok. You waited alone at the airport terminal. If you were lucky, Hoseok wouldn’t show up at all. You weren’t.

“___!” Hoseok called out your name in a sing songy voice.

“Hello Hoseok. Glad to see you haven’t changed,” you were already irritated.

“How are you? It’s been so long. You look great!” he went in for a hug but you turned away.

He stood awkwardly with his arms in the air for a second until he bounced back. He took the seat next to you and began chatting. You answered his list of questions apathetically.

“Did I do something to offend you?” Hoseok finally asked.

“I just think it’s funny that even after all these years, I still have to compete with you,” you retorted.

“Still hung up on that? It doesn’t even matter anymore. We got good jobs and now we’re here. Together! Isn’t that cool?”

“No, not at all. Although I guess it will be nostalgic coming out on top once again,” you smirked.

“Your competitive nature always amused me. You’re so cute when you lose,” Hoseok teased.

“I never lost to you,” you gasped.

“That’s not what that one study abroad trip with Professor whatshisname says,” he cooed.

“Professor Namjoon! You knew he was my favorite, you prick. At least I graduated as top of the class with honors,” you argued.

“My GPA was off by thousandths of a point. That doesn’t really bother me. But I’m glad you have something that makes you happy,” Hoseok shrugged.

‘This is gonna be one long fucking weekend’, you thought.

The flight was short and pleasant since Hoseok left you alone. You wanted to see as little of him as possible during this trip. You intended to get that promotion no matter what.

After the plane landed, the two of you made your way to the hotel that was hosting the conference.

“Hi, last name ___ and Jung?” you smiled at the hotel concierge.

“Ah yes, you guys are here for the business conference?” the concierge asked.

“Indeed we are!” Hoseok chimed in from behind you.

“Alrighty, I got you guys all checked in. Enjoy your stay!” the concierge handed you a singular set of keys.

“Oh, I’m sorry, there must be a mistake. We’re in two separate rooms,” you politely tried to hand back the keys.

“The reservation is for a singular suite,” the concierge explained.

“Probably cheaper that way,” Hoseok reasoned while nodding.

Your fake smile faltered for a second. How the hell are you supposed to spend an entire weekend sharing a room with the most despicable person on the planet?

At least the hotel itself was grand. There was no way you’d ever be able to afford to stay in such a swanky place. The lobby was decorated with ornate marble pillars that were laced with gold trimmings. It even had a fancy fountain in the middle to greet incoming guests, which you thought was a bit overkill.

“Excited to sleep with me, princess?” Hoseok teased, obviously picking up on your annoyance.

“Fuck off. Stay the hell away from my bed and my things,” you spat.

“Who’s to say that you won’t be able to stay away from my bed?” he smirked.

“You wish,” you rolled your eyes as the elevator finally stopped on the top floor.

You led the way to your shared suite with Hoseok. The trip was exhausting; you couldn’t wait to take a nap on your large luxurious bed that was probably topped with Egyptian cotton (one can dream).

You immediately dropped your bags on the side of the room and flopped onto the bed, shutting your eyes.

“Interesting,” Hoseok said.

You ignored him.

“Very interesting,” he continued.

“What? What is so interesting?” you sat up and glared at him in frustration.

“Take a quick glance around the room,” he suggested.

Your heart sank, “No fucking way.”

You loved this trope in fanfics, but in real life? Fuck no, not with this asshole. Yes, there was only one luxurious king sized bed in the room.

“Well, looks like you're going to sleep on the floor,” you smiled sweetly at him.

“The bed is huge, we can definitely share,” Hoseok argued.

“I think the fuck not,” you dropped back onto the bed, “I’m sure you’ll whore your way into someone else’s bed each night anyway.”

“I don’t think I need to, not when I’m already sharing a bed with you,” he flirted.

“Bite me, Hoseok,” you sighed, not in the mood for a tit for tat.

“Are you into that? I’d happily oblige,” he responded as he sat on the other side of the bed.

“I’m afraid that’s confidential information that you are not privy to,” you huffed, turning away from him.

“Are you really going to make me sleep on the floor?” he asked quietly.

“Would you listen to me if I said I wanted you to?” you were curious to know.

“Look, I’ll admit that I can be an asshole, but I’m not a creep. If you’re really not comfortable with sharing a bed with me I’ll sleep on the floor. All I’d ask of you is to spare me a pillow.”

There was a short silence as you mulled over your options.

“Fine, we can share the bed. But I demand a pillow divider to be set between us,” you caved.

“Wahoo! Thank you so much for your generosity, ___. Do you want to use the bathroom to get ready for bed first, or shall I?” Hoseok celebrated.

“I’ll get ready first,” you lazily rolled off the bed and trudged to the bathroom.

You were so tired that you missed hearing Hoseok’s soft chuckle as he watched you stumble to the bathroom. He patiently waited for you to finish before it was his turn to get ready for bed. You were sound asleep by the time he was done.

The blankets were haphazardly sprawled out on your side of the bed. One leg was under the covers while the other was completely exposed. Your mouth was agape with a bit of drool seeping out, and your shirt lifted up to expose some of your tummy.

Hoseok smiled at the sight. Never in a million years did he think he’d ever be lucky enough to see you like this. He pulled down your shirt in an attempt to make you look decent, but there was nothing he could do about your drooling. He tucked you into the sheets properly, making sure that the blankets covered you up to your neck.

He settled into his side of the bed. You forgot to put up the pillow divider. Hoseok stared up at the ceiling, unable to sleep. He turned over to face you in an attempt to get comfortable.

‘She looks so sweet. Almost cute,’ Hoseok thought.

He quickly brushed the thought aside. You were his rival, and have been since the first day of college years ago. He sat up and created a pillow barrier. Bickering with you first thing in the morning was the last thing he wanted.

The first day of the conference was filled with attending various meetings while attempting to make as many networking connections as possible. You got up early and left the room before Hoseok was even awake. The less time spent with him, the better.

Of course, completely avoiding him was impossible. You were to sit with your respective company during the meetings and presentations. The VP sat between you and Hoseok, while the CEO switched between sitting on either side. You were thankful for the separation, but nervous nonetheless.

The CEO would occasionally lean over to ask you questions about the presentations, and he intently listened to your responses. The VP would merely look over occasionally to give you a smile or wink; he acted more like moral support. You knew the entire weekend would practically be an interview, but you underestimated how anxiety inducing it would be.

The higher ups finally left you alone when lunchtime came around. You picked up your lunch in the hotel’s decadent ballroom that had been turned into an eating area. You scouted an empty table in the far corner of the room in the hopes of finding some peace and quiet.

Hoseok had other plans. He saw you sit down at the table and happily followed you.

“Hey there buddy!” he greeted you as he sat down.

“Shouldn’t you be networking with new people?” you rolled your eyes at him.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he retorted as he took a bite of his sandwich.

“I’ve been doing that since before you were awake. I think I deserve a break,” you replied.

“I forgot that you’re quite the hard worker. I couldn’t have asked for better competition,” he said.

“Was that a compliment?” you asked with an amused grin.

“Yeah, and it’s the only one you’ll ever get from me. Is your pitch to the CEO ready?” Hoseok inquired.

“It has been. And no, I’m not going to tell you what it is,” you proudly answered.

“Oh c’mon! Mine is ready too! You’re a damn fool if you think I’m gonna steal your idea. I’m just curious,” he pouted.

“Fine. I’ll tell you if you tell me yours first,” you offered.

“So distrustful,” Hoseok feigned offense, “Okay, so I think offering higher bonuses for working overtime would be a good start. There could even be competitive bonuses in each department for the person who gets the best numbers that month.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” you said at first, “But don’t you think that would just create more animosity between coworkers?”

“I think competition is a healthy motivation factor. It worked for me in college,” Hoseok defended his idea.

“Everyone is competitive in college. Especially in the business schools,” you argued.

“Yeah, but not everyone is you,” Hoseok stated.

“Excuse me?”

“Honestly, I probably wouldn’t be here today if you weren’t always on my ass,” he admitted, “Being your rival was kinda fun. You got flustered so easily, it was almost cute.”

“I do not get flustered easily! Plus, it was always you who was on my ass,” you huffed.

“I see that you still do,” Hoseok laughed, “But seriously. The universe brought us together again so I guess it’s telling me to thank you.”

“That’s uncharacteristically nice of you to say,” you looked away from him to hide your reddening cheeks, “You pushed me too, so thanks for that...I guess.”

“Mhm, no problem buddy. I’ll see you in the next presentation room,” he got up to leave.

“Wait Hoseok!” you called after him.

“Yeah?” he turned around quickly.

“I didn’t tell you my idea--”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s brilliant,” he winked before walking away.

The rest of the day passed by quickly. You retired to your room, exhausted from all the forced socialization. Your mind was stuck on what Hoseok said earlier. Maybe he wasn’t as big of an asshole as you thought. Perhaps you mistook a friendly rivalry for toxic competition.

You were sprawled out across the bed in your pjs when Hoseok entered the room.

“Are you gonna sleep like that?” he asked.

“You’re gonna have to forcibly remove me from your side if you want it that badly,” you replied with your eyes still closed.

“That’s fine,” Hoseok said as he abruptly rolled you over to your side.

“Hey!” you squeaked out in protest.

“It was either that, or I laid on top of you and suffocated you.”

“Hmph,” you let out a displeased noise.

“Oh my god, you’re so bratty. How old are you?” Hoseok chuckled.

“Old enough to know that you’re a meanie,” your response was muffled by the pillow you buried your face in.

“Sorry I’m a what?” Hoseok teased.

“A meanie!” you quickly got up and slammed a pillow into Hoseok, catching him by surprise.

“I’m the meanie? You just pelted me with a pillow!” he cowered away from you.

“And I’ll do it again!” you threatened.

“I don’t think so,” Hoseok suddenly lurched forward, tackling you back onto your side of the bed.

You’re both laughing at this point. Seeing Hoseok up close and personal made you realize how handsome he truly was. Had he always been this attractive? Hoseok’s cheerful laugh echoed throughout the room as he loomed over you, pinning you down.

“I’ll get off if you promise not to hit me with a pillow ever again,” Hoseok tried to say in a serious tone, but his smile betrayed him.

“Sorry, I can’t make such a ridiculous promise,” you sassed.

“God, you really are so bratty. Kinda cute, kinda naughty,” Hoseok tsked.

“There’s nothing you can do about it,” you stuck your tongue out at him.

Hoseok leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Oh, I’m sure there’s something I could do.”

That sent chills down your spine. This was perhaps the most intimate moment you’ve shared with someone in a long time.

“Keep dreaming then, lover boy,” you said. Truth be told, just that one sentence turned you on, but you couldn’t let him know that.

“As you wish,” Hoseok released you and retreated back to his side of the bed.

“Maybe you aren’t as big of an asshole as I remembered,” you chuckled.

“You thought I was an asshole?” Hoseok laughed.

“I did. Maybe I still do. Not that it matters, we’ll never see each other again after this stupid conference.”

“That’s not true,” Hoseok disagreed, “I’ll be on the executive council, so you may see me from time to time.”

“I like the confidence. Too bad it’s in vain,” you teased, “I’m going to bed. Our day starts early tomorrow.”

“Our?”

“The. The day starts early tomorrow. Just go to bed Hoseok,” your turned over to conceal the faint smile on your face. Maybe he wasn’t so bad afterall.

The second day of the conference started off as boring as the previous day. The various presenters droned on about different strategies regarding the improvement of a company with a plethora of charts and numbers to back it all up. The CEO wasn’t as talkative today to either you or Hoseok. The VP still made his reassuring gestures to you, flashing smiles and winks here and there.

“Can I see you privately after the last morning presentation?” the VP whispered to you.

“Yes, of course!” you excitedly answer. Currying the VP’s favor may come in handy later.

After the last presentation, the VP discreetly led you to a vacant corner. His tone became serious as he began to speak.

“The CEO discussed his initial thoughts with me last night. I know I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but he’s currently leaning towards Hoseok,” he explained.

The news made your heart sink.

“I’d rather see you on the executive council, if I’m being frank. My pride is on the line since I recommended you,” his voice lowered, “However, I think there is a way to sway his opinion.”

“Which is?�� you eagerly asked.

“Someone might overhear here, meet me in my room in an hour,” the VP covertly handed you his room key.

He walked away without another word. The fact that the VP was on your side gave you a faint sliver of hope. The next hour of free time was spent frantically networking while your mind was obviously elsewhere. Every now and then you heard Hoseok’s voice, and just the sound of it spurred you on to make even more connections. By the end of it, your face began to hurt from all the fake smiling.

You were standing in front of the VP’s hotel room exactly an hour after your secret rendezvous. The door opened immediately after you knocked.

“You’re extremely punctual; that’s wonderful,” the VP observed as you entered, “Make yourself comfortable.”

You scoured the room to find a place to sit. Your uneasiness must have been obvious, as the VP gestured towards the bed.

“Thank you,” you said as you awkwardly sat at the edge of the bed, “What is your plan?”

“It’s quite simple actually,” the VP sat beside you, “I just need to get to know you better. That way I can give an authentic and flawless review to the CEO.”

“So, you’re going to conduct an in-depth interview?” you asked timidly as you noticed him scooting closer to you.

“You could say that,” he voice lowered as he rested his hand on your thigh, “We have about 45 free minutes remaining. I believe you should make the most of this interview, Miss ___,” he smiled slyly as his hand began to travel upwards.

“How dare you?!” you yelled as you abruptly pushed him off of you, “I’m going to report you to HR!”

“Then say goodbye to your promotion. You really think you were chosen just because your numbers have been decent? You definitely were not the CEO’s first choice. He didn’t even know who you were. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t even be here,” he explained with a shit eating grin.

“Then why the hell would you even bring me up to the CEO? Just so you could try and sleep with me?” you were enraged.

“Don’t blame me for wanting some eye candy to entertain me during this god awful convention,” he smirked.

“Fuck you, you fucking pig,” you spat.

“Ohhh feisty. I like that in a girl. If you leave now, you can kiss that promotion goodbye,” the VP called out to you as you stormed towards the door.

“And you can kiss my ass, and shove that promotion up yours,” you snapped, flipping him off before slamming the door behind you.

Tears welled in your eyes as you made your way to your room. You were absolutely distraught. Had all your hard work been for nothing? Had you been nothing but a pretty sight for men to stare at for the past five years?

You entered your hotel room to find Hoseok laying on the bed. You quickly wiped away your tears; you hadn’t expected him to be there. He appeared to be taking a nap. You watched his chest rise and fall slowly as you snuck into the bathroom. You freshened yourself up to the best of your abilities. Maybe a little power nap would help calm your nerves. Too bad Hoseok was taking up the bed. Fuck.

You left the bathroom to see if maybe you could curl up in one of the corners of the bed. Luckily, Hoseok was on his side of the bed. You set a timer for half an hour and slowly crawled under the covers. Your eyelids felt heavy as you closed them.

“If you wanted to cuddle you could’ve just let me know,” Hoseok’s voice surprised you.

“Well, I don’t. Leave me alone,” you responded.

“What if I want to cuddle?” he asked.

“There is an abundance of perfectly good pillows for you to use,” you sighed, then sniffled a little.

“Are you sick?” Hoseok asked with a worried tone.

“No, I’m fine,” you answered quickly, panicking.

“___, what’s wrong?” Hoseok was sitting up now.

“Nothing, leave me alone,” you turned away.

“If you insist, I won’t push it. Just know that you can talk to me if you need to,” he offered.

You heard him get off the bed. You pulled the sheets over your head to hide your face. You cried silently as Hoseok shuffled around the room, presumably getting ready to leave. Suddenly, he pounced on you.

“Hoseok! What the fu--” you cried out as he yanked the sheets off of you.

“Surprise attack!” he gleefully exclaimed.

His expression quickly changed when he saw your tear streaked face. You looked up at him with puffy eyes. You were too exhausted to hold your cold stare. Instead, you looked away in embarrassment.

“___, what happened?” he asked softly.

“It doesn’t matter. But congrats, you basically got the promotion,” you laughed in defeat.

“You spoke with the CEO?” Hoseok was shocked.

“No, with the VP. That stupid son of a bitch. He--nevermind. I blew my chance, so the job is all yours. I am almost positive that I am unemployed now as well,” the tears returned and you couldn’t stop them.

“Hey, ___, it’s okay,” Hoseok tried to comfort you, “If the CEO didn’t tell you himself, then you can’t be 100% certain.”

“I was literally only invited because the VP tried to get in my pants!” you blurted out.

“What?” Hoseok was dumbfounded.

“He just told me that I’d have the job if I had sex with him. Can you fucking believe that? How long have I not been taken seriously? This has been so demoralizing,” you let it all out.

“Aw, c’mere,” Hoseok pulled you up and gave you a warm embrace, “What did you say to him?”

“I told him to shove it,” you sniffled against his firm chest.

“There’s the you I know. You haven’t changed a bit,” he chuckled, “We can talk to the CEO together tomorrow about this.”

“Why would you help me? The promotion is basically yours because of this,” you sighed.

“I don’t really care for it, if I’m being honest. I’m satisfied with my job now. I don’t want any more responsibilities,” he answered while stroking your hair.

“Then why are you here?” you looked up at him.

“I only agreed to come after they told me that you’d be here,” he admitted.

You didn’t know what to say. Too many things have happened in the past hour alone.

“Don’t get it twisted, I was just curious to see how you’ve been after all these years. Plus a free trip is always enticing. Getting to share a bed with you has just been an added bonus,” he smiled.

Your timer rang, causing you to break away from Hoseok’s arms.

“Guess it’s time to go to more boring meetings. Yay,” Hoseok feigned enthusiasm.

“I’m gonna stay here. There’s no point in me attending anymore,” you stated.

“Nope, you’re going. I’m dragging you with me! You gotta show the VP that he didn’t frazzle you at all. Fuck that guy. Well, not literally,” Hoseok was pulling you out of bed.

Hoseok subtly made sure that you sat between him and the CEO the entire time. You caught him giving the VP dirty looks, which made you feel a little better.

You quickly excused yourself after the last meeting and tried to make a break for your room. Unfortunately, Hoseok prevented you from doing so.

“You got a date for the banquet tonight?” he asked.

“No. It shouldn’t be too much of a problem because I’m not going. Have fun with your date though,” you shook your head.

“Who said I had a date?”

“I’m sure women were basically throwing themselves at you.”

“You’re not wrong, but I turned them all down. I have my eyes set on one gal.”

“Lucky her, I guess,” you rolled your eyes.

“Indeed. Although I still gotta ask her,” he looked around the room as if he was searching for her.

“You better hurry. Isn’t it in a couple hours?”

“Yep. Alright, here goes nothing!” Hoseok rushed off, finally giving you the chance to disappear.

You let out a sigh of relief as the elevator doors start to close. However, someone’s hand shot through at the last second. Hoseok stumbled in as the elevator doors reopened. You groaned. Why can’t you escape him?

“Did she say yes?” you asked with an indifferent tone.

“Not sure yet. Will you go to the banquet with me?” Hoseok asked.

“Fuck off.”

“Alright, well she just said no. Ouch,” Hoseok clicked his tongue.

“Wait, are you being serious?” your eyes widened.

“If the word ‘date’ threw you off, then I’m happy with going as friends,” he proposed.

“I’m flattered, but I’m really not in the mood to party with random strangers.”

“You don’t have to. Just party with me. Why would I let you be sad and mopey all alone in a hotel room when you could be drinking free booze?”

“Is the alcohol is free?”

“Duh, it’s all being charged to the company. Plus dinner is served.”

“Ok fine, I’ll go. I guess I didn’t pack that stupid dress for nothing.”

“Let’s not allow a gorgeous dress to go to waste,” Hoseok agreed.

“You haven’t even seen it,” you suppressed a smile.

“Anything can be gorgeous if you’re the one wearing it,” he winked.

“Oh, shut up,” a small smile cracked on your face.

Hoseok was the first to get ready for the banquet. He wanted your look to be a surprise so he insisted on going first. You were beginning to find his weird yet endearing antics kind of cute.

You weren’t prepared when he came out of the bathroom. You were well aware that Hoseok was a handsome guy, maybe even handsome enough to model. However, you weren’t ready when Hoseok emerged in a grey suit with his hair styled to reveal his forehead. His radiance was comparable to that of the sun, and he only shone brighter when he smiled at you.

“You look good,” you tried to act cool.

“Thank you! I’ll admit I do enjoy dressing up from time to time. But who doesn’t, am I right?” he beamed.

You nodded as you hauled your things into the bathroom. After about an hour, you were ready: fully dressed, makeup done, confidence soaring. You had forgotten how therapeutic dressing up could be.

Your dress was a deep emerald green that was elegant yet seductive. It had a side slit that flirtatiously showed off one of your legs. The neckline gracefully outlined your cleavage while still remaining on the classy side.

“Holy shit. You look amazing!” Hoseok praised you as soon as you stepped out.

“I was only trying to match you,” you said shyly, trying to hide your flushed cheeks.

“I think it’s safe to say that we’ll be the most breathtaking duo there. Shall we depart?” he extended out an arm.

The dinner started out with boring speeches by people you didn’t care to remember the names of. Hoseok elected to sit at the table furthest away from the stage, which was an excellent choice. That allowed the two of you to chat the night away in hushed voices. You both had already gone through five glasses of wine by the time the speeches were finally over.

“The dance floor is now open! Enjoy the rest of the night, and don’t forget that there’s an open bar!” the MC shouted through the mic.

The lights dimmed and a disco ball lowered in the center of the room. People began to crowd the dance floor. You laughed with Hoseok as you both observed various awkward shuffles and sways.

“Wanna dance?” Hoseok yelled over the music.

“I can’t!” you yelled back.

“I’m sure you can! Let’s go!” Hoseok didn’t wait for a reply.

He dragged you to an empty space on the dance floor. The two of you began drawing attention to yourselves as soon as you stepped out. Two beauties were dancing in the open for everyone to see. You shyly swayed to the rhythm of the music and laughed at Hoseok’s silly moves. However, Hoseok began to move in a way that was absolutely bewitching. He looked like a professional dancer with the way he commanded his body to hit every beat. Hoseok had drawn a very large crowd as people began cheering him on.

You were amazed by his stage presence. You’ve always had a thing for dancers, and he looked downright sexy. The song ended and Hoseok gave his audience a dramatic bow, awarding him deafening applause.

“I didn’t know you could dance!” you shouted when he returned to your side.

“I like to dance in my free time! Did you like it?” he shouted back.

“I’ll admit it was sexy,” you laughed.

“You think I’m sexy?”

“Maybe I do,” you winked.

You had more fun than you expected while dancing with Hoseok. He made you feel secure, so you were able to let loose. You didn’t care what you looked like, as long as Hoseok was there with you.

The night progressed and you began to feel bold. A particularly raunchy song came on, as if it were asking you to grind on Hoseok. And that’s exactly what you did. You guided his hands to your hips as you grinded into his crotch

“You sure you wanna be doing that?” Hoseok spoke into your ear with a low voice.

“Absolutely,” you replied.

Hoseok spun you around and gazed at you intimately while he brought you closer into his body. Various body parts were rubbing against each other now. The sexual tension was palpable.

Hoseok’s hands were running up and down your body, and your mouth was dangerously close to his neck. The scent of his cologne was intoxicating. You couldn’t help yourself; you leaned forward to plant a soft kiss on his neck. His low growl was an indication that he liked it, so you kissed him again with more vigor.

“You’re going to have to stop,” he scolded.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Did I overstep your boundaries?” you were embarrassed.

“Absolutely not. But I can’t fuck you out here in public now can I?” he towed you off the dance floor and made a beeline for the elevators.

Thank god no one else was in the elevator, neither of you could keep your paws off of each other. Hoseok’s hands were unabashedly feeling you up and down while his crotch was slowly grinding into yours. Your arms were wrapped around his neck as you planted kisses along his sharp jawline.

Hoseok couldn’t stop whispering naughty things into your ear during the entire elevator trip up to your shared room. His lowered voice sent chills down your spine as he expressed just how eager he was to finally have you. You felt yourself getting wetter by the second.

“I wanted to strip off that dress the moment I saw you wearing it,” he cooed, “God, I can’t wait to see how beautiful you’ll look underneath me.”

“Hoseok, do you ever shut up?” you teased with a coy smile.

“I dunno, you might have to make me,” he played along.

“Maybe sitting on your handsome face will do the trick,” you said as you nipped his ear.

“Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

The elevator doors finally opened, and Hoseok quickly dragged you out. He immediately tore off your dress the moment the hotel room door was closed. You did him the same favor as you frantically unbuttoned his shirt to reveal his toned body.

“Why don’t you be a good boy and wait for me on the bed?” you suggested.

“Yes ma’am,” he complied, his eyes never leaving your body.

“Like what you see?” you asked, turning around slowly to fully show off the lingerie that perfectly complimented your body.

“You are so fucking sexy, ___,” Hoseok smiled in awe.

“I’m so glad you think so. You’re not too bad yourself,” you winked at him.

You finally joined Hoseok on the bed. You kiss his body from his abdomen all the way up his chest before stopping at his mouth. You took a second to relish the feeling of his plush lips against yours before he deepened the kiss with a ferocious intensity.

“Wanna try and shut me up now?” Hoseok lifted his eyebrows suggestively once the kiss broke.

“With pleasure,” you responded as you began to position yourself above him, “Wait, do you want me to take this off?” you gestured to your undergarments.

“No need,” he said before abruptly pulling aside your panties.

You slowly lowered yourself onto his face and stopped when you felt his breath on your pussy. Hoseok impatiently gripped your hips and pulled you directly onto his tongue. The sudden contact made you gasp. Hoseok didn’t waste any time getting down to business.

He flattened his tongue out to cover as much area as possible as he licked across your folds. He expertly flicked and lapped your pussy in the perfect places. Your legs began to tremble, and you had to grip onto the bed’s headboard for support.

You looked down to see the beautiful man’s face buried in your pussy; that sight alone was almost enough to bring you over the edge. Hoseok’s hands slithered their way up to your chest, where he began to twist and pull at your sensitive nipples through your bra.

“You taste--so good,” Hoseok panted out from underneath you.

“Should I get off--fuck!” you were interrupted by Hoseok sucking on your clit.

His mouth was heaven sent. Your body began to heat up and soon you lost the strength to hold yourself up even against the headboard.

You cried out as you came all over Hoseok’s face. His face was glistening with your juices as he smiled up at you. He seductively licked his lips to taste you again.

“Your turn?” you asked.

“As much as I wanna see your pretty lips wrapped around my cock, I think I need to be inside you more,” he replied as he repositioned himself.

He stripped off the rest of his clothing. You watched with admiration as more of his skin became exposed.

“You can take off the fancy underwear now,” he said once he caught you staring.

“You don’t want to see it anymore?” you fakeed a pout.

“___, you’re drop dead gorgeous in it. However, I advise you to take it off yourself because I won’t hold back. I don’t want to ruin your underwear, just you,” he replied.

Hoseok mixed in little nibbles while he kissed along your neck. Your voice dripped with bliss as you quietly moaned.

“I guess you do like being bitten, huh? What about this?” Hoseok licked your neck, causing you to squirm underneath him.

“I think I like that too,” you whispered, biting your lip.

You wriggled out of your undergarments, leaving yourself completely naked in front of Hoseok. You pull at the hem of Hoseok’s underwear, eager to see what he was packing.

You were not disappointed. Although he was well endowed, what he lacked in length was made up for in girth.

“Do you want me to use a condom?” he asked.

“I’m on the pill, and I’m pretty sure I’m clean. I haven’t been intimate in an embarrassingly long amount of time,” you admitted, blushing.

“I find that hard to believe,” Hoseok said while kissing around your face, “Since you’re so damn beautiful,” his lips found yours and led you into a passionate kiss.

His hips began to grind into yours, his dick rubbing against your bare pussy. You wrapped your legs around him, bringing him closer.

“Please don’t tease me,” you pleaded.

“What are the magic words?” Hoseok teased.

“Fuck me, Hobi,” you begged.

“Oh my fucking god,” he growled.

He slammed his hips into yours, not giving you enough time to adjust to him. The stretch was intense at first, but it soon turned into nothing but pleasure. Your euphoria grew as he rhythmically bucked his hips into you.

Hoseok spread your legs out as wide as you could go, giving him quite the erotic view that only aroused him more. You tried to stifle your moans, but were failing miserably.

“Don’t hold back baby, let me hear you. Show me how good I make you feel,” he leaned over to whisper into your ear.

You complied instantly, your moans resounding around the room. Hoseok’s position allowed him to hit you deeply with every stroke. Without a word, he pulled out of you and flipped you over onto your knees. He roughly forced your chest down, leaving your ass in the air for him.

“Your ass is so fucking fat,” he said as his hand connected with your bare skin, causing you to shriek.

He kissed it afterward while his fingers teased your clit. He realigned himself with your entrance. This new position was even better than the last. You could no longer hold in your moans even if you wanted to. Hoseok repeatedly hit your g-spot, and you could feel another orgasm welling up within you.

“Hobi, I’m gonna cum,” you cry out.

“Say that again,” he demanded.

“I-i’m gonna cum!”

“No, not that. That’s hot but call me Hobi again,” he chuckled.

“Hobi!” you said with an exasperated tone.

“Yes princess? Fuck, I’m close,” Hoseok’s movements were becoming more haphazard by the second.

“Hobi, right there oh my god keep going please,” you begged, “Hobi...ah shit!” you came undone.

It wasn’t long after until Hoseok followed suit, pulling out to cum all over your ass. He rolled off the bed to get something to clean you up with.

“How are you feeling?” Hoseok asked.

“Better. You?” you answered.

“Doing pretty well. I fucked the girl of my dreams,” he said gleefully.

“Shut up,” you playfully pushed him.

“I’m serious. I’ve adored you since college. I lived for your playful banter,” he began to explain.

“It wasn’t playful,” you interjected.

“Yeah, I know. But that’s what made it fun! All the other girls just wanted to be with me for my looks or whatever. None of them knew the real me.”

“And I did?”

“More so than most. You always pushed me to do my best. I really just wanted to be good enough for you. Kind of silly huh? I even dated that girl in an attempt to make you jealous. Which backfired since her dad was Professor whatshisface who took me on that trip,” Hoseok opened up.

“Hobi I...I’m so sorry. I was such a bitch to you back then. And now too I guess. My competitive side gets the better of me. I was always annoyed by how you were seemingly good at everything. It even irritated me that you’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen in my life,” you began to apologize, “Oh, and his name is Namjoon. Professor Namjoon.”

“Thanks for reminding me. I hate to admit it but he made me a little jealous. I wanted you to praise me the way you praised him. Anyway, things can change now that everything's out in the open,” Hoseok smiled, “You’re even calling me Hobi! I’ve been dreaming about this moment.”

“Was it everything you ever hoped for?” you joked.

“You said it when you asked me to fuck you, then you said it multiple times while I was balls deep inside of you. So yeah, I would say it was everything I could’ve hoped for, if not more,” he pulled you into his chest.

The two of you continued talking for what felt like hours while cuddling. You hadn’t been this relaxed in ages. You were nearly asleep on his chest when he stroked a strand of hair from your face.

“Tomorrow will be interesting, huh?” he said softly.

“I guess I still have to pitch my idea to the CEO,” you sighed softly, “What a waste of time.”

“It’s not a waste of time if you’re gonna get the promotion,” Hoseok reprimanded.

“I already told you, I’m not. The VP will make sure that you get it. This is good for you. Don’t worry about me,” you kissed his cheek, “We should get some sleep now.”

“Alright. Goodnight, ___,” he kissed your forehead.

“Goodnight Hobi.”

“Fuck, I really love when you say that.”

It was time. Time to pitch your idea to the CEO for no damn reason. You were beyond nervous, and Hoseok could tell. He tried to ease your nerves by giving you a firm shoulder massage as you both waited to be called into a small conference room.

The VP emerged, ignoring your mean scowl, and called Hoseok in to present first. Of course he would go first, no need to waste time hearing your proposal.

It was an anxiety riddled wait. You recounted the previous day’s events, which was a mistake because that only infuriated you. The whole situation was an affront on your character, and you will not stand for it. You debated giving the VP another piece of your mind at the end of everything.

“___, you’re up,” the VP called you after Hobi finished.

“You’re gonna kill it,” Hobi encouraged you, coupled with a pat on the back.

“This is pointless and you know that,” you sighed.

Hobi shook his head in disagreement. It was heartwarming to see how supportive he was being. Maybe it was due to the fact that the job was practically his already. It doesn’t matter now.

“Good morning gentlemen,” you greet them.

“The floor is yours, Miss ___,” the CEO responded cordially.

“I’ll keep it short and simple. I propose that the best way to improve the company is to shorten work day hours and increase PTO days,” you said confidently.

“Is that it? Can you expound on that?” the VP cynically asked.

“Yes, I’m so glad you asked,” you smiled coldly, “Studies show that employees are exponentially more productive when they are happier. Not only will the company become more efficient, but the overall company atmosphere will become more positive. Interpersonal relationships between employees and bosses will improve in an appropriate professional manner,” you glared at the VP.

“That’s a very interesting take,” the CEO said thoughtfully, “Do you have any suggestions regarding the actual work that the company does?”

“No sir. The company has been thriving, so I believe that the way things are running now are proficient. However, as a company, we should always be willing to listen to our employees’ concerns,” you stated.

“You’ve brought up interesting points to the table. As an employee, do you have any concerns you’d like to express?” the CEO asked.

“There is one pressing matter that comes to mind,” you stole a glance at the VP to see him shift uncomfortably in his seat, “I firmly expect that employee/supervisor relationships should be strictly professional.”

“Are you just giving us your opinion on office romances?” the VP sneered.

“I believe that trying to use intimacy as leverage is highly immoral, if not a fireable offense,” you held your ground.

“Of course,” the CEO agreed.

“Then said employee would simply need to file a complaint with HR,” the VP dismissed you.

“What better way to get my complaint heard than speaking directly to the CEO?” you smiled sweetly, “Sir, yesterday the man sitting beside you crudely suggested that I sleep with him in order to gain the promotion. He also alluded that all of my accomplishments are for naught, and that I am purely ‘eye candy’.”

“Is this true?” the CEO asked his VP in dismay.

“Of course not. She’s grasping at straws. Look how desperate she is to get the job,” the VP quickly defended himself.

“I am not lying. I am fully prepared to be fired on the spot. I cannot continue to work at a company that allows this kind of sloppy behavior to go unpunished. Thank you for your time,” you bowed and quickly took your leave.

You released a huge sigh as soon as you were outside of the room. Hobi rushed over to your side. Suddenly, you began to laugh hysterically. Hobi looked at you nervously, obviously concerned about your mental state.

“Isn’t it so funny? All my hard work had just been flushed down the toilet by a stupid man drunk on power. I love that!” you wheezed.

“___, ___ calm down. What happened?” Hobi inquired.

You told him what just went down. A smile crept across his face as you got to the part where you put the VP on the spot.

“I wouldn’t count yourself out just yet dude,” Hoseok shrugged, “All we can do is wait.”

“Yeah, I’ll be the first one to congratulate you on your new job. Then I’ll begin my search for a new one,” you gave him a thumbs up.

The VP stumbled out of the room and angrily stomped towards the both of you.

“You fucking bitch! Who do you think you are? Do you even know what you’ve done? I know people. I’m gonna make sure your life is hell!” he yelled at you.

“That’s enough! You have been dismissed. I do not want to see your face around here again. Clean out your office on Monday,” the CEO ordered, “Would the both of you please follow me back into the room?”

You both timidly followed him, curious as to what he had to say.

“I apologize on behalf of the company for this incident. This isn’t the first time a complaint has been filed against him. Unfortunately, he always told me that they were just futile grasps for leverage and I foolishly believed him. However, his loss is your gain,” he smiled, “How would you like to be my new Vice President?”

You were agog. Hoseok’s eyes widened as he stood beside you.

“Surely there are more qualified people,” you stammered in disbelief.

“There definitely are. But none of them are what this company needs. It takes a special person to have their rival pitch all the reasons why you are a better candidate than they are,” the CEO happily nodded.

“I- he what?” you cast a surprised look at Hobi.

“Oh yes. He spent all his time highlighting your best qualities as an employee. It was quite a shock,” the CEO smiled.

“I will humbly accept your offer. Thank you so much sir, I will work even harder!” you bowed gratefully.

“That brings me to Mr. Jung. The position on the executive council is yours, if you want it,” the CEO offered.

“If the offer is unopposed, then I have no choice but to accept. I will do my best!” Hobi joined in your bowing.

“Wonderful! It’ll be refreshing to see some lively young faces at those atrocious meetings,” the CEO laughed, “Oh, and one more thing. The two of you will have to relocate to the main branch, I hope that’s okay. I look forward to working with both of you.”

You both nodded gleefully. After the CEO dismissed the pair of you, the trip back up to your hotel room was nothing but joyous. It was like you were in a dream that you never wanted to wake up from. You even pinched each other to make sure it was all real.

“I can’t believe you were advocating for me,” you hugged him.

“You deserve it. Your impressive diligence should not go unrewarded,” he squeezed you tighter, “Plus, this ended up being pretty sweet! Congratulations to both of us!”

“We need to go out to celebrate!” you wiggled.

“Yes! Let me take you out,” Hobi tackled you onto the bed.

“Where shall we go?” you playfully ask.

“Maybe we should go explore our new city together?” he suggested.

“Our?”

“Yes, our. And when I say I’m gonna take you out, I mean as a date. Because I want to date you. And have been wanting to for years,” Hoseok charismatically emphasized.

“I’m looking forward to starting this new chapter of my life with you then, Mr. Jung Hoseok,” you press your forehead against his.

“Imma be all up in your bidness girl,” he joked.

“Your business is my business now loser,” you teased back.

Looks like all that hard work had paid off, and there’s no better reward than finally being with Jung Hoseok.

#bts smut #bangtanarmynet #btswritingcafe #btscreatorscorner #ksmutclub #jung hoseok smut #bts angst #jung hoseok angst #bts fanfic #jhope smut #jhope angst #kpop fanfic #jhope fanfic #jung hoseok fanfic

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yuzukult · 4 years ago

Text

drive safe (m) || bbh x reader

title: drive safe pairing: baekhyun x reader genre: brothersbestfriend!au, chanyeol!olderbrother, romance warnings: slight rated 18+ scene, but it’s short and poorly written words: 12.4k prompt: simply put, you’ve been crushing on your brother’s best friend for the longest time but he hasn’t seen you in a while... and you’ve grown. notes: needed something different to write :) please enjoy... i did another brother’s best friend au bc i just love baekhyun in that kind of au lmao... I FINALLY UPLOADED!!!

He was heavily intoxicating. From the whiff of the cologne he wears to the way his lips look, so tempting and plump, all the way to the sweet melodic laugh that escapes from his throat, hand on his toned chest to contain himself.

This man was beautiful—correction— is beautiful, and has always been since you’ve laid your eyes on him.

You recall those days staying in the living room until the late hours of the night; coffee table filled with loose papers and opened textbooks to cram in for your exams, room lacking a desk for you to work on. Your brother would trail into your home once the street lights turn on, friends joining him occasionally, none capturing your attention until you met him one night.

Mocha eyes that sparkled under the dim lights at the front steps, caramel hair that looked so unbelievably soft, that you had to restrain yourself down from asking him to just let you run your fingers through those locks. Jawline chiseled, cheekbones high, and ears flushing coral when he gets embarrassed—he was just breathtakingly beautiful. And when he leans over to see what you’re currently engrossed in, supple cheeks raising as high as the sky from his smile, teeth pearly white and exposed, his gentle voice hypnotizes you to the point that you almost miss when he says his name.

“I’m Byun Baekhyun.” How the hell is he so pretty? “You must be Chanyeol’s little sister.”

Your Cloud 9 experience disappears at the sound of your brother’s name. It’s like he loves to burst the bubble of any type of happiness your way. He never fails to ruin things for you.

Then again, that was back when you were 16 and he was 22. He was in college, finishing up the remaining time he had left while you were just a mere high school student—not to mention that you were also his best friend’s little sister. This time, you’re 22 and he’s the 28 year old, finished college with a career outlined for him and you’re the one trying to finish up the last year.

So when Baekhyun stands at the threshold of your parent’s house behind Chanyeol, mouth agape at the mere sight of you, he’s in complete shock at how much you’ve grown and changed in the past years. To say the least, he hasn’t seen much of you around since you turned 18... and well, he was regretting missing the glow up.

“Why are you looking at my sister like that?” Chanyeol hisses, pushing his friend’s chest back with a finger. “You act like you’ve never seen her before.” Baekhyun can only shake his head from his thoughts, clearing his throat. “I haven’t seen her since she left for college.”

A hum from you fills the air, grasping the attention of the two males. “I’ve been back every holiday, not my fault you haven’t been around.”

Turning on your heel, you make your way past them, slipping into a pair of random sandals at the front door before greeting the rest of your family members that begin to trickle in for the annual family dinner. Every year is dreadful, but this year got interesting just from Baekhyun’s attendance.

He was every high school girl’s wet dream.

And at the same time, dream boyfriend.

He’s cute yet he’s got this aura around him that just makes him so... sexy. You recall having high school friends over during those younger years and when Baekhyun and Chanyeol would walk through the front doors, your friends would drool at the sight of the boys. You couldn’t really agree on the Chanyeol portion of that (obviously), but your saliva would run rivers length long at the appearance of Baekhyun.

What was even worse was that both your brother and dad were horrible at teaching you how to drive. This was after you’ve concluded that you had a crush on Baekhyun, and Chanyeol suggests to your parents to hire Baekhyun to teach you how to drive a car.

“Dad, you and I both know that we’re way too short-tempered to teach her. Why not hire Baek?”

“I don’t see why not.” He nods in agreement, glancing over at your mom for approval, but she’s already so giddy over the moon from the sound of his name. “Of course! My second son teaching my daughter? Why would I have any issues with that? I’ll pay him, don’t worry.”

You want to die. “Why can’t you teach me, mom? We don’t really want to bother Baek and pressure him to teach me, right?”

“Actually,” Chanyeol grins; you swear every time he does it’s mischievous with a sinful plan hidden underneath. “Baekhyun is rather quite the angel and offered himself when I brought this situation to him. He doesn’t even want to get paid for it, I just offered.” Are you kidding me? Of course. Chanyeol wants you dead.

You think you actually die when you’re sitting in Baekhyun’s car in the middle of an abandoned supermarket’s parking lot. The two of you. No sign of Chanyeol anywhere, and it’s the first time you wished that your brother were there.

“Yeol isn’t coming?”

“No,” Baekhyun frowns, pulling the seatbelt over his body and locking it in; you mimic his actions to save yourself from getting lectured by the boy of your dreams. “He said he was either going to die from your driving or high blood pressure.” You exhale a heavy breath. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Afraid of being alone with me or something, little Park?”

“Uh, no.” You lie. “Can I start?”

“Sure, show me what you know.” Pressing a foot on the brakes, you push the key into the ignition and the car roars at the start. “Are you sure you trust me driving in your car? Isn’t this girl your baby?” There’s an afterthought of Baekhyun getting this car; almost begging Chanyeol everyday to go by the second-hand car dealership to admire this beauty—well that is if you consider a 2002 Lexus SC430 with the once jet black paint chipping off a beauty, then you’d be able to relate.

He nods, licking his chapped lips from the breeze that enters in before letting out a soft sigh. “She is, so... be careful, little Park, and drive safe. I trust you to drive her. I don’t even allow Yeol to let alone touch her, so consider yourself special.” Special. Can he not say such things while you’re already anxious about being in his presence, let alone his car!

Baekhyun teaches you to drive. Another great quality he has to add to the list from that occurrence: patience. He’s the one who opened the doors exiting out of your childhood in two ways: learning how to drive and learning what it feels like to like someone. It’s the first time you’re alone with him and you’ll never forget it. It only solidified your feelings for him.

And so when you’re ready to pick up your friends for the night that you first get your license, borrowing your brother’s car, your heart swells and bursts out of your chest when he approaches your window before you pull out of the driveway. Resting his arm on the door, joy tugs on the edges of his lips. “Drive safe, will you, little Park? I know I taught you well, but I still want you home safe and sound.”

Baekhyun might be the actual cause of your death.

“So, I heard you’re in for engineering? You’re finishing up your last year, aren’t you?”

You hum against the glass that’s pressed onto your lips, drinking in the cold water to cool yourself from the sweltering heat. Summer was supposed to be over now, but since you’re in the off-season, the weather was currently in its moods, switching on and off like a middle aged woman dealing with menopause.

Popping your lips after releasing the cup, you nod. “Finally going to grab my degree and get to do what I actually want to be doing.” You want to be out of this conversation with this... woman; you’re not even sure who she was and what relation she had to your family. A cousin, maybe? An aunt? What do you even refer to her as?

“Wow, amazing!” She exclaims as she clasps her hands together abruptly that it startles you. “My son would be a perfect match for you, he’s handsome, young...” Her voice starts to drift off at the same time that your eyes do, skimming to find your brother’s right hand man, and with your luck, his gaze is locked on yours.

He’s been watching you the entire time.

Baekhyun’s got a red solo cup in a hand, body leaning against the white plastic fence that perimeters your deck, hair pushed back to reveal his effortlessly beautiful forehead, and just the view of the first couple buttons of his shirt let loose, you felt your knees buckle. He bites his bottom lip in light of gaining your attention— one he’s been trying to snatch the entire afternoon. He’s standing besides Chanyeol, as expected since he is his guest, but they hang almost joined at the hip and just the thought of it makes you want to roll your eyes. But when his stare locks into yours and he mouths, “come over,” you’re immediately complying with his demands.

“I’m sorry,” You interrupt the strange woman, turning to face her. “Aren’t we related? Are you trying to set me up with your son... who potentially is my cousin?”

“Oh no! I’m just a family friend; your aunt invited me over!” With that, it only results in you clicking your tongue in disappointment, bowing to the woman apologetically. This was a waste of time. “I’m sorry, I’m not interested in being set up. Now, if you would excuse me...”

She’s probably shocked, from what you can tell on the little smirk and chuckle coming from Baekhyun as you make your way toward him, arm reaching out for a side hug. “My little Park, all grown up, aren’t you?”

“Well, I’m not sixteen anymore, so possibly.” You joke.

Talking to Baekhyun felt effortless. Almost as though he wasn’t that same guy you knew when you were growing up. The crush that had looked so out of reach, too cool and attractive for you indeed seemed like he was on the same level. Bantering came easy and there were more things in common between the two of you than you previously assumed. As if this entire time… you were surrounding him with an image of what you thought he was but it wasn’t solely who he had been.

“Ah, so you agree. You think you’re handsome.”

“Are you trying to quote a ‘Mean Girls’ line on me?” He asks, eyes squinting in your direction coltishly. Raising both your hands up in feigned defeat, you tug your lips into a straight line. “Oh, you caught me, copyright police. But I believe I merely paraphrased the movie.” He lifts his brows at you skeptically, arms crossed against his chest. “Paraphrased?”

“I’m sure that the line goes like ‘so you agree, you think you’re really pretty.’“

“Maybe not me, but I think you’re pretty.” Baekhyun grins cheekily. It’s not exactly a smooth line, you admit, but anything coming from Baekhyun inflates your heart, reminiscing the old high school feelings that stirred. “Mm, cute. But not exactly slick, Baek. Slimy, possibly.”

He seethes in disagreement. “Oh, little Park, I’ll have you know that I am not slimy; I am very much a gentleman.”

“Some gentlemen have a slimy side of them.” You clarify with a tilt of your head.

“I can assure you that I am not slimy but rather smooth and creamy.”

You grimace. “I’m not sure this conversation is going into the right direction.” Pausing for a moment, you cluster the fortitude to belatedly ask: “So, why haven’t you been around for the holidays like you used to? My mom missed having you around during the holidays.”

Baekhyun purses his lips, taking in a deep breath before speaking up. “Honestly, I’ve always had a girlfriend during the holidays. Otherwise I would’ve been over. Unfortunately, those four years that I haven’t been at your house meant four different girlfriend’s family homes that I’ve been to instead of yours.” Of course, Baekhyun couldn’t be without a girl on his arm. Just look at him!

“Mmm,” You buzz in a judging tone that sharpens his focus on you. “Disappointing. Anyways,” Jumping on the tips of your toes, you lean over to peek into his cup. “Whatcha got in there, Baek?”

“Wanna smell?” He brings the cup closer to your face, underneath your nose as your face twists at the strong scent of alcohol. “What the hell is that?”

He lets out a laugh at your expression. “Its just beer��“

“—that is definitely not just beer. What did you put in that?” Baekhyun brings the drink neighboring your nostrils again. “It’s IPA, sometimes they have weird smells to it. Sometimes it even smells like weed.”

You take a second glance at him, hesitant about trying this peculiar drink. You’ve had beer before— hell, you’d had tons of types of alcohol before, but you can safely say that IPA beer isn’t one of them. The liquid hits your tongue, barely any if you’re being completely honest, and you pull away. “Eugh,”

“Eugh?” Baekhyun imitates your reaction. “You don’t like?”

“Not exactly.” You frown, stepping back from the drink in his hand. “How do you even drink that? It’s such an acquired taste to enjoy it.”

“I guess I had a lot of different kinds of alcohol while I was in University, but IPA wasn’t one of them so I gave it a shot. Kinda like them now, not what we’re usually used to.”

“You make yourself sound like you’re old.” And with that, he taps your nose with the tip of his index finger. “And I am old. In comparison to you, little Park.”

That’s when it hits. Baekhyun can be sweet, kind, flirtatious, but one thing he can’t be is someone who could ever reciprocate feelings for you. Even if you’ve grown out of those braces, awkward puberty stages, and now an adult woman who is somewhat confident in your body— Byun Baekhyun will always see you as one thing only— Little Park, Park Chanyeol’s kid sister.

“Right,” You respond quickly, distancing yourself from him a bit and Baekhyun feels the atmosphere shift. “I think my dad needs me to help him handle the grill.”

“Chanyeol’s over there.” Baekhyun retorts back as abruptly. “Are you okay? Is it something I said?”

“No.” You reply, prepared to turn away and say your goodbyes to the older male, but his hand grasps onto your wrist, causing you to wrinkle your brows in confusion. “Baek?”

“Talk to me. What did I say? I like talking to you and it’d be nice to keep this conversation going.” You tilt your head in perplexity. “Okay. That’s great and all but I’ve had a raging crush on you since I was like sixteen. I’m kind of over this whole thing and I’m ready to keep you as my brother’s best friend that I had a crush on when I was entering the early stages of puberty—”

“Wait, you liked me?”

A look of incredulity spreads on your face. “You didn’t know?” He shakes his head slowly, gaze trailing to the concrete ground as if he’s trying to replay the history of your relationship, attempting to find the hints smeared throughout the years. “Well, I did, and if I’m being honest, you’re great and everything, but I don’t think I can muster enough courage to build a friendship with you if I still have these somewhat lingering feelings.”

Seconds before you’re escaping his hold, his grip tightens. “I didn’t know.” He reiterates your words, eyes finally meeting yours. “Why didn’t you tell me? And why are you telling me this now? And at your family reunion at that?”

“I... don’t know.” You shrug, body language signaling that you’d stay and his hand on your loosens. “I guess I’m tired of being called little Park and seen as Yeol’s baby sister when I’ve been pining over this unrequited love.”

“You can’t even say that when I didn’t even know you liked me.”

“Oh, come on, Baek,” Groaning, your shoulders dropping in exhaustion from this entire conversation. “You’re the epitome of every girl’s first crush. Not to mention that you get along with my family. Pretty much the easiest formation of a perfect guy for a girl who was just finally realizing how cute guys were.”

Baekhyun scrunches up his nose, placing his drink down on the table beside him. “You never made it obvious.”

“Oh please, I was very obvious. Even Chanyeol probably knew about it.”

“Don’t say that, I really didn’t know! I’m sure your brother doesn’t either.” Eventually, you’re able to step far back enough that he can’t hold you back anymore. “It’s fine, Baek, I totally get it. Enjoy your night here? I’m going to socialize a bit more—I mean help my dad with the grill. Whichever one first, uh, you get the gist.”

“Oh, wow, your son is... actually pretty good looking.” You’re back in this discussion with the same strange woman before, but this time with your blood-related aunt who was the one to convince the lady to talk to you in the first place. She’s skimming through pictures she has saved of him, yet again trying to persuade into talking to her lovely son. He’s cute, you admit. He’s a year younger but that wasn’t going to turn you away. His mom, however, is coming off a bit too strong and your aunt was trying her best to pull her back.

“See? I told you! I invited him to come join us tonight, maybe you’d catch him here!” The woman claps her hands together excitedly, over the moon that you’d agreed to her perspective. “Speaking of my lovely boy, there he is!”

And right when you face the direction she points, you see him—sun-kissed skin with his hair gelled back, tall as a skyscraper with the longest legs ever—this guy was built like a God. His eyes skim the room, but before they can meet with his mother’s, he spots someone approaching him and a smile tugs on the edges of his lips.

“Baekhyun, I didn’t know you knew this family?”

Of course he knows Baek.

They’re exchanging a handshake, and you’re flaring your nostrils because how small is this world? Regardless, you’re not going to let Baekhyun ruin your day. No way.

“Park Chanyeol’s my friend,” He responds, placing a hand in his pocket. “And you’re here for?”

“My mom is here, she asked me to come. Son duties, you know the drill.” The younger male shakes at his own statement before giving Baekhyun a pat on the shoulder. “I’ll catch up with you later. She wants me to meet some girl she thought was cute, so we’ll see how that goes. See you in a bit?”

Baekhyun nods in confirmation, letting him go and as he watches his figure make his way through the crowd, that’s when he notices something. You’re standing next to a middle-aged woman—and is... is Lucas walking toward you?

“Hey mom,” The towering man smiles, giving his mom a hug. “I’m here as you asked. I’m assuming this lovely lady...” The lady introduces you to her son, and he extends his hand. “I’m Lucas.”

Baekhyun is pissed. If you saw his expression right now, the smoke coming out his ears would’ve been conspicuous.

Lucas isn’t... the smartest guy you’ve ever met but at least he’s sweet and kind?

Momma’s boy, a big one at that and you find it charming that he’s so loving and caring towards his mother. A great son... however, as a boyfriend, you can already guess what the bigger fights were going to be about.

“So my mom tells me that you’re almost done school, how’s that going for you?” The two of you have migrated over to one of the picnic tables in the backyard, old and wooden yet still surprisingly structurally strong enough to hold the weight of multiple people... and thankfully without his mom. Least she knows when to leave you alone.

“Going good, I can’t wait to get it over with and start working. School is dreadful.”

“Oh, yeah, I know that much. That’s why I didn’t go to college.” No college, not a bad thing, you think to yourself. After all, it’s what you make out of it, right? “Instead, I chose the modeling path.” What. Well, it made sense. Lucas is the equivalent to a God in looks, and you were starting to wish you were exaggerating. Probably another red flag if you guys started dating—he’s too pretty for his own good and girls would probably be crawling at his feet and your level of jealousy can’t handle that.

“Modeling? That’s impressive! How’s it going for you?”

“Slow this season. But it’ll pick up eventually. I’m only twenty-one anyways. College was never for me so I figured anything else would be better. My mom always told me that I was handsome, so why not put what I already have to use, you know?” Other than the fact you wanted to correct him and tell him that twenty-one is actually peak age for modeling, you wanted to laugh a bit because he was convinced to chase after this specific goal solely from the compliments of his mother, his biggest fan who happens to be blinded by love. Either way, Lucas was lucky he was cute enough to be a model or this conversation would’ve been embarrassing.

“If you like it, go for it. I don’t see a problem with it.” A gust of wind blows in your direction and it makes you shiver.

He smiles. “I like that. Not a lot of people agree with the whole modeling thing. Even my ‘mentor’ kind of blows off the idea and pressures me to go to college to find a ‘real’ career.”

“Mentor, huh? Has he considered giving you trade school as an option?”

“And get my hands dirty? No way. These hands were made for modeling, not being someone’s plumber and playing with pipes.” An image forms in your head— Lucas... as a plumber? Oh... that’s... kind of hot. His voice interrupts your thoughts in the end, and you want to frown until you see someone approaching. “Speaking of my mentor... have you met Baekhyun?”

Baekhyun is standing at the end of the table; although he seems nice toward Lucas, you can feel the cold air coming from him. “We’ve met.” He says, words short and sharp. “Known her since she was a high school student.”

“Oh, nice, were you also her mentor, hyung?”

“What?” Baekhyun responds, the space on his forehead crinkles. “No I wasn’t her mentor, I’m a friend of her brother’s,” slightly annoyed by Lucas’ question. You can’t seem to place a finger on why he would be so... discomposed. “Have you applied to those colleges I sent to you, by the way?”

“Hyung, I told you that college wasn’t for me. I don’t get why you’re pushing me so hard.”

“Lucas, you’re not going to be young forever. What are you going to do when you’re 40? Be in those Viagra commercials? Advertisements where the elderly have ‘fallen and can’t get up’? Be realistic here.”

It’s Lucas’ turn to be upset, and rightfully so. “Hyung, you’re embarrassing me in front of my new friend. Who— by the way, is very supportive of my endeavors.” Baekhyun scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief and disapproval. “Supportive? Actually, give us a moment, Luc, I have to speak with her privately.” Grabbing onto your wrist, he tugs you from your seat, and you whimper at the aggressiveness.

“What the hell! Baek, let go, your grip is tight.”

Taking you inside the house, he walks through the hallways while dragging you when he sees the familiar door that leads to your bedroom, shoving it open before shutting it after the two of you are inside. He lets go of his grip. “Explain.”

You sneer at his demand. “Explain what? I didn’t do anything. You should be explaining because you dragged me here.”

“Just thirty minutes before, you profess your feelings for me and then you’re talking to some guy? What the hell is that?” You jaw tightens but you want to retain your emotions since his were spilling. There was never a good outcome if two people that were butting heads are acting upon only feelings.

So you walk over to your closet, sliding the doors open in search of a sweater but this only makes him infuriated. “Answer me— why are you looking through your closet while we’re having a conversation?” Snatching a hoodie off the hanger, you pull it over your head. “I’m cold. And you’re the one who is having a conversation. Well, not really a conversation, more like you’re lecturing me.”

“I am not lecturing you. I’m trying to read you and you’re not making it any easier for me.”

“What are you reading me for?” With the hood over your head with the end of your dress peeking out of the oversized fabric, he thinks you’re cute like this and he can’t help himself. Lunging toward you, his hands cup your cheeks and before you know it, his lips are pressed yours.

Baekhyun is kissing you.

Byun Baekhyun, your brother’s right hand man, your parents favorite non-blood related child, is kissing you. He has to force himself to pull away; he never thought that your lips would be so soft, and how right it felt in that moment.

Your fingers reach up to touch your lips and you’re left speechless for a moment before the words erupts from your mouth. “Did you just kiss me?” He’s just as dumbfounded as you are because all he does is nod in return. “Why’d you do that?”

“Look, I don’t know if I have the same exact feelings for you like you do for me but seeing you with Lucas in that way... pissed me off. I didn’t like it.” Baekhyun looks troubled because he’s letting his hands run through his chocolate locks that were styled previously. “But I think I like you. I never really thought anything of it until you said something... but maybe we can give this a try?”

You squint your eyes at him. “Baekhyun, this isn’t something you just ‘try.’ I don’t want to be lead on. You can’t just say that you ‘think’ you like me and walk in like you own me or something.”

“At least give me a chance to make this work. Obviously something happened back there because I was ticked off enough to embarrass my mentee in front of you.” He sighs, dropping his body onto your made childhood bed. “Poor kid.”

“Eh, he’ll be fine. He needs something anyway. I heard he lives in his mother’s basement, which is fine I guess, but despite not going to college, he has debt?” Baekhyun glares at you from underneath his long luscious lashes, but it’s light and he’s not upset anymore. “Don’t make fun of my mentee, I’m supposed to guide him!”

“Do better.” You retort before plopping your body beside him on your bed, laying down flat on the covers. “I’ll give you a chance. But we can’t tell Chanyeol. If it doesn’t work out, then it’s a secret and he doesn’t have to worry. If it leads to more... let’s just wait ‘til that time comes and we can figure something out.”

You can’t see him from where you are, but the sound of his voice is a dead giveaway that he’s smiling at your words. “I like the sound of that.”

“Aw, look at that, my best friend and my kid sister. Where were you guys?” Chanyeol looks a bit tipsy with his hooded eyes and crooked smile, but he’s only spilling elation when he slips in his socks and into the arms of Baekhyun when the two of you exit your room.

“Uh, I wanted to move my desk and Baek offered to help.” Yeah. That’s a good excuse.

“Mm, could’ve always asked me. But of course, Baekhyun here is an angel and loves to help out my family. Wouldn’t it be amazing if he was our brother?” The expression on your face cringes in disgust, the thought of Baekhyun being your brother and it’s like he reads your mind when he catches Chanyeol stumbling in his arms, pulling the taller male up. “You don’t want me as your brother, Yeol, that’s weird. Maybe I’ll date my way into your family,” He jokes, and you mouth ‘too soon!’ in his direction as he gives an unapologetic shrug shared with a smile.

“Who... her?” Chanyeol points to you with his chin, brows crinkles but releases with a laugh. “No way, man. She’s not even your type.”

“She can be my type.” The expression on Baekhyun’s face was pained, attempting to hold him up. “Little Park is pretty.”

“Mm, but she’s the serious type and you’ve had probably ten ‘serious’ girlfriends in the past four years!” He exclaims as you’re guiding the two of them toward Chanyeol’s bedroom, swinging open the door. “Little Park hasn’t even brought a boyfriend home.... heh, mom thinks she can’t get a boyfriend.”

You hiss. “That’s not true.” Chanyeol sticks his tongue out at you and you get a hit of vodka coming from his breath. “I think it’s true.” He sings, dropping his large frame onto the bed, eyes heavy. “Little Park needs a real boyfriend, Baek, not a fling!” Minutes later of Baekhyun trading Chanyeol’s jeans out with sweatpants, the two of you slowly close his door and heave out a weight breath.

“That was exhausting. He does this every year; it’s like my family is purposefully trying to get him to drunk to make me suffer.”

“Sorry,” Baekhyun mutters, hands slipping into the pockets of his jeans. “I should’ve been there to help you.” You wave him off, shaking your head in disagreement. “He’s my brother, it’s my responsibility.” Just when you’re about to walk away, he tugs on the hem of your shirt before you turn with a raised brow.

“You’re not... upset about what he said, are you?”

“About what?”

“About me. Having flings, never really having a serious girlfriend. About you, never bringing anyone home.”

You shrug. “I never wanted to bring anyone home in the first place. Doesn’t really matter to me.” Baekhyun chews on his bottom lip anxiously, fiddling with the fabric between his fingers. “I hope I can be that for you eventually.”

“Be what?”

“The one you want to bring home.”

Naeun is your best friend, biggest supporter, and also the most brutally honest person you’ve ever met. It’s in her DNA to be this way and although sometimes her candidness can hurt, you know she means well. So when you tell her about your Baekhyun escapades, her jaw is dropped down to the floor in awe.

“You’re kidding.”

“I am nothing but forthright.”

She smiles, tilting her head back in skepticism. “... No, you’re definitely playing me. There is no way he said that he likes you. There’s no way.” You pout. “Is it that hard to believe that a guy like him finds me attractive? Jesus, Naeun, hurt my feelings why don’t ya.”

“Girl, I’m just saying. He’s too hot and too much of a fuck boy... so him wanting to risk his relationship with his best friend to go after her sister... unless...” Her thoughts trail off for a moment before she comes back. “... Nah, never mind. There’s just no way. There’s a catch to this, I’m going to find it.”

“There’s absolutely no catch.”

“I’m just saying baby girl, watch out.” She’s leaning back on a wooden chair in your room that you had borrowed from the dining room set, swaying on the two legs dangerously. “Girls get their hearts broken because of him. And it’s because he’s such a nice boy about it that it makes them feel bad. Isn’t that crazy? What power he holds.”

“You’re giving him way too much power just from this conversation we’re having. Naeun, if you believe that he has that much hanging over all of us, then you’re enabling him to do so!”

“So you agree... you think he’s a playboy with a lot of power.”

“Naeun!” You holler, rolling your eyes at your friend. “He’s nothing but a guy that I like. We keep talking about him as if he’s this being that’s better than all of us when in actuality, he’s just a really nice guy.”

Naeun scoffs. “Who is really fucking hot, by the way. Don’t forget that.” She stands up and makes her way toward your closet, slinging the doors wide open. “Which means you should probably update your wardrobe too. You think a guy like Baek wants to date someone in hoodies and sweatpants all the time?” You purse your lips at your friend. “Don’t make me feel insecure about this, he already told me he likes me.”

“Okay, but what about the competition? Aren’t there girls lining up for him?” There’s silence for a moment, indicating that you’re almost lured into her trap before she sings your name. “Come on, wouldn’t you want to try looking cute for him?”

“I try!”

“Did you meet him today?” She asks. “Yes?” You respond questioningly. Why?”

“And you were wearing that?” Naeun gestures your attire. As mentioned before, just like your entire closet, you’re dressed in black hoodie and sweatpants. At least they matched, right? She grabs your hand and pulls you up. “You said you guys were going to meet tonight again, so let’s get you ready for that!”

If meeting Baekhyun required getting ready 3 hours in advance, you don’t know if you can date him anymore.

As planned, Baekhyun is parked at the end of the block waiting for you, shooting a text in your direction to let you know that he’s here. Slipping your phone into your bag, you heave out a heavy sigh of how tight this skirt that Naeun forced you into. “I thought I looked fine earlier,” you grumble to yourself before adjusting your blouse and snatching a jacket from the coat rack.

Attempting to sneak out of your house without gaining Chanyeol’s attention was hard. He couldn’t help being nosey. It was in his nature.

“Whoa, looking smokin’ hot for who?” Chanyeol exclaims with his arms crossed in front of your bedroom door. You groan loudly. “Can you please just leave and get out of my way? I’m trying to go out.”

Chanyeol looks astonished. “And with who? I’ve never seen you dressed like this before.” You push a strand of hair that gets caught in your makeup. “Honestly, I don’t know either. Naeun made me look like this.”

“You’re probably going to scare the guy away before you even get him.” You frown. “Let me figure that out tonight. So if you would excuse me—“ Aggressively shoving your brother aside with your hidden Hulk strength, he slams into the wall and winces as you made a run for it.

You want to cry. You felt ridiculous, and Chanyeol’s comment only made it worse. Walking up to Baekhyun’s car, you see him leaned against the hood of his car, skimming through something on his phone. He looks amazing in dark slacks and jet-black sweater tucked in them. He lifts his head to see you, jaw dropping in shock. Your legs were out for the world to see, shirt low enough for a glimpse of your cleavage and he can only gulp and clear his throat before stuttering on his words. “Whoa—I—“

You respond with a moan. “Do I look ridiculous? Naeun came over earlier and forced me to dress prettier, and Chanyeol stopped me before leaving the house and said I looked crazy. Please tell me which one it is so I can go back and do something about it.”

Baekhyun laughs. He laughs as if the situation you’re in is funny. “I think you’re always pretty. You just look even prettier today.” You chew on your bottom lip anxiously, shoulders dropping in doubt. “Are you sure? We haven’t even started the date yet and I feel like I ruined it.” He only shakes his head with a soft smile, walking over to the passenger door to open it for you.

When he’s sitting in the car beside you, he swears his throat closes up when your skirt hikes up in your seat. Warding off the sinful thoughts of you, he starts the ignition of the car, letting the engine warm up for a bit before driving off. The last time you’d been in this car was when he was teaching you how to drive; weekend after weekend, while just you and Baekhyun in this worn down Lexus, he stole your heart bit by bit. You never thought you’d find yourself in this situation again; somehow you were the one stealing his.

“Where are we going?”

“Dinner. I heard there was this really great Italian place they opened downtown. Maybe we can get dessert after?” He glances over at you to see your reaction, only regretting because you so pretty with the sunset behind you.

“That sounds good.” You grin.

That night, the dinner itself wasn’t the most amazing thing you’ve ever had, but the talks you had with Baekhyun were. There wasn’t a dull moment with him, he had stories to share that made you laugh until you’re almost choking on the pasta and by the time dinner was over, you were just glad that there was still dessert to look forward to.

“This place looks new.” You say, eyes sparkling with the countless of options listed on the menu mounted above. “There’s so many to choose from.” Baekhyun notes that although your eyes seem youthful and the smile plastered on your face supported that, everything about you wasn’t the same anymore. How’d he miss out on this for so many years?

You wave your hand in front of his face. “Baek, you good? Have you decided what you like?” He lets out a nervous chuckle, nodding his head. “Uh, yeah. Grab me the strawberry on a cone, will you?”

He slides his card to pay before you could even stop him, frowning when you hand him his cone as the two of you exit the shop. “I could’ve paid, you know.”

“I don’t really trust anyone who gets mint chocolate chip… so…”

“Oh, so you don’t. What’s wrong with mint?”

“Do you like eating toothpaste or something?” You slap his arm, and he winces, remembering that although you were small in comparison to him, your strength was impeccable. “Oh—shit, I’m sorry, Baek.”

“I forgot how strong you were. Do you lift or something?” His face contorts in pain, but he’s not in that much pain. “No, although, now that you mention it, I should probably get into it since I know I’d be so good.” Baekhyun winces. “How am I ever going to stand next to you? I’ll be living in fear all the time.”

“Speaking of, I heard you finally moved out of your parents place.” Licking your ice cream, Baekhyun has to look away or else these thoughts would creep up again. “I have. Want to come over after this? We can squeeze in a movie, and I borrowed something from Chanyeol the other day, so I can drop it off when I take you home.”

Bent over, reaching for the controller underneath the coffee table, Baekhyun swallows. His gaze drifts off to the ceiling, praying that you wouldn’t notice the boner he’s supporting right now. When did you grow up? He has to shake off the dirty things he’s imagining you doing right now.

“Here.” You slap the controller in the palm of his hand before adjusting your top. “Are you comfortable? Do you wanna borrow some of my clothes?” Lips jutting into a pout, you want to tell Baekhyung, yes, hell the fuck yes I want to wear your clothes and get out of this brutally uncomfortable skirt, but the words don’t leave you mouth and he can only smile. It’s like he reads your mind because he stands from the couch and enters into his room. Seconds later, he has a pair of sweats and a hoodie for you. Your favorite dynamic duo.

You’re barely 1/4th through the movie, Baekhyun’s arm around you with your head cuddled against his chest while wearing his clothes that smelled so good, smelled like him. This amount of comfort was never evident with any of your previous relationships, but something about Baekhyun made everything feel okay. Turning your head to look over at him, he’s breathing soundlessly as if he’s asleep, but his attention is all diverted to the television. His jawline looked tempting, skin smooth and soft, you bring your lips to kiss the bone.

He chuckles at the action, eyes down to meet with yours. “Yes?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“I should be the one asking you that.” He presses a chaste kiss on your lips before giving you one last look of confirmation. Crashing his lips onto yours, you welcomed him inside with your tongues knotting and sliding past one another, you hum against him. It sent a warmth feeling down your center and you wanted know if he felt it too. Pushing the blanket off your frame, you climb over his lap, swinging a leg over before pressing yourself down on him, his hands slowly making his way to your waist, hesitating as if he’s asking for permission. Hands forcing on his in invitation, he complies, pulling you close to his body.

He lets go of your lips, a lewd smack from your kiss separating. He’s panting like he’s just run a marathon, heart racing to the point that he’s afraid you can hear it. There’s a rush in him, excitement pumping through his veins and he’s never felt this before. You felt too much like home to him, and this was just the first date, how was he supposed to survive any more if you had him wrapped around his finger like this?

“I don’t want to go any further if you don’t want to. It’s our first date—Is it too soon?” He says, his voice meek and faint, the total opposite of how he usually is around you. Afraid he’d mess it up, afraid that everything that happened today wouldn’t happen again if he didn’t do it right.

“Please take me. I want you, Baek, I really do. I’ve been waiting for this since I met you when I was sixteen.” You sounded desperate, cheeks flushed in embarrassment of how intoxicated you were from his kisses. “Don’t make it sound like that, I’m sorry I made you wait this long.” He whispers before leaning back into the kiss, palm rubbing your hip soothingly before you begin to grind on him. The sight of you in his clothes brought the blood rushing straight into his pants that were starting to be uncomfortably tight.

Baekhyun made you feel like a princess that night—sprawled on his bed, arms wrapped around his neck while he peppered kisses constantly on your damp forehead, skins slapping as the headboard of the bed bangs against the wall. Soughing sweet nothings into your ears, nibbling on your lobes to help you reach your high, a hand reaching down to toy with your clit before your toes are curling, fingers digging into his shoulders while your climax was approaching. He had you in a trance, fully blissed out, and before you know it, you’re cumming, letting out your final moans and cries. It drag must’ve felt nice, because his hips are stuttering, losing it’s rhythm until he stills, long spurts of his cum splattering you walls.

He falls over, pulling you close and nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck, gifting you a quick kiss on your sweaty skin. “Stay for the night?” You nod.

You end up staying more nights with him.

Your presence meant more to Baekhyun than you ever knew. Those rough days where he’s at the office, he loves coming back to his apartment, seeing you in his dark home with only the kitchen light illuminating on the granite island with your books spread out with your notes and music blasting from your computer. There were some nights where he’d be home late hours and you’re snuggled in blankets on the couch, the only brightness in the room is from the television, shining on your face in multiple colors with you completely engrossed with what’s playing. It was his favorite part of the day, the thing he looked forward to the most.

The night he knew that he couldn’t ever let you go was when he came home just in time because you were taking out a tray of something from the oven, apron wrapped around your frame with a surprised expression on your face. “Oh, you’re back?” You sound shocked, mostly because you told him you wouldn’t be here tonight but yet… there you were.

“Not that I don’t love having you around, but I thought you said you weren’t coming over today?” Baekhyun asks, dropping his jacket on one of the dining room chairs. “And what are you making?”

You scrunch up your nose. “Honestly, sorry baby, I wanted to use your oven. Then I felt bad for using your oven without telling you, so I baked you banana bread as well. Then I lost track of time and I’m supposed to deliver these cupcakes to Naeun for her lacrosse team bake sale tomorrow.” Baekhyun chortles in amusement, wrapping his arms around you from behind before pecking your lips. “All good, baby.”

He doesn’t even care that you came to his house without a warning. He’s glad you’re there—Baekhyun had the expectation that you weren’t going to be there that night, so the drive home was dreadful, but just catching you in the act of using his oven… nothing made him happier. He’s not letting you go.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You hiss, eyes darting at him. Pausing from stuffing your personal belongings into your duffle bag, regret washes over how much stuff you’ve accumulated here. His place had too much of your things and having this fight alone was bringing in a lot of realizations. How could you get comfortable so easily?

Baekhyun sighs, fingers running through those locks that you had always dreamed of having your own in, but at this state, you’re fuming with anger. “You’re only twenty-two and my best friend’s little sister. There’s so much to life you haven’t seen yet... I don’t think you’re mature enough for me.”

“I’m not mature enough for you?” Shaking your head, you continue to fill your bag. “Ridiculous. I’m twenty-two, Baekhyun, not sixteen. Need I remind you that you also wanted this? I’m also not the one talking to other women while you’re with me— with me! You said you liked me. But the entire time, you had someone in the back burner, ready to replace me when it’s time.”

He says your name with another exasperated breath, feeling speechless. He doesn’t get to feel frustrated, you think to yourself, not today, not in this situation. “I do like you. More than you think, actually. But do you ever think of what Chanyeol is going to say or how he’d react if he knew? I’m feeling guilty, extremely guilty. You’re not just his sister, but you’re his little sister, which means a lot more. He’s getting suspicious of me sneaking around with some girl he hasn’t heard about yet.”

You’re fuming. Little sister this, little sister that. Every conversation with Baekhyun always seemed to lead to that topic—how young you were, and how experienced he’d been in comparison. “Who fucking cares? He’s my brother, he doesn’t get a say in my relationships. And who is he to you that he can decide yours?”

“He’s my best friend, one that’s been around for me almost forever. I can’t just go behind his back and date his sister, let alone sleep with her.”

“Then let’s not make it complicated any more. I’m leaving.”

He freezes. Why’s he suddenly so shocked? He was watching you pack your bags seconds ago, yet it’s like reality only struck him in that moment. Baekhyun reaches to grasp onto your wrist and you push back. “Wait, you’re not actually leaving, are you?”

“What do you expect me to do? Stay? After the way you spoke to me? What about when you called me ignorant and inexperienced? Too young for you? Should I list more things why you can’t be with me and for some reason you want me to still stay?”

“I-I didn’t mean it like that,” He says, stuttering in his words. “I still have feelings for you, nonetheless.”

“That doesn’t mean shit, Baekhyun.” You pull from his hold, slinging the bag over your shoulder before storming out his apartment. “I have some pride and dignity. I can’t just stay with someone who looks and speaks of me so condescendingly.” He doesn’t stop following you though, door left open as he chases you down the flight of stairs.

“Drive safe,” He says softly, watching your figure make way to your car that parks outside of the apartment complex, heart clenching at the sight of you walk away. “Please text me when you get home.”

“As if,” You scoff, aggressively opening the door. “Don’t expect to hear from me anymore, Baekhyun.”

He’s like every other guy you’ve ever dated, have ever been with. This guy—the one who you’ve always put on a pedestal and admired— wasn’t just a guy anymore, but rather any other one you’ve ever dated. He’d stolen your heart in your early years but in actuality, Byun Baekhyun was like any other boy. Disappointing and sleazy.

Respect and admiration, the two main characteristics you looked for in a man, and the one that you thought had them, didn’t end up having them. Tears were welling up into your eyes as you’re driving; sleeves too long that they cover your hands on the wheel, and you want nothing more than just to speed past these cars on the highway.

But you knew better than to let your emotions run wild. Yet the tears just don’t stop falling.

Age. Age was just a number. There were so many people that were the same age as you without the equivalent amount of experience as you held. Whether if it were more or less, the main point was evident: age didn’t matter. It’s what Baekhyun felt was a constant need to remind you when things weren’t working out or when it got tough. It had been frustrating. Maybe it was a good thing to have left. After all, what would it have been like if you had to tell your brother?

There’s constant dinging coming from your bag, and once the traffic begins to build up, you take your attention away for a brief moment to check it.

10 Missed Calls. 30 New Messages.

All from Baekhyun.

There’s an urge within you to want to call him back but you know better. If you heard his sweet, soothing voice over the phone, you’d unconsciously turn your car around and drive directly back to his apartment. It’s how it always was.

But from now on, it was different. You can’t put Baekhyun on a pedestal anymore, you can’t put him as this picture perfect guy for you. He wasn’t— he was human, and that was okay for you, more than just okay, but he proved at that very moment that maybe you weren’t right for him.

Another blind date.

You’ve been on countless of blind dates since you officially announced to your family that the guy you’ve been seeing wasn’t... well, you weren’t seeing him anymore. Because of this, your mom thinks that you’re bitter and lonely, fearing that you’ll never find someone. “You’re only twenty-two and can’t even keep a man? We have to start early while we still have time!”

Luckily, Chanyeol tried backing you out of this one but there’s no argument against your mother. So he suggests doing the matching. You pray he’s not trying to get back at you for stealing the last yogurt cup in the fridge back in 2011.

Getting into your ‘lucky’ signature black mini dress was a bit harder than usual— you want to blame it on the relationship weight gain but you admit that your healthy habits have been lacking. After sucking in a deeper breath, the dress finally zips. Smoothing out the crevasses on the skirt of your attire, you give yourself a last check in the mirror before giving yourself a grin and a thumbs up. “OK, I got this.”

The door bell rings; assuming it’s your date, you quickly slide open your closet doors to find your heels until a familiar laugh perks up your ears. It’s none other than Baekhyun.

“You... look like you were standing by the door waiting for someone and I’m pretty sure I made this a surprise visit.” Peering out into the hallway, you can see his figure standing at the door frame, dressed in a hoodie, ripped jeans, and a trench coat... why does he make it so hard to hate him?

Chanyeol shakes his head, standing aside for his friend to enter. “Jongin is supposed to be here sometime soon.”

“Oh, you made plans with him?”

“Nah, setting him up with my sister. I’m free for the rest of the night. You tryna hang?” Baekhyun gives Chanyeol a dazed look of bewilderment. “You’re... setting up your sister with Kim Jongin?” He nods with his lips pursed, confident with his response that his friend seems to question uncertainly. “Yeah. My mom has been on her case lately about having a boyfriend since apparently the guy she was seeing dumped her. She thinks that little Park has some personality issues and it’s going to take some time before she meets someone. I figured I’d give her an easy date, at least Jongin isn’t a dick like the past few guys.”

Baekhyun feels queasy. Were you really moving on that quickly? It was barely a week since he’d last seen you and the visual of you walking away that night haunted his days. “How long ago since it’s been since she and the guy broke up? Couldn’t have been that long, right? Why are you guys already setting her up on dates so soon?”

Chanyeol shrugs his shoulders. “Not sure. Why’s it matter anyway? Jongin is a nice guy anyway and could use some stability in his life.”

“That guy rides a motorcycle and races almost every weekend. You think he’s good for your sister?” His tone spilled in flabbergast. “You don’t think he’s going to influence her?”

“She’s an adult, she can handle herself. I highly doubt he would be influencing her though, pretty sure she would more than likely be influencing him.” Baekhyun can agree to that— after all, he’d fallen victim to that. But he didn’t like the idea of you being with someone else and he definitely wasn’t a fan of seeing you look pretty for a guy like Jongin. “Well, what if I took her out on a date?” He suggests.

Chanyeol can only let out a laugh, leading Baekhyun into the living room. “Yeah right, don’t kid around, Baek. My mom is strict about her looking for suitors; we’re looking for serious inquiries only.”

The doorbell finally rings. “Oh! I think it’s for me— I’ll get it!” Baekhyun’s head pivots to see you rushing out of your room, slipping into your heels the last second with a black leather jacket folded over your arm. He feels the breath stolen from his lungs.

“Oh. Hey Baekhyun,” You say, a weak smile upon your lips. “I got the door.”

Standing at the door with a loose dress shirt tucked in his slacks, with a couple buttons undone; Jongin’s sun-kissed tan skin is exposed from underneath, hair slicked back in gel with a bright grin on his face. “Hey, pretty.” Voice deep and smooth, goosebumps appearing on your arms. “Hi.”

“Jongin.” He startles you from behind, bumping you aside before giving his friend a handshake. “Taking little Park out? Per Chanyeol’s request?” Jongin only nods, and he doesn’t take his eyes off of you. “Yes, but... I did it willingly. After all, look how beautiful she looks.” Baekhyun snaps his fingers to regain his attention. “Where are you taking her?”

“Surprise.” He says nonchalantly, noting Baekhyun’s sudden possessiveness. “Where’s Yeol? Told him I’d say my goodbyes before I take her out tonight.” Saved by the presence of Chanyeol, you finally let go of the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Despite the height difference, Baekhyun was attempting to size up Jongin, although lacking a bit from the towering younger male. “Whoa, what’s going on here?”

“Nothing,” They both say in unison, but Chanyeol only chuckles at the sight of his two friends. “Well, thanks for doing this for me Jongin, I’m sure you made both mine and my sister’s night a little easier.”

“Well, drive safe when you go.” Baekhyun says through his gritted teeth. Words that were once so affectionate and caring now had a different meaning behind them.

Standing by the door with his arms crossed on his chest, Baekhyun scowls while Chanyeol leans against the frame. Jongin hands over to you the spare helmet on the backseat of his motorcycle (which by the way... hot) before hopping on. Settling comfortably behind him, he lifts up his arms and although Baekhyun can’t hear what Jongin’s saying, he already knows the words. Wrap your arms around me so you don’t fall off. Right on cue because your arms snake around his frame, gripping on as tight as Baekhyun’s jaw clenches.

The restaurant he takes you to is way out of your comfort zone.

There was a comment here and there from Chanyeol that Jongin was from old money, however there wasn’t much brought up after that. Where he brings you on your first date is evident of this; it’s lavishly decorated, dark lighting with a candle that illuminates just the table, freshly picked flowers from their own garden, linen tablecloths and napkins, and to top it off, a classical band plays in the corner.

“Wow... after telling me to hop onto the back of your motorcycle, I really didn’t expect you to take me here.” He lets out a low snicker, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “A beautiful woman like you deserves a luxurious date as this.”

Jongin is a gentleman. He pulls out your chair for you, opens the car door for you, and when there’s goosebumps on your arm and you shiver at the cool air blowing down at you, he’s observant enough without you saying and asks the waiter to turn off the air.

“Baekhyun Hyung seems like have a thing for you, doesn’t he?”Jongin asks, picking up his knife to saw his steak. “I saw how... protective he was of you.”

“Eh, just an instinct. He and my brother are close, so I’m sure it rubbed off.” You lie. It’s easier to lie.

Jongin isn’t convinced. “No, I’m pretty sure he was giving me daggers with his eyes. Like... boyfriend daggers. As if I was stealing his girl or something.”

“I’m not really anyone’s to claim,” You say, fork pushing your pasta around. This conversation wasn’t fun and you weren’t in the mood to be in it. After all, you were at this date because Baekhyun didn’t want to be yours in the first place. “Hence why we’re on this date, right? There’s no Baekhyun.”

But for the rest of the night, Jongin doesn’t let it go. He keeps bringing it up, as if Baekhyun is now his competitor and they’re both fighting for a mate.

You call it a night. Saying that you might’ve eaten something bad during lunch and it wasn’t sitting well in your stomach. So much for an easy date.

“You look... really stressed out dude. Maybe we should go out for drinks tonight or something.” Chanyeol suggests, stirring the sugar in his iced coffee with the plastic straw. “What’s up with you?”

He can’t get you out of his mind. He can’t go to bars, clubs, restaurants... pretty much anywhere; he can’t go anywhere because everything reminds him of you. Baekhyun only agrees to meet up with Chanyeol because he doesn’t want to seem any more suspicious, but it seems that showing up didn’t do much of a difference either.

“Can I ask you something? And you not be mad about it?” Baekhyun blurts, leaning forward in his seat with his arms against the table.

“Uh, sure.” Chanyeol responds, brows furrowed in confusion. “I guess I can’t really control my anger if you’re asking something ridiculous, but shoot.”

“No, I really need you to not be upset about it.”

“... Uh, okay, then I guess continue.”

Baekhyun takes in a deep breath and exhales, so deep that it takes him a while to recover in order to continue the conversation. “I... Would be upset if I told you that I might have feelings for your sister?”

Chanyeol raises a brow. “... Do you really? You’re not joking, right? Because that’s some sick joke—”

“No? At least, I don’t think I am.” Baekhyun says quickly, shaking his head. “Just... can you stop setting her up with these other guys?” His best friend takes a sip of his drink, cringing at the taste before opening the lid to pour more sugar into it. “Okay, I won’t anymore. So what are you going to do now?”

“You— you’re not mad about it?”

Taking a sip of the coffee, he nods in content before closing the lid. “Well, yeah, why would I be mad?” He pauses for a moment, eyes gazing up at Baekhyun’s tired ones. “Wait... you’re not telling me that she’s the reason you’ve been so stressed out, are you? Dude, I sent her out with Jongin! What’d you do?”

“I... I don’t know.” He responds, still appalled by Chanyeol’s calmness surrounding the situation. “But we dated for a bit and I ruined it by telling her that you might not be as supportive about this.”

“Dude...” He clicks his tongue in disbelief. “Why didn’t you just tell me before? Did you already fuck up before it even really started?”

“What else am I supposed to do? What if you said no? Was I to pick between the girl I’m in love with and my best friend?”

“Baek, stop being difficult. She’s old enough to decide things herself. What do you think this is, the Medieval times? Women are capable of making their own decisions— even if she’s my baby sister and something in my stomach really wants to punch you for even laying your eyes on her, but I can’t do that.” Then, there’s a pause. “Did you say you love her?”

“Uh...” He sighs, standing up in his seat and gestures Baekhyun up as well. “Come on, let’s go fix this mess.”

Baekhyun declines, slouching. “I’ve already fucked it up to the point of no return. She blocked my number, doesn’t respond to texts— I couldn’t even come to your house this past week because I knew she would ignore me. I look like a crazed boyfriend with how much I’m trying here.”

“You are a crazed boyfriend, you literally fucked up your chances with her.”

“Which is why I think I should completely give up.”

Rubbing his face in his hands, Chanyeol frustratedly groans. “Honestly, if you’re going to give up so easily, maybe you don’t deserve her.” Baekhyun swallows, anxiously shaking his leg under the table. “What am I supposed to do? Stand outside her house until she has to come out?”

“Well, for one thing, you got her brother’s permission and acceptance of the two of you being together. Isn’t that something? Wasn’t that one of the reasons that stemmed from the conversation?”

Baekhyun grunts, hands furiously ruffling his hair. “It wasn’t only that. I called her immature, Yeol. I told her that she wasn’t mature enough for me.” His best friend stays silent for a moment, so quiet that you could almost hear him blink. “Do you really believe that?”

“Of course not. She’s the most mature twenty two year old I’ve ever met. She has most of her life together than I do, not including the fact that she has more self-assurance than I ever did at that age. But she doesn’t make me feel bad about it either; she wants me to bask in my childish behavior and be myself—“

“—stop talking and save it for her, will you?”

His palms are incredibly sweaty. Wiping the excess moisture on the fabric of his jeans, he tightens his jaw but follows with a deep inhale and exhale afterwards. “Why are you so nervous? I thought you said you liked her and were comfortable with her?” Chanyeol is shuffling through his pockets and filing through the many keys he has for the front door of your parents’ place before a familiar voice is heard behind the wooden material.

“I think it’s Yeol, Dad! I got it—“ The door swings open and the sight of you clenches Baekhyun’s chest.

You’re so pretty; so fucking goddamn pretty. Hair tied back in a loose bun, oversized grey hoodie and black shorts yet the simplest outfit has Baekhyun almost gasping for air. It makes the acidity in his stomach grumble— or his intestines in a knot; he’s not quite sure. One thing he was certain of was that knowing that he was the cause of your tired and sad eyes made his heart drop.

“Oh, hey Baekhyun.” That stung. He missed hearing you call him your baby. “You guys coming in?”

“I’m coming in. But you? Stay out here and talk to Baekhyun.” A blank expression on your face, you blink profusely. “Is everything okay?”

“Apparently not. Seemed like my friend is rather smitten with you. What’d you do? Drug his drink?”

“With what? You think I have to drug your friends to think I’m somewhat pretty?”

“No, I think you have to drug their drinks to get them to fall in love with you. He’s crazy now; I don’t think I want to be around him anymore. You keep him.” His words don’t have an underlying tone that you can pick out but he ends it off with a soft smile before patting your shoulder and walking into the house.

It’s just you and Baekhyun.

“Why’s he talking like that?” You say, ultimately shattering the glass of silence. “He’s acting like I have all his friends by a leash.”

“You have me by a leash.” It’s a quiet again. A heavy empty space of stillness settled over the two of you, thicker than the awkwardness and tension that had never been there before.

“Why are you—“

“You’re home early.” Baekhyun states the obvious, gathering enough courage to speak up. “Bad date?” Sucking in your cheeks, you’re tempted to tell him that it’s none of his business, yet you play along to his game anyway. “No... he was great. He just had a lot to offer when it came to money and I knew I couldn’t reciprocate nor live that life.” He nods as if this information was helpful, knowing that regardless of the turnout of the date, he would still be having this conversation.

“I told Yeol.” Your eyes widen; this is the most of a reaction he has gotten from you in a while and he admits that he misses it. “You what? Are you crazy? It was supposed to be meticulously planned—”

“He said he was okay with it.” Blinking blankly, you’re still hesitant about what to say next. “That... that doesn’t change where we left off.” Distressingly raking his hair with his fingers, he nods. “I know it doesn’t make up for any of the things I said but I still want another shot. I said it in the moment of panic— I had to pick between you and Chanyeol, and I didn’t know what to do.”

“So... what are you trying to say?”

“That what I said the other day, I didn’t mean it. I guess, calling you little Park like I’ve always done made it easy, knowing that I didn’t have to choose between my best friend and the girl I’ve been head over heels for. It gave me enough time to figure out what I wanted to do and... I just ended up ruining it for myself.”

You’re quiet the entire time, hands twiddling with the fabric of your hoodie. Unsure how to feel and uncertain of what to say, you just swallow any words that want to leave your mouth, not wanting to be too easy and let him back into your arms so easily. “Please, say something, say anything. I’m in love with you and honestly, I never thought I’d be in this position. All those girls I’ve dated—none of them made me feel in comparison to you.” His voice is wavering; you assume it’s from him being nervous.

“Baek, I don’t want to get hurt again.” You say softly, almost in a whisper. “You made me feel so stupid that day. I put you on this pedestal, I thought so highly of you—“

“Don’t do that,” He interrupts, stepping closer to you. “Don’t think so highly of me because I already broke your heart once. I made you wait so long and never realized your feelings for me. You’re the one that I should be putting on a pedestal.” Tears begin to well in your eyes again—Baekhyun’s the reason again, but it’s the opposite from before.

“I picked my nose before opening the door and wiped it on the doorknob before coming out because I knew Chanyeol was going to touch it. Are you sure about that?” He laughs, arms wrapping around your frame before pulling you against his chest. “Exactly what I looked for in a girlfriend. Someone who would torture my best friend.”

“I think I’m ready to move out.”

“Oh wow,” You say, slightly impressed. “You’re like what, 29? You probably should have your own place by now. Instead, you’ve been living at your parents’ house, trying to steal your sister’s last can of coke from the fridge. And you didn’t even bother to replace it!” Baekhyun chuckles at the siblings arguing, rubbing your back soothingly.

“Nobody asked you to drink so much of it. It’s bad for your heath.”

“You’re just saying that because you can’t handle my hits. You want me to be weaker.”

“Rightfully so.” He attacks back, sticking his tongue at you. “Man, ever since Baek started dating you, he won’t even stand by me anymore. I felt like I had more confidence knowing that he might back me up.” His friend shakes his head. “I never did though, I let you guys just fight.” Chanyeol groans. “Whatever. Anyway, I think I should look for a roommate temporarily before completely moving out on my own.”

Baekhyun sits up on the couch. “You could always come live with me, you know.” Your older brother scoffs, shaking his head. “Nah, not after you started dating my sister. I’m only half okay with this, I’m not sure how I’d feel hearing your bedpost banging on the wall.”

“What— why would you even bring that up!”

Chanyeol sighs disappointingly, leaning back. “Man, I miss when Baek used to date other girls. He’d talk about how wild some of them were, how his flings were… he lived the life I wanted to live—ouch! Did you just throw the controller at me?” He winces, rubbing his head. “What was that for?”

“Are you seriously talking about his past sexual encounters in front of me, you asshole?”

“Okay but Baek—“ Baekhyun raises his hands in defeat. “I don’t know if I’m cool with you bringing this up with my current girlfriend, dude.”

“This is a losing battle, isn’t it?”

#baekhyun #baekhyun fanfic #reader x baekhyun #baekhyun x reader #exo #exo fanfic #exo fics #baekhyun & reader #baekhyun&reader #exo smut #baekhyun smut #gyukultfics

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imanes · 3 years ago

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Hello! You mentioned reading Piranesi a few months ago and I finally got around to reading it and I love it so much - thank you for the lovely recommendation <3 If you don't mind can you talk a little about what you loved about the book (I love hearing your thoughts)? Also have you read Jorge Luis Borges' Ficciones (I believe it inspired Piranesi)?

HELLO my friend!! first of all tysm for taking the recommendation, I'm so happy it worked for you! honestly what do I NOT love about this book? it's hard to wrap my thoughts about piranesi because it was such a lovely reading experience which i honestly need to repeat ASAP because the layers to explore in piranesi are so numerous. secondly let me admit that i haven't read any borges yet BUT he's definitely on my radar and I've been looking for his books on my used bookstore runs since i read piranesi, not to much avail unfortunately but i added ficciones to my tbr for reminder!!

anyways I'm gonna stop right here for anyone who has not read piranesi yet because i think you'd benefit from going into it not knowing much except that it's told in vignettes and that it has elements of mystery which become more and more central to the plot as we advance and unravel the world that piranesi lives in. so don't keep reading past this if u haven't read piranesi yet! i did keep it spoiler-free though so no pressure. also putting everything under a read more bc i truly was obnoxiously verbose adlkjglsjk if it didn't work my apologies 4 it

NOW let's talk about what i loved about the book which honestly will probably just be a flimsy overview bc again i think a re-read would make what i love about it more salient and richer but i guess we can already have a start here!

first of all, the character of piranesi. when i first started the book and immersed myself in his inner voice, i was kind of thinking ok there must be a reason as to why he is so incredibly wholesome but also with an extremely sharp mind and immaculate observation skills. the childlike wonder of his perspective was an absolute joy to read from but also provided some tension because i think pretty early on you catch that he might be a bit of an unreliable character and that what he tells you may not match the reality of what his experiences and observations mean to the reader. you're very much the prisoner of his limited perception, his sometimes bizarre but always delightful thought process, and also again the childlike wonder with which he observes the world and which makes everything carry so much more weight w/o resorting to pompous/pretentious gravitas. a statue isn't just a statue to him, it is the Statue, something important in and of itself, with its own story/mythos and it harkens back to a child's point of view which hasn't yet been shaped by the world and therefore isn't as limited as our jaded adults' minds, even though he is an adult himself, which is apparent in his very keen mind.

then we have the form, with the novel being told in vignettes. i personally really like novels such as these because they feel a lot more personal but also propels the story forward. I'm not a fan of huge chapters tbh because my attention span is trash lmao. it was so easy to immerse myself in his world because the writing was so vivid and honestly made me reevaluate a lot about myself adjdjslg. I'm not much of a quote person but "the Beauty of the House is immeasurable; its Kindness infinite" lives rent-free in my mind because 1. it appears at two key points in the novel and both iterations echo the other brilliantly in their respective context and thus add even more meaning to the quote and 2. i think it's a beautiful metaphor for the world we live in, which leads me to the next point

what i mostly clung to during my reading experience was the theme of confinement to a specific physical space, which can feel suffocating and limited. susanna clarke suffers from a chronic illness that has kept her within the confines of her home for many years and this book very much reflects that. from my personal experience with that theme, i was less reminded of how thematically relevant it was in the middle of a pandemic, and more about how much goodness there is still in this world at a time where everything seems so bleak, and unkind. i myself suffer from an ugly case of chronic cynicism which i think is very unappealing lmao but at least I'm self-aware! being reminded that we live in a world where kindness is indeed infinite in the smallest and biggest of ways is the balm that my shriveled soul truly needed. i guess it's my emotional support quote lmao.

then we have the setting of the book which, while limited spatially, is also so full of wonderful things and imaginative configurations that i was just in awe of everything that was being done with it. the plot is closely tied to the setting and i really want to keep this spoiler-free (just in case) so I'm not going to delve too deeply into it but i'd love to visit this place and have piranesi guide me through the labyrinth of the House and the many wonders (and tragedies) that it holds.

finally we have the MYSTERY and omg i love picking up the clues and kind of forming my own theories along the way bc it truly isn't an in-your-face mystery like a thriller would be. we buddy-read this with some ppl from the book club so the experience of sharing our theories made it all the more pleasant. i really loved how clarke presented the many mysteries of the story in such a subtle yet gripping manner that soon i was just obsessed with knowing who was whom and what they wanted from piranesi and who piranesi was and how this all came to be. all the different players felt fully fleshed out and made me feel veeeery strongly (i.e. i wanted to kill some of them like literally daydreaming about choking them to death... not to sound unhinged or anything). they provided such good foils to piranesi's inherent goodness and all that they lacked in terms of decency. their shamelessness and infinite greed and how they see piranesi as a pawn to use set my teeth on edge so i was just biding my time for the karmic retribution that they'd get akjdlkgj also great exploration of how ambition can be the downfall of mankind

then we have all the clever-people-themes of neoclassicism and philosophy and plato's cave and whatnot and it's not what held my attention so i can't speak much on it bc I'm not one of those clever people who picked upon these themes LMAO but I'll for sure spend more time unpacking these layers on my re-read of this book because there are so many smart ideas hidden in the nooks and crannies of this story that i think you could get something different from each read, kind of like i feel about pride & prejudice by jane austen which offers me new delights to enjoy upon each re-read.

honestly i have so much more to say about how religion is handled, the rituals surrounding grief and their importance in the celebration and respect of of life, birds being amazing creatures, identity and how it can create contradictions etc etc but at this point i might as well just write a college essay on literally every theme explored in this book because it was just SO GOOD! thank u piranesi for me life

tl;dr this book made me feel like my brain was buried in a thick coat of dust and let some much-needed air in

#also i read this message at like 6am and thought long and hard about it #and then started crying bc i'd die and kill for piranesi period

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amethystpath-writes · 4 years ago

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If you have the time and motivation for this, would you mind writing about the hero finding out the villain has been dating his sister? And the sister has no idea but the villain is like taunting the hero with public displays of attention and gushy romance things. The hero can’t do anything bc he thinks the villain will hurt the sister if he says anything about it. You can decide whether the villain actually loves the sister or not :)

I have been excited about this idea since I read it. Thank you, nonny!

******

Pulling up to the curb, Sister pushed the door open. How long ago did she unbuckle? Hero wondered. He hated how- how…uncaring she was. It wasn’t so much about her hurting other people with her carelessness as it was about her hurting herself. Hero loved Sister, which meant he hated to see the path she was taking. She was going to get herself killed, maybe not by going on dates, but with all her other tendencies; things like getting into car crashes at sixteen, going to skateparks in the middle of the night, and the general rebellious thing she had going on. Hero wish she could understand that the reason he was so overbearing was because their parents weren’t at all. And he wasn’t a helicopter brother; he just wanted her to be safe.

Hero turned the key counter clockwise and pulled it out, before getting out of the car himself. Now was the moment he’d evaluate Sister’s boyfriend. Yes, evaluate. If the guy Sister was dating was some jerk or something right off the bat, Hero would make him leave. He’d- uh- puff his chest and…and do the intimidating stuff.

Truth be told, Hero didn’t know how to come off as intimidating without using his abilities, but no one knew about those, and no on could know. He had watched too many movies of people with weird powers being taken and experimented on or tortured or other terrible things. It’s why he and Villain took things to rooftops, or otherwise amidst destruction where they couldn’t be seen. But that wasn’t the point! The point was that Hero was about to meet the person his sister was spending so much time with.

Sister was running up to one of the tables of the small ice cream bar, and when she got there- or to the person there- she wrapped their arms around a man, and as he looked up, Hero felt his whole body freeze. He felt his hands shake as the man- Villain- dragged a hand up and down Sister’s back, taunting Hero because he knew the shock it would cause.

It was Villain. Villain was coddling Hero’s sister right in front of him, and he even made eye contact while doing it.

After a few more frozen moments, Hero took one- two- steps forward. Villain watched, not ceasing his teases. At one point he even full on glared at Hero, stopping him in his tracks. Hero didn’t know what to do but to remain where he was and watch. He nearly spoke, opening his mouth to break it up, to get Sister away, but one flick of Villain’s hand on her neck stopped him.

The two kissed, not too awfully long- certainly not a make out session, but it was too long to be considered a peck.

“Oh.” Villain’s gaze caught Hero’s again, and he smiled. “This must be the brother you have mentioned a time or twice.”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah.” She gave a small laugh, adjusting her shirt, as it’d become somewhat crooked, and turning to face her brother while still standing beside her boyfriend- who now slid a hand behind her before settling it on her waist opposite of his own side.

Hero swallowed. Should he talk? Initiate the conversation? But with that hand on his sister’s hip…it was a threat. Villain could take off with her any second.

Or maybe he just loved Sister.

No. No, of course he doesn’t love Sister. That was a ridiculous idea and Hero couldn’t believe he even thought of it for a second.

“You never said he was mute.”

Still not knowing whether to speak or not, Hero only took very slow and deliberate steps forward toward the- the couple, if you could even call them that. “When do I need to pick you up?”

Sister’s face scrunched up. “What? You suddenly don’t want the cone and taco you made me promise to buy you before you left?” She laughed and crossed her left arm over her chest so that she could place her hand on Villain’s shoulder. “You don’t approve.”

She thought it was because Villain was wearing raggy clothing, a shirt with purposefully torn holes and bleached pants. No. That wasn’t the problem at all. Someone who looked as Villain did now was exactly Sister’s type, and they weren’t all shitty people. It just so happened to be that this one was. And this wasn’t the clothing Villain typically wore either. It was a lie, a façade, to lure Sister in. It worked.

Villain’s hand began to draw circles on Sister’s side. Hero had to take a deep breath. Another warning, or threat, or whatever you wanted to call it, to Hero to say the right thing, to play a role in the act. “I didn’t say that,” he settled for. Easy, simple, neutral.

“Your face is saying that,” Villain said. Hero could have sworn Villain held up a one with his fingers for a moment. He felt his heart thundering in his chest.

“Why don’t we all order our food and sit down, hm? Clear the air up a bit.”

It wasn’t a request or a suggestion. It was a demand.

Hero didn’t realize his jaw was clenched until he opened it to speak as he walked toward them at a proper talking distance. He kept his hands in his pockets to hide the fact they were fisted. “Right. Not a problem at all. Sister, I’ll order for you. What do you want?”

She looked up at him, then Villain.

“I told her I’d pay, but if you’d like to go order for yourself with me, then that’s fine. Maybe we can get to know one another a little more. Do you want to pick a table for us, mi amore?”

Wordless, Sister left to do as Villain suggested. Now it was just Hero and Villain standing out in the wide open.

Villain was the first to begin walking to the order line. Hero followed two steps behind, too nervous to be any closer. He didn’t think Villain was stupid enough to act out here, but it was hard telling- especially if he was apparently willing to date Sister. Hero still couldn’t believe it. The denial would have been stronger if Villain hadn’t been actively cluing threats.

“I have really rendered you speechless, haven’t I?”

Hero said nothing.

“Go on, say something. Do you think I plan to rip out your tongue?”

No. I think you might snap my sister’s neck. “What are you doing?”

Villain gave a small chuckle. “Did you ever consider that maybe I just like your sister and that’s why I asked her on a date today?”

“I considered it, then found it unlikely.”

He hummed. “Well, you’re right. I don’t despise her, but I would have no interest in her if it didn’t dig under your skin. It’s funny, the way you find me to be so threatening. A touch on her wrist makes you think I’ll break it. A touch on her neck, and you think I’ll dig my teeth into her throat as if I were a vampire and she my prey. What else, hero?”

“You would do all of those things.” Straight to the point.

“Is that what you think?” Villain smiled, stepping forward in the line now that some kid finally decided to order three scoops of various ice creams with sprinkles and syrup on top- no cherry though. “Perhaps. That only means you should continue to tread carefully. I’d hate for you to twist an ankle.”

Hero was becoming more frustrated than worried now. What was the point in all of this? The only thing Hero could come up with was that this was Villain’s form of a punishment…for looking for him, Hero assumed. But why was that such a big deal? Maybe Villain was up to something and needed Hero off his back; dating his sister and threatening her nearly every moment was the solution, and it was somewhat effective.

Silence followed through the rest of the line until they made it to ordering. “You used to buy her the toppings options,” Villain said to Hero before looking back to the person taking his order. “Add some rainbow sprinkles on top.” Having finished the order, Villain handed over a twenty- Did he just hold up a two with his other hand? - and told the worker to keep the change- all five dollars and thirty-six cents. Turning back to Hero, he began again. “She misses those times- when you actually tried to spend time with her.”

Gritting his teeth, Hero said nothing. Villain knew the reason he didn’t talk to his sister- or any of his family. Hero was busy looking for wherever Villain was hiding out when he wasn’t going into cities and attacking people from above.

They waited for their orders after Hero paid for his, and as they did this, Villain spoke up again, “You’re thinking about what to do in this scenario.”

“I’m not thinking about much of anything actually.”

Villain hummed. “I would be head over my heels in thought. I must have really boggled you up there.”

Hero said nothing. There was nothing to do.

Bringing the food and ice cream back, the date went as any would- with the exception that Hero was now a part of the date. It was originally meant to only be Sister and whoever her boyfriend was- which as Hero knew now, was Villain.

They all chatted like good friends, and Hero was warned subtly a few times to watch his displeased facial expressions. The unhappy expression usually only happened when Villain would hold Sister’s hand and all Hero could think was, He’s going to crush her bones. He’s capable of it. One squeeze is all it’d take. They also frequented when Villain put an arm around his sister’s shoulders, draping a hand almost carelessly. Again, Hero’s thoughts would get the best of him. Fingernails in her arm, river of blood. What did he think Villain was exactly, Hero wasn’t even sure, but evil was an easy way to define him.

Sure, they both had abilities, but only Villain was sadistic enough to ever use them against people powerless and defenseless against it. He never did it where he could be seen, but- well, Villain was unpredictable, wasn’t he? Hero certainly never expected the guy to start dating his sister. It was possible he really would hurt Sister in public.

“Hero, what did you say you do for work again?”

He swallowed. Hero could out Villain right now, just say it in the next moment and no one would expect it. And it was outlandish enough that it would be surprisingly unquestionable. Some things you just couldn’t lie about. It wouldn’t even need thought, though, because Villain would deliberately prove it…by concussing Sister with a tiny flick.

“I work with the Containment Justice Department in town.” This was what Hero told everyone, mostly his family. It wasn’t so difficult to lie about anymore, except that now Villain was smiling with the brightest beam of amusement.

Containment Justice Department, Hero could hear Villain mocking him.

“Interesting. I thought you had to graduate from some police academy or something to do that.”

“I excelled.”

“Right. Sister said you dropped out of high school. Suppose that’s why I never saw you in the halls.”

Villain tucked a piece of hair behind Sister’s ears then brought his lips to her cheek. She smiled and pushed him away playfully. Hero held his breath.

What could Villain possibly do with a kiss? What deadly thing could come out of that? His creativity was shrunken at this point, exhausted. This had been such a long day, and the sun was setting. Hero was stressed beyond relief, he felt.

“How long have you two been together?”

Sister opened her mouth to answer, but Villain beat her to the punch, his lips still on her skin. “Next week will be a year.” He put a hand on her chin after drawing his own head back just barely to make room for movement, then dragged her head to him until their lips were almost touching. “Isn’t that right, mi amore?”

A blush rose in her cheeks before he kissed her, and this time it was longer than when she and Hero first arrived.

“Right, well it was nice to meet you. Sister, we should go before it gets dark.”

“Um, I was actually…” Sister began, but trailed off.

“I’ll bring her home later tomorrow.”

“We should go home now. It’s dangerous out at night.” Hero added, “Not just for her sake, but yours.” Hero only included this for two reasons: (1) Villain would have silently scolded Hero, threatened him- or his sister, he supposed- for not wishing good will for Villain, and (2) because Hero needed his sister to agree with him, to want Villain to go home so that he was safe since they were a couple and couples cared for one another.

“My house is well lit. I think we’ll be okay. But I do hate to drive at night. Astigmatisms,” Villain said, “nasty things. Are you ready to go, mi amore?”

She nodded, and Hero didn’t know what to do as she began to stand. Sister couldn’t go to Villain’s home; she might never come back. What if he killed her? Hero didn’t know where he lived, and that meant there would be no rescue. He had to stop this now. But he couldn’t. Because if he tried to, Villain would act out now, and he’d probably find a way to make it Hero’s fault.

“You win, okay?” Hero rushed out as the distance between he and Sister and Villain grew. “You’ve- uh- been there for my sister when I couldn’t be. You are a…” Hero grimaced. “You’re a good guy.”

Villain licked his lip before dragging it in with his teeth, then looking at Sister with only his eyes- no tilting of the head, no action Sister could see.

“Thank you for taking care of her. Drive safely.”

And that was all Hero could do to ensure any amount of safety; admit defeat. Admit the Villain one, and maybe he would ease up, maybe he would break the tie he made with Sister, let her be free, even though she didn’t know she was caught to begin with.

“Will do.” Villain tossed a hand in the air- a careless goodbye.

Hero felt his heart drop. What did the carelessness mean- if anything at all? There was nothing he could do about it anyways. Villain won. Hero could only hope- maybe even pray- that Villain would show mercy. Until then, Hero hopped in his car, and before he took off, he turned the ringer on on his phone. It was the least he could do. If Sister was in trouble, maybe she would text or call him, and he would be there in a heartbeat after she told Hero Villain’s add- That’s it!

Hero opened the messaging on his phone and clicked on Sister’s name. ‘What’s his address? Just in case something happens.’ he typed and hit send.

Not a moment later, Hero received a text back from Sister, reading, ‘Seriously? How dunce are you?’

Another message as Hero began typing. ‘That’s three.’ it read. Hero squinted his eyes, looking up at the brake lights in front of him. A hand was stuck out of the driver side window. Three fingers were held out. And then? The car in front of Hero surged forward, wheels squealing with the highest screech he ever heard.

“No!” Hero fumbled with his keys, trying hard- maybe too hard- to put in it the ignition slot. “No, no, no.” He glanced up and down, watching as Villain’s car sped off until it turned out of sight. “Dammit!” Finally, the key slid in, and Hero started the car, speeding off just the same as Villain did just two minutes ago, but by the time he turned on the street Villain had, the car was gone, his sister with it.

******

Requested Part 2 here

#request fill #hero x villain #hero x villain story #cursing cw #there's not too many but enough to give warning :)#I ended up cutting out an entire paragraph at the beginning though #wasn't too necessary to have in the story and it made longer than it already was haha #much love! Xx Dee

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crispyjenkins · 4 years ago

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I’m resending it now! ok so what if for some reason Obi’s lightsaber either gets destroyed or the crystal stops resonating with him & He’s with Jango who goes with him to wherever the force guides him to find his new crystal at & like Obi goes through some wack vision/trial from the force and when he gets through it his new crystal reveals itself and it’s the same type of crystal like in the dark saber? And Jango is just losing it when he sees it bc he thinks “HOW?! but also, That’s HOT” hehe

(my DUDE i’m so flippin glad you re-sent this, i’ve had to force myself not to write this one so i could get other people’s prompts out, and i was at first unsure of how to spin this, but holy FECK is it all i can think about now. i just. i just want to write so much of this obi. i’m sorry i didn’t get to jango much, but you bet your butters he and obi are connected every which way in this, in ways beyond force bonds because i’m a dramatic bitch.

i hope y’all enjoy this one as much as i did!!)

edit 6/26/20: this is now part of a full fix-it! you can read it as it updates here on my Ao3! updates on fridays.

Illum is colder than he remembered, though the last time Obi-Wan had been here, he had not feared wrapping himself up in the Force. It’s been... Force, he hasn’t been back since after Melida/Daan, and something in him breaks again at the thought that he’d lost the ‘saber that had been with him for more than a decade. But, no, a lightsaber is a small price to pay to have saved his master.

His former master. He isn't Qui-Gon’s apprentice anymore, Anakin had made sure of that.

Obi-Wan had been sent to Illum alone, no younglings in need of making their first ‘saber, and no one else needing to replace theirs; Anakin has a few more months in the crèche before he can build his, and Obi-Wan can’t thank the council enough that he doesn’t have to walk the caves knowing his replacement is somewhere doing the same. With Qui-Gon still in the Halls, Master Plo had stepped forward in offer to knight him, and had almost had to fight Master Depa for the honor, which was... strange. He’s used to quite the opposite of masters fighting over him, but an amused Yoda had almost used his lineage status to refuse them both for himself instead, until Mace, as Master of the Order, had given the right to Plo Koon. And Jedi do not gloat, but the Kel Dor had certainly been smiling behind his mask.

The doors to the caves open easily despite the ice, so maybe his great-grandmaster had been right about Obi-Wan rebuilding his lightsaber before his knighting ceremony. This thought doesn’t settle the feeling of intruding when he steps over the threshold, the marrow-deep feeling of being an imposter in one of the most holy places in the galaxy.

The kyber hums around him, as if he wasn’t at this exact moment considering walking away from the Order.

He’s hardly a proper Jedi, is he? Killing a Sith with a sai tok, falling in love with Satine, holding a grudge against a nine year-old freed slave for taking his master away from him. Hadn’t he drawn on the dark side to defeat the Zabrak? Killed him not out of duty to his vow but in revenge for the fallen Qui-Gon? His lightsaber might have cauterised the wounds, but he has blood on his hands all the same.

So he keeps walking, refusing to touch a single crystal he passes. The Force tugs him deeper into the caves anyways, and he has half a thought to ignoring it (does he even deserve to listen to it anymore?) but for all his tumultuous thoughts, Obi-Wan is beholden to the Force, beholden to the grip it has in his viscera.

He follows it as his breath forms clouds before his lips, frost on his skin that he cannot even feel. Where would he go, if he left? Stewjon is insular, they would not want him back, but he cannot stay at the Temple. Naboo, perhaps? Padmé would surely welcome him, but could he really settle down on such a peaceful planet after spending over half his life running around the stars with his master?

Closing his eyes at the memory of Satine, he allows himself to... consider it. Would she still want him? They haven’t spoken since, but sometimes he can feel her in his mind still, a little warm bud that could bloom, if he let it. And even if she threw him out, Mandalore isn’t a bad place to restart.

“Could I really?” he muses out loud, stepping over a great crack in the stone floor and setting his feet to follow a barely-there path towards the lake, only for the Force to have him veer away from it. Could he really give up being a Jedi? After every trial the Force had put him through to even become an apprentice? Oh, but he had tried so. kriffing. hard. to get this far, could he really do anything else?

He swallows thickly and almost desperately pulls the Force back around himself, as if in apology, as if in repentance, as if anguish—

Peace, it whispers, brushing over his mind even as it sinks claws into his ribs and pulls him up short.

Obi-Wan is twelve again, wind whipping around him as the Jedi transport takes off from Bandomeer, Qui-Gon Jinn staring down at him. Force, but he hasn’t ever felt worse than when he feels their raw bond stretching with distance, yanking deep in him until he’s breathless, doesn’t Master Jinn feel it—?

And Obi-Wan is sitting in the living room of their Temple apartment, kneeling on his cloth meditation mat across from Qui-Gon’s bamboo one. His master’s warmth surrounds him in a glittering cloud of comfort and ease, and they’ve been at this for five years now, and still Obi-Wan holds this as his most treasured memory, something to cling to when things seem desolate or he’s been arguing with Qui-Gon, or—

He’s in the glass city of Sundari, brushing a hand over Satine’s cheek as she laughs, and Force, she’s even more beautiful than he remembers— She’s dying in his arms, bruises violent red around her throat, a sizzling ‘saber wound through her middle, and she’s beautiful even now, oh Force not like this—

Obi-Wan is older, his joints a little creakier, his hair grey at the temples, and he has a beskad sticking out of his chest. Above him is a boy that looks suspiciously like him, red hair and green eyes but with Satine’s lips and eyebrows. Korkie, the Force tells him, as the boy leans over Obi-Wan and why is he angry? Ah, so this blade had not been meant for him—

Anakin, little Anakin with a padawan braid beams up at him in a training salle with a practice saber in his fists. Obi-Wan moves to correct his kata, and though he’s... sure he had never learned this from Qui-Gon, he knows it’s Form III, he knows it’s Soresu like he knows his own name, like he knows the padawan bond in his mind and the warm nova glow of Anakin attached to his core—

Obi-Wan is an old man, seated on a perfectly smooth grey stone above a green, green cliff battered by ocean waves and briny air. He meditates with the knowledge he had come from here, the Force here as close to home as he could ever hope to achieve. He had not searched for the family that left him on the Temple steps, and that’s just fine by him, he could not have asked for a better place to begin his seclusion studies than Stewjon—

Obi-Wan is an old man, seated on a perfectly smooth red stone, the desert cliffs around him worn smooth from the sand that batters around him, ripping through his robes but never touching his skin. The Force is feral here, claws and bone and teeth teeth teeth, but somewhere out in the dunes, there shines Luke, pearlescent and good and proof that Obi-Wan has not failed just yet.

Satine is screaming at him as she shoves Korkie behind her back and raises a beskad that seems wrong, wrong in her hands, but he doesn’t have time to think about his heart wielding a blade, when he’s wielding the darksaber, whistling as it cuts through the air against Tor Vizsla, why had they trusted him, he knew he could not be trusted, and now his family is going to pay the price— His ‘saber, black as space, connects with Vizsla's, black as night, and Obi-Wan is not wielding the darksaber, but something else entirely, with a beskad’s edge, with a hum that’s almost a scream, that moves towards the darksaber with the intent to shatter—

A Mando in blue and silver beskar’gam hands him a hilt, hammered durasteel wrapped in black leather, so unlike any Jedi ‘saber hilt he’s ever seen, but Obi-Wan knows it’s his from the way it sings, the way the Force insists it’s his his his—

The blue and silver Mando with his helmet off, a man so unspeakably gorgeous that Obi-Wan wonders how he even copes— The Mando’s gloved hand grips Obi-Wan’s wrist, the face he knows so well twisted into dread and anger. Don’t go, they beg, but Obi-Wan must, he cannot abandon Mandalore, he cannot—, Don’t you realize that Zabrak’s fucking crazy? Obi-Wan, he’s going to kill you—

Obi-Wan is older, but not much, pinned underneath blue and silver armour as Sundari glass and blasterfire rains around them—

Obi-Wan watches the Beautiful Mando sleeping with his head pillowed on Obi-Wan’s arm, a new scar curling through his eyebrow that he hasn’t asked about yet—

A mini Beautiful Mando eyes him suspiciously, hands on his hips while his buir stands behind him and tries not to laugh—

Obi-Wan is on Illum, but he is not, he weaves his way through dusty streets he has never seen before and yet knows the way by heart, following that heart towards the hangar where his aliit waits. He has beads braided messily in his hair, twisted by pudgy fingers insisting Obi-Wan deserves to look just as pretty as his buir; that durasteel and leather hilt bounces against his hip, and he has a single blue and silver gauntlet on his right arm. He is a Jedi, the Force assures him, in the way light bends through him, but he is also Mando’ad, he knows that without needing to ask. He belongs to a planet and to a people that he did not start with, in a strange Force-willed way that he can’t explain, and he’s a Jedi, but he knows he has a family waiting for him in an old police craft. A black-bladed ‘saber hums at his side.

Obi-Wan opens his eyes in front of a rock wall, glittering kyber in every colour rising up the sheer face until their little lights disappear into the darkness far above him. Just above eye-level, there is a small crater in the wall, as if the rest of the kyber cannot grow around the single crystal at the crater’s center.

It is opalescent and space-black, and looks as if it had been cut for a piece of opulent jewellery. The Force whispers heart heart heart, and he supposes it does look the size and shape of a beskar’ta, and isn’t that fitting?

When he reaches out to take it, the white glow at its edges seems to suck in the light from around it, and it sings higher than any crystal he’s ever touched, whistling trials and heartbreak and pain and blood, but also love and laughter and family, if he lets it form the notes just right. It sings in Mando’a, in war gods and clans and beskar, and it sings for Obi-Wan alone.

- Across the galaxy, Jango wakes on Jaster’s Legacy in a cold sweat.

Translations/Other: sai tok — the ‘saber move of cutting an opponent in half, frowned upon by the Jedi for its roots in the dark side. beskad — traditional Mandalorian curved saber made of beskar. allit — Mando’a for “clan” or “family”. buir — Mando’a for “parent”, gender neutral. beskar’ta — Mando’a for “iron heart”, the elongated hex-shape common in Mandalorian armour designs (great post here comparing them to katana tsuba). also called ka’rta beskar or “heart of the iron”. Jaster’s Legacy — Jaster’s old ship that Jango found and used post Galidraan, and pre Slave I.

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dont-cry2020 · 5 years ago

Text

“Guess You’re a Celebrity Now, Huh?”

Harry Styles X Reader

//inspired by an idea given to me by the wonderful @peter-andthelostboys//

//What happens when there’s a new girl at an arts college? Well, she receives anonymous portraits shoved under her door, that the notorious Harry Styles may have something to do with//

//Fluff and angst//

//this definitely isn’t my best work but I haven’t been feeling super motivated lately, so thank you for your patience. i might try and rewrite this another time bc i really love the idea//

Harry loved to draw. It was his passion.

He was quite good at it, too, so it was really no surprise to his friends and family when he got accepted to art school in Los Angeles.

It’s a scary thing to move all the way across the world, let alone by yourself, but Harry adjusted quickly, enjoying the warm climate that was so different from the UK.

You, on the other hand, were feeling quite lost after high school. Your parents pushed you into medical program after medical program, determined that you were going to ‘make the family proud’ and ‘become rich and smart.’

For starters, you could care less about being rich, but you decided to humor your parents by going to medical school. Yeah, it was hard.

So incredibly hard.

So hard, in fact, that you could count the panic attacks and all nighters you pulled on two hands.

However, you found in yourself a passion for music; whether that was writing music or playing guitar or singing, it made you feel whole. Something that medicine and doctorates degrees could never.

As Junior year began and the weather got crisper and the air constantly smelled like cinnamon and spice, you started to feel lonely on top of the stress. Sure, you had your friends, really good friends at that, but that wasn’t the problem. You longed for someone to love, someone to hold you and help you through your ups and downs and someone for you to help through their ups and downs. But, you knew that you couldn’t handle a relationship right now, for Christ’s sake you were studying to be a goddamn doctor!

You had a boyfriend freshman year. He was kind, smart, and, much to your parent’s approval, was studying to become a pediatrician.

But you weren’t happy.

It was always about school and homework; never parties or holidays or even intimacy. So, you ended it, and as junior year is upon you, you haven’t had a boyfriend since.

Your girlfriends noticed that you were lonely, so they spent their time setting you up with hot college medical students to which you indulged in, and it was fun, sure, but you still weren’t happy.

So you did the one thing that your parents never forgave you for.

You dropped out.

You dropped out of medical school and transferred to an arts college, one that you had your eye on since freshman year, and one that was about as far away from home as you could possibly go.

You didn’t tell your mom or dad, didn’t tell them because you already knew what they were going to say.

“You’re ruining your future!”

“You have no chance of getting a job now!”

They hadn’t stopped since they found out from your brother, wondering why such a smart girl would become an art student. They didn’t even know you liked art.

You were sad to leave your friends, sure, who wouldn’t be? You loved them, but you all understood that it was for the best. You had a dream, and you were going to chase it. They stood at the gates of the airport, waving and crying and hugging you as you boarded the plane from London to LAX.

“Here we go.”

...

Art school was weird.

There were no snobby students with 4.0 GPA’s to wave in your face, no professors that thought they were better than everyone else or classes that you dreaded going to.

It was actually fun. Who knew that college could be fun, right?

Moving into your dorm was terrifying. You didn’t know where to go or who your roommate was going to be, and despite your previous experiences, it was already half way through the first semester, and every one else had their chances to collect their bearings. Luckily for you, you got your own room because everyone else had already moved in and had roommates.

...

Rumor had spread throughout campus that a new girl had moved in.

“Apparently she’s English,” or “she transferred from medical school” or “she’s a music major” were all things that Harry heard walking down the halls of his dorm and through the lawn and in classes.

It seems like this new student was all anyone ever talked about.

He couldn’t say he wasn’t intrigued, for he was English too, and curious at that, but he was an art student and you were a music student, so he never saw you around, and none of his friends had ever met you either.

As February rolled by, you had found that you adjusted quite nicely, making a few close friends and acquainting yourself with new faces.

The weather was probably your favorite part about this school. Back home, you would never even dream of studying outside on the lawn in the middle of the winter, but here you are, sitting in a circle with a few of your friends, talking and laughing about music and strumming your guitar.

Harry had his headphones in walking home from class. He was tired and he really just wanted a quick nap. It was Tuesday afternoon and the sun was shining, so there were tons of people on the lawn. It wasn’t a new thing for people to be playing instruments or singing when it was nice outside, so he didn’t bat an eye when he heard strumming of a familiar song.

But his eyes widened when he heard an accented voice that matched his own. His eyes followed a group of students, most he had seen before, but he didn’t recognize the girl with the English accent.

She must be the new girl.

Harry convinced himself that he didn’t want to go back to his dorm to work on his art, but it was such a beautiful day that he would sit on the lawn and sketch his little heart out.

He found himself staring at the girl, memorizing every freckle and curve of her face, quickly looking at his lap when you caught his eye, feeling like you were being watched.

“Who’s that?” you asked your friends, pointing at the boy sitting by himself, nose buried in his sketch book.

“That,” Jack said, eyes widening, “is Harry Styles. Probably the hottest guy on campus.”

Margot rolled her eyes. “Jack’s just mad because he’s not into guys. He’s British like you, ya know.”

“He is hot,” you say, looking over at the boy with curly brown hair and tattoos littering his arms. “I should introduce myself.”

“Yes girl, get it!” Jack cheers. Rolling your eyes, you walk over to him.

“Can I sit?” you ask, looking down at Harry. He looks up at you eyes widening, scrambling to close the sketchbook that was full of drawings of you. He couldn’t help it, you were just so gorgeous. He nods his head slowly, eyeing you up a bit.

“‘M y/n,” you say, holding out your hand for him to shake.

“Harry,” he says, engulfing your hand in his large tattooed one. His rings catch your eye, reflecting the light and making him look that much more intimidating. “You’re English,” he remarks, not asking, but rather telling as if you didn’t already know.

“Yeah,” you laugh nervously, his stare making you slightly uncomfortable.

“Sorry,” he says apologetically. “Jus’ never seen you around here.”

“‘M new. Transferred last semester.”

Harry was interesting. He was funny, sweet, but a little reserved and intimidating, too. He was an art student that looked like he was the lead singer of a rock band. He dressed in dark jeans and jumpers and wore necklaces and rings. Never what you would have expected to be attracted to, being an ex-medical student and all. But, despite your doubts, you found him very appealing.

The conversation ended when he had to get to class, so you bid him farewell and returned to your group of friends, egging you on for every detail of your previous conversation.

...

The week finally rolled along to Friday, and you were set to go to bed early and watch netflix alone, in proper need of some me time. Your friends, however had other ideas when they barged into your dorm with a bottle of wine and the skimpiest dress they could find.

“Come on, y/n, please!” Jack begged you, walking to your closest and rifling through your clothes in the most extra way possible. He pulls out a pair of lacy panties and a matching bra. “All of your clothes make you look like a prude, so you’re wearing this.”

“Hey!” you say, snatching the undergarments from him and shoving them back into your drawer. “I’m so spent tonight, I really don’t feel like going out.”

“But,” Margot says, pulling your makeup out from your desk, “a certain British boy will be there.”

Suddenly all parts of you that were fatigued and not wanting to go to a party change their direction and you’re snatching the dress from Jack’s hold and going to the bathroom.

“Forgot something, sweetie,” he teases, throwing the lacy underwear at you.

You looked hot. You weren’t gonna lie. The black velvet dress clung to all your curves and stopped right above your knees, scrunching up on the sides with little ties. Your hair was curled and eyeliner sharp, and you honestly felt a little overdressed for a little college house party. Little did you know, LA art students don’t mess around at house parties.

To say that heads didn’t turn when you walked in the room would be a complete lie. All eyes were on the new girl, including a familiar pair of sparkling green ones.

Harry was intrigued, to say the least, watching the new girl dance around the house, nursing a drink and laughing with her friends. He wasn’t much of a party guy himself; he had a lot of friends, sure, but he preferred just to stay home or have small get togethers with them.

He felt himself being drawn to you, sliding in between grinding bodies and swaying slightly to the music as he neared your own dancing body.

“D’you wanna dance with me?” Hot breath fans over the back of your neck, goosebumps erupting over your skin. Spinning on your heels, you weren’t all too surprised when you were face to face with the only other Brit in the room. His gaze flickered across your face, brow furrowed and concentrated as he set his hands on your hips. You threw your own arms around his neck giggling to yourself as you saw Harry smile for the first time since you met him. His perfect white teeth had butterflies erupting in your belly.

You danced for a while longer, all the alcohol you had consumed earlier finally catching up to you. Giggling as you lose your balance, Harry catches you, holding you still before smashing his lips to yours.

Mere seconds felt like hours as his lips touched yours. You barely knew the guy, but for some reason it felt like the best kiss of your life. Yet, somehow, you knew you wouldn’t remember it in the morning, so you focused on the present and how he made you feel.

He made you feel good.

It felt like nothing you had ever felt before, sparks flying and hearts pounding and every other phrase used to describe something completely and utterly amazing. You got lost in his lips, memorizing every inch.

You pulled away, not completely unaware of the lust in the curly haired man’s green eyes.

“I’m gonna go get a drink,” you tell him over the booming music, slipping out of his arms and entering the much quieter but still noisy kitchen.

“Y/n! Where’d you go earlier?” Margot questioned, smirking at the lipstick smudged across your face.

“Jus’ dancing,” you slur, getting yourself another cup of whatever alcohol was on the counter.

“Mhmm,” she says, knowingly raising her eyebrows and taking your cup, replacing it with a bottle of water. “Think you’re done.” You groan, begrudgingly taking a sip out of the bottle, your body silently thanking you for ending it’s torture.

Harry wasn’t sure how it happened, but as soon as you left him, he was being dragged onto the dance floor by some girl, he wasn’t sure who, and was being grinded on and made out with.

“Y/n,” Jack said, tugging Margot by the arm, eyes widening “do you want to head back to your dorm now? We know parties aren’t really your thing.”

“What! I’m having so much fun!” you sway on your heels, trying not to fall down. “Why do we have to leave I-” your heart dropped in your chest.

Harry’s tongue was dancing with some random girl’s, not even five minutes after he had kissed you. Maybe it wasn’t the end of the world, maybe you shouldn’t have been so attached to a man that you had just met and just kissed once, maybe you were drunk, but you didn’t care. It felt like your world was crashing down.

You ran as fast as your bare feet could carry you, Jack and Margot chasing you, yelling at you to slow down, but you didn’t listen.

Harry saw you run out of the party, pushing the girl sucking his face off and palming him through his jeans away. He thought that maybe he should go after you, but he didn’t feel like it’d be welcome. He ran his hands through his hair, eventually following your lead and leaving the party to head back to his own dorm.

Your feet carried you all the way to your room, unlocking it and throwing yourself on the bed, mascara tears staining your pillow case.

“Hun,” Jack says, petting your hair and pulling it back into a pony tail. “Don’t worry about this prick. He’s not worth your time.”

The rest of the night was spent with Jack and Margot holding back your hair as you threw up what seemed to be everything you’ve eaten in the past two weeks, and you crying about you didn’t even remember what anymore.

Harry tried to sleep that night, still buzzed and tired from the party and the previous week, but he couldn’t seem to rest his racing mind. He got out of bed, only clad in a pair of boxers, and went to his desk, pulling out his sketch pad and getting to work. He drew line after line and shadow after shadow, constructing a piece that he felt genuinely proud of, something he hasn’t felt in what seemed like ages. He knew that it needed to be seen.

...

Your head was pounding. Absolutely hammering in your head. Jack and Margot were passed out on the floor, blankets and pillows and water bottles littered the bedroom and after seeing the stains on your pillow, you really didn’t want to look in the mirror. However, you eventually had to get out of bed, throwing the covers off your bare legs and sluggishly walking into the bathroom. The best part about transferring in the middle of the year, you found, was that you didn’t have a roommate to share the bathroom with, or someone that would see you like this.

“Holy fucking shit,” you whispered, taking in the reflection looking back at you. Your cheeks were tear-stained with black streaks of mascara, your hair was matted and had chunks of something you hoped was not throw up in it. Not to mention that you were still wearing your dress from last night, except now it was bunched around your torso like a tight potato sack.

You stripped, throwing your clothes onto the floor and getting into the shower. The hot water cascaded down your head, wetting your hair and face and washing all of the regret away. You were in the heavenly water for a good long time, fingers starting to prune up from the steam and liquid.

Walking back into your room, you were pleasantly surprised to see that Jack and Margot had left a note on your bed, saying that they went to get breakfast and would be back soon. You thanked God that it was Saturday and you didn’t have any classes.

You immediately got back into bed after you dried off, pulling the covers up to your chin and closing your eyes, hoping to calm the pounding in your head just a little bit. That’s why, when there was a quiet knock on the door, you didn’t get up immediately, thinking that it was just a courtesy knock from Jack and Margot before they barged in with food. But when that didn’t come and the hallway quieted, you rolled yourself off the bed, grumbling to yourself and opening the door.

“Hello?” you say to no one in particular, seeing as there was no one on the other side of the door. You looked around, peeking your head into the deserted hallway, before finally looking down and seeing one of those big orange manila envelopes. You figured it was something from the front desk or maybe a letter from your mom telling you how you were making a mistake, but bizarrely enough, there was no address or even name. You took one more look around the hall before going back into your room and shutting the door behind you.

Curiously, you picked open the envelope with your fingernails, carefully ripping the paper. You pulled out the paper inside the envelope.

Shocked was an understatement to how you were feeling. A gorgeous portrait of lines and shapes that created none other than your face. It was a little chilling, knowing that someone has been examining your face and features so closely, but also because there was no name or address...not even a note.

“What’s that?” Jack asks, barging into the door, arms full of muffins. He throws you one, sitting down on the bed next to you and examining the paper in your lap.

“Someone left it at my door, but there’s no note or name or anything,” you say quietly, eyes scanning the picture. “That’s weird, right?”

“Ooh,” Margot says. “Somebody’s got a secret admirer!”

“More like a stalker,” Jack remarks, tracing the paper with his fingers. “Who do you think would do this?”

You honestly had no clue. The only visual arts student you knew was...no.

“Harry!” Jack says. “It has to be Harry!”

“There’s no way in hell it’s Harry,” you remark, slipping the paper back into it’s envelope and placing it onto your desk, changing the subject to the events of the previous night.

...

A few weeks later, Harry found himself drawing constantly; whether it was small sketches or bigger works, they all had one common factor; they were of the same woman he couldn’t get out of his head.

You, on the other hand, had received quite a few more drawings stuck under your door. At first, you weren’t all that phased, but you couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that you didn’t know who was doing this.

Margot had called it a ‘secret admirer’ but you weren’t quite sure whether it was that, or a stalker. Sure, it was sweet and all the drawings were beautiful, but how did said person find out where your room was? Or how did they know when to put the drawings by your door so they could have enough time to leave?

Jack had suggested that you sit by the door until there’s a knock, so one night, you settled by the door, rather impatiently waiting.

Nothing.

Still nothing.

Feeling your eyes get heavy, you let yourself go, falling limp against the door and succumbing to a deep sleep, so when you were startled awake from a knock on the wooden door, you weren’t able to register what had happened fast enough.

Sure enough, when the door swung open there was another envelope, just like all the other ones you had received, except this time, something caught your eye.

There was a date and a time scribbled in messy handwriting: 7 PM, 2/23.

Your brow furrowed, staring at the information written on the paper, eventually pulling our your phone and sending a picture to your friends.

what does this mean ? you wrote, referring to the information you had received.

OMG! that’s the art show tomorrow! jack responded

you have to go now! Margot sent

You were a little creeped out to tell the truth, but you wanted nothing more than to find who the mystery artist was, and why they wanted you to go to the art show.

It was no surprise when Jack and Margot barged into your dorm the next day, rifling through your closet and styling you.

“It’s a goddamn art show, not a party,” you said as Jack pulled out another frumpy dress that he probably made you buy.

“Okay, and?” he asked, fluttering his lashes that were honestly far longer than you could ever get yours.

So, here you were, standing in the middle of the art hall, hair and makeup done, looking nervously around the exhibits that other students had created. They were all really beautiful, but you found yourself being drawn to one in particular .

A large oil painting of a girl with y/e/c and y/h/c laughing with a guitar in her hands was standing at the center of the room on an easel. The sky was painted with deep purples and blues and pinks and you couldn’t help but gape at the blending of colors. Something about the painting was familiar, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

“Mr. Styles, is this the model you used for this gorgeous work?”

“Er... Yes, actually.”

You stop in your tracks, glancing up at the painting one more time and then turning towards the voices. Harry.

Harry painted this. And it was a painting of you.

You opened your mouth to say something, closing it after nothing came out.

“You-?” you whispered, still awestruck from the fact that Harry was the artist.

“Yeah,” he says, scratching the back of his neck and giving you a shy smile.

“And the drawings?”

He nods his head.

You stand there in awkward silence for a moment before he motions for you to come follow him. Your steps fall in place behind his as he leads you outside into the cool February air.

“I thought I should explain...” he says, ruffling his hair but not looking at you. “Tha’ night, at the party,” he starts, pausing for a moment to gather his words. “When I kissed ya... I felt something. And I know you did too... and then tha’ girl, whashername?”

You just shrugged your shoulders, slightly amused by the crease formed in the man’s forehead.

“Anyways,” he continues, “doesn’t matter. But when she kissed me and I saw you run out, and she kissed me,” he emphasizes the last part, widening his eyes and you just shake your head, lips curling up into a smile. “An’ I was gonna run after you but I didn’t think I’d be welcome... so I knew I needed to make it up to you... and after I met you on the lawn I couldn’t get the image of you laughing with your friends outta my head and I just knew I had to draw you and-” he continues to ramble on, but you just shush him, gripping your shirt in your fists and pressing your lips to his.

He trips slighty but you hold him into place by the fabric of his shirt, his hands eventually sliding onto the small of your back.

“D’ya wanna go out with me?” he asks as you pull away, his eyes glimmering in the sunset as you both catch your breaths.

“Yes,” you say, laughing slightly. “I do.”

Harry called you a few days later, asking if you wanted to go get coffee at a shop that he went to often. You obliged, saying that you would love to, ‘forgetting’ to tell your two best friends so they would leave you be to get ready.

You were excited; it was your first real date with Harry, and you liked him a lot. You had chemistry and it was clear as water to anyone who saw.

Walking into the coffee shop and looking around, Harry’s arm waving at you caught your eye. He gave you a warm smile, gesturing to sit at the seat across from him.

“Hey,” you say, greeting him.

“Hi,” he says, pulling your chair out for you before sitting down in his own seat. “I ordered you a latte. I hope that’s okay?”

“Perfect,” you say, pulling the coffee to your lips, choking on it at the sight of a certain painting hanging on the wall.

“Har- that’s- that’s your painting!” you tell him. He only smirks and nods his head.

“’S on display,” he says, resting his head on his hand. “Thought everyone should have the pleasure of looking the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

You blush, taking another sip of your latte, before a little kid comes up to you, chocolate smudged across his face.

“Is that you?” he says, pointing a chubby finger at the picture. You chuckle.

“Yeah, actually, it is.” you say, smiling at his mom as she apologetically takes her boy by the hand.

“Guess you’re a celebrity now, huh?” Harry says.

“You made me famous,” you tell him, grinning at the green eyed boy in front of you.

285 notes · View notes

tyrannoninja · 4 years ago

Text

Mayhem at the Menagerie

Egypt, 1345 BC

I crouched at the edge of our woven papyrus raft and peered down at the dark green-blue water, harpoon in hand. Along the river’s edge near the reeds, there drifted a plump tilapia almost two feet long. I licked my lips at the thought of chowing down on its succulent flesh. The fish would feed both Nebet and I for at least one day, if not two.

I stabbed at the tilapia. It escaped by darting over to the reeds, where it vanished. Under my breath, I cursed Sutekh’s mischief for hexing my aim yet again. The aardvark-faced Lord of Chaos had caused me nothing but grief and disappointment since we had set out on the day’s expedition early in the morning.

Nebet, my niece of ten years, held up a line of rope with a hook, a tiny morsel of mutton affixed to it. “You sure you don’t want to use the lure, Aunt Takhi?”

I gave her a half-serious scowl while accepting her lure with a grumble. I would always protect the child with my life, but I had to admit that she had grown into quite the smart mouth over the last few years.

I plopped the hook into the water. “I must have underestimated how rusted my fishing skills have grown. When I was your age, Nebet, I would put all the boys to shame at this.”

“Maybe find yourself a man who would do the fishing for you?” Nebet asked. “There should be plenty to go around, and most of them seem to like you.”

I raised my eyebrow. “How would you know that?”

“Whenever you go by, they always seem to look at you twice. And you know that old Vizier Ay from way back? I remember he sounded like he wanted you for himself.”

The memory of that shriveled husk of a man, that lecherous lackey of the false Pharaoh, flooded the inside of my mouth with a sour flavor. The passage of five years since we last crossed paths had not softened my distaste for him and his minions. I would sooner swim with crocodiles than occupy the same room as him.

“You have seen much more than any child your age should see, my little niece,” I said. “As far as men are concerned, the problem I have isn’t that I can’t attract any. If anything, they like me more than I like any of them.”

“Then maybe you like women more, Aunt Takhi?” Nebet said. “Maybe you could have another woman in place of a man?”

I rolled my eyes with a laugh. “No, no, I prefer men in the way you mean. It is only that I haven’t found a man worthy of our house. Maybe I should consult the priestesses of Hetheru. They might know why.”

For most of my life, it was Sekhmet I served more than any of the other old gods or goddesses. Yet the stories held that Sekhmet, she of the lion mask and blood-stained gown, was in truth another guise of the loving bovine Hetheru. Perhaps calling upon my patron goddess would convince her to shift forms and answer my prayer for love.

“I thought there weren’t any more priestesses of Hetheru?” Nebet said. “The Pharaoh shut all their temples down long ago. Don’t you remember?”

She was right. Too often, my mind drifted back to the better days of my youth, before the false Pharaoh assumed the throne and desecrated everything his righteous father had built and maintained. I had to return to the present, not think too much of the past or future, and get back to fishing.

I checked our hook beneath the water’s surface. The bait had disappeared, yet there was no fish attached. They must have figured how to bite off the meat without getting themselves caught. How foolish I had been to let myself get distracted!

A wave rocked our raft from the side. Over by the far bank, a man screamed while splashing and thrashing his arms in the air. Zipping through the water towards him was the bumpy, olive-brown wedge of a crocodile’s head.

I told Nebet to watch the raft and dove in. Moving my arms in sweeping arcs while kicking my legs behind me, I propelled myself through the warm and murky river after the struggling man. The current kept pulling him away from me, and the crocodile advanced with greater speed.

Another splash. A cloud of blood stung my eyes under the water’s surface. The crocodile seized the man’s arm and pulled him deeper into the river. I took a deep breath and swam after the reptile, whipping out my bronze dagger from the sash around my loincloth. The beast’s swishing tail kept pushing me back with stirs of the current.

I could not catch up to the crocodile, no matter how much I pushed myself through the water.

I had to attack from afar. I threw my dagger into the crocodile’s neck. It released the man in its recoil, and I scooped up the man in my arms. He weighed more than me, but I wasted no time hauling him back to the surface.

Suddenly, sharp teeth pierced my calves. The crocodile dragged me into the depths, stretching the muscles of my leg with every shake of its head. I rammed my other heel into its snout, to no avail.

Then something shot into the space between the crocodile’s eyes. After its jaws released me, it fell limp into the darkness below, the narrow shaft of a harpoon sticking out through the blood that jetted from its wounds. In the distance, the enlarging silhouettes of more crocodiles emerged, all closing in on their injured neighbor. As I made my way to the surface, I could hear their ravenous chomping amidst the gurgle of water.

Once I resurfaced, I found our raft floating right next to me in the middle of the river. “Did you throw that harpoon, Nebet?”

She shook her head. “That would be him.”

The man I had rescued lent his hand to pull me onto the raft. His coppery skin, more typical of the provinces of Lower Egypt much further downriver, contrasted with my own dark umber color by a couple of shades.

“I owe you everything I have for saving my life over there,” he said with a subtle Lower Egyptian drawl.

I wrung the water out of my dreadlocks. “The same for you. You’re not from around here, are you?”

“You guessed correctly, my girl. My family’s from the countryside near Djedet. Matter of fact, I’ve been up here at Waset for, what, only since the last inundation?”

He ran his hand over his shaven scalp and smiled at me with full lips between his moustache and short beard. I had to admit that he was somewhat handsome in a trim and lean way. Judging by the way he ran his eyes along the contours of my figure, he seemed more interested in my own good looks.

“Sorry, forgot to introduce myself,” the man said. “Call me Nenwef. And you are…?”

“Takhaet. And this would be my niece, Nebet. I had to take her in after her parents, well, got into some trouble with the Pharaoh.”

“Takhaet, you say? I’ve heard of you somewhere before. Yes, you were one of the last Pharaoh’s favorite warriors!”

I grinned as I stroked one of the gold fly medals attached to my necklace. “Those were the good times. If only our new Pharaoh would find as much for me to do.”

“Tell me about it. He seems so preoccupied with that whole new god of his that he’s left everything else to the jackals. Which, come to speak of it, is why I left Djedet for Upper Egypt. You’ve heard the whole Delta’s been overrun with pirates and bandits, haven’t you?”

“By the gods, no! Has it gotten that bad down there?”

Nenwef gave me a grim frown. “Believe me, girl, that’s putting it mildly. Some of them come from all around the Great Green Sea, such as the Canaanites, the Greeks, and these newcomer barbarians they call the Sea Peoples. The saddest thing, however, is that some of our people have been going pirate as well, either due to bad influences or simply to make ends meet. Wherever they’re from, they’re all turning Lower Egypt into a mess worse than a den of ravenous hyenas.”

“Excuse me, Nenwef, but what were you doing in the middle of the river, anyway?” Nebet asked.

“Oh, I was out catching some fowls for my evening meal. Then I bumped into some ornery hippos… and you know the rest.”

Along the far riverbank, I spotted a distant herd of hippopotami milling about in the water. Yet I could not make out anything that looked like a capsized raft. Perhaps the gluttonous brutes had eaten the reeds that made up its body.

“I should have a few ducklings stored at my place,” I said. “You’ll be welcome to spend the evening there. Tomorrow, we’ll row you back home.”

Nenwef bowed to me. “Thank you very much again, my lovely lady.”

I felt a warm flush in my cheeks. Behind me, I could hear Nebet’s giddy snickering.

We did not dine on anything grand for our evening meal. I simply warmed up some of the ducklings I had stored, along with a bowlful of bread, in my front yard oven. I took these and three cups of frothy beer on a platter to our hut’s flat thatched roof, where Nebet sat in watch while Nenwef rested on my wooden bed. Blood-stained linen bandages covered the area on his arm where the crocodile had bitten him.

I laid the platter by the bed. He plucked up a duckling with his good arm and bit into it. “Not bad. Almost as good as the ones my old mother would cook when I was a boy.”

I prodded my elbow into his ribs. “Almost as good?”

“Don’t feel ashamed. Not many could even compare to her cooking.”

“Her birds were hand-caught, I presume? Because I bought these at the marketplace a couple of days ago. Small wonder they’d be a step down from whatever your mother could fix.”

Nebet was already polishing off her duckling’s bones. “I bet my mother could cook even better than yours.”

Nenwef laughed. “I’m sure she’d be flattered to hear that, but there couldn’t be any contest between them, believe me.”

“Nor should there be,” I added.

Nenwef got off the bed to stand up and gaze at the surrounding village of huts, dirt roads, and palm and sycamore fig trees planted between the buildings. When he faced the Nile to the west, its waters shimmering in gold from the sunset, he beamed with a contented sigh. He pointed to some alabaster-white structures rising from the treetops beyond the river’s farthest bank. “You can see the old Pharaoh’s palace across the river from here, you know? If only we had such lovely views back near Djedet.”

“It’s all flat swampland outside that city, isn’t it?” I asked. “Though I hear it is quite lush regardless.”

“I suppose it is.”

Nenwef directed his eyes to my necklace of gold flies. “I don’t know if it’s true, but word on the street around here says that you, O Takhaet, fended off a whole pride of lions once. Or was it leopards?”

The breeze blowing over my village, once balmy, had turned cold as midnight. How had he even heard of that incident five years ago? “It…was both. There were only three of them, and they were each a cross between lion and leopard.”

“I see. And they also said you sent a whole herd of gazelles stampeding over the Pharaoh’s men when they were out to arrest you for heresy.”

“That’s true as well. In fact, I later sent those lion/leopard cats after them, too. But how do you know about all that? Ay promised me he’d cover the whole affair up.”

With a sly smirk, Nenwef shook his head. “Oh, I didn’t have to hear it straight from the Vizier. Like I said, it was word on the street.”

I remembered that my whole village had celebrated our act of rebellion against Akhenaten’s henchmen with jubilant drumming and dancing, the roasting of cattle and game, and everyone chanting in praise of Sekhmet. The battle roar I let out in her honor rang within my ears again. I should have known the people of my village would recall that occasion with the same vivid colors.

“Whatever way I came to hear of it, those have to be the most amazing feats I’ve ever heard of,” Nenwef said. “So amazing, indeed, that they’ve inspired me to stand up to the false Pharaoh’s tyranny myself. He can’t go on lazing in that shining new palace of his while the rest of Egypt breaks down with barbarians at its gates. No, I intend to march in there and give him a piece of my own mind!”

I spat out the beer I had imbibed. “You don’t expect he would even let you set a single foot in his great house, do you?”

“He is supposed be Pharaoh, the steward of Upper and Lower Egypt, is he not? He has no choice but to listen to his people at some point, even if what they’re telling him isn’t what he wants to hear. You expect me to do nothing while he lets raping thieves tear my home province apart?”

“No, of course not! What I do expect, however, is that he’ll have you thrown out. Maybe fed to his lions, or whatever he keeps in his little menagerie.”

Nenwef laid a hand on my shoulder with a grin. “Which is where you’ll come in, my girl. Why don’t we persuade him together? His best guards couldn’t restrain a seasoned warrior like you even if they tried.”

I dropped my cup of beer onto the thatching below. “No. Out the question. I can’t leave Nebet here all alone while I go off with you.”

Nebet looked up at me with sparkling eyes, wringing her fingers together. “Then why not bring me with you, Aunt Takhi? I’ve always wanted to see what the Pharaoh’s new capital looks like. I heard it’s magnificent.”

“I heard that too, but you should know it’s all been built on the backs of starving men, women, and even children your age,” I said. “And I would never dare let either Akhenaten or his slavering pack of jackals near you. You should stay where you’ll be safe, little baboon.”

“I wouldn’t assume she would be in danger,” Nenwef said. “Akhenaten might be cruel, but even he should know that hurting a child for the world to see would turn all his subjects against him. Not to mention, he goes out of his way to present himself as doting on his own young.”

“So you think that means he’ll have mercy on the children of his enemies, too?”

“What I mean is, we could use your niece’s presence to temper his wrath. I say bring her along with us. Together, we can convince Pharaoh of the error of his ways.”

He curled his hand into a fist and nodded. “Do we have a deal, Takhaet?”

“You mean all the error of his ways, or simply the error affecting your province back in Lower Egypt?” I asked.

“All his ways, trust me.”

With a shrug, I bumped his fist. “Then we have a deal.”

Nebet clapped her hands. “Yay! I get to see the Pharaoh’s new city after all.”

I gave her puffs of fluffy hair a playful scratch. “And maybe help change the course of his rule for all history to record.”

The sun had only begun to sail up from the east when we walked off the ferry onto the dock, yet the towering entrance to Akhenaten’s new capital blasted us with the brilliant glow of walls a purer white than the limestone casing of the ancient pyramids. Inscribed on each side of the entrance were the painted likenesses of the Pharaoh and his Queen receiving the gold-handed rays of his god Aten with open hands. Flanking them were the relatively miniature figures of their children.

Nenwef hadn’t lied when he said Akhenaten wanted to present himself as benevolent towards his own family. Perhaps he was. Yet the knowledge that the false Pharaoh had conscripted whole gangs of youths and children, some no older than my little niece, to build his new home had dimmed the luster of the architecture.

From beside the entrance’s doorway, two royal guards marched towards us. One of them bowed his head to Nenwef, who whispered something into the man’s ear. I thought that little exchange strange for a native of Lower Egypt who claimed to be a newcomer to all the upriver provinces.

“Welcome to Akhetaten, our new capital,” Nenwef said. “I was, uh, telling the guard that we wanted an audience with the Pharaoh.”

“Will we get to see the menagerie soon after?” Nebet asked.

Nenwef winked at her. “Soon, little one. Very, very soon afterward.”

The guard displayed a cheerful smile full of radiant white teeth. “We’ll be very happy to give you a tour of Akhetaten in all its glory, my lady. First, however, the Pharaoh requests your presence in the Temple to Aten. Follow us.”

The guard’s singsong chime with made me shudder with a chill despite the morning’s rising warmth. Nor did I care for the name Akhenaten had chosen for his new abode. It sounded too much like his own name, except for a hard “t” in place of the “n”. He could only have intended that similarity.

We followed the guards through the entrance and a series of white-walled plazas and alleyways, all shaded with rows of columns and stands of trees and flowers that flooded the place with a natural fragrance. Even the tiled floors dazzled with a smooth polish unmarred by the dirt or grime of a normal city street. Did Akhenaten have his legion of servants wash the entire city every evening? Not even Amenhotep the Third, his nobler father and predecessor on the throne, would be so meticulous in keeping everything in his capital so clean.

Unless, of course, this whole city was nothing more than an overgrown palace for the false Pharaoh, rather than a place for people from all walks of life to call home.

We walked down an avenue bordered on both sides by a row of sphinxes watching us with stoic silence as we passed them. At the end was the entrance to the Temple of Aten, an edifice twice as tall as the city entrance we passed through earlier. Images of Aten, portrayed as a golden disk shooting down dozens of arms like a monstrous corruption of an octopus from the Great Green’s waters, adorned the temple gateway’s left and right sides. So this was the face of the false god Akhenaten wanted to force upon all of Egypt, instead of the gods we had always venerated!

We entered the temple and a broad, open courtyard fringed with palm and acacia trees. At its center stood none other than the Pharaoh himself, together with his Queen, Nefertiti.

Akhenaten did not appear much like his statues and wall reliefs. They showed him as a tall and lean man, albeit with a strange paunch on his belly like a pregnant woman’s womb. The man who stood before us, arms crossed and holding the royal crook and flail, was a stout bulb whose enormous gut glistened with oil like a ball of grease-stained mahogany. A devious grin spread across his pudgy face when he laid his beady eyes on me.

His Queen looked closer to my expectation. She was a slender woman with gleaming dark chestnut skin and a tall blue crown like a cylinder, which flared out at the top. The woman stood a head taller than her husband. Behind them stood another, much lankier man with a dreadlocked wig much too black for his wrinkled date of a face. There was no mistaking his smug sneer as that of anyone other than Ay, the old Vizier himself.

Akhenaten spread his arms wide apart. “Welcome home, my soldier Rameses. I knew you’d catch what once eluded my Vizier.”

“And I have to say you dress like a quite convincing commoner,” Nefertiti said. “You could’ve fooled even me.”

The man I had known as Nenwef bowed at the waist before the Pharaoh. “It helped that I did use to be one, before Your Highness lifted me up from my poverty. Though, I must remind you to give some credit to old Ay. The trap was his design, remember?”

I wanted to draw out one of my daggers —except I left all of them at home. They would have confiscated any weapons on me anyway. I could only screech out the worst profanity that came to mind. “How could you, Ay? It’s been five years!”

Ay strutted to me with a vindictive cackle. “Five years was all the time I needed for you to lower your guard, young Takhaet. Or were you foolish enough to think those ‘concessions’ I made, right after your beastly friends had decimated my men, were sincere in the least?”

He handed a bronze sword to Rameses, who ran his finger over its blade with a satisfied look before pointing it at my gullet. “She sure was gullible enough to believe I was a poor and oppressed commoner seeking rebellion like herself, wasn’t she?” Rameses said.

I took one step back, and bumped into the guards’ cowhide shields behind me. “What do you want from me this time? Because I’d sooner die than throw away the gods of our ancestors in favor of yours, you false Pharaoh!”

Akhenaten clapped his hands. “I admire your heroic devotion to the old ways, my subject, but you misunderstand me this time. I don’t seek to change your faith, but that of the one closest to you.”

Nefertiti knelt before my niece and reached a finger to stroke the girl’s chin, but Nebet jerked away to huddle by my side.

“You have to admit, she looks like she’s grown up in poverty,” the Queen said. “And you’ve been raising her all by yourself, like a single mother in the slums. That’s no way for a child to grow up, is it?”

“You’re wrong, you mean lady,” Nebet said. “We’re not poor, and Aunt Takhi has taken better care of me than you ever could!”

“Aw, she thinks I’m a mean lady, does she? Maybe she’ll think differently when I take her in. Unlike you, Aunt Takhi, we can afford all kinds of toys for our children in our big and clean, comfortable home. We even have a whole menagerie of animals from all over the world right here in this city. Wouldn’t you like to see the chimpanzees at least, little girl?”

I drew my hand back to slap the Queen, but Rameses grabbed my hand and pinned it against my body. The cold bronze tips of the guards’ spears dug into the nape of my neck.

“That isn’t going to work, bitch!” I said. “You can try to manipulate her all you want, but nothing you have to offer could ever replace her love for me. Or her mother, or her father. What happened to them, may I ask?”

“They…were every bit as unrepentant as you,” Akhenaten said. “So, I had to address them the only way I could. You need to understand, my subject, that I cannot allow a single voice of dissent to remain if I am to realize my vision for Egypt. If I do, who knows how many dozens might hear that voice? And whom might those dozens speak to in turn? You see how it could lead to my eventual undoing?”

“You would have nothing to fear were you a just ruler, Akhenaten.”

“Ah, but I do see myself as a just ruler. A ruler so just that he wishes to usher in a new age for our civilization, instead of clinging onto the obsolete traditions of our ancestors like cowardly children. Since you, on the other hand, have demonstrated time and time again that nothing I can do can change your mind, I have no choice but to eliminate you.”

“And I know precisely how you should do it,” Rameses added. “Credit where it’s due, this woman did save my life from a crocodile while I was in the river. Let us see how she fares against a whole float of them.”

Nebet tightened her arms on me. “No! How could you do that to her? Leave my Aunt Takhi alone!”

Nefertiti pounced and dragged her into her embrace. “Don’t worry, you won’t have to watch. Like I promised, I’ll take good care of—”

She shrieked as Nebet bit down on her arm. “Why, you little… Let’s see, should I feed you to the chimpanzees, or throw you down into the crocodiles with your aunt instead? I say, the latter sounds more fitting a punishment to me. Wouldn’t you say, Rameses?”

“Agreed. If they love each other as much as they claim, why don’t we watch them die together?”

Everyone around Nebet and I laughed like hyenas on the hunt. Even more so than Akhenaten or the rest of his clique combined, Rameses’ laughter made my legs buckle.

The guards did not withdraw their spears from my neck until they had escorted me into the city’s menagerie. Fences of bronze atop mudbrick foundations enclosed the animals’ living spaces, each of which contained trees, rocks, and at least one waterhole for drinking. I did appreciate that these pens resembled their animals’ native habitats to one extent or another. The hippos got a pool framed with papyrus and tall grass, the lions an expanse of sand and grass with a couple of acacia trees, and the chimpanzees a grove of fig and palm trees like their jungle home in Egypt’s far south.

Akhenaten took better care of his exotic pets than he did his human subjects.

We stopped at another pool. Unlike the hippopotamus pool, the bones of fish, goats, and cattle were strewn around scattered islets of stone, exuding an even more rancid odor than the musty one that rose from the still water. Over the edges of the pool swayed slender eucalyptus trees with white bark that seemed to be peeling off.

“These wouldn’t be like the crocodiles we have over in the Nile, mind you,” Rameses said. “We brought these over from a land very far away to the southeast. They can thrive even in seawater, hence why the natives call them ‘saltwater crocodiles’, or ‘salties’ for short. Aren’t they all beauties?”

I could only see the top of one crocodile’s head poking up from the opaque, muddy water. Even from a distance, it appeared nearly twice as big as the one from which I had saved “Nenwef”. I gulped down a mouthful of air.

“I think they need something to bring them out of hiding,” Nefertiti said. “How about feeding time?”

With a rocking swing of her arms, she tossed Nebet into the pool. I tore away from the guards, hurdled over the fence, and plunged myself into the water. It was deeper than I had anticipated; my entire body sank beneath the surface. Unlike the Nile a few days earlier, I could not see much more than a forearm’s span through the briny murk.

What I did make out was the shrill sound of a child’s scream. I breast-stroked through the pool to the source of the outcry, where the most gigantic crocodile I had ever seen clutched Nebet within its jaws. I threw my arms onto its neck and squeezed, pushing myself against the monster’s tremendous weight.

Another crocodile clamped onto the fringe of my loincloth. I hammered my sandal’s heel into the hinge of its jaw while still shoving myself against the first one. The second crocodile withdrew, a rip of linen in its mouth. Thus freed, I wrapped my legs around the first crocodile’s waist and turned it over onto its back. Flung out of its mouth, Nebet squealed with terror. I swam for her, but another crocodile blocked my way. The other two closed from behind, jaws agape with the stink of rotten flesh wafting out. Grabbing onto the third crocodile’s flank, I leapfrogged over it to Nebet.

A fourth crocodile seized her foot. After punching it in the eye, I inserted my fingers between its front teeth and pulled onto its jaws. I could only pry them open enough to release my niece’s foot before the beast shoved me back with a thrust of its snout. My back smashed against yet another monster’s jagged hide.

The crocodiles had surrounded and locked us in a tight circle of scaled flesh and snapping jaws. Nebet and I had no way to get around them.

We could only go one way. Down.

I hugged Nebet close to me and told her to take a deep breath. Together, we dove straight down into the pool’s salty muck, beneath the crocodiles’ pale bellies. Some of their brethren had already submerged and given chase, their jaws chomping mere inches from our toes.

One of the reptiles slapped us into a column of rock with its tail as it came out in front. It spun around and zoomed in, jaws agape, the cavernous black hole of its gullet wide open before us. As it approached, our lungs were drained of air.

I sank myself beneath the crocodile and shot my fist up into its chin.

We hurried to the surface, gulped in more air, and held onto the stony pillar’s summit, still gasping. The rest of the crocodiles slashed through the water after us as Nebet pointed to one of the eucalyptus trees standing on the reedy bank. “Can’t we climb those, Aunt Takhi?”

I nodded with relief. “Good thinking, little baboon!”

I kicked off from the rock to the pool’s edge, crawled up from the mud and wrapped myself around the nearest tree. Holding Nebet on my back, I clambered up the trunk, ignoring the way its shedding bark poked at my skin.

The tree shook. The crocodiles had gathered by its roots and were beating their heads against its trunk like woodcutters’ hatchets. One of them sprang up and tore my sandal off, forcing me to slip halfway back down. Right beneath my belly, the bole began to split.

The crocodiles kept leaping after us, their weight further knocking onto the tree with every fall. The instant the eucalyptus broke asunder at the waist, we jumped — and landed outside the pool.

The two guards stood over us, the tips of their spears hovering.

“Very impressive performance, I must say,” Akhenaten said. “I should’ve known not to have those trees planted there.”

I coughed out a puddle of salty mud. “At least you made those saltwater crocodiles feel more at home, I presume.”

Rameses drew out his sword, his face dark with a reddish tint of rage. “Since you eluded our crocodiles, you and your little brat will have to go the old-fashioned way!”

He chopped down. I rolled out of the blade’s way, hopped onto my feet, and yanked the spear out of one of the guards’ hands. With its shaft, I whacked Rameses’s ribcage and sent him tumbling into the crocodile pool. This time, I felt no impulse whatsoever to save him while the reptiles ganged up and bit him into pieces. The clamor of rent flesh and cracking bone became triumphant music to my ears.

Akhenaten pointed his flail at me. “Don’t think you can escape this time, my cunning leopard. Get her!”

The two guards charged, one with his spear as the other pulled out his dagger sidearm. I used the guard’s spear to pole-vault away, and then chucked it into its former owner’s face. The second guard threw his spear at me, but I escaped with a sidestep and retrieved it, too.

The surviving guard snarled. “You think you’re so clever, girl? Two can play that game!”

He threw his dagger at me. I raised the spear to parry it, but it split in two when the blade hit. As he pulled the other spear out from his fallen comrade’s skull, I sprinted and pounced towards him. The guard swatted me away in mid-arc, and I tumbled over the fence into another enclosure.

It was another forested pen, but it was not chimpanzees that awaited me inside. Instead, there dashed a stocky cat bigger than any lion I had seen, but without a mane. The black stripes running up and down its deep orange coat blended into the shadows cast by the trees and tall grass. It bared its fangs, its roar harsher and more spine-rattling than anything I had ever heard from a lion.

Nefertiti taunted me from outside the enclosure. She held a squirming Nebet in her arms, a hand pressed over the child’s mouth. “They call that a tiger over in the distant east. While he’s giving you trouble, I’m sure the chimpanzees will adore your feisty little niece as much as I do!”

I shouted my nastiest curse at her and lunged in her direction. The tiger’s claws cut across my back, and I stumbled onto my knees. The cat crouched down behind me, twitching its tail like a housecat about to pounce again. I wheeled around and waved my spear’s severed head in front of my face as a warning to the predator. It launched itself at me, but I somersaulted underneath it and stabbed it in the hip. Under my breath, I begged Sekhmet’s forgiveness for wounding one of her feline children.

I grabbed the branch of a fig tree and swung out of the tiger pen, landing on the remaining guard and knocking him out with a bang of my elbow.

Nefertiti had already reached the chimpanzees and was stretching her arms over the fencing with Nebet in hand. After hollering the battle roar of Sekhmet, I raced over and threw my weight onto her. I hooked an arm around the Queen’s neck, snatched her crown off her head, and tossed it into the enclosure.

One of the chimpanzees, who had been banging rocks together, picked up the blue crown to examine it. The ape hit it with one of the stones, denting the metal, and shook its head in seeming disappointment. Its face lit up again with a smile as it placed the crown top-first on the ground and sat on the lid like it was a stool. Nebet chuckled with girlish delight the same moment the whiff of feces hit my nostrils.

Nefertiti growled with disgust. “That is one vile child you have there, Takhaet!”

I smirked at her, still holding her neck in my arm. “You’re one to talk about others being vile, my Queen.”

Ay and Akhenaten stormed towards me, the Pharaoh brandishing his crook and flail like twin war clubs. “You know I have plenty more guards where those two came, commoner,” Akhenaten said.

I applied more pressure to Nefertiti’s throat. “Let’s see if they can get here before I choke the life out of this bitch you call your Queen!”

The Pharaoh’s eyes widened with horror. “Stop! What do you want?”

“Simple. Pardon my niece and I right now, and the Queen lives. Got it?”

“Fine. I shall clear both of your sentences…on one additional condition. You and your niece must leave Egypt forever. If we catch you returning thereafter, I’ll have you both thrown to the crocodiles. And by then, I’ll have all the trees in that pen cut down. You understand?”

I relaxed my grip on Nefertiti, to carry out my end of the deal. And something else. All my life, I had fought on behalf of my country and its beliefs, even if it meant defying the false Pharaoh once he had taken power. And, as a child of Egypt, were I to die without a proper burial away from its shores, I would never reunite with my ancestors in the afterlife. Instead, I would face an eternity of oblivion.

Even worse, my little Nebet would experience the same.

Nebet knelt before the Pharaoh and whimpered. “No, you can’t make us leave. Egypt has always been our home!” she pleased.

Akhenaten shook his head and pressed the top of his crook onto the girl’s head. “I am Pharaoh, he who commands all of Upper and Lower Egypt. I have already granted you and your aunt the permission to live. Consider your citizenship the price.”

Ay smiled with fiendish glee. “And why not? You didn’t think we would surrender everything to you with such ease, did you?”

As much as I wanted to jump onto the old jackal and hammer out what remained of his pathetic life, I knew he was right. Akhenaten had a whole force of guards he could summon within one pulse of my heart, not to mention his regular army. I could evade and fight back as much as I wanted, but I could never defeat him alone. Not while keeping my niece out of harm’s way.

I knelt in front of the false Pharaoh, drooping my head with a defeated sigh. “I accept your sentence, Your Majesty.”

Akhenaten nodded with a victorious grin. “Excellent. I’ll give you a month to pack up your belongings and then see you at the border, wherever you choose to go. May Aten bless you with good fortune the rest of your life.”

“And may he watch over your child as well,” Nefertiti added.

I dipped my head to them. “I will pray every day that he will, O Pharaoh and Queen.”

I lied. I had no intention of even muttering his false demon’s name again. If there was one thing I would never concede to Akhenaten, it was my faith in the gods of our ancestors.

Nebet ran up to bury her glistening tear-washed face into me. “You can’t do this, Aunt Takhi. We can’t leave home forever.”

I lifted her up in my embrace and stroked her hair. “I’m afraid we have no choice, my little baboon. But it may not be all that bad. If nothing else, we’ll spend the rest of our lives seeing the world together.”

I knew not where we would go. We might venture up the Nile south of the Kushite provinces, into the savannas and jungles and the many kingdoms therein. Or we might sail for the east, visiting the ziggurats of Babylonia, the temples and sacred wells of the Indus Valley, or the burgeoning cities of distant China. We might even head north to the rocky isles of the Greeks and Minoans, or even further into the snowy forests where tribes of red- and yellow-maned, white-skinned men prowled.

All I knew was that we could not remain in Egypt any longer. And that, wherever we did go, Nebet and I would always have each other.

As I walked away from the menagerie, heading for the city’s docks, I gave my niece a wink and a whisper. “It may not all be lost. Maybe we could, say, persuade someone abroad to take Egypt back for us. What say you, my little baboon?”

#Takhaet #short story #short fiction #fiction #writing #historical fiction #ancient egypt #egyptian #kemet #african #black woman #black people #poc #woc #woman of color #original characters #ocs #Akhenaten #Nefertiti

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anerdyfeminist · 4 years ago

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Health related stuff to follow, don’t read if periods/surgery stuff is hard for you. But if this is something you’re cool reading...what I’m going to say in a LOT more words is that it’s really, really fucked up how hard it is to get help with menstruation/uterus related medical care that actually WORKS and/or to be listened to or respected about those issues.

I keep thinking about how so many things have happened with my health in the past year that I haven’t even had time to mentally or emotionally process it and by the time that I could get a moment to try..............boom, pandemic. I can’t remember how much I’ve written here about it generally...BUT trying to summarize quickly, after the bad car accident that fucked up my arm and I had surgery to fix it, the MRI scans they took at the ER that night opened a god damn Pandora’s box of shit in there I needed to take care of. I went from understanding myself as a person who has one mild chronic health issue to..........someone with four.

The biggest issue that was discovered was a wide spread and a really advanced case of endometriosis. My gyno surgically removed multiple endometriomas from both of my ovaries, the largest of which was bigger than a grapefruit. After I recovered from surgery, I started taking the only medication that specifically exists to inhibit more endometrial growth and manage the pain. (And it’s a pretty new drug at that.) My doctor didn’t really fully consider that one of its biggest side effects is depression and anxiety and as someone whose mental health has only rather recently gotten in a better place, after a couple of months on this new medication, I felt like how I felt before I started taking anti anxiety meds. That was suuuuuper untenable and I couldn’t stay on it.

So I had to go back to square one on how to keep my endo at bay. But this time in the story of “how the fuck to treat this raging case of endo” we’re now into late March and in the pandemic when I get to the point where my doctor explains that pretty much the only other option for me is to try an IUD. Hearing that pretty much made me almost breakdown crying in the appointment. (I held it together long enough to get home for that.)

I’ve always loved that IUDs exist for people who want them, bc I’m obvi all about access to the birth control anyone wants and I have lots of friends who LOVE theirs and extol their virtues. But literally ever since the moment I learned about then when I was like 17 I have been super averse to the concept for myself. I had long ago filed IUDs under “NOPE” in my brain. I’m just one of those folks who is grossed out by the idea of foreign material just existing inside my body. But after going through having already had a bunch of hardware in my arm and knowing how shitty it felt trying the endo meds, I said FUCK IT and took the plunge to get an IUD.

(Side note: seeking this type of medical care in the middle of the pandemic was super creepy dystopian and like being in a fucking episode of A Handmaid’s Tale because I was usually the only person there who was not VERY visibly pregnant because only totally “medically necessary” procedures were allowed, all the masks, plastic partitions, spacing of patients, etc., etc. Just weird.)

The IUD insertion itself was a nightmare if I’m really honest and the ultrasound they did at that point disappointedly revealed ANOTHER endometrioma already growing back that my doc wants to now keep an eye on........BUT the good news is that bad insertion experience aside, so far I’m feeling pretty good about using it. It’s been almost 3 months with it and the biggest revelation by far has been that the terrible, monster periods I had FOR YEARS just didn’t need to be what they were. In such a short span of time having much much much lighter ones, I’ve already begun to wonder what I was thinking just trying to suffer through that experience for so long.

If you’ve read my stuff here over the past few years, you’ll know that my period was the most raging heavy and intense.......I mean, I have a whole fucking tag for it. I had to go out of my way to find the largest capacity menstrual cup IN THE LITERAL WORLD and I would fill it a few times a day. You’d hear me say “oh hey, FYI your periods can get much heavier the older you get” which is true, mind you, but I had no idea that what I was experiencing was really really well beyond the bounds of what is “normal” and indicative of a bigger health issue. I told my doctor (who I don’t really fault, she has a lot of good qualities) about it and she thought it was just normal aging stuff. I didn’t advocate for myself as much as I should have and she didn’t listen to me well enough as she should have and the result is that for about 5 years I had untreated and undiagnosed endo that resulted in that grapefruit sized endometrioma and all her friends.

There were other signs too...my cramps had gotten incredibly horrific. Once the endometriomas were all removed, I realized they had been doing stuff like pressing on my bladder, making it hard to pee/empty it all the way and I couldn’t lay in bed in certain ways pain free. Getting this diagnosis was scary but it all started to make sense. And it’s still making sense the more I unravel my understanding of the past several years of my life. What I was going through was not normal, but it also wasn’t being taken seriously by anyone, perhaps most of all, by myself.

So yeah, I’m still processing this news and seeking to better understand that I didn’t have to feel like that for so long. I’ve got this tendency baked into me to assume and accept that “life is suffering” (thanks, dad) and that you must grin and bear it and just survive. I think that when it comes to issues that involve menstruation or uterine issues, that this message is even LOUDER because we are shamed into not speaking about these things publicly by society more widely. Their discussion is stigmatized, belittled, glossed over, filed under “ewwwww grossssss” etc.

But obviously, that’s not how it has to be................if I am hurting or uncomfortable I am WORTH the effort of trying to figure out why and see if I can fix it. And if that issue involves my period or uterus or ovaries SO BE IT. There’s nothing inherently gross or TMI about that. They are body parts and they get conditions. That’s life.

Anyway, I really enjoyed Padma Lakshmi’s interview by Terry Gross on Fresh Air this week and it influenced me wanting to write this. She talks about her own endo story and it really resonated with me. (She also had a terrible arm injury in her past. We’re basically twins LOLOLOL.) As I said, I’m still processing ALL of this. But if there’s one thing I know for sure, it is that having endometriosis sucks but knowing you have it is waaaaaaaaay better than not knowing.

#period woes #mine #long post

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mauriacs · 4 years ago

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I feel like my quiz answer wasn’t 100% accurate and I was wondering if you could please publish all the different possible answers just to have a look at bc I love how you write and know there must be one that resonates 💕

the rest of them are under the line break - i didn’t really pay attention to matching up the answers to the descriptions bc i was too busy crying doing other things so like, go forth and resonate

The Winner Takes It All by ABBA

you love someone. you say, “oh, i’m over them. time to move on.”—you say this to everyone. your mother, your friends, yourself, in front of the mirror, watching as your skin twists around the words. but you love them, and there’s a gaping chasm in your chest. nothing seems to fill it. you wonder if they miss you too. maybe they haven’t even realised you’ve fallen apart. maybe they’re standing right behind you. maybe they’re a thousand miles away. maybe they’re both. they’re a parent, they’re a lover, they’re a best friend who you poured your soul out to when you were giggly and fourteen. maybe they’re you. still, time to move on, people to see, things to do, others to love (but never, it seems, as much as them). you hope they’re doing okay.

Five Years by David Bowie

you like crowds. not specifically human crowds – you like being crowded by trees, by birds, by air. you like the anonymity that comes with crowds. no one has the time to focus solely on you. you need these people. you invent their lives: the man with the broken arm (a back alley fight); the girl with the tote bag (her mother’s); the woman with the worry lines (a mother). you pour as much of yourself into them as you can so nothing can be left in you, so you don’t have to imagine this for yourself, so you can focus on any other life but your own. you’re desperate to be unseen, unheard, unnoticed. you also, equally desperately, want to be loved. i hope you are.

Goodbye Yellow Brick Road by Elton John

you are fixated on childhood. you may have completely removed yourself from it—the mud pies in the garden, rolling down the hills, uncaring—but you want it back. adulthood seems exciting, no doubt about that! autonomy, respect, the chance to go your own way. you’ve chased that road since you knew the meaning of the word, barrelling down the path to maturity just so you can, one day, get your own way. and now, as you see it panning out ahead of you, you look back—just this once—to the technicolour of childhood. you do it again. you do it again. you realise, one day, that you miss it most terribly. your childish wanderlust has gone, and now you’re in limbo—reaching forwards towards the next milestone and reaching back towards nostalgia and uncomplicated days.

Les pêcheurs de perles, “au fond du temple saint” by Georges Bizet

you don’t want to say goodbye. you miss them, sometimes so much that it kills you. one hug, one fucking hug, and you’d be okay. you’d do anything to see them, smell them, map the lines of their face with your eyes, map the pattern of freckles. they’ve just gone—vanished into thin air—and you keep thinking, you can’t stop thinking—i should have loved them more. you’ve never wanted anything so much in your life. to sit down with them, to love them, to thank them, to have them here. you’d do anything, absolutely anything, for them to be here, with you, right now. they’re growing faceless, in your mind. a figure without features, blackening your mind with absence. you want them. you miss them. i’m sorry.

Both Sides Now by Joni Mitchell

you’re numb. waves keep washing over you—hurdles, unexpected stumbles, horrible incidents, life-changing hurts—and the most they do is get your clothes wet. you are not taken into the riptide of anger and hurt that you see your friends pulled into occasionally. you figure, at first, that this way is better. you’re surviving. you’re holding on. you’re steadfast. and then you realise—oh. you’re feeling more than you’ve ever felt before. you’re hurting and the hurt is just bleeding out onto the floor around you, but you have a screen. you’ve seen friends (figuratively) die and spring back alive before you, hardly seeming to remember the fall. but you watched them drown. you watched the utter torture of it. so you resolve to spread it thin. feel it for longer. you’ll survive, at least.

Nobody Home by Pink Floyd

you’re desperately alone. you feel like you’re in the middle of a big, blank room. there are people in it—no doubt about that—but they walk through you. your friends tell you about their experiences together. you laugh for them. you love them, but you are appallingly worried that they don’t love you back, or don’t love you as much. as soon as you think you’re alone, everything becomes about solitude. you walk home alone. you lie awake in bed, alone. you bring up your hands to touch your face and pretend they’re someone else’s. you write poems or create art or make up a detailed scenario in your head, but that’s not real life. you want real life. you want someone to see you instead of watching you.

America by Simon & Garfunkel

you’re fake. everything you do seems to be for a false reason—to get affection, to get love, to get attention. you twist your face in the mirror and it seems like there’s a sheen of plastic covering it. you’re desperate to escape, to go somewhere and do something, but you’re afraid that your wanderlust is also fake and you’ll hate leaving. you’re worried that every emotion you’ve ever felt has been fake. what if everything you’ve ever done—every act of kindness, every compliment, every monotonous task—has been for a dishonest reason? what if everything you do is to project a carefully crafted image of yourself onto the world? what if you’ve never been genuine? you want to escape, you want to get out of yourself and this town and WHATEVER, but what if there’s nothing beyond your outer shell?

Why Does It Always Rain on Me? by Travis

you’re lost. everyone keeps talking to you—talking at you—and asking you questions that you couldn’t begin to know the answer to. “are you alright?” “how are you?” “what’s up?” you say okay. you’re too tied up to start to unravel the real answer. you look at yourself and you’re pretty convinced that you don’t like this stranger. they’re angry and whiny and they never seem to know what’s going on. get a grip, you want to say, but you’ve got your own problems to deal with. life doesn’t come down on you like a hurricane, or a tornado, but rather as rain. all it does is make you wet and cold. you have this turning cold knife of constant questioning in your chest, but you don’t know how to get rid of it. you don’t know what to ask. you don’t know how to ask. you’d sort of hoped there’d be more.

#one day i promise i'll create a quiz and put genuine effort in and make it less depressing and not so much about Me #but until that day..................#lsdjflfsa #anon #asks #i used a bit of the same imagery in a couple of them bc i am unimaginative

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shipaholic · 5 years ago

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Omens Universe, Chapter 1 Part 1

And here’s 600 years later. Gem powers activate!

Link to next part at the end.

---

(Prologue)

Chapter 1

3404 BC

Aziraphale pushed a hanging tree branch out of his face with a stick. All around, the sun baked the leaves to a gentle crisp. While angels didn’t sweat, his curls were perhaps a little frizzier than usual. He had been out here all day, wandering around the wooded savanna and poking the trees on the chance something would fall out of them. This was as much work as he felt equipped to do.

It wasn’t fair, sending him in unarmed. The main problem was that as far as Heaven knew, he was still in possession of a flaming sword. His stick was a poor knock-off; the best you could say was that it was at least flammable.

The branch swung back into his face. The angel frowned at it until it sidled out of the way, looking sheepish.

A voice from above said, “Is that a permitted use of a miracle, angel? Tree-shaming?”

Aziraphale jumped back and squinted into the canopy. “Reveal yourself, demon,” he said, without enthusiasm.

A pair of golden eyes blinked back at him, followed by a flicker of forked tongue.

“Oh, it’s you.” Aziraphale relaxed. “I see you’re a snake again.”

Crawly yawned, which in his current form was very impressive. “Why veer from a classic, I say.”

“It’s got you plenty of attention, I’ll say that much.”

“Oh yes, the apple thing. Still can’t believe Satan got all the glory.”

“Imagine, the Prince of Lies taking credit for someone else’s work.”

“Point taken.” Crawly slithered to the end of his branch. His long neck [1] glowed and then extended several feet to be closer to Aziraphale. The angel tried not to look perturbed. All angels and demons could shape-shift, but he found it unsettling.

“Is that your form… permanently, or are you still human-shaped most of the time?” he asked.

Crawly uncoiled from his branch and dropped to the forest floor like a silk rope unwinding. The serpent glowed, a ribbon of white among the leaves, and shifted back into a man.

Aziraphale had forgotten Crawly was an inch taller than him. His clothes had changed again since Eden - an ankle-length linen tunic with a waist tie, and a headdress covering his long hair. He must have been discorporated at least once more since they’d last met.

“Still not convinced, to be honest,” the demon said. He held out his bare arms and frowned at them. “Might just go snake full-time. It’s switching between them that’s the bugger. Always worried I’ll forget how to shape-shift back.”

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. “Can that happen?”

Crawly looked pleased, for some reason. “Ah - no. But I have an irrational fear that it will. I call it a ‘pho-bia’. I invented it,” he said, proudly.

Aziraphale didn’t see the point, and said so.

“No, no, it’s brilliant. Filling the world with useless things for humans to get upset about. It’s very demonic. I might get a second commendation out of it.”

Aziraphale didn’t even have one commendation. He said, a little stiffly, “But you’ve given yourself a… foe-beer. That can’t be very enjoyable.”

“It’s awful,” Crawly said, smugly. “That’s how I know I’ve done well.”

Aziraphale decided it wasn’t worth his while to argue. “Well. Congratulations.” He began to sidle away. He could probably find more trees to poke.

Crawly did not take the hint. He began to stroll side by side with Aziraphale. “I take it we’re both here on the same mission?”

Aziraphale eyed him. “I don’t know. You seemed to be taking a nap up a tree.”

“Surveillance,” the demon said, breezily. “I saw you coming a mile off. That’s a very nice stick. I hope Heaven gave you their best stick to replace the flaming sword you gave away. Got to admit, I wouldn’t want to swing a fiery blade around a forest. Might set the whole thing alight. Bit of a double-edged…” Crawly snapped his fingers, irritated. “Er. Thing.”

Aziraphale had forgotten how chatty the demon was.

“So,” Crawly said. He managed to imbue the syllable with a lot of meaning. “What have your people told you about -?” He did something significant with his eyebrows.

Aziraphale sighed. “Look, even if we were here for the same reason, which I cannot confirm, there is absolutely no chance I would share confidential intelligence with a demon.”

“Mmm. Fair enough.” Crawly walked by Aziraphale’s side in silence for approximately three steps. “I heard that one of your lot shagged a human and now a bunch of us are down here looking for its unholy offspring.”

So much for avoiding that PR nightmare. “Holy offspring, I think you’ll find.”

Crawly gave a triumphant, “Hah!”

“I’d ask for your discretion, but…”

The demon grinned. Aziraphale didn’t dignify his sentence by finishing it.

“Mind you, it’s not exactly fair to the poor bugger,” said Crawly. “The forces of Heaven and Hell descending on it - ascending, in my side’s case. Must have no idea what’s going on. It’s probably spent its whole life thinking it’s just a big human with a few extra pairs of eyes or something. Any idea what your people have in store for it?”

Aziraphale shook his head. “I imagine the first order of business is to confirm that the creature even exists. I’m not personally aware who… er, sired it. Apparently the culprit has gone to ground [2]. I haven’t been upstairs for a few centuries or I might know who it is.”

“They’re calling it a ‘Nephilim’,” Crawly said. “Means ‘giant’.”

Aziraphale glanced from side to side. The trees were thinning out. “I rather hope I don’t find it,” he confessed.

Crawly waved a hand. “You’ll be fine. You’ve got a stick.”

Aziraphale looked at his stick. It wasn’t even pointy.

He moved fractionally closer to Crawly.

“Ah. Perhaps, if we’re combining our efforts, it would be good of you to manifest your weapon?”

“Mmmm.” Crawly suddenly was interested in looking at a distant point off in the trees.

Aziraphale waited. The demon continued to act as if he hadn’t heard. “I said -”

“Yes, yes,” Crawly snapped. “I’d love to.”

Another pause.

“...Are you going to?”

“Don’t have one,” the demon said, all in a rush. “Stop asking.”

Aziraphale stared in a manner he would have had to admit was rude. The only angels made without weapons were at the very bottommost rung in Heaven. Celestial typists and coffee-fetchers, essentially. [3] Even the ones who were mass-produced in the last throes of the War got something you could lob, slice or stab with.

“My dear fellow - I beg your pardon -”

The demon moved like a whip. His nose almost touched Aziraphale’s; his breath was hot and hissing on the angel’s face. Behind him, his wings unfurled with a fwump and filled Aziraphale’s peripheral vision. The angel felt like a mouse getting its last glimpse before the snake’s jaws snapped tight.

“Do not. Beg. My pardon. Under any circumstances.”

Crawly’s golden eyes, at this distance, blurred into a single sun. Aziraphale, who had fared well in the African sunshine all day, felt a prickle of sweat.

“Quite so,” he stammered. “I meant no offence. Please forgive me.”

A pin could have dropped in the stillness [4]. Crawly slowly backed up so he could glare at the angel from a less intimidating distance.

“You don’t need my forgiveness. Go back upstairs, there’s a limitless supply of the stuff.”

He strode away, wings whipping like a cloak.

Then he took in the same thing as Aziraphale, and stopped dead.

The woods had entirely thinned out. They were in a clearing of tree stumps that had been sliced through so cleanly you could measure them with a slide-rule. Their tops looked lightly cooked, as if they had not just been severed but cauterised.

A young human stood in the middle of the felled trees. She held an enormous blade over her head. It was the kind of weapon that excitable types gave names to like Kingslayer, or Bane of the Damned. To say it was enormous was incorrect; if it was possible to take the concept of enormous and square it, that would be closer. It glowed like an electric coil and hummed an ethereal whine. It shone with the bright, clean light of Heaven.

The teenage girl holding it was the same size as the blade. She had frozen midway through swinging it at another tree. Her eyes were huge as she stared at Crawly and his open wings.

In the middle of her forehead was a glimmering gemstone. Aziraphale recognised it. He knew the angel it belonged to.

He swallowed. They’d found the Nephilim.

“Be not afraid,” he began.

The human screamed and ran towards them.

Crawly decided his wings had got him into this mess and they could damn well get him out. He took to the air so fast he left a demon-shaped afterimage. Aziraphale threw up his clenched right fist. The ring on his smallest finger glowed, and a shield extended from it.

The human barrelled into the shield face-first. She bounced off it and came back with her fist swinging. Her knuckles cracked against the shield with a noise like a wooden xylophone being struck. She seemed uninterested in using her blade, which came as a huge relief to the angel.

The Nephilim turned red in the face as she swung at Aziraphale over and over. The angel awkwardly parried, unsure whether it was a good idea to fight back. So far, this was the level of combat he felt comfortable with.

Crawly flapped cautiously back in range. He hovered behind the human’s head.

“I don’t know why, but I thought you’d be good at fighting,” he said.

Aziraphale was panting slightly. He gave himself a stern reminder that he didn’t need to breathe.

“I mean, they made you a guard. Gave you a flaming sword, for Hell’s sake.” The demon drifted sideways to keep pace as the fight inched to the right.

Aziraphale didn’t know how to explain that his job in Eden was to guard two humans with the trusting nature of toddlers. In fact, there would exist no words to put his role into context until the job of ‘mall cop’ got invented.

“Any chance you could lend a hand?” he asked, testily.

“With what?”

The angel lobbed his stick at him. He heard cursing and gathered it had smacked Crawly in the face, but he seemed to have managed to grab it all the same.

The Nephilim was tiring; her punches came in slower. Aziraphale saw an opportunity for diplomacy. “My dear. Would it not be easier to sit down and discuss this?”

“You are with this devil!” the girl panted. Her dialect was from one of the local villages. Aziraphale wracked his brains trying to recall the grammar. “You’ve come to take me to Hell!”

“Don’t look at me. I didn’t tell her,” Crawly muttered.

She did seem rather well up on what their plans were, Aziraphale had to admit. Or at least Crawly’s plans. Obviously Heaven’s intentions were benign, whatever they turned out to be.

“I assure you, I have no ties to Hell.” The girl aimed another punch at him; Aziraphale raised his shield to block it, but they were both just going through the motions by this point. Perhaps he should cut to the chase. “Actually, I’m an emissary of Heaven. That’s where I’m trying to take you.” He said it in the tones of one offering a trip to a magic chocolate factory.

The Nephilim lowered her fist, but tightened her grip on the scythe-axe. “You want to... take me to Heaven?” Terror dawned on her face. “You’re going to kill me?”

“Er…” said the angel. Heaven had been very vague on the subject.

The Nephilim stepped back. Aziraphale’s heart lifted, until she hefted the battleaxe and he realised she was just taking a run-up. She yelled, a throbbing desperate cry, and rushed him.

Aziraphale had time to wonder if discorporation was going to hurt.

The blade clanged down on his shield and Aziraphale splintered like a pane of glass.

---

[1] Basically all of him.

[2] Which really means something for an angel.

[3] Celestial coffee is served at 10,000 degrees and must be extracted from a neutron star, so in fairness, this is quite an important job.

[4] Displacing any angels hypothetically dancing on it.

---

(Chapter 1, Part 2)

#omens universe fic #omens universe #good omens #steven universe #good omens fic #you can tell it's early days because Aziraphale lets Crowley win an argument #and Crowley lets Aziraphale get beaten up #ok lol in his defence:#they're not friends yet #only Aziraphale has any capabilities of self-defence #and Crowley's still touchy because Aziraphale dissed his manhood errr weapon-summoning ability

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simonxriley · 5 years ago

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100 for Liz and Price! I can see Liz whining for a sandswitch when shes (not feeling well, with child, ect.) And Price finally giving in but its like 3 in the morning and thats why he didnt want to at first bc he has work and he was salty AF about her getting to stay home while he goes out (but only bc he was tired and he didnt wanna leave her)

*Rubs hands together* There’s a few ways I could’ve gone about this prompt but I decided to go to when Liz was pregnant because she craved a lot of food during that time and they were bickering idiots too. I pretty much took your idea of having Liz make Price leave the house for the sandwich, but I did change it up a bit. This is also more dialogue heavy but I do hope you enjoy this

Drabble Challenge!

Prompt: “You can only suffer through my whining for so long until you get up and make me a sandwich.”

Besides the constant feeling of discomfort, the mood swings and the weird cravings, Liz’s pregnancy was going swell. The baby was healthy, she was healthy and that’s the most she could ask for. Well maybe actually giving birth since she was eight months along and felt like she was carrying a watermelon, she just wanted him out at this point.

Since she was so far into her pregnancy, her days consisted of sitting, a lot of sitting and getting ready for their soon to be new arrival. Price still worked, but he was taking his paternal leave in a few weeks so he would be there for the birth knowing full well that Liz would have murdered him if he was to miss it because of work. And he wasn’t going back until she was all healed up.

Liz was happy that he wanted to keep working so she could become a stay-at-home mom, but she missed him when he was gone. It was just her, in their little home in Hereford until he comes home late at night. She couldn’t wait until their son was born so he would home a little bit more.

As the day wound down and after getting a few things done in the nursery she decided to watch a movie on the couch until Price came home.

The movie she was watching bore her, but there wasn’t anything else on and she wasn’t about to get up to look through the movies they had. So to pass the time she was trying to catch the popcorn she was eating in her mouth. Luckily it wasn’t long before Price walked into the house.

“Oh thank god you’re home.” She sat up a little more, placing the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table and smiled over at him. “I’ve been so bored.”

He walked over to the couch and sat down with a heavy sigh, his hand coming up to rest on her, hopefully done growing swell of a stomach. A small smile forming on his face as his thumb caressed her stomach.

“I’ve missed you too Liz.” He leaned over to give her a chaste kiss. “How are you feeling?”

“I want this child out of me John, I’m so uncomfortable nowadays.” She moved back so her back was against the couch, adjusting to find a comfortable position. “Other than that it was good. I finally hung up those pictures in the nursery and organized his clothes a little bit more. How was work?”

Price narrowed his eyes at her, and he let out another sigh. “You know I didn’t want you to do that, I was going to put the pictures up. I didn’t want you straining yourself Liz, you’re the one pregnant here.”

“John it wasn’t an issue, you already put the nails in the wall I just put the pictures on the nails.” She chuckled and covered the hand that was still resting on her stomach with her own. “I do appreciate you being so concerned though.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” He sat up a little straighter, angling his body more towards her.

The small smile on her face slightly faded as she gazed into his eyes. “Don’t take this the wrong way, it’s just you’ve become a little too overprotective. You’ve barely let me do anything during this pregnancy, I know my body and I know my limits.”

“Is it a bad thing I want to do all the heavy lifting? You’re carrying our child Liz, the only child we’ll probably have. I don’t want you getting stressed because you’re too far along to do something.”

“That’s not what I mean.” She sighed. “I’m talking about you freaking out when I’m on my feet for more than five minutes. Look I don’t want to argue, this pregnancy is almost over with and I am happy you are this concerned. Sometimes you can get a little overbearing.”

“No argument there.” He moved his arm around her shoulders, letting her snuggle up against him. “You can’t fully blame me for that, I’ve never dealt with this before.”

She looked up at him through hooded eyes and narrowed her brows. “Neither have I. You just got paranoid after reading all those baby books.” She laughed. “Which is pretty cute. It’s more endearing that you want this as bad, if you didn't, I don’t think you would be so paranoid.”

“I didn’t know there were so many complications during a pregnancy.” He removed his arm from her shoulders to get a better look at her. “I never knew I wanted it until it happened. It’s going to be a lot different from training soldiers, I am looking forward to this fatherhood thing.”

“It’s a good thing you weren’t firing blanks then.”

Price rolled his eyes and stood up, heading for the kitchen and all Liz could do was laugh.

xXx

It was the middle of the night and Liz couldn’t sleep, her back hurt and it didn’t help that the little one decided it was the perfect time to kick at her ribs and she was craving a sandwich.

She groaned and set her book aside, reaching out to touch Price’s arm. “John?”

He stirred in his sleep, cracking open an eye. “Yeah?”

She gave him a sheepish grin, fiddling with her hands. “Can you get me a sandwich?”

He opened both of his eyes to glance over at the clock, reading it was three in the morning and sighed. “It’s three in the morning, I have work soon, can’t it wait?”

“No.”

“Can’t you get it?”

“It’s hard enough for me to get in and out of bed as it is and I’m not gonna drive down at three in the morning heavily pregnant.” She pouted her bottom lip at him. “Please?”

“I’m sorry but no, you’re just gonna have to wait.”

Price laid back down, fixing the covers around him. It made Liz sighed through her nose at how inconsiderate he was being. Yes she knew he had work soon, bit he can easily get up, go down stairs to make the sandwich and come back up a lot faster than she could. Being eight months pregnant wasn’t easy.

“But your son wants a sandwich too.”

“No he doesn’t. Go to sleep Liz, you’ll forget about the sandwich in a few minutes.”

“I’ve been craving this sandwich for two hours now, I don’t think it’ll go away anytime soon. And I can’t sleep, your son is kicking my ribs.”

He sat up, cupping her stomach with both hands and leaned down. “Hey stop kicking at your mother’s ribs so she can sleep and stop bugging me about that sandwich she wants, please.”

“I wouldn’t be craving this sandwich if I wasn’t eight months pregnant you know?” She arched a brow, taunting him. “And to think I was so nice as to let you cum in me to begin with.” Price had an unamused look on his face and laid back down, closing his eyes. “Damn I thought that would work.”

“Liz just please try and get some sleep.”

“Not until you get me a sandwich.”

“I’m not going to get you a sandwich at three in the bloody morning.”

“You can only suffer through my whining for so long until you get up and make me a sandwich.”

He threw the covers off of him and got up throwing his arms in the air. “Fine, fine I’ll get you your sandwich.” He grabbed a shirt from his drawer and a pair of pants and put them on, sitting back down on the bed to put his boots on. “I’m sure you want your usual?”

“Yes please.”

Price sighed and tied up his boots before standing back up. “I’ll be back in ten.”

xXx

Liz went back to reading her book while she waited, the little one still kicking up a storm. He must really want that sandwich as well, she couldn’t blame him, it was delicious. Simple, but delicious.

She heard the door close making her ears perk up. She put her book back down on the nightstand, sitting up more eagerly. A moment later Price walked back into their room with the bag in one hand and a coffee in another.

“Here you go.” He handed her the bag and sat down with a groan, taking a sip of his coffee.

Liz opened the bag and took out the sandwich, quickly glancing over at him. She felt kinda bad for having him go out at this time, but some cravings are worse than others. She moved her sandwich to the side and scooted over to him, placing a hand on his cheek and forced him to look at her.

“Thank you!” She leaned forward until their lips met, a small hum being heard from Price’s throat. A moment later she pulled away, a small smile spreading across both of their faces. “I know I haven’t been the easiest person to deal with these last few months and I appreciate everything you do for me, for us.”

She ran a hand over her swell and smiled down at it, feeling him kick even more.

He placed his coffee on the nightstand, then placed both of his hands on each side of her belly - a small smile forming on his face. “Yeah you can be a pain from time to time. I was an asshole, not wanting to get up to get you something you were craving knowing moving around can be difficult.” He looked up at her, locking eyes. “I would do a lot for you Liz, for both of you! And I am quite happy I wasn’t firing blanks.”

Liz laughed and grabbed her sandwich, placing it in front of her and opened it. “Now about baby number two.” Price nearly choked on his coffee, turning to her with a shocked expression on his face. “What? You think we’re just gonna have one? No, we need a little girl after this and then we’ll be the perfect little family.”

He shook his head but still had a small smile on his face. “How about we talk about it in a few years?”

“If you say so mister I don’t like to pull out.” She took a bite of her sandwich, moaning in satisfaction and arched a brow at him in a taunting manner.

“You should be nicer to the man who made you a mom.”

“And you should be nicer to the woman who made you a dad.”

Price laughed and shook his head. “Cheeky.”

She gave him a cheeky grin that made him chuckle. “Only for you babe, only for you!”

#3sleepycats #liz x price #oc liz walker #john price #call of duty

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sup-hoes-its-me · 6 years ago

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With Time III (Tobirama x Reader)

A/N: hi! So this is the last part. I hope ur ready bc I wasn't when i wrote it! It’s really been wonderful writing for Tobirama even though I may have made him ooc a lot of the time. Have fun with this last chapter guys and thanks so much for reading!

word count: 4775

Part One/Part Two/Part Three

I couldn't walk the same after the incident. My leg needed to be in a brace for the majority of the time, and I had to be extra careful when I moved because my ribs and lungs were still fragile. I hated it. I hated this feeling of being useless to everyone and everything that I worked so hard to protect.

I still worked with the Hokage in his office, giving him advice, listening to his plans and strategies, and signing documents with him from sunup to sundown. It wasn't enough. There were people out there risking their lives while I couldn't so much as go on morning runs anymore.

More than once, I'd cried myself to sleep. I would sit in my apartment and stare down at my leg brace, the bandages wrapped around my waist, and the crutches in the corner, and just sob until my throat stung dry. How could this happen to me?

Part of me wished I could have just died in the line of duty than live on and get sympathetic looks from people I passed in the street. I hated the way my fellow shinobi, those who I considered friends, looked down at me in a way you would a child or the elderly. I despised the shame that filled my heart.

“Y/N, are you even listening to me?” Tobirama sighed as usual, red eyes lifting from his desk to me.

I blinked. “Sorry, Tobi. I was distracted again.” With a frustrated shake of my head, I went back to work on whatever was placed in front of me. A boring c-rank mission report that barely needed to be skimmed. Instead of going in to focus on the mundane task of signing papers and reading poorly scrawled paragraphs, I felt a warm, calloused hand on the side of my neck. “Is something wrong?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing. You’ve been different recently.”

“I haven’t noticed.”

“It’s been months, Y/N, three whole months and you haven’t been the same.”

My words got caught in the back of my throat and suddenly my secrets were coming crashing around me. As much as I wanted to tell him how I felt, how everything was hurting me and I couldn’t enjoy my life like I did, I wasn’t going to mutter a word. My breath was shallow from shame and my cheeks paled out of simple indignity. My fingers fidgeted around in my lap nervously under his accusing gaze.

It’s a bit much to call him accusing. He was more concerned than anything, worried in a way that said he stayed up long nights with this on his mind. The bags under his eyes didn’t help my own assumptions. And if he were to be losing sleep over me, I would no doubt feel worse. I didn’t need the sympathy of the man I’ve come to admire, the man who despite having been a rival as a child I now saw as an equal.

“Listen, I can’t even begin to express the guilt I feel for-”

“Don’t pity me, Tobirama.”

His eyes widened just a bit before quickly narrowing. He stared at me fiercely, and I tensed under the touch of his hand on my bare skin, heat sinking into my collar and jaw. “I have never once pitied you, Y/N. Not even when the worst has happened to you have I pitied you. I know your strength.”

“Then why are you acting like this? Like you’re plagued with guilt, and you send me these side-eyed looks of sympathy when you think I’m not looking?” I questioned.

He took a deep breath, as if he were building up his patience or courage, I couldn’t be too sure which.

“I haven’t felt right since you got hurt. I’m not too sure how to explain it, but I feel weak. I feel like an idiot for sending you away with only a child as backup. I feel so guilty for not being there to protect you from all of this, because I can see that you’re in so much pain now that you’re crippled. I just-”

“Tobirama. Please. It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. And I can never forgive myself for what I let happen to you.”

“Shinobi get hurt. Shinobi die in combat every single day,” I countered. He was the Hokage, and he cared about each and every one of his people, so why did he care so much about me, doing exactly as I was paid to do. I expected pain and suffering in this line of work, we all did. It was our sick reality. We trained children barely able to control their chakra to think sacrifice was good. Self-sacrifice is for the well-being of a nation, we were taught.,

His fingers tensed against my skin at the simple words. I watched as his jaw clenched and he turned to glare into my eyes. I no longer feared the fire in those red daggers. His firm voice broke the tense silence.

“You think I don't know that? Of course I know that my shinobi are going to get hurt and die in combat, and I can't do a thing about it. I've accepted that a long time ago,” he paused, sucking air through his teeth. “But it's somehow different with you. I can't accept that you might die one day. I can't accept the fact that it's not my fault you were attacked. I can't accept that it was you.”

I searched his eyes for answers. Something that told me what he was thinking. Only I felt like I was staring into the eyes of a man I barely knew. He looked pained. He looked desperate. Unlike the Tobirama I loved.

“Tobi…”

“Y/N, you keep me from being objective.”

I was completely lost. Lost in his eyes and his words and his frown that just itched to scream out all his troubles. “I don't know what to say. I don't- I can't,” I trailed off.

Softly, I reached up to take his hand, the one pressed against my skin. Then, I dropped it down into my lap, covering his hardened knuckles with both of my palms. My fingertips danced along his skin like feathers, but it was soothing. This feeling, of his skin against mine, it brought me back down to Earth if only for now.

Quietly, I said, “I'm sorry I've distracted you from your work. It's more important, I know that. I never meant to-”

“That's the problem. I'm beginning to believe you're more important than any of this.”

“Tobirama. Please don't say those kinds of things. You know you don't mean them. I'm your assistant, not your family...not your lover.” Deep breaths.

“I know that. That's why this is such a problem. I don't understand why I'm confusing my priorities, and seeing you here doesn't help,” the man groaned, shutting his eyes and grimacing. His hand squeezing mine.

“I'm sorry if my presence hurts you, Hokage-sama.”

“You know I didn't mean it in that way, Hatake.”

“I know. I just think you need to work out whatever is on your mind. You can't be stuck in the middle like this. It's only holding you back,” I said firmly, catching his gaze. “Just remember, your destiny lies with this village. You will have a great legacy, Tobi, but you have to be careful.”

But Hashirama would have said something else. Anyone who knew the pair well enough could have seen it. Tobirama's destiny was not with the village, it was something much less abstract, less broad and disconnected. Konoha was his eldest brother's child, Hashirama's destiny, and eventually his fate.

As much as I tried to avoid it, the inevitable crushing defeat of it all, Tobirama was the one I'd become completely entranced by. I needed him as much as I needed water and air. He was my destiny.

And I could only pray he could find it in himself to forget about me, this strange relationship we had between friends and lovers. It was dangerous, and I hoped he would make the right choice.

__________________

Tobirama chose his destiny, the one I wished against.

He couldn't keep himself from doing otherwise. He could have done what he thought was wise. What was best for the entire village, but he didn't. He must not have been thinking when he marched up the stairs of my apartment building in the middle of the night.

I lay in my bed, a book in my hand and a cup of long gone cold tea on my bedside table. The room was silent save for the loud gushes of wind to slam against the windows every few minutes or so. I stopped crying before I slept about a month before, and instead took to staring at the ceiling or rereading the pages of a novel mindlessly for hours. What else was there to do when sleep wasn't an option?

But a knock on my door was definitely unexpected. It had to have been around midnight or so when I heard that distinct series of four rapping knuckles against wood.

I stood, brushing down my old t-shirt, ignoring the way my hair stuck up in all random directions. When I opened the door, I was met with a fully dressed, fully awake Tobirama. He was much taller than me, especially when I slouched like this. I straightened up a bit and ran a quick hand through my hair to brush it out of my face and behind my ear.

“Tobi, is there something you needed that couldn’t possibly wait until tomorrow?” I asked, and the irritation was clear in my tone. I rested on hand on the doorknob while the other pressed into my hip, waiting impatiently for a response. I cared for the man dearly, but I wasn’t one to enjoy being woken up in the middle of the night for something insignificant.

“I could have waited until the morning if not for this terrible pain in my chest.”

“Are you okay?” My eyes searched his form for any sign of injury, but saw nothing. He didn’t look like he was in any pain, nor did he stand any different than usual. I reached out carefully and took his wrist in my small hand, pulling him into the apartment. I hoped to God that no one was watching the Hokage sneak into some woman’s apartment in the middle of the night. The scandals that would arise…

He sighed, shutting the door softly behind him, the click of the lock bringing me comfort. We were alone. I don’t know why, but that thought brought me peace and anxiety all bundled into one ridiculous package. I wanted to spend time with him, but not like this. It felt awkward, to put it simply.

I motioned for him to take a seat on the edge of my little bed, one of the few pieces of furniture I actually owned. As he scanned over the room and the walls, his brows furrowed into a knot. “After all this time, you still haven’t bought furniture?”

“I never thought it was important. Plus, I don’t get paid enough to afford those things.”

He shook his head, mumbling under his breath, “That’s absurd. If you needed more money, you could have simply asked me for a raise-”

“Tobirama, what are you here for really? You’ve somehow changed the subject,” I said plainly, looking down at his moonlit features in the darkness of my one room apartment. The only light was what came from between the drapes in my window, yet the moon was particularly bright tonight. I could see every detail of his strongly built face, structured jaw and stern irises.

He looked up at me for a second before turning his head down once again. This man was never one to back down from a fight, but today he seemed nervous. He seemed fragile in the way he averted his gaze and sat with his shoulders slumped forward unlike their straightly broad sort of way. Tobirama seemed distressed and worried; if only he would speak so that I could help him.

Still, I continued when he said nothing. “You said that you have a terrible pain in your chest? I asked if you were alright, and I’m not sure I fully believe you.”

“I can’t hide much from you, Y/N. I fear you know me too well.” He glanced up at me with a new goal in his eyes. I couldn’t understand what it meant, that gleam that suddenly appeared, but I knew it was far too important to interrupt. “We need to discuss what’s going on between us.”

And it was as if time has stopped. The fear that remained dormant in my chest was now pumping viciously through my veins. I felt my cheeks pale, running cold in a moment, and my hands start to clam up.

What was I supposed to say? How do you reply when someone wants to have a talk about your nonexistent intimate relations? My mind ran circles around all the excuses and pleas that I could use.

I whispered, broken at the edges, “I wasn’t aware there was anything between us.” Lies, of course. We both knew it.

“You’ve known for as long as I have-longer than that, I’m sure. You’re not an idiot, Y/N.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” I said, just as soft as before.

He leaned back, letting out a low exhale. His eyes rolled to the ceiling, as if he were raking through his mind for the right thing to say. He probably was. The Hokage never knew what to say in these sorts of situations. He was socially awkward, so oblivious at times that it hurt.

“I’m not sure what to say either. Just something. Anything to make this pain stop. It’s keeping me from my work, and it’s making me dependent on you.”

“You’re always thinking about me?”

“Yes, and it’s a problem.”

“I’m not sure what I could do to ease your troubles. I could never speak to you again, and you would be forced to forget me,” I suggested, although I would never do anything of the sort. It would leave me even more pathetic and incapacitated than I am now. I peered down at him, my eyes glimmering with the beginnings of tears, happy or sad, I wasn’t sure.. “But I’m not sure I could live like that for long, Tobirama.”

He shook his head. “I don’t want you to do that. I need you by my side. Haven’t I expressed that before?” So difficult, this stupid man. He wasn’t making any of this easier on me. “I don’t even know why I came here, especially at this time of night. I’m a fool for thinking this was something I could do.”

So fucking defeated. That’s the only way I can describe the sound of his voice as his coarse, frustrated words dripped from his lips out into the open. I took a deep breath, gulping down the terror I felt. I prayed he couldn’t see how terrified I was because I’m sure I looked pathetic. Nothing like a brave kunoichi, a veteran to the cause.

“Want me to tell you I love you?” I muttered in a voice so quiet I could have mistaken it for just another thought. And then, I held my breath.

He didn’t reply right away. He was silent, contemplative really. And I was at his mercy.

“Y/N, I-”

“It’s fine. You don’t need to say anything. Just know that I will always, unconditionally feel that way for you,” I confessed, suddenly not feeling as terrible. I knew he couldn’t just say something like that back. He wasn’t the type of man to just blurt out those intimate details on a whim. “You’ve been my best friend since you gave me those shuriken as a teenager, and I hope nothing brings us apart.”

“I hope for all the same things. I will protect you, if it’s the last thing that I do.”

“Tobirama…”

He tore down my soft voice with his own firm one. He glared up at me, snatching up my hands in his rough ones. He held them tightly to his chest, bringing the two of us only inches apart. “No, Y/N. No. Family is more important than anything, and after losing Hashirama- I don’t think I could handle life without you, too.”

He was so genuine in his words, and I had to bite my lip to keep from crying. Instead, I brought myself into his lap, climbing over top of him so my knees were on either side of his thighs. I kept our hands tightly clasped to my chest, but now I could feel the rise and fall of his breathing against me. I could see the specks of brown and gold in his crimson eyes. I could feel wisps of his white hair along my cheeks and forehead.

I pressed my face into his neck and sighed. This was as domestic as life would ever get, and it was the least I could do but to savour it with every one of my senses. To smell the musk on his skin, feel the warmth of his soul beneath me, listen to his harsh breaths. I absorbed every bit of this moment.

He released my hands so he could wrap his thick arms around my waist, tugging me to his abdomen. His nose found itself buried deep into my hair, soft sniffs taking in the scent of my shampoo. He always said I smelled like coconuts.

“Thank you.”

_____________________________

The day was long and terribly worrisome. Although I had busied myself with many tasks, nothing could stop the random tugs at my heart every time my mind shifted to my best friend who doubled as my strangely acquainted lover. I had waited for hours, on the couch at Tobirama’s house just for him to arrive home. I wanted to surprise him with a nice dinner and a few drinks of sake after completing the latest mission, one that seemed much harder than the last few. It was against the Kumogakure, who Konoha had been on the rocks with recently.

When one of Tobirama’s students, Uchiha Kagami stood in the doorway instead, I knew something terrible had happened. His deep black eyes stared over my shoulder so grimly, unable to meet my eyes. He was ashamed. I could feel it radiating from his form. I could feel many things from people, but this boy screamed pain, sorrow, and shame.

“What’s happened, Kagami-san?” I asked him calmly, even though I felt my stomach doing somersaults. “Where is Tobirama?”

“We were surrounded by Kinkaku’s Squad, and they had the upper hand. Lord Second, he…”

“Well?”

“I’m so sorry, Hatake-san,” he croaked, his voice finally cracking under the pressure. He looked into my eyes, the tears now rising up in the corners, sparkling in the candlelight illuminating the room. I shifted on my crutch, staring up at him with desperation in my eyes. I wanted him to say something else, anything other than the obvious. “He volunteered to act as a decoy so we could escape. I’m so sorry.”

My lips started to quiver. I couldn't come up with anything to really say. I could only muster out a pathetically miserable, “please no.” My knees suddenly felt very weak beneath me, and I was only really being held up by my crutch. My fingers tightly wrapped around the handle and squeezed so tightly it stung, and could have bruised.

But nothing mattered.

The tears that threatened to fall pooled up heavily in my eyes, and I hissed when the salty bits stung. “No. No. Please, God, no. Please don't.”

I pleaded and begged, my hand pressed to my mouth to muffle the cries. It was becoming harder and harder to breath. My head spun, dizzy and disoriented.

It felt like my entire life had been torn down in a single second. Every single thing I had ever built up was suddenly being crushed into the ground into thousands of irreparable pieces.

Tears streamed down my face thickly, hot and steady without signs of stopping. I didn’t know when I could stop crying. Nothing could have prepared me for the death of someone I loved more than life itself. Tobirama was the only person I had left in this damn world, and now I was alone. I was completely and utterly lost in this cruel world, crippled and sick and tired and heartbroken beyond fixing.

Kagami took a step forward and extended his arms, as if I needed to hug him. The only person I wanted to hold in my arms was Tobirama, and he was the one causing all this pain. It’s disturbing how misery works out that way. I shoved the boy back with all the strength my weak, broken soul could muster. He stumbled away from the threshold just enough for me to slam the door in his face.

Maybe that was rude and harsh and terribly uncalled for, but this death; fate didn’t need to torture me this way. To steal the one thing I held precious. Fate stole my legs from me, stole my mobility, stole my livelihood...and now it had forcibly taken the love of my life from my hands. The last thing that brought me any happiness.

I broke down on the floor right in front of the door, sliding down the wood frame and collapsing in a heap of shakes and quivers. I bent down so close that my forehead pressed to the hardwood, tears and slobber pooling on the ground beneath me. I grabbed at my hair and yanked it, trying to feel something other than this shockwave to my heart.

But nothing was going to help. The only thing I could do for now was scream and cry until I fell asleep, and even then, my dreams were not empty. They were plagued with him. Images of him constantly swirled in my mind. I woke up in cold sweats screaming or sobbing.

And I wasn’t the only one hurt by this. My ninkin couldn’t stand to see me this way. They knew me as a strong woman, one who could face death without flinching. Now, I was just a broken shell of the woman I used to be. I lost my father and mother, my brother Hashirama, and my best friend. It was only now that I was completely hollow to the core.

_________________________

“Hiruzen, did you get the final exam paperwork I dropped off earlier?” I asked, peeking my head into the Hokage's office where he sat over a stack of stark white papers. The man, one in which I watched grow into the great leader he was today, smiled and waved me into the room.

He peered over the sheet in his hand and hummed. “Impressive test results, Y/N. I have to say, you might be the most effective teacher at the academy.”

I nodded proudly, leaning on the wall to keep myself steady. I still had trouble keeping myself balanced at times, and I had pains shoot up my thighs randomly at times from the lasting impact the jinjuriki had on my muscles, but I no longer needed the crutch.

After Tobirama died, I left my position as Hokage's advisor. Instead I went to work at the academy where Tobirama dedicated much of his time and effort into creating. I didn't have to fight nor did I have to move around much on my feet. It was only simple stationary jutsu and chakra control, which I was still exceptional at.

Hiruzen was more than happy to have me help around. He was just glad I wasn't torn to shreds to the point where I could do nothing but stay inside.

“Thank you. That means a lot, really.”

“You're looking well? Is the medicine Tsunade made for you helping?”

“Yes! I swear that girl is miracle worker,” I laughed. The blond who grew up to be one of the most outstanding medical nin alive, produced a pain killer for me and it worked better than I'd ever dreamed. “I'm glad she picked up the medical practice. We really needed a good doctor in this village.”

“I heard you once tried to train with her?”

“Yeah. I figured it would be good to acquire another skill I could use without my full mobility. Turns out being a med nin is way harder than I thought,” I told him. “Props to Tsunade and the other nurses, honestly.”

Just as Hiruzen was about to say something else, the door behind me slid open and hurried little footsteps rushed into the room.

“Mom?” The soft, boyish voice rang out. “Kagami told me you were in here.”

I turned around, peering over at my 12 year old son, standing in the doorway shyly. He was a sweet boy, one of the kindest I'd ever met. It was the way I raised him, I suppose, and that made me proud.

He had dark eyes and gray hair that spiked in all directions. It was the natural way of the Hatake clan. He was tall, almost as tall as me even though he was just a child. He stood tall and proud, ready to impress. My son was a talented ninja, gifted even.

I worried he picked up some of my clumsiness or even my mediocre abilities, but it was quite the opposite. He was stunning much like his father. He moved with grace yet so much strength. He was reserved, but when he spoke it was never foolish.

“Sakumo, sweetheart, did you need something?”

“Yeah, actually. I wanted to know if I could go to dinner with Rei and Shikari?” He asked. I only nodded, rolling my eyes. He loved to spend his time with his friends, particularly a Nara and an Uchiha.

“Be back home before eleven, okay?”

He smiled triumphantly, even though I rarely told him no. He was such a good kid, I normally trusted him “Of course, Mom. Thanks.” My sweet boy ran from the room, waving to us on the way out.

I turned back to the Hokage sheepishly. “Sorry about that.”

“It's fine, Y/N. I actually enjoy seeing the child. It's like Lord Second is still with us in him.”

“Yeah. You're telling me.”

“He would have made a good father, I think.”

I laughed, rolling my eyes to the ground. I felt a pang in my chest. Yeah, I would have loved if Tobirama lived long enough to help me raise our son, to teach him all his talents and pass down the title of Hokage even.

“I think he would have been a disastrous father. Loving, yes, but he would have been so confused and lost. He never knew what to do with children.”

“Yes, but a father has a special connection with his own son, his own blood.”

“One day I know they will meet. And Tobi will be so proud of him.”

“I think he'll be proud of you the most, Y/N.” I hated when people told me stuff like that. When they mentioned how Tobirama and I used to be. When they made me fall in love with him all over again. I hated missing him every time they spoke in his memory.

I blinked back tears in my eyes and averted my gaze to the door. “That's more than enough, Hiruzen. Maybe we can talk about this some other time. Just not right now, yeah?”

“Of course. I hope you have a great rest of your day,” he nodded, wishing me the best of luck as I exited his classroom. And as I walked the empty hall, I swallowed my sorrow.

With time, I would see him again. The wait would always be worth it, as long as he remained in my heart. That's because Tobirama would always be unique. He was my first love and my last.

And that's the end! Did you like this kind of writing or hate it? Give me some feedback if you want and have a really nice day!

#naruto #naruto x reader #tobirama #tobirama x reader #one shot #writing #naruto shippuden #mine #with time #part three #thanks so much for reading till the end you guys #i love you

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therandomfics · 6 years ago

Text

Convalescence: 6

Post baby. Post hospital. Post feeling like you were being eaten alive by someone - or something - that would never know you or love you. Post panic attacks from thinking of how hard her life was going to be. You were finally back to the way you were before conception. BC, as you joked yourself in a sad way. It was true, though, because you were finally laughing again, spending time with your friends again, everything was back to the way that it should have been the entire time. Your body was healing with a quickness, and the baby weight you'd gained during gestation had fallen off, and then some. In retrospect, you should have seen it coming, but riding the way of freedom and happiness wasn't something you were willing to give up so easily.

Because of that, you should have seen the crash coming. It was right in front of your eyes.. all you had to do was look.

Three vodka-red bulls and a few hours of dancing had loosened you up. You were thirsty, exhausted, and you were soaked in sweat from the incessant celebratory dancing you'd been doing. It was the first time you'd gotten your old friends back together again and you were all celebrating. They had no idea you'd been pregnant - they merely though you'd slipped into some sick, wallowing bout of depression and had finally come out. What they didn't know wouldn't hurt them. It would, though, hurt you.

With the party winding down, you sat on a bar stool sipping your concoction of energy drink and liquor, surveying the crowd. The night was too young, even though it was 3AM, and you didn't want it to stop.

You hopped down and padded down stairs to the smoker's pit. Music played and the cloud of smoke kept your vision blurry as you made your way to the open end of the pit for fresh air. It was October, but in spite of the cold you'd refused to wear your jacket and relied only on the warmth of the alcohol in your blood to keep you warm.

"Hey." A voice from behind you caught your attention over the sound of EDM and couples laughing as they danced.

You turned around and looked at the man standing in front of you, sizing him up in your drunken state. "Hi."

"Got a cigarette?"

You shook your head. "Don't smoke anymore, sorry."

"That's alright. Let me buy you a drink."

You shrugged and planted yourself at the table on the small deck, placing your empty glass out for display. "I guess, sure. That'd be alright."

He held up one finger and insisted he would be right back as soon as possible. He didn't lie, but unfortunately when he came back he had several friends with him - and several shots of tequila, too.

"Wow, company huh?" you muttered, taking the shot of Patron into your hand. It was so stupid. Looking back you could see it clearly but in that moment, you were drunk and nothing could hurt you.

"We're all in town on business, thought we'd check out the locals.... you didn't disappoint," one of them said with a grin.

You stayed quiet as you took your shot - the one that pushed you over the edge into oblivion.

"What do you say we take this party somewhere else?" Another asked. You shook your head and stood up. "No, I'm okay, but thanks for the shot." One of them grabbed your arm and pulled you directly to his lap, forcing you to sit down. He reached into your shirt without hesitation and another began grabbing at your jeans. No one around seemed to notice, and if they did it must not have seemed out of the ordinary.

Suddenly it occurred to you that none of your friends were there, you were alone with men with bad intentions, and you had to get yourself out of there. You screamed at the top of your lungs, throwing fists and kicks anyway you could until one of the security guards rushed over and pried you away from the group of ne'er do wells. You finally found your friends and instructed them it was time to leave. The entire cab ride home, you cried. Three weeks had passed since Sonny had taken you out and you'd had a meltdown in the middle of the night. It was embarrassing when you thought about how he must have felt - what if he was mortified? What if he thought you were an idiot? If there were any issues, at least you never knew about it. Each time you saw him in class after the failed date, he was just as kind as ever. In fact, you found that he might have actually gotten more considerate since the incident had occurred.

One night after class as he walked you to your car, he wrapped his arm protectively around your shoulders and tugged you close. "Can I ask you something?"

"You just did."

"No, really.."

You stifled a small laugh and nodded. "Of course you can."

"Who hurt you?"

You stopped walking and pulled away to see his face. His expression was searching. "What makes you think someone hurt me?"

"I dunno, I've just been doin' this for a while and I guess you could say I pick up on it. I.. I don't want you to think that it's obvious because it's not. And I care about you, Y/N, so I just wanna make sure if there's anything I can do to make your life easier, it happens," he explained with a sheepish shrug.

You let out a huff. What kind of response was he looking to get in the middle of a parking garage at 9PM? You shook your head a moment later and pulled yourself the rest of the way from his grasp and kept walking to your car. "I just don't think it's a good idea to talk about it."

He continued after you, hot on your heels but with respectful distance. "I want you to know I'm here for you. Whatever you need, I'm here. I feel like that's not enough, me tellin' you. I feel like I need to prove to you that I'm not leavin' you." Your shoulders fell as you jingled your keys in your hand, turning around to face him. "I don't want you to leave, but I don't want you to get too close. The idea scares me."

He pointed at himself, his fingertip pressed to the front of his suit. "I scare you?" You shook your head slowly and sighed, exhaling for as long as you possibly could. "You don't. Things do. You could do those things. Fuck, anyone could."

"I know we haven't known each other that long. I respect that entirely, and I respect you. I just want to be there for you. Call it empathy or whatever you want but I want you to know that I am here.. open up a little. Just a little."

"Don't you get enough of this at work?" you snapped, folding your arms.

"Is that what you're worried about? That I get this at work, so I wouldn't have time or desire to help you?"

You shrugged, feigning indifference. "Maybe."

He reached out and finally grasped onto one of your hands, pulling you a few inches closer to him. "We make time for what we want to make time for, Y/N, and I am here right now telling you as clearly as I can that I want you to take up my time."

“What kind of question is that anyway, Sonny? Huh? Walk me to my car and then ask me who hurt me? What a loaded question.” You pulled away and turned to face your car, unlocking and opening the door hastily. “I can’t believe you did that. Obviously if there were something the matter with me, well there is but, why would you think this is a good time to ask?”

Before Sonny could answer, you got in your car and slammed the door, locking him out. You left him standing by his car, bewildered, as you drove away.

How was it possible to have the same experience over and over again? It felt like Groundhog's Day without Bill Murray.

When you finally got home the next morning, the world came crashing down around you. You were never going to get over the past year, you were never going to be good enough or worthy enough for the love that you wanted, you were never going to be the same again, never happy, never throwing caution to the wind, you were now officially going to be stuck in this warp of fear for the rest of your life.

Several phone conversations later you had no resolution. You were feeling worse for the wear. If people weren't going to stop to help you when you needed them more than ever, why did you stick around? Men didn't respect you, your family was more concerned about where your child was after the adoption. No one was calling to check on you or your well being. You weren’t a mother now, so no one considered you’d have post-partum depression. In fact, you hadn’t even considered it yourself.

It all should have been obvious. Hindsight is 20-20, so they say. No one, though, could have saw what happened next.

#detective sonny carisi #sonny carisi fanfiction #sonny carisi x reader #Sonny Carisi #Detective Sonny Carisi x reader #svu fanficiton

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rockinthebeastmode · 6 years ago

Text

Sleuth

A/N: I finished this sooner than expected--thank god for mega monsters, amirite? I hope you all enjoy this one, especially since I haven’t really written Archie before. I probably didn’t do him justice but eh, whatcha gonna do? I must warn you, this is also very self-indulgent as I’ve forced in a couple OCs (you might recognize them from my very first fic posted and never finished) and I strongly encourage you not to read it bc its literally the worst 😅😂 I came up with this eons ago and its actually based off prompt #6 from this list

You can find the rest of my fics here.

@mmfdfanfic @eveerez @i-dream-of-emus@lilaviolet @laurielau@hey1tskat1e@tinakegg@kneekeyta@likeashootingstarfades @girl-looking-out-window@stinemarine @lurkernolonger@crystalgiddings1993@milllott @milymargot @vivammfd @finn-nelson-for-the-win@ifinallyknow@isthistherightwayround@believethaticanandiwill

Let me know if you want to be added/removed from the tag list and if I missed anyone :)

Sleuth

“Gooooood morning, Stamford, you’re listening to the one and only No Crap FM this fine Sunday and--”

Archie’s hand reached out and slammed down on the clock radio next to the bed, cutting Rae off mid-sentence. He was a huge fan of her and Finn’s station any other day of the week but her cheeriness this early was too much to take. He felt like someone had taken a piss on his soul. Why did people even have alarm clocks? With today’s technology?

His eyes shot open at the thought, glaring curiously at the offending electronic. He didn’t have a bloody radio clock. His head pounded at the onslaught of light from the window and he groaned, throwing an arm over his face. He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm his fluttering gut, and gingerly patted the side table for his glasses.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake…” he muttered, squinting in the daylight at his crookedly fixed glasses, the middle held together by thick tape. He went to wipe the lenses with the duvet and acutely became aware of his nudity. Panic struck before his now clear eyes saw the ripped remains of condom wrappers strewn along the table and floor. He smirked, glancing down at the love bites and light scratches down his chest.

“Uncle Archie’s still got it,” he sighed with a stretch, glancing around the room.

He was in a small bedroom, sparsely furnished with just the bed with two tables, several moving boxes, and a large half-zipped suitcase with an American luggage tag. The table beside him where he’d found his glasses held a ripped box of condoms but his phone was nowhere to be found. The other table had a few guitar picks, a pack of cigarettes, and an ashtray with one still smoking faintly.

He spotted his clothes scattered on the floor between the bed and door. A bass guitar and case sat in the corner, a small amp and more picks beside it. One door was shut but another was cracked, a tile floor barely visible in the darkness. Archie stood and stretched again before gathering his clothes and warily pushing the cracked door fully open and flicking the light switch.

***

“This had better be good, Finley,” Rae warned her fiance, Archie nodding along.

“Too right, last time you dragged us to the Basement, it was nothing but nonsensical noise--”

“Leave off! They’re good, swear,” Finn argued, his arm going around Rae’s waist, “This is the one, babe, trust me.” Rae’s brows raised and she exchanged looks with Archie.

“D’ya hear that, Arch, he’s found the one. After five wedding band flops, he’s done it.”

“I’d thought it was six--” Finn cursed and stormed ahead of them into the club, Rae and Archie giggling behind him.

Archie’s lip curled as they entered, the acrid scent of sweat, booze and smoke coming over them like a wave. Archie followed Rae and Finn to the bar, looking around as they spoke to the bartender.

“These guys any good, Jonny?” Rae asked over the music booming from the speakers by the stage. He nodded with a half-shrug.

“They’ve only been in town a few weeks, the lead singer and drummer are from Leeds or some shit,” he waved a hand dismissively before leaning closer, “It’s the guitarists you gotta see--both American but they’re ace. And the bass player’s voice?” He swooned and Rae laughed before narrowing her eyes at Finn, his brows raising at her.

Archie looked at the stage and saw two men at the mic and drumset, performing sound checks, while a man and woman stood to the side, talking to each other. The girl was slight with choppy blond hair and an infectious grin. The boy was tall and broad around the shoulders, his black hair clipped short and neat. The girl seemed to be comforting the boy, her hand rubbing his bicep with him biting his lip and nodding. The two came towards the bar and his eyes left them, going back to Rae and Finn beside him.

“We’re here to find a band, not to help you pull,” Rae teased, elbowing him lightly. He shot her a glare.

“I’m not pulling tonight,” he countered, leaning on the bar, “The only reason I’m at this hole in the wall is to be the second opinion.” Finn shoved at his shoulder.

“Y’know, maybe I should’ve picked Chop as a best man,” he grumbled, Archie making a face at him.

“Shove it, you two, they’re about to start.”

As if on cue, the two at the bar took a shot each and made their way back to the stage. Archie watched them curiously as they picked up guitars, the boy flipping a pick in his hand before strumming a short bassline. He glanced over the crowd and met Archie’s eyes, his lips quirking. He smiled back, feeling his ears and cheeks start to burn. Their contact broke as the drummer tapped out a beat and started them off.

***

The air in the bathroom was still thick with warmth, a piney musk enveloping Archie as he stepped inside. On the back of the toilet was an embellished incense burner with a stick smoldering halfway down. Between the sink and toilet sat another ashtray, along with several toiletries. He leant down to investigate further, wrinkling his nose when he recognized Finn’s signature CK One. He glanced over the manual shaving supplies, a stiff brush and several ethnic hair products. He placed his clothes on the counter and turned to the shower. He’d shagged and slept here already, he might as well.

It was clear he’d pulled last night but fuck if he could remember how he’d ended up here. He vaguely recalled getting to the bar and making eyes with the bass player of the band but afterwards was fuzzy.

“Fucking vodka,” he groused under his breath before turning the shower knob. He stepped inside when the water warmed and blew out a long sigh as it washed away the remnants of the night.

He knew he should’ve just left and found his way home but he couldn’t help but be curious. Hook-ups were few and far between in this town but from what he could tell, there might’ve been something here. If only he could remember the bloke’s name...

*** The band was good and Jonny had been spot on--the guitarists were a force to be reckoned with. The blonde played lead and her fingers flew over the strings, playing almost perfectly despite her jumping around her side of the stage. On the other end, the bass player stayed in place but played just as well, his eyes closed as he nodded and swayed with the beat.

They played a mix of 90’s rock and alternative, with some newer stuff thrown in. Rae seemed skeptical for the first half of the show but came around towards the end when the lead singer stepped back from the mic and the bass player leaned into his.

How many special people change How many lives are living strange Where were you while we were getting high?

He exchanged a smirk with Finn when Rae was transfixed, a teary smile coming over her face. Finn had definitely redeemed himself with this one.

When the final notes rang out and the band members had bowed and left the stage to a round of raucous cheers and applause, Archie left Rae and Finn to meet them, finding an empty table nearby. He sipped his drink as he looked around the club and heard the DJ music start from the speakers.

Archie almost choked when he saw the bass player coming straight for him. He looked to the side and coughed but turned back with a smile when he reached the side of the table.

“Mind if I sit?” he started in a deep baritone, biting his lip. Archie nodded, waving a hand over the table. He settled into the seat across from him and sipped at a beer. He fiddled with the label for a moment before holding out a hand.

“I’m Lex,” he said, a shy grin appearing. Archie placed his hand in his, praying it wasn’t sweaty enough to notice.

“Archie,” he replied.

“So, Archie,” Lex began, his hands clasping around his beer bottle, “How’d you like the show?”

Archie’s eyes widened and he smiled wide.

“You were great,” he said, internally kicking himself as Lex raised a brow at him, “I mean...it was great. The band was great.”

“Right, thanks,” Lex nodded, laughing softly. He shrugged, his cheeks brightening with a light blush, “Could probably tell how nervous I was.” Archie shook his head, leaning forward a bit.

“No, not at all,” he insisted, “You were great.”

“As you said,” Lex teased. He smiled again and Archie felt like he could melt to the floor when a dimple appeared. He cleared his throat and continued, “You here alone?”

Archie shook his head again, pointing over to Rae and Finn at the bar, the other band members with them.

“I’m with my best mates--they wanted to check out your band, see if you could play their wedding.” Lex’s brows raised.

“Oh, yeah? Did we make the cut?” he asked, sipping his beer. Archie looked over at the bar and saw Rae laughing, Finn beside her with a small smug smile.

“Looks like it,” he answered.

He watched as Lex pursed his lips and nodded before glancing at the group. Archie noticed the blonde waving him over but Lex remained seated, meeting his eyes.

“Shouldn’t you join them?” He shrugged, wrinkling his nose.

“I should,” he paused, looking Archie over, “I’m talking to you.”

Archie felt his cheeks and ears warm and he bit his lip as Lex slowly smirked at him. He coughed lightly before gulping at his drink, the liquor burning down his throat.

“So...the blonde,” he started, Lex tilting his head, “She’s your girlfriend?”

Lex’s eyes widened and he barked a laugh, before sticking out his tongue as if in disgust.

“Naw, she’s my sister,” he said, leaning back in his chair. When confusion appeared on Archie’s face, he went on, “Step-sister. My dad and her mom were married.” Archie nodded before his brow furrowed.

“Were?”

Lex’s eyes dropped for a moment and he leaned on his elbows on the table.

“She died awhile ago.” Archie repressed a wince and smiled sympathetically. He opened his mouth to apologize but Lex cut him off, “It’s cool--she’s in a better place.” His eyes shifted to the side and he raised a shoulder, “Now that I’ve killed the mood...can I buy you another drink?”

***

Archie exited the shower and towelled off before neatly hanging it up and fixing the curtain. He stood in front of the mirror and shook out his hair, running a hand through it.

Lex...short for Alexander, he assumed.

“Like Alexander the Great,” he scoffed lightly before shaking his head at himself. He twisted his mouth at his reflection, taking in the circles under his eyes. He noticed faint bruises around his throat and bit his lip as a flash of the night appeared across his mind.

Yeah, he’d pulled alright.

He shook out his jeans and tugged them on. He raised his t-shirt up and stared curiously at the dirt and grass stains over the back of it and his jeans. His brow furrowed before he pulled on the shirt and exited the room.

As he left the bedroom, he glanced around the small living room and kitchen to the side. He went to the kitchen first, looking over the room. There were several takeout containers and empty beer cans scattered throughout, along with a pot with fresh coffee but an empty creamer container next to it. He went to the fridge and looked over the menus and a scribbled grocery list. Underneath a small rainbow magnet was a note with thick block lettering.

Lex, You missed practice asshole! I know you’re tripping out over our first gig but we need you. Call me ASAP Evan

Archie frowned as he read over it again, his eyes locked on ‘Evan’.

Fuck if he was gonna get caught up with a taken man. He shook his head and turned back to the living room. He would leave soon but he figured he should try searching in here for his phone first.

*** Archie and Lex talked for awhile, long after Rae and Finn had left and the rest of the band had made their exit. When closing time came around, the two went outside, Lex lighting a cigarette. He offered one to Archie but he smiled and shook his head. They stood silently for a moment as Lex took a drag and he exhaled, biting his lip.

“Wanna go for a walk?” Archie’s brows raised in surprise but his smile widened as he nodded.

“Sure.”

They started down the street, walking along the road on the grass. Archie felt the vodka sloshing around his gut but wasn’t feeling sick quite yet. He focused on walking straight, butterflies erupting in his stomach as his and Lex’s arms brushed.

His voice was as intoxicating as the vodka and Archie found himself paying more attention to it than the ground in front of them. He stopped speaking and Archie tuned back into reality just as he stumbled over a rock and started to fall. Lex grabbed his arm as he braced himself to hit the ground but he only pulled him down with him, his back slamming into the grass with Lex against him. Archie inhaled sharply as they caught their breath and Lex adjusted himself over him.

“You good?” he asked, looking over his face in concern. Archie shakily nodded the best he could from the ground and his glasses fell from his face, broken clean in half.

“Bloody brilliant,” he murmured, Lex chuckling at his tone.

“My place isn’t far if you wanna fix those up,” he suggested, raising a brow.

Archie hesitated, knowing it wasn’t exactly safe to go home with someone he’d just met but he did need them fixed, especially if he planned on heading home. He nodded again and Lex smiled and rolled off of him before helping him up. Archie felt his cheeks burn as he took his hand and led them down the street.

***

Archie didn’t have to search long, immediately finding his phone on the coffee table next to an almost empty bottle of vodka and an ashtray with a half smoked spliff. A laptop was down the table, open to a map of Stamford with a short route to a grocery store highlighted. He recognized where he was and sighed in relief. Knowing his luck, he would’ve ended up in Bristol or something.

He frowned at his phone screen, the battery almost dead. There were a couple missed calls each from Finn and Rae, as well as a voicemail from this morning. He held it up to his ear to listen.

“Hey, Arch, I know it’s early but I’m just checking in. We wanted to make sure you got home alright,” Rae paused and Archie heard a tinkling of keys over the line before she continued, her tone turning sly, “Don’t think we didn’t notice you flirting with Lex, Archibald--too bad we left before we could meet with him. Guess you’ll have to introduce us as we plan the wedding playlist. So much for not pulling, aye? Anyways...call me back!”

Archie laughed softly as the message faded out and he shoved his phone in his pocket and went towards the front door. He’d just grabbed the knob when he glanced over a picture hanging on the wall. It showed a teenage Lex, his sister beside him with a man resembling him and a fair brunette woman standing behind them. He squinted at the small note scribbled at the bottom of the frame.

My dear Alexander Happy birthday! Seems like only yesterday when I met your father and you were only up to my hip. Stop growing up so fast, kid! Between you and Evangeline, we can’t keep up. Love you so much! xoxo Mom

Archie smiled as he read over it again and his eyes went back over the name.

Evangeline...Evan?

His eyes widened and he bit his lip, repressing his relief over the discovery. Maybe Lex was single after all...but he wouldn’t get his hopes up.

*** “There...good as new.”

Archie blinked through his fixed glasses, the tape slightly visible. He smiled at Lex and leaned back into the couch.

“Cheers,” he sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. He shivered when Lex’s hand brushed his knee reaching for the table and his eyes shot open as he pulled out a rolling paper and a small bag of weed.

“D’ya mind?” he asked, raising his brows. Archie shook his head, watching as Lex grinned and started rolling a spliff. He looked around the room.

“Nice place,” he said, glancing over the slightly cluttered living room with boxes scattered randomly and a few posters and pictures along the walls.

“Thanks,” Lex chuckled, “Still unpacking from the move.”

“You’re from the States?” Lex nodded, shooting him a smirk.

“As if you couldn’t tell,” he teased, Archie sticking his tongue out at him.

“What brought you all the way here?” Lex half-shrugged, raising the spliff to lick it closed.

“My sister’s dad was British. She grew up with the boys and kept up with them after coming over with her mom...dragged me here to play with them,” he explained, grinning at Archie.

He lit the spliff and handed it to Archie before reaching for a bottle of vodka with only a small amount left. He felt his stomach flip at the sight but was shortly distracted by Lex’s Adam’s apple bobbing as he took a swig. He was thankful he didn’t offer the bottle to him but instead placed it back on the table.

The air seemed charged around them and Archie felt a warmth to the room as he and Lex smoked. They’d only reached about halfway down the joint when Lex put it down and faced him on the couch.

“Are you sure you’re alright? We hit the ground pretty hard,” he said, his lips flattening. Archie nodded and froze when Lex reached up to his face, running a finger along a scratch formed from his glasses breaking. Their eyes met and Archie felt himself leaning into him. He let the vodka guide him forward and kissed him.

Lex responded quickly, his hand moving from his cheek to the back of his neck and deepening the kiss. Archie grasped his shirt and tugged him closer against the couch. He felt his tongue against his lips and his mouth parted, his arms circling Lex’s shoulders. His hand grabbed the couch behind him and he pressed Archie against the couch tighter, bringing them chest to chest. When Lex’s mouth slid to his neck, his eyes rolled and he groaned softly. The words were out before he could think about it.

“Where’s your room?”

***

Archie opened the door and took one last glance over the room before stepping into the hall. He started towards the lift and stopped short when a small dog cut him off, yipping and barking excitedly. He held his hands up as it jumped at him, an older lady exiting her flat and ushering it back inside. Just as she apologized and closed her door, the lift opened and Lex stepped out, a paper bag in his arms. They locked eyes and both smiled hesitantly as they met in the middle of the hall. He held up the bag with a sheepish grin.

“Hey...sorry I ducked out,” he said, “Ran out of creamer.”

“No problem…” Archie replied breathily, biting back a nervous grin, “I should probably get going.”

Lex looked disappointed but nodded with a small smile. He leaned forward, kissing Archie’s cheek and his ears burned as Lex smirked.

“I’ll text you,” he said before scrunching his nose, “If you give me your number, that is.”

Archie chuckled and nodded, tapping his number into Lex’s phone a moment later. They parted ways and Archie entered the lift, watching as Lex smiled at him one more time before entering his flat. He couldn’t help but grin to himself as the doors closed.

#mmfd fanfic #mmfdfanfic #mmfd fanfiction #my mad fat diary fanfiction #my mad fat diary fanfic #my mad fat diary #mymadfatdiary #mmfd #sleuth

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