#it's like half platonic on Float's side | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bratbarzal · 20 days ago

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The Secret of Us (LH43) 2/3

aka the sequel to let it happen

Pairing: Luke Hughes x Fem!Reader

>PART ONE<

it felt like something old, it felt like something holy, like souls bleeding

WC: 28k (I once called this part short I just laughed for 15 minutes alone when the wc loaded)

General Warnings: bed sharing, hand holding, a lot of leaning and longing looks, just a bunch of friendly antics between two friendly friends. platonic pals. aromantic amigos. fluff galore between these two honestly. slight comeback of the banter from lih. jack and ellie win the joint award for worst advice givers on the planet. individual angst - reader lives in struggle city with her senior year of college and the nhl horrors persist for luke, and then an angsty ending (pls forgive me lol) - also mentions of four nations/team usa tw

A/N: sorry this took a little longer, I had a lot of notes and a lot of figuring out what to put where and what to leave for the last part!! I know you all know by now how precious these two are to me, and I really wanted this to show a real progression from how they were in lih!! again, biggest thank you ever for all your feedback on the last part, there's nothing I love more than seeing the reaction to these two and talking about them with everybody, it really ends up being this collaborative yearning for them to work out and inspires so much of what I write so thank you thank you thank you!!!!

Luke feels like he’s floating.

He feels like he’s living in some sort of dream - as sunlight filters in through his windows, and cast you in a surreal glow - he feels like he’s on cloud nine.

It’s all so peaceful, laying beside you - the two of you probably having been awake for maybe fifteen minutes, neither of you talking yet, just basking in the intimacy of being in each other’s arms.

He’d half expected you to shove him off as soon as your eyes opened - as soon as you saw what the two of you had gotten yourselves into, last night. Half expected snarky quips and narrowed eyes.

He hadn’t expected you leaning into his touches, laying on your side and and resting on his chest as he watches five millions thoughts pass slowly through your brain.

“This might be what I missed the most,” he hums, too lost in the way the pads of your fingers tickle softly against his chest to think about what he’s saying, “First thing in the morning, when you’re still fogged up with sleep and your mouth isn’t moving yet.”

You smile softly at the dig, eyes still trailing the ministrations on his skin before you pinch at his flesh. “You’re not supposed to miss anything, now that we’re friends, never mind have a list.” The way you say it is quiet, distracted, even, and Luke likes to think he can read between the lines by now when it comes to your tone and inflection. You’ve missed it, too.

You’d gone straight to doing it as soon as you opened your eyes, cuddling up to him and drawing mindless shapes into his body as he held you close - it’s what you always used to do before you shot up and left him on his own, rushing back before Ellie ever woke up and pretending like you were never gone.

Except this time, neither of you have anywhere to be.

“I don’t think you understand how impossible that’s gonna be.” He chuckles breathily, coming out more like a huff as he presses his head back into the crook of his arm and stares at the ceiling, the tips of his fingers still playing with your hair.

“I understand,” you sigh after a beat, eyes glancing up at him when he angles his neck down to look at you. “But that’s what last night was for, right? Closure?”

It doesn’t entirely feel like closure, not to Luke, but saying that out loud makes him feel like an asshole. You had agreed to last night in order to close out the chapter dedicated to the two of you, and saying that he wants to carry it on feels wrong, especially knowing that’s not what you want.

“Right,” he agrees, noncommittally, wondering if you feel the deep thud of his heart against where you rest beside his ribcage. “Uhh-,”

“Oh my God,” you groan, shuffling up until you’re sat on your ankles, glaring down at him, and swatting the back of your hand where you’d just been tracing lines on his chest, “You want to do it again!”

He leans up on his elbows, trying to level his gaze with yours. “Is that so bad?”

“You said one more time!” You huff, swinging your legs over the side of the bed, “I thought I was being generous stretching last night out to three,”

“Alright, easy on the stretching,” he watches as you look around for your underwear, “I was the one who thought you could have done three, there was no stretching on my behalf, I have the stamina of a horse-,”

“You could barely stay upright,” you throw back over your shoulder as you fasten your bra, Luke’s eyes trailing down the expanse of your back. “I could have easily done four, even.”

“Prove it,”

“No.”

“Come on,” he chuckles, “One more time, I mean it. We’ve never had a morning with no one else around, it would be a shame to waste such a perfect opportunity,”

“Such a shame,” you mock him, your voice comically low as you reach down to retrieve the rest of your underwear.

“I swear I’ll behave after,”

“I’ll believe that when I see it.” You scoff, hopping into your panties as you send a sceptical look toward him. “You have no self control.”

“Me?” He jabs a pointed finger into his chest with widened eyes. “You folded like a lawn chair last night, you have no self control.”

“That was last night,” you shrug, looking around for a shirt that you can throw on - he watches you pout a little at your dress discarded on the floor, eyeing it up like you’re considering the shame of throwing it back on, and he pushes himself up to go to his closet. “I’m a new woman today.”

“I rocked your world that hard, huh?” He smirks as he passes, letting you shove him on his way past and barking out a laugh when he turns to look back at your now-scowling features.

“You’re not being very friendly.”

He pulls the t-shirt he’s about to hand you back just as you reach for it, your footsteps stumbling before you snatch it from his grip and pull it over your head.

“We got back here after midnight, I’m pretty sure,” he recalls, watching you get dressed, “So when I said tomorrow, I meant the day after today.”

“That wasn’t very clear,” you huff, pulling your hair out of the neck of the shirt and to one side, leaving the other bare for his eyes to fall upon, “You duped me.”

“Can you blame me?” He asks, stepping a little closer into your space, eyes still on the slope of your neck before they drift up slowly to meet yours. He likes the way you have to angle your head to gaze up at him, only intensifying the more he closes the distance between the two of you. “I never got to spend the morning with you, we never had time together, not like this.”

“All the more reason that we shouldn’t have any now.”

“I disagree.”

“Of course you do.”

He smiles, fingers reaching out to pinch again at the soft ends of your hair. “I’m always gonna feel like I missed out if we don’t,” he pouts, “And we can’t start a new chapter without finishing the other one, right?”

He thinks your eyes roll by instinct now, whenever he uses analogies like that to try and convince you, but he can see the cogs turning.

He’s right. You know it. You’ll both always be left wondering if you don’t try it now.

“Plus,” he sings a little, “Some things are better to wean off slowly right? Stops the chance of relapsing.”

“Are you comparing me to a drug?”

“If it walks like a drug,” he drifts off, distracted by the strands of hair he’s twirling in a soft pinch.

“You’re not making this easy, Luke,” you sigh, reaching up to stop the distracting ministrations of his fingers in your hair. “The longer we drag this on the harder it’s gonna be to let it go.”

He doesn’t tell you he doesn’t want to let it go, because what good would that do? Your mind is set on being friends, and he would be pushing his luck to try for more, no matter how much he wants it. Instead, he laces his fingers through yours, flexing until your palms are clasped together, and he has a bit of leverage over the way your arm moves - can tug and pull you any way he likes, which is, of course, closer.

“I promise I’ll be good after,” he maintains eye contact as he leans down a little, voice low to draw you in, “You’ll go back to Michigan and I’ll let the whole thing go.”

He holds his other hand up, pinky extended to you, and you keep your eyes on his for a good few seconds before you let them drift to where he’s holding it, a flood of memories washing straight through your pretty irises.

“C’mon,” he purrs, head tilting teasingly as he nods toward the digit, “For old time’s sake?”

Your eyes roll, as expected, but he still catches the way your lips curve before you quickly reach out and link your pinky around his. It takes him back to summer, to that night by the fountain, when something between you changed for the better. Just before you pull away, he tightens his grip, clenching his pinky and pulling until your chest bumps into his, leaning to capture your lips in a clumsy kiss.

It’s tame, especially compared to what happened between the two of you last night, and your hands stay clasped together to avoid the risk of them wandering, but he loves it all the same. Loves the way your eyes flutter closed, and your chest slowly deflates of all tension against his. Loves the way you seem to give in, almost immediately, and accept your fate, losing yourself in the way your mouths move together. He uses that to his advantage, slowly and carefully moving forward, guiding you until the backs of your knees are hitting his mattress.

Even when he lets your hands go, you don’t use them to push him away - instead hanging your arms over his shoulders and playing with the curls at the nape of his neck, deepening the kiss, increasing the pressure of your touch to stay attached as he lowers you back onto the bed.

Everything feels so fluid with you - so foreign to what this sort of thing is usually like, not that he’s even looked at any other girl since the beginning of summer - and the thought of giving it up makes his gut twist in discomfort, a feeling he’s just going to have to push down if he wants to bask in this one last time.

So he pours his heart into it for as long as you let him - large hands tracing down every soft curve of your body, mapping them out, slipping beneath the back of your panties and gripping at the soft flesh of your ass until your hips buck up into his.

“You’re making this so hard,” you mutter into his mouth.

“And you’re letting me,” he mutters back, “Kissing me back, pushing your hips up, scratching at my hair like you know I like it.”

Those movements don’t even cease as he points them out, and he pulls away just to look at you panting beneath him.

“You can admit it you know, just one time. Maybe then I won’t carry on chasing it.”

“Admit what?” You whisper, breathless and hesitant.

“That you want me just as bad.”

You look up at him for an extended moment, then, lips parted with unspoken words and chest rising and slowly falling with bated breath. Your eyes flicker between his, pupils dilating as if they’re trying to say what your mouth won’t.

He doesn’t need you to say anything, though - you tell him everything he needs to know with the way your fingers curl back around the nape of his neck, pulling him down until your lips collide.

Your body arches entirely until it’s pressed to his, the curve of your back slotting perfectly into the stretch of his torso, and defying the hold he has on your waist.

You’re too far past the point of no return to push him away now, as evidenced by the soft little noises you hum in between his lips when his touch wanders somewhere beyond where you’ve given him access so far in the morning.

And despite how much he wants to take it further, he also wants to drag it out, so he kisses you for what feels like forever until his lips trail to the side, pressing into the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, your jaw, the side of your neck, the sensitive column of your throat - and the whole time your fingers stay clutched in his hair, pinching and clenching around the over grown curls as your body writhes beneath him.

If the two of you had been doing this back in the summer, he’d have never let you go - would have kept you between his sheets the whole time, everybody else be damned.

And you’d have let him, he knows it.

He tries not to get in his head too much about the what-ifs, tries to think about the now, about how you’re clutching onto him and giving in to his persistence, but it’s hard - knowing it’s the last time.

Last night, he’d had the aid of intoxication to drown out those thoughts, but now there’s pressure.

And you must sense it - he must stall in his ministrations, or hesitate somewhere along the way - because you pull him from your neck with two hands grasping at his head, and lift until you’re face to face again.

Your lips are swollen when he takes you in, pupils blown, skin flushed, and all he can feel when he looks at you is pride - pride that he got you into that state, pride that you even let him. Pride that he’s the kind of person you don’t want to lose completely, that you still want to be his friend.

Which is why he leans in to kiss you - short but sweet, pulling away with his eyes screwed shut and his brows sinking in frustration. And then he kisses you again, and it’s brief, but he can’t really drag it out any more.

And then one last time, because the second just wasn’t enough to be the last ever kiss he gives you. And this time, it’s slow. It’s ardent and loving and he hopes somehow that you feel the meaning deep in your bones, that he’s finally giving in. It’s a kiss so intense that he hopes it bruises, hopes you feel the pressure of his lips around yours later when you’re flying home, and you press your fingertips to the ache there and think of him. Think of doing more, of being more.

Your eyes flutter open slowly when he pulls away - when he’s hovering over you, trying to put his weight on his good side, and watching as you start to realise why he isn’t kissing you anymore.

“You were right,” he sighs, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest beneath him. “Dragging this on is just gonna make it harder.”

You tug your bottom lip between your teeth, eyes flickering across his features until he finally meets them, your gaze softened and crinkling in the corners a little.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, dipping his head to avoid the lure of your pretty eyes, “I don’t usually start anything I can’t finish."

“That’s okay,” you tell him, a hand lowering to cup at his jaw, stroking gently and pressing your thumb a little into his cheek until he looks back up. “Knew you didn’t have a fourth in you.”

He flicks playfully at your nose as it scrunches when you smile, and rolls off of you, laying on his back beside you as you turn onto your side, resting on an elbow and looking down at him.

“Do you really think we’re gonna be friends?” He asks, head tilting until your eyes meet, and he can gauge the sincerity in your answer. He’s just given up what he’s pretty positive is a sure thing, and if you’re not going to put the effort in to keep up at least a friendship, he’s gonna start to hate himself for it.

You nod, though, not breaking eye contact. “I do,” you assure him, honesty swirling in your irises and assuredness in your tone. “I really did miss you. And not even just this,” you gesture between the two of you, “Although it wasn’t half bad-,”

“It was incredible,” he corrects, lips turning up to match your smile.

“Okay,” you giggle, “I don’t feel like I have to be anybody else when I’m with you, you know?”

Of course he knows. He’s spent his entire life morphing himself into what’s expected. To be more professional around his coaches, more responsible around his brothers, more easygoing around his friends.

But with you, he could be himself - can be himself - and the thought of being able to keep that makes his chest feel a little lighter.

“Friends,” he holds his pinky out again, waiting for you to loop yours through it, although you just eye it with scepticism. “For real this time.”

“Friends,” you agree, hooking your finger around his and squeezing.

No kisses, this time, but that’s probably for the best, he thinks.

The look in your eyes and the smile that tugs at your lips will have to be enough to seal the promise in place.

Luke Hughes refuses to lose you again.

If someone had told you this time last year that you’d be making the trip out to Detroit on a random Thursday night in late October to watch a hockey game, you’d have laughed in their face.

You barely leave Ann Arbor anymore, at least you haven’t this year, already stormed under with assignments and study groups, and riding out to Little Caesars arena with Ellie and a couple of the Michigan hockey guys to watch the Devils had been the last thing on your agenda - but that was before you became friends with Luke. Before you became privy to his recovery schedule, and his return to the league just so happened to fall in time for a game nearby.

You could hardly miss his first game of the season - especially not if it was just to bury your head in your books and hate your life.

That’s not what a friend would do.

And that’s how you find yourself nestled between Ethan and Ellie, in the tenth row behind the away end net, waiting for the team to come out for warm ups.

Ellie’s been talking your head off all day about coming, excited to see Jack on the ice again, excited for you to be with her so she can be excited without being shot down by the hockey geeks at the other side of you, and you’re getting a little overwhelmed by it all.

You don’t know why you’re nervous.

It’s just Luke. Your friend.

Who you haven’t seen since you left his apartment a couple weeks ago, trying not to blush as he hugged you goodbye in front of Ellie and his brother, trying not to let your touch linger and give anything away or drag it out.

The two of you have been texting a little. He’s been busy with his rehab, you’ve been busy with school, but it’s still been working out. He sends you dumb jokes, you’ve now used the eye roll emoji so much that it’s at the top of the list whenever you open them up, and your friendship is slowly but surely blossoming.

Ellie keeps trying to press you on it, though. Teasing jabs of her elbow when his name pops up on your phone, little comments about her plans to visit Jersey, and how you should tag along.

You should have known when her and Jack came back from the hotel the morning after the halloween party that she was onto you. Little shared looks between the two of them in the car to the airport, and side eyes from beside you on the plane.

You wish she’d just come out and say something so you can shut her down, though - set her straight on what is now very strictly platonic between you and Luke.

You’re thankful that when the boys come out on the ice, she’s off getting you guys some drinks - because if she saw you craning your neck just to try and figure out which one is number 43, she’d never let it go.

When you do catch sight of Luke, you’re pretty much glued to him - watching him round up pucks and practice his handling around his teammates, skating in somewhat graceful circles around the ice, forming a mesmerising pattern that you can’t look away from.

You almost forget that only Ellie and Dylan went to the concessions until you see a figure shift out of the corner of your eye and snap back into some semblance of nonchalance.

“So,” Ethan angles his body a little more toward you, like he’s trying to block anyone else from eavesdropping, as if the seats around you aren’t empty for now, “You and Luke, huh?”

You turn your neck slowly to face him, levelling him with an unimpressed glower - narrowed eyes meeting his as he raises a brow in question. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about how I spent half of last year trying to get you out to watch a game at Yost, and you told me that hockey interests you about as much as collecting pennies would.”

Funny how he remembers that, verbatim, you think.

You’d like to think Ethan is a friend - you share a lot of classes, he often saves you a seat when it’s busy and you’re undoubtedly cutting it close, and you let him look at your notes when he dozes off mid-presentation — a transactional relationship, mostly, but he’s not a complete asshole like a lot of the other guys you know. You kind of run in the same circles, go to the same parties, and bump into each other too often to be anything less.

He had been trying to convince you to go watch a game last year, especially after the two of you had worked on a project together in your fall semester, only because of the development in your own friendship, and the fact that you had other kind-of friends on the team. He was adamant you’d have fun - but you knew better.

And the sole reason had really always been Ellie.

She spent your entire freshman year trying to convince you to go with her to watch the team. You’d gone a couple times, and then never again. If you started going to hockey games, she would have tagged along, and you would never hear the end of her prolific yapping about Jack.

And now here you are - sat in the stands, an empty seat beside you with her name on it, and Jack Hughes on the ice below. That worked out so well.

“I’m here for Ellie,” you lie, because that seems reasonable, “The penny thing still stands, I don’t understand a single thing going on down there.”

“Except for the fact that Luke keeps looking up to check on you.”

And sure enough, when you peer back down at where the guys are warming up, Luke is glancing up in your general direction. It’s a little too far away to meet his eye - obstructed too, by his helmet - but you know Ethan is right. He’s been doing it ever since they came out.

“Maybe he’s looking for Dylan,” you shrug, “The guy’s a liability, Hughes is probably worried he’s gone and got himself lost.”

“Is that why you’re blushing?” Ethan jabs playfully at you with his elbow, smirking when you glare back at him. “You worried about Duker too?”

“Shut up.”

“I’m just callin’ it like I see it,” he shrugs, dark eyes gleaming with mischief as he smirks knowingly at you, knuckles pressing into your shoulder as he gives a playful shove. “You’re into him.”

“Am not.”

“He’s into you.”

“We’re friends,” comes out by default, and you’re kind of surprised by just how quick, considering it was only ten days ago that you were in his bed back in Jersey. Less than two weeks since he was pressing teasing kisses into your giggling lips and and you were drawing swirling patterns into his bare chest as you both tried to fight sleep, neither of you wanting to succumb to your own exhaustion and end up waking up in a world where you couldn’t be this close again.

Or maybe that was just you, you don’t know - Luke seems pretty happy to casually text and pretend everything is fine.

“Did he say he was into me?” You turn a little more toward Ethan as you ask, hips shuffling in your seat to fully angle your body toward his, tilting your head in question and holding your breath in anticipation of his response.

Luke said he only ever talked to Brett on his team about the two of you - and while Ethan saw the two of you in the summer, probably witnessed you acting a little more than friendly around each other, you didn’t think either of you had said anything to him.

But him and Luke are close. They always have been. Maybe Luke has shared a little more than you thought - and maybe that’s not such a bad thing, having a little insight as to where his head is at.

Ethan’s smirk only widens though, amusement evident in the crinkles that form beside his eyes, like he takes pleasure in how easily you fold.

“Luke said the same as you, that you’re friends.”

Damn.

“There you go, then,” you force a sardonic smile, turning back to face the ice, “Hope that helps you sleep a little better at night, I, for one, won’t miss your short-lived attempt at being a professional gossip”

He chuckles from beside you, raising a hand to wave at Luke when he looks back up again, the weight of his distanced gaze already sitting heavy on your chest.

You don’t know why it bothers you - thinking he’s so content in your agreement. It’s your agreement, after all. You assumed that you would be content too, it’s why you’d suggested it in the first place, but you can’t help it, can’t stop thinking about him, and can’t stop wondering what if?

You thought you’d shut that door at the end of summer - thought your mind was set and your heart was safely kept under lock and key - but of course he’d find a way to weasel straight beneath all your defences. You don’t know how you didn’t see it coming - too consumed by your want of him, too caught up in the familiarity of his longing gaze - considering it was exactly what he’d done in the first place, weakened your resolve with a flash of his crooked smile and caustic charm.

And that’s exactly how you feel, now - every time you find yourself smiling a little too hard at your phone when he texts you, or checking a little too often when he doesn’t - weak.

When you look down at the ice and see him glancing back over his shoulder in your direction, wondering if he really is seeking you out or if he normally scans the crowd like this - weak.

When your phone buzzes in your pocket after the team retreat to the locker room, and you angle it away from the nosey neighbours sat at either side of you, your lips twisting to mask a smile as you read, If I fall please don’t laugh at me - weak.

When the team end up losing, and you want nothing more than to go find him - comfort him somehow in the limited time you have before they leave to fly back to Jersey, knowing how amped up he had been to return to the ice - but only end up with a few minutes of his time, in the company of Ethan and Dylan beside you, sharing a brief, noncommittal hug and soft smiles just between the two of you - weak.

Thanks for coming, he texts you when you’re on the way back to Ann Arbor in the back of Ethan’s car, Ellie on the other side, head against the window asleep, and the boys up front, yapping to each other about the game.

You chew on the corner of your mouth, face aglow in the dim reflection of your phone, and watch the little three dots appear, waiting for whatever else he wants to say.

You picture him buckled into his seat, legs too long for any plane to comfortably accommodate him - although you’ve never flown anything other than economy, so what would you know - and regretting not getting any other moment alone. You wonder if you’re the first person he’s messaged since settling in for his flight, if any of the guys have a text waiting for them.

It means a lot that you were there.

You lean your elbow onto the door at the side of you, pressing your smile into your fist to conceal it in case you catch Ethan’s curious eye in the rear-view mirror.

I had fun, you text back, sending before you can overthink adding an emoji, fingers itching to tap on the little heart beside the eye-roll in your most used. You’d add it in a message to Ellie - to any of your other friends. Why not to Luke? Thanks for inviting me.

Anytime, he replies almost immediately. I get 2 tickets for every game if you ever want to come again.

You hold on the message and press the heart to react, which will have to be enough, for now, you think.

It’s been 10 days.

Maybe you need to wait until the mere sight of his name doesn’t cause your stomach to do somersaults. Then you can progress to heart shaped emojis.

Time seems to be escaping Luke, passing quicker than he can even comprehend - November ends up being a blur, 14 games in 30 days and he can barely remember his own name by the time it’s done.

One thing he does remember is you, though, a constant presence throughout the month, even if he didn’t physically see you once.

After the game in Detroit, the two of you took up a new routine, texting one another throughout the day, every day, and when it turned out that texting very quickly didn’t fill the void, he would call you.

It started on the first, a shutout loss in Calgary left him in a pretty shitty mood - the team piling back to their hotel in almost silence, splitting into their rooms to sleep off the result, and he found himself needing someone to actually talk to.

You had answered almost immediately, despite the time difference, way past midnight in Ann Arbor when he called, and had managed to talk him down without even knowing you were doing so.

He knows he has a reputation for talking, but he was finding it hard to speak, and you seemed to pick up on that fact, unprompted.

It was like some weird version of ASMR, you whispering to avoid detection in an otherwise unconscious house, him humming back similar-toned responses even though there was no one around for him to wake up, and it took maybe ten minutes for him to feel normal again.

The two of you stayed on that call for two hours, though, until your responses slowed down, and you fell asleep with him on the other end. Listening to you breathing felt creepy, to say the least, and he ended the call with a text saying, thank you, waking to a text the next morning that just said, thank you too.

He realised then that maybe you both needed each other, and the calls became FaceTimes, which became daily.

You congratulated his wins, consoled his losses, kept him occupied on his days off, and he tried to return the favour - celebrating your finished assignments, comforting you through the stress of school, or your family, or life in general, and giving you an escape just like you gave him one.

The two of you even start watching movies together again. Admittedly, through a screen, with a couple second delay on either side - but every Sunday, you both take turns to pick something, setting a random theme the week before and judging each other on how well the film fits.

And it’s weird, having this almost constant contact with you, access he’s never had to anyone other than his family in his entire life, but still missing you.

He feels like he would have been able to get a handle on this whole friend thing, if he could see you in person. If he wasn’t melting at the mere sound of your voice, or staring when the connection lags on your pretty face. Too many times now he’s been caught smiling down at his phone in the locker room, chirped to holy heaven about the lovestruck grin on his face, and having to swallow down the urge to laugh along, because he knows they’re right.

But he had been right, back in Michigan - this is so much better than nothing at all. Having you in his life in whatever capacity you’re willing to be in it will always be enough, and he values your friendship more than most other relationships in his life.

Which is why, when it comes time for him to return to Michigan, he finds himself in a slump thinking you won’t be there.

It’s the holiday season before he’s even aware, and thinking of going back to the lake house, and you going back home at the same time, fills him with disappointment.

He puts on a smile in front of his parents, relishes in the time spent with Quinn, but he finds himself checking his phone more often than he should, wondering if you feel like you’re missing out too.

It comes to a head during the Christmas Eve party his parents have thrown for the last couple of years, inviting all their local friends and family to catch up and celebrate the year together while they have the rare chance.

He slips out the back, isolates himself on the deck chairs by the pool, despite the freezing cold, and twirls his phone between his thumb and fingers, wondering if calling you on a day like today is crossing some unspoken friendship barrier.

His brothers know better than to bother him when he gets like this, and this sort of disposition is a new thing for his parents to navigate, so when he hears the back door open, and the soft patter of footsteps come towards him, he holds his breath in anticipation of some awkward conversation, probably with his dad, where he’s berated for bringing the mood down.

He heaves out a big sigh before straightening up, expecting a, you’re going to freeze out here, or, come inside, Luke, you’re being rude.

“Are you avoiding me, Hughes?”

He shoots up then, spinning on his feet at a dizzying pace, and catching sight of you, bundled up a thick, fluffy jacket with your hands in your pockets as you wait for him to acknowledge you.

“No, I,” he watches you step closer, approaching the deck chairs with your eyes on him the whole time. “I didn’t know you were here, I’m sorry.”

“Since when are you such a hermit? Why aren’t you inside?”

“Just needed a minute of quiet,” he shrugs, “Don’t know if you noticed coming through, they’re all insanely loud.”

“Oh, I noticed,” you chuckle, the subtle shyness in your demeanour sending some warped tingle down his spine, “Do you want me to catch you inside?”

“No,” he says before you even finish speaking, reaching out to grasp at your arm despite the fact you’re not turning yet, “You don’t count.”

You hum, lips twisting into an astute smile before you take the final steps to stand in front of the seat beside his. The smile deepens the closer you get, and he doesn’t miss the way you huff out a small laugh as you look at him.

“What’s so funny?” He asks, head tilting as he takes in the playful gleam in your pretty eyes, your attention flitting around his face with a knowing twist to your lips.

“What’s this about?” You ask, shuffling forward and biting back a smile as you point to the patch of skin between your nose and mouth, still staring at him.

He rolls his eyes, thinking, not you too. He’s had enough chirps from just about everyone else, his own mother included. You’d been the one to tell him you liked him with a moustache back when it was fake, you of all people should have his back. “I’ve become an esteemed gentleman,” he snarks, “Some may say it makes me look rugged and handsome.”

“Was it your mom that said that?”

“Others said sexy and mysterious.”

“Others?” You snort, matching his position as the two of you stand closer, now, looking up at him to meet his height.

“Why,” he asks, narrowing his eyes your way, “You jealous?”

“Of what?” You giggle, pointing teasingly at the feature in question, “Someone mistaking the caterpillar that’s taken residence on your top lip as sexy? I’m absolutely beside myself.”

“Ha ha,” he swats at the finger you point at him, and shuffles back into the deck chair, “Did you come out here just to rag on my facial hair? Thought I suited a moustache.” He figures the next best way to gain some semblance of control over this conversation is to reference that night - most times he’s a little more subtle about it, never missing the flush that rises to your cheeks, but this time you don’t bite.

“I’d hardly call that a moustache,” you roll your eyes as you fall down into the chair next to his, painted Michigan blue next to Devils red. “Was just hard to resist, it’s so easy to rile you up. But I’m here because I brought you a gift.”

“A Christmas present?” He asks, straightening up, “I didn’t get you anything,” he pouts as he watches you reach into your bag and pull it out, a bigger-than-he-expected rectangular box wrapped in red paper, a black bow tied neatly around it.

“I wasn’t expecting anything,” you tell him as you hand it over, the tips of his long fingers grazing against yours as he takes it. “Just saw it and thought of a conversation we had once, it’s no big deal. It’s kinda dumb, actually.”

“Doubt it,” Luke mutters as he shakes the box close to his ear, a brow furrowed as he tries to make sense of what’s inside. He doesn’t think anything you give him could be dumb, but he’s kind of at a loss as to what it could be at all.

“Jeez, don’t break the damn thing,” you chuckle, your hand instinctively going out to grasp at his forearm to bring it down, and his eyes darting to the point where the two of you touch.

You haven’t touched him since he last saw you in person, in October, and while distance has helped a little with the whole strictly friends thing, he feels like the mere heat of your skin against his has washed away all the hard work he’s done over those arduous weeks apart.

It takes him back to the middle of October, to that night in his room in the apartment in Jersey. Brings back visions of your heated gaze and your soft lips, the way you’d so easily fold to him - your biting remarks sizzling into amorous moans and sweet nothings. Sends his thoughts spiralling to how your body felt against his - to lips pressing fervently into the column of his throat, to fingers clutching at curls at the nape of his neck and legs hooked around his waist - and at the thought of legs, his gaze wanders.

You’re quite bundled up, up top - a thicker coat, a higher neckline than he’s used to seeing you in for your sweater, very appropriate for the brisk late December air, but you’re still wearing a skirt, and tights that are probably a touch too sheer to properly keep you warm. And the tiny ladder above your knee piques his interest almost immediately, a voice in his head from he-can’t-even-remember-when regaling him with the analogy of ladders in tights being dubbed, the stairway to heaven.

He swallows, thickly, eyes darting back up to meet yours.

“Can I open it?” He asks, and he swears he sees your pupils dilate after watching his wandering gaze. “The present.”

“No,” you shake your head with a small smile as soon as he frowns.

“I didn’t think you’d be the wait until Christmas morning type.”

“I’m not, I’m just lousy at watching people open presents. It makes me nervous. You can open it when I’m gone.”

Luke doesn’t quite believe that anything he could possibly do could ever make you nervous, but he lets it go with a nod of agreement, placing the box precariously on the arm of the deck chair.

“You got a late flight home or something? What are you even still doing in the state? I thought you were going back yesterday,”

“I’m spending Christmas with Ellie’s family,” you shrug, “My mom got called in to work last minute so it would have just been me at home, anyway. Gonna go back in time for New Years Eve.”

Luke’s chest aches a little at the thought of you being alone, but it makes him feel better to know you have Ellie. Makes him feel less inclined to do something ridiculous, like ask you to stay - to wake up next to him in the morning, eat dinner with his family, and stay by his side all day.

He can’t spend his whole Christmas dwelling on that kind of rejection.

Although he feels even worse now, that he hadn’t thought to get you anything. He should have asked, when you became the type of friends who text each other everyday, if birthdays and holidays should be taken into account.

If you’re the kind of friend who he can watch movies with from over 600 miles away, and who understands his humour enough to send stupid memes that he actually finds funny, and who is the only person he can even communicate with after a bad game - who seems to understand what he means when he says just want to feel nothing for a while, and FaceTimes him just for him to watch you study with your headphones on until he feels calmer - then surely you’re the kind of friend he buys a gift for Christmas.

“When are you leaving?” He asks, trying to do the mental math on if he’ll be able to get you anything by then - something to take into the New Year, maybe.

“In 3 days. The 27th.”

He goes back to Jersey on the 26th. Maybe he can figure something out.

“No doubt Jack’s gonna want to see Ellie in the morning before we go back. Maybe I can save you from third wheeling?”

“My white knight,” you place a hand to your chest with a dreamy smile, and he rolls his eyes with a scoff to mask just how much that still gets to him - the easy way you so quickly jibe back at anything he says.

It’s easier to water it down through a text. Especially when there’s a delay in response, when he’s in practice or you’re in class, and it doesn’t serve to remind him of summer - of bickering from his passenger seat, prodding your feet into him from the other side of the couch, or splashing him with water in the lake.

“Are you guys gonna stay for a drink?”

“Nah, we gotta get back to help sort all the Santa stuff out for her siblings. They do the whole snow boot-print and half-eaten carrots set up, it’s a whole thing, apparently.”

“That’s nice.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, a sudden distance in the way your eyes drop, like he’s losing you to something heavy and hard.

“Are you still down for movie night?” He asks, your Sunday ritual only having occurred a couple nights ago, where the two of you had watched While You Were Sleeping - Luke’s still trying to get his head around how you always somehow pick romantic films while actively rejecting the concept of romance, but if he thinks too hard about it, he’s worried it might fry his brain. You’d said it was your favourite Christmas movie, and he had debated just how festive it really was after watching, but he was in no position to deny you when it was, in fact, your turn to pick. “I’m free on the 30th. I’ll be in California so the time might be a little off, but we can make it work.”

“I’m down. It’s your turn to pick, though, so you better make it good. And you can’t pick New Years Eve, that’s cheating.”

“I wasn’t going to,” he rolls his eyes, his heart fluttering pathetically at the soft way you smile back at him. He’s been asking pretty much everyone he knows what the best New Years themed movie is, and he still hasn’t found anything he’s sold on, yet. But he hates ensemble movies almost as much as you do - Love, Actually not included, because that’s a Christmas classic - so he wouldn’t go near one, not for movie night. “I’m still doing my research.”

“Yeah, well,” you push yourself back up onto your feet, leaning over and ruffling your hand through his hair, “Don’t think too hard or you’ll hurt yourself. You’re kind of the only person I like doing this with, if you give yourself a headache and become unavailable, I’m gonna be really upset.”

He stands too, watches you glance through the window behind the two of you and sigh, and he has to ball his hands into fists by his side to stop himself reaching out to give you a proper goodbye.

He still isn’t sure what kind of boundaries being friends incurs, but some switch deep within him flips - a sudden wave of courage washing over him at the thought of letting an opportunity slip away.

“Are we the kind of friends who hug?” He asks, head tilting as he watches the shy smile slowly break out on your face. Illuminated only by the light through the window, you look so soft that it makes him nervous, this new twinkle in your eye glinting just for him.

It’s so different to how you used to look at him. So much gentler and warmer - so much friendlier, and he knows that shouldn’t make his gut churn, but it does. He still misses the way you used to bite, but he might like this just as much.

“We can be,” you shrug, taking a small step forward, “If that’s what you want.”

“That’s what I want,” he nods, taking a small step, himself, until he’s all up in your space, wrapping his arms around your shorter frame, pulling you straight into his chest and hooking his chin over the top of your head.

Your arms circle around his torso, and he feels the press of your cheek to his front, his own hands rubbing up and down your back as the two of you stay in the embrace for an extended moment.

He’ll be the first to admit he’s been struggling with the whole just friends thing, but this is so much better than the alternative - being able to hold you to him like this will always be better than nothing, he thinks.

The want to kiss you will probably dwindle with time, and maybe that’s better than taking a cold plunge into the murky, icy waters of you wanting nothing to do with him, entirely.

It still doesn’t stop that small part of him wishing for a christmas miracle.

He sways you a little as he checks back in the house, most people distracted by their own conversations, but he meets Ellie’s eye from where she stands with Jack, the two of them watching the two of you through the window with scheming smiles that only serve to confuse him.

That is, until Jack points his finger upwards.

Luke unhooks his chin to glance up, his heart hammering in his chest at the sight of the small decoration above the two of you.

“Thanks again for the present.”

“Like I said, it’s no big deal,” you shrug as the two of you finally part, Luke all of a sudden feeling the chill in the air when you take a step back. “I’m really happy that we’re friends, Luke,” you tell him, voice thick with vulnerability, a subtle shine in your eyes when your features soften up at him, and it all only serves to quicken the rampant beat of his heart. “These last couple months have been really weird for me, and I don’t know what I would have done if I didn’t have you.”

Luke feels his throat seize up, a dryness that spreads into his chest, and cracks like plaster along the cavity, crumbly and weak.

God, you surprise him, sometimes - a conversation that started off with you hazing his attempt at a moustache turning into this, turning into you opening up and letting him in. Baring a fragility to him that you would never have dared to show, all those months ago in the summer.

And, as is the same as most feelings he develops when it comes to you, he had thought it was just him - finding solace in your computerised company, in texts and FaceTimes and voice notes where you ramble on a little too long and always apologise for doing so. When he aches all over, and the noise elsewhere is too loud to bare, seeking comfort in whatever way you’re willing to give it to him has gotten him through a couple pretty rough patches since October, and he’d struggle without you, too.

“Same here,” he tells you, and because it never will feel like enough, adding, “I don’t know how I ever survived without you.”

You smile, slow and sacred, the kind of look in your eye that he’ll picture when he closes his later tonight, and lean in to hold him again.

“Merry Christmas,” you whisper into his chest.

“Merry Christmas,” he echoes back.

And then he watches you leave - watches you slip through the back door into the house, and watches you through the window as you say goodbye, wishing his brothers a happy Christmas as you pass them, and Jack seeing you and Ellie out.

He falls back down into the deck chair once you’ve gone, throwing his head back with an exaggerated groan. His face is tense, his eyes scrunched shut, and when he opens them, looking straight up to the mistletoe tied to the wooden beam above, he feels like the universe is playing one giant, cruel joke on him.

Friends, he tells himself, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. Just friends.

He waits a few minutes before pushing himself up, grabbing at the gift and making his way through the house mostly unnoticed, sneaking off to his bedroom to rip the damn thing open.

The box inside is pretty nondescript, a plain brown with a bit of writing at the top that pretty much just says lamp in warehouse jargon, and his brows furrow as he hooks a finger into the cardboard and opens it up.

He assumes you’ve done some level of assembly already, evidenced by the way it sits on top of the plastic it’s supposed to be wrapped in, and there’s a small note attached. The cord is untied, and wound back up, but he doesn’t have to fiddle with those annoying wires that usually come with it.

Plug this in when you wanna feel like nothing.

He pulls out the device, looking for a clue as to what conversation could have possibly sparked you buying this for him, and pushes himself up from his bed to plug it in as requested.

He’s expecting the warm hues of one of those sunset lamps, a round glow of orange and yellow to wash over his walls. It’s the sort of thing he pictures you having in your room, reminiscent of all those times he’d picked you up from work in the golden hour back in summer, rushing from the club over to his car, skin bathed in radiant warmth.

He isn’t expecting to turn it on to constellations being projected across the entire room. Stars and planets and moons orbiting slowly and serenely across the ceiling. Probably unrealistic in their alignment, but immersive all the same.

His lips turn up into a slow, firm smile, your words from the beginning of summer speaking so clearly into the back of his mind.

“Do you ever think about how big the universe is, Hughes? It’s humongous! If I ever feel anxious or panicky I think about just how big it is and how I’m not even a speck of dust in the grand scheme of things. If I’m so tiny, how big can my problems actually be?”

Maybe that’s the feeling he’s been chasing this whole time, coming back to his apartment from crappy games and going straight to his phone in search of your name. Asking you to sit in silence with him, until he doesn’t feel the crushing weight of expectation anymore, until he starts to forget all the reasons he feels like crap in the first place.

Luke: best

Luke: christmas

Luke: present

Luke: ever!!!!!

You: it’s a $20 lamp

You: and you grew up rich

You: so I highly doubt that

Luke smiles at the way you triple text back almost immediately, and sinks back into the pillows at the top of his bed, taking a deep breath and experiencing just how small he is in comparison to the rest of the solar system.

Luke: I feel microscopic

You: only because I’m in the festive spirit I won’t say I told you so

You: merry christmas luke ♥️

Luke: merry christmas 🎄❤️

He tries not to overthink a single emoji. It’s the holidays, you’re in the spirit, like you said, and a red heart doesn’t mean anything more than you spreading the love.

Friends, he reiterates to himself as his eyes trace the constellations on his bedroom ceiling, wondering if maybe there’s a universe out there where you could ever be more, again.

Being back home in Chicago for New Years was never really going to be at the top of your list when it came to ways you wanted to kick off 2025. Last year you’d gone back to college a couple days after Christmas - had spent New Years Eve with your sisters back at the house, like one big sleepover; an abundance of rose wine and DIY charcuterie boards with all your favourite snacks.

It had been perfect, all of you gathered out on the street dressed in about 5 layers so you didn’t freeze to death, watching the fireworks set off by one of the fraternities and ringing in the new year with your closest friends.

This time you feel isolated.

You love your mom, and you can’t hold her work against her - but you don’t know why she asked you to come back and spend this time with her when she was just going to accept every call in to take another shift.

You got back on the 27th after a couple days with Ellie’s family, and you had to get a cab back to the house because she was at work when your flight landed. There was a note on the counter in the kitchen, and leftovers in the fridge, and when you woke the next morning, it was the exact same.

An apology written on a post-it and a wad of cash for you to go out and get groceries.

Luke has been a good enough distraction.

He texts throughout the day, enough so that you never feel like you’re waiting on him, and FaceTimes whenever he has a good chunk of time to spare. You almost feel guilty for just how much of his energy you’re taking up, but he seems invested enough in what’s going on with you to never make a comment about it.

He’s out on a roadie in California - due to play a game on New Years Eve, and despite how much he had tried to convince you he wants to be on FaceTime with you when the clock strikes midnight, you arrange for your movie night to be the night before.

So, on the 30th, you settle into your room - your mom working, again - with enough snacks and drinks that you won’t need to pause the movie, and set up When Harry Met Sally on your laptop, Luke’s face taking up the entirety of your phone where it rests against the screen.

“Is this the one where she fakes an orgasm in the middle of a restaurant or something?” You ask as you get yourself comfy on top of your bed, a nice thick blanket around your shoulders and your snacks nestled safely in your lap.

“I think so,” Luke responds absentmindedly, his face focused, probably setting up the film for himself. “I had to ask around for recommendations for movies set around New Years, Pesch said this one was perfect. Have you seen it before?”

“No,” you smile as you watch him, brows furrowed and eyes narrowing at whatever is going on with the hotel TV, “But if it is the one with the deli orgasms, Brett might be a little bit of a freak.”

“He’s definitely a freak,” Luke chuckles, “Curtis backed him up, though. Apparently it’s a classic.”

“Oh, well if Curtis said then it must be true.”

“Glad you agree,” he smiles, eyes glancing to his phone and softening when they land upon you. “Are you good to go?”

You give an affirmative hum, and he counts the two of you down to try sync up your streams - which never really works, but Luke seems to find some weird sense of joy in putting on a dorky voice and announcing the numbers like he’s sending a ship off to space. It’s cute, and you’re hardly going to stop him.

Luke never really does a bad job when it comes to picking a movie - even when it’s something you don’t like the sound of, or you hate an actor, or you’ve heard bad things, he encourages you to give it a shot and try something new, and it usually pays off.

Only this time, it takes a mere 10 minutes for this movie to send you into some weird spiral.

You’re a little distracted by Billy Crystal, at first, trying to figure out what you’ve seen him in before - and then something he says seems to stop you in your tracks.

“Because no man can be friends with a woman that he finds attractive.” Harry says from the passenger seat of Sally’s car, a bunch of stuff packed into the backseat behind them. “He always wants to have sex with her.”

It swirls around your head until a couple lines later, when Sally asks him about how a woman’s opinion might factor into the dynamic.

“Doesn’t matter because the sex thing is already out there,” he replies, “So the friendship thing is ultimately doomed and that’s the end of the story.”

You daringly glance at your phone, the smaller screen resting against the corner of the bigger one, and are relieved to see that Luke is too intent on watching to notice you - looking at him, wide eyed and panicked, a million thoughts racing through your brain, enough to work up a physical sweat.

You feel clammy, your throat feels dry, your mouth feels itchy, your fingers are throbbing and your chest is pulsing.

And Luke’s throwing popcorn into his mouth.

You keep casting glances his way throughout the movie, only to see him completely unaffected, and you start to wonder if he really doesn’t see the resemblance. The banter, the bickering, how they understand each other on a deeper level than anybody else, the way they watch movies with each other over the phone - it’s uncanny, even, especially when their friends end up together, just like Ellie and Jack, and Harry and Sally are tethered together forever from then on out.

His teammates have played some sick, cruel prank on him and he hasn’t even noticed.

Your thoughts unravel as the film plays on - as Harry sleeps his way through New York to get over his ex, and Sally lets joyless men take her on boring dates to pretend that she’s over hers, all the while the two of them ignoring the growing tension between each other. You watch as Sally finds out the ex who swore he never wanted marriage gets engaged to his new girlfriend, and the meltdown that ensues - how Harry becomes her comfort, and years of pent up feelings unravel between the two of them in calamitous fashion - and you feel like you’re about to have a meltdown, yourself.

The palpitations persist as Harry does with trying to gain back Sally’s attention - relentless, and determined - and as the movie draws to it’s end, it seems like your heart has beat itself so far out of whack that you can’t even feel it anymore. Just a bunch of white noise inside you - a buzzing, insistent nothingness that just won’t go away.

This character that even you were annoyed by in the beginning somehow morphed into the man on the other end of the phone - someone who doesn’t give up, who keeps calling despite getting nothing in return, who puts on dorky voices and makes dumbass comments and turns himself into someone worthy of Sally’s time.

Not that Luke was ever not worthy of yours, but it fits - the way he gives so much of himself to you, now, despite how busy is life is otherwise.

“So, what are your thoughts?” Luke asks once the credits have rolled, and you almost have to shake yourself out of your reverie, your throat dry and your face flushed.

“I uhm,” you start, blinking hard to try and gather your thoughts, “I liked it. It was good. Very New Years-y.”

The way he smiles is slow, and you hate how much your chest burns at just the sight of it.

“What about you?” You dare to ask, holding your breath as you await some sort of reaction.

“I was a little distracted, to be honest,” he admits, and your eyes widen, not entirely expecting him to be so open.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “Took me a while to get over Mike Wazowski constantly talking about sex.”

Oh.

“That’s who it was!” You say instead, face crumpling at the picture it paints in your head. “I couldn’t figure it out!”

“Surprising,” Luke comments, his lips twisting mischievously as he watches you through his phone. “I know firsthand how much you like a guy in green.”

Even with the lag over FaceTime, the way he playfully winks at you makes your chest burn a little, and you hope, for once, that you’ve somehow frozen on his end so that you can hide your wide-eyed reaction.

He isn’t supposed to bring halloween up - neither of you are, despite how often you find yourself thinking about it - and so him just casually throwing out a comment like he’s testing the waters throws you off your game, your usually quick-witted retort fizzling out on the tip of your tongue, a prolonged silence spreading between the two of you.

Is that where the two of you are, now, in your friendship? Dropping joking references to the last night you spent together?

“Must have been a phase.” You finally retort, sending him a tight lipped smile when he tilts his head in question, a gut-wrenching, knowing look in his eyes.

“Must have been.”

He has to go before long, an early morning skate ahead of him, and you figure you should probably get some sleep too, while you can - without a busy house and endless amounts of studying to do - so when he hangs up, you throw yourself back onto your bed and stare at the same spot for what feels like hours.

You have plenty of guy friends.

Granted, you aren’t as close with them as you are with Luke, but that doesn’t really matter. You have the capability of just being friends with them.

Just because you and Luke have slept together you-don’t-even-know how many times, and he kind of made out that he loved you that one time in Michigan, and you spent the better part of 2 months in a catatonic break up spiral after you broke things off with him, doesn’t mean you can’t be friends.

He was the one who stopped whatever the hell the two of you were doing the morning after the halloween party - and you know for sure you would have carried on if he hadn’t.

So that rules out the whole constantly thinking about sleeping with each other thing. If he was constantly thinking about it, he wouldn’t have given up the last opportunity he had to actually do it.

But then where does that leave you?

And why does the thought of him not wanting you all of a sudden seem worse than if he did?

Luke watches When Harry Met Sally a grand total of 8 times throughout January.

The first time after New Years had been to actually focus on the movie, laid up on his own back in his room in Jersey, without the distraction of your pretty features taking up his phone screen, and not having to keep up the poker face he worked so hard to maintain the first time.

He really lets the whole story sink in - lets the horrors flash through his eyes as he absorbs just how much of the two of you are in the story.

Sally has your defiance - he sees your unwavering confidence in the way she reacts to Harry’s chirps and remarks, and sees you in her resilience to his persistent charms.

He wonders if this could have been the two of you years down the line, if you never made up after summer, and he would run into you one day in an airport, or a bookstore, and you’d pass each other by like ships in the night until one day something changed. He’s pretty thankful that isn’t the case - that the two of you have progressed past the longing and avoiding and have become something tangible and real.

He really doesn’t know what he’d do if he didn’t have you.

Most people say he’s one of the lucky ones, having his brother by his side whilst juggling his ever-chaotic career - with parents in the business his whole life, and having Quinn be the blueprint for him to follow - and for as much of his life that he has spent striving to be where he is, he’s managed to surround him with people who understand.

But sometimes he feels like they don’t really understand him.

They don’t understand how he tries to ease the tension with dumb jokes, or how sometimes he can’t help the snappy comebacks and the prolonged eye-rolls that follow what he believes to be stupid questions directed at someone who really isn’t in the mood.

They don’t understand that sometimes he really just needs to shut off - that, whilst he has somewhat of a reputation for being a talker, when shit hits the fan, he doesn’t want to speak at all. He wants to shut himself away, and just sit with his thoughts until he convinces himself that none of it matters.

You get it. You support it - sit with him in the silence, albeit on the other end of a phone call, but you’re there nonetheless. You don’t take his biting remarks to heart, you roll your eyes straight back, and you even get whatever dumb movie reference he makes.

You mean a lot to him, and the thought of screwing it up in any way starts to mess with his head - which is how your weekly Sunday movie ends up on the back burner for the rest of January.

You don’t put up much of a fight, either, which Luke finds weird, but then again, you’re pretty snowed under with school work. The two of you still talk - texting, mostly, but calls when needed, too - and he doesn’t really feel a divide until the third Sunday rolls around.

January feels like the longest month he he has ever lived in his life - and after a home loss to the Sens, the team’s 4th in a row in one week, Luke shuts himself away on the Sunday night, projection lamp casting constellations around his darkened room, and When Harry Met Sally playing for maybe the 6th time on his TV.

“Are you stuck in some weird Groundhog Day thing I don’t know about?” Jack asks after a while, leaning against the door jamb and craning his neck to watch Harry and Sally walking through Washington Square Park. “I swear you watch this movie every day.”

“Keep falling asleep, I’m determined to watch it all the way through.” Luke lies with ease, eyes never leaving the screen as they speak to each other in dorky voices, and Harry finally asks her out.

“Right,” Jack drags, “Well you’re gonna have to try again some other time, we’re going out.”

“I don’t want to go out.”

“Good thing I wasn’t asking, then.” Jack snarks, pushing himself away from the door and narrowing his eyes at Luke. “You’re really not gonna tell me what’s got you all mopey and weird?”

“Can’t a guy watch a movie in peace?” He scoffs, reaching for the remote to pause the film and straighten up on his bed, “I’m not being mopey and weird, I’m just beat. Been a shit week if you didn’t notice.”

“You were weird before this week, though.”

“Jesus, what’s with the third degree?” He pushes himself off the bed completely, gesturing for his brother to flick the light on as he turns off the projector.

“Maybe I’m worried about you.”

“Yeah, right.”

Jack watches as Luke stalks toward his closet in search of a jacket, rifling through a couple until he pulls out something he knows should keep him warm.

It’s the jacket he gave you to wear on Halloween, and Luke wonders for a fleeting second if there’s a chance your perfume might still linger.

Jesus Christ, he is being weird, he thinks.

Jack calls your name out like he’s reading Luke’s mind, a brow raised when he turns to face him. “Did you two fall out or something?”

“No, why would you think that?”

“Just asking,” Jack shrugs casually, although the way he’s eyeing Luke makes him nervous. Did Ellie say something? Did you say something to her? “So the whole friend thing is holding up?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Luke knows he’s putting the D in defensive, but he can’t help it. It’s technically his job, Jack should expect it by now, he thinks.

“I don’t know, I just think once you’ve crossed that line with someone, it’s kind of hard to just pretend you never did. I can’t imagine just being friends with Ellie again.”

“We’re not you and Ellie,” Luke frowns, a bitterness crossing his features at the comparison. He just about bites his tongue from lashing out, saying something stupid like how you and him are way more mature about your feelings.

“No shit, the two of you are much harder work.” Jack scoffs out a humourless laugh, “She’s batshit crazy and you’re way in over your head.”

“She isn’t crazy,” Luke argues, “You don’t even know her.”

“Luke, she literally broke things off with you for saying one dumb comment,” he huffs back, and Luke doesn’t even question how he would possibly even know that. He never spoke to his brothers about the two of you after things fell apart, but Jack no doubt got his intel from Ellie - morphed and twisted it into his own narrative after the fact, because that’s just what Jack does. “It’s not insane to think she’d do the same with your friendship.”

It is insane to think that.

Partly because Luke would never be so stupid as to speak about you like that again, and partly because what the two of you have now can’t simply be broken off. Not again. Not on Luke’s watch.

“We’re solid, you don’t have to worry about it.”

The tensing of his jaw is probably what gives him away, he thinks, and he tries to relax all his muscles as his older brother watches him with a scrutinising glare.

“You’re still into her.”

“Whatever,” Luke sighs, shouldering past Jack into the hallway. He’ll take his brother’s advice for a lot of things - looks up too him even, when it comes to being a player, being a functioning human being somewhat - but the last thing he’s taking Jack’s advice on is dating. Not when it took him like 3 years to ask Ellie out.

“You’re not denying it.”

“Would you believe me if I did?”

“Luke,” Jack grabs at his elbow to stop him storming all the way through the apartment, tugging until Luke turns, avoiding eye contact and shifting on his feet. “You might think you’re doing the sensible thing, but this whole being friends mess while you still have feelings isn’t good for you.”

“This conversation isn’t good for me,”

“You need to move on.”

The words send a spike of anxiety straight to Luke’s gut.

Move on to what? He’s barely been able to look at another girl without thinking of you lately, even in a platonic or professional sense. He’d stopped to get gas last week and had to run inside to get a drink, and the girl behind the counter gave him this disinterested, irritated shake of her head when he’d tried to make small talk while she was ringing him up. He’d laughed to himself going back to his car - had texted you, just been served by your twin at the gas station, and you’d replied straight away with the eye roll emoji yourself.

Moving on doesn’t really seem like an option.

Not until Jack says, “She’s probably dating again by now.”

He says it so off the cuff that Luke starts to feel like he’s reacting in slow motion - a gradual turn of his body to full attention and a delayed, curious tilt of his head.

“Is she?” He asks, dumbly, wondering if that’s another thing Ellie might have filled Jack in on in their catch ups.

“How the hell would I know?” Jack scoffs, although the way his eyes widen momentarily is a dead giveaway that he’s hiding something. “But it’s been like 6 months, it’s pretty much expected.”

Would you tell him if you were dating?

He’s pretty sure you would. You tell him everything else.

Hell, he even knows your cycle by now, as much as he probably doesn’t want to.

“I’m just going off what they say, you know, about getting over somebody.”

“What do they say?” Luke asks, teeth clenched, jaw aching and throat all prickly at just the thought of what Jack is going to come back with.

“That you have to get under somebody else.”

He feels like he’s about to throw up.

Absolutely not.

The thought of you giving the same parts of yourself to someone else that you’ve already given to him makes his skin crawl - the late night FaceTime calls, the soft, pretty smiles when it’s just the two of you, the way you’ve given up all resilience when it comes to laughing at his jokes.

Those things are his. They’re only his.

But this is the kind of warped possessiveness that made him fuck everything up in the first place - when the thought of you with Cole Caufield sent his head spinning so far off his body that he couldn’t control his mouth. He feels the exact same panic as he did back in the lake house, hanging balloons and hoping he could stop anybody from taking you away.

It wasn’t healthy then, and it isn’t healthy now. He has to let you go, if that’s what you really want. He has to let you move on.

And if he’s going to do that, he has to move on, too.

February is supposed to be your favourite month of the year.

You’re a February baby, your birthday falling a couple days after Valentines Day, and the way you end up surrounded by hearts and flowers in the days leading up always puts you in a good mood.

Only this year, you’re getting your ass kicked with assignments and studying for your midterms - and the fact that you’re still waiting to hear back about your graduate programme application.

Most evenings are spent in the library because it’s a lot less distracting than being back in your sorority - constantly playing catch up to all the things you feel like you’re falling behind on - and you barely even notice the passing of time, or what month it is at all, until you’re on your way out of the library one night and there’s a poster by the exit for Michigan Hockey Senior Night - saying, This Saturday, Feb 15th!

This Saturday?

How did you get almost two weeks into a month without even realising it?

You feel like you’re spiralling the whole way home - like time is running away from you. You’d just about remembered to apply for graduation before the deadline last month, and now it’s only 3 months away, and you still don’t know exactly where you’re gonna end up.

And you haven’t even organised anything for your birthday. You’re usually so on top of that sort of stuff, too. It’s probably too last minute now to get everybody together - people will have made plans, you’re pretty sure, and the thought of not celebrating it makes your stomach turn, like your whole year has gone to waste.

It takes you 20 minutes to get back to the house, pretty much walking in a trance, and it’s only when you’re at the end of the street that you realise you just want to call Luke.

He usually talks you out of these moods without even knowing it - calms you down with some dorky joke or a story about how the guys on his team all grouped together to pull of some stupid prank on him.

It’s like he knows when you go catatonic. Knows when everything is getting a little heavy, and he does his best to lighten the load.

But he’s been busy too, lately. Down after a tough run of games, a drop in form, and he’s taking on a lot more responsibility with his team - the last thing he needs is you burdening him with your problems.

You just need to sleep it off, you think, as you sluggishly heave yourself up the stairs toward the front door of your sorority house, then the next time you talk to him you can be the kind of friend that he needs.

A soft exclamation of, “Finally,” pretty much gives you a heart attack as you close the door behind you, your hand shooting to cover your chest as your pulse thuds all the way up to your ears, “I’ve been waiting for you for like an hour!”

Ellie shoots up from where she had been sat toward the bottom of the staircase and comes toward you, an assessing tilt to her head as she looks you up and down.

You’re bundled up pretty thick, sweatpants on top of leggings on top of tights, and about 4 layers on top - and you’re hoping you can get away with using the cold as an excuse for how manic you probably look. The last thing you want right now is an Ellie interrogation.

“I was at the library,” you tell her, “I told you earlier that’s where I’d be.”

“It’s dark, babe, if I knew you’d be there this late I would have come and got you. Everyone’s setting up for a movie in the lounge, Danica is convinced you’ve been kidnapped.”

“Oh, sorry,” you frown, peering past her to try and get a look through the doors into where the rest of the girls are. “I didn’t realise how late it was. Do you think she’d mind if I just went straight up to bed?”

“You’re fine, I figured you’d be out of it so I told her you were feeling sick, she’ll probably avoid you until Wednesday.”

You smile, tired and soft, but thankful, nonetheless. What else are best friends for if not to get your dictator sorority vice president off your back when she’s on a power trip about group dynamics and bonding nights?

“I love you,” you tell Ellie with a relieved sigh as she smiles back.

“I know,” she replies, “You’re gonna love me even more because I left a gift up in your room for when you got home.”

“A gift?” You ask, narrowing your exhausted eyes her way, frowning as you try to think what sort of gift she might have gotten you. “You know my birthday isn’t until Sunday, right?”

“Yes, I know when my best friend’s birthday is,” Ellie rolls her eyes dramatically as the two of you ascend the staircase together, your legs still aching after your walk home - your entire body wanting nothing more than to collapse atop your bed and sleep for 12 hours straight. “You’ve been down, wanted to do something nice for you.”

“Thanks El,” you offer a tired smile, “I’m sure I’ll love it.”

“I’m sure you will,” she winks, “I’m gonna change and then join the others before Danica thinks I’ve been kidnapped, too.”

“Have fun.”

She disappears to her room a little closer to the stairs as you carry on down the hall, shoulders slumped and steps lethargic as you finally push your way into your room, planting your bag to the side of the door and slowly rounding the corner.

You didn’t really have any intentions of seeking out whatever gift Ellie had left for you until the morning with how exhausted you are, but it’s a little hard to miss when your bed comes into view - a long body sprawled out on top of your sheets, head resting in the crook of his own elbow and soft snores falling from his slightly open mouth.

You just about stop yourself from rushing toward him, dropping your bag off to the side and unzipping your jacket, still stuck in a few more layers that you need to shed.

The need to laugh is a little harder to fight, the sight of him asleep in your bed, the picture of Ellie somehow sneaking him up here and having him wait for you to get home, and he couldn’t even stay up - it’s funny. It’s endearing and sweet, and you can’t really blame him. You’d watched his games over the last week, knew how relentless his schedule had been, so the thought of waking him up to talk doesn’t even cross your mind.

Despite how much you had wanted to talk to him before, and after having a mini-meltdown when you left the library - you think that maybe finally being in his actual presence might be enough. Plus, if he was awake, he’d probably see straight through you, and you’re far too exhausted and frustrated to talk it out right now. Ellie hadn’t noticed when you got home, that your eyes were red raw and your cheeks were all puffy. Luke would, so it’s probably for the best that he’s out like a light.

You grab something warm to change into for the night, slip into your bathroom and go through your usual routine - wash your face, brush your teeth, put your hair up and out of your face so it doesn’t get all frizzy and knotted in your sleep - before making your way back to your bed.

You grab a thick blanket from your closet and crawl up on your bed beside him, throwing half over his long body before tucking yourself under the other half, shuffling up next to his sleeping form.

You settle pretty quickly on your half of the bed, figuring he must have remembered from the summer which side to sleep on himself, and bend your body in line with his, laying on your side until your muscles melt into the mattress.

And then you pull the arm he isn’t resting on over yourself, getting comfortable with your back to him, but still needing to be held. All the anxiety you’ve been dealing with over the past few weeks seems to seep away when you feel the press of his chest to your tense shoulders, and even asleep, his fingers spread so that you can lace yours through them - hands clasped together until you can feel the steady beat of his pulse below your knuckles, or maybe it’s yours, you don’t really know at this point. With his body moulded to yours like this, limbs bent into the spaces you leave for them, it’s hard to tell where he ends and you begin.

It’s probably how you fall asleep with miraculous ease - weeks of borderline insomnia catching up to you as you drift off within what feels like seconds, safe in the warm embrace of your only escape.

When Luke wakes in the middle of the night, he’s pretty sure he’s in the midst of some weird deja vu dream.

His arm has gone dead beneath his head, pins and needles shooting from the tips of his fingers all the way to his shoulder as he readjusts himself a little, and he can’t feel the fingers on his other hand.

He still hasn’t opened his eyes, too conscious of the fact that it isn’t morning yet - because he just doesn’t possibly feel rested enough for it to be morning, yet - and too focused on zeroing in on his other senses. The sound of soft breaths from beside him, the smell of marshmallow-y shampoo, and the warmth of a body laying beneath his other arm.

He slowly blinks himself into consciousness when the familiarity of it all sinks in - the clutch of your fingers between his, the way your breaths fall in line with his own, your shoulder blades pressed firmly to his chest - and peers over to assess your sleeping form.

You definitely weren’t there when he fell asleep. He probably wouldn’t have been able to get to sleep if you were - too in his head about having you in his arms again.

He’s been in his head all day, though - coming over from Jersey to spend his bye-week in Michigan, he knew as soon as he landed that he wanted to see you first, and when he got to the house, and Ellie answered the door, he had been a little bummed that you weren’t home.

And then she pulled some mission impossible level sneaking skills to get him upstairs - told him you’d be back soon, and to wait around, and that if he made a single sound, she’d run upstairs and murder him, herself.

And what else was he supposed to do when it was his first time in any space that was solely yours, just sit there twiddling his thumbs?

He’d only ever seen your room in the background of your video calls - walls lined with mismatched frames and prints, pictures of you with your friends, and with your family, one even from the summer, of the whole group back at the lake house, the two of you stood side by side, back when your brewing feelings were a strict secret that nobody else knew about. He remembered when it was taken, his hand lightly pressed on the small of your back to keep you close - remembered the way you leant on him a little while everyone smushed together, and the soft smile you gave him when everyone broke apart.

There wass another picture that catches his eye - you as a kid, sat between both your parents, wearing the kind of smile only a kid could wear, a smile he knows he hasn’t seen on you since. You must have been like 6 or 7, a gap in your front teeth and a sun burnt nose, and he thought for a second that 6 or 7 year old Luke would have had the biggest crush on you if he knew you when you were kids. You probably would have broke his heart, then, too.

Your desk was cluttered, but still somewhat neat, little trinkets littering the shelves above - figurines, a Lego Wall-E missing a couple bricks, a stack of notebooks, a little vase of fake tulips, and a familiar beat up orange Mets baseball cap hanging precariously from the edge.

Your bed was made, and it looked way too inviting once Luke had taken a brief tour, so he sat on what would usually be his side - and had somehow ended up falling asleep while he waited, your mattress plush and your pillows firm just how he always likes them.

He hadn’t exactly put much thought into it at the time, but the last thing he expected was to wake up to the fact that you had just gotten home and crawled straight into bed beside him.

He’s hardly complaining, though - aside from the way he still can’t feel his arm, and your fingers are locked pretty tight around his, even in your sleep. When he tries to pull them free, just to try and ease the ache in his knuckles, your body follows, shuffling to face him and cosying straight up to him, your hands falling between the two of you and clutching limply at his hoody.

He notices as he’s looking down at you that even something as routine as breathing feels easier when he’s with you - he doesn’t feel that crushing weight on his chest that has followed him for the last month, doesn’t feel the sharp pain in his ribs that hits sometimes when he’s too in his head, like a sudden jolt to bring him back to the present.

His torso just moves in tune to yours, deep, heavy breaths that lull him back to sleep so quick it all feels like a dream.

That is, until he wakes up again.

This time he knows it’s morning. He opens his eyes slowly to a brighter room, the sun seeping in through the crack in your curtains, casting your pretty features in a soft, ethereal glow that makes him feel warm all over.

You’re still just as close, nuzzled right into him, your knees nudged between his thighs, and your arm thrown lazily over his figure, the other curled between you both. His arm is over yours, slung beyond the curve of your back, enough that he can play with the ends of your hair in your ponytail as he takes you in.

“I can feel you watching me.” Your voice is thick with sleep, croaky and low, and he still gets the same feeling in the pit of his stomach that he did back in summer when you’d talk to him first thing in the morning - like it was a tone made just for his ears to hear.

“Been a while since I’ve seen you in person,” he mutters back, his voice equally as croaky, “Trying to memorise what you look like without the glow of a screen reflecting on your face.”

“’S’creepy,” you reply, pushing your face into his chest so that he can’t see you anymore - the rumblings of his hushed laughter causing your head to shake a little.

You stay laying against him for a moment, your head rising and falling in time with his slow, heavy breaths, and his fingers mindlessly twirl at a strand of your hair.

“Don’t you have to be up for class?” He asks after a few minutes, no more than a whisper - still feeling the weight of Ellie’s threat from the night before about alerting anyone in the house to his presence.

“No class on Tuesdays,” he just about makes out as you mumble into his chest, tightening your hold around him.

“What do you usually do?”

“Sleep.”

And as good as going back to sleep sounds - the rumbling of his stomach, as always, gets the better of him.

“You wanna go get breakfast?”

He leans back a little so he can look down and catch your eye, your brow raising incredulously as your gaze narrows up at him.

“Of course your first thought of the day would be about food.”

You roll your eyes as you push yourself up and away from his body, the sudden influx of cold running straight through him, and he watches as you stand from your bed and stretch your arms up, the gesture revealing a small slither of skin between where your sweatshirt ends and your pants begin. His eyes trail slowly back up before you can catch him looking, and shuffles up in your bed until he’s sat against the headboard, watching as you disappear into your bathroom.

He retrieves his phone from his pocket as he waits for you - checking the time and for any missed messages, and then putting your address into postmates just to check what is around. “Will it give us away if we order food to eat here?” He asks when you come back, toothbrush hanging out of your mouth as you lean against the entrance to your bathroom, hip pressed into the door jamb.

“That depends, what time is it?”

“Around 8:30,”

“If you can survive another 30 minutes without starving to death, everyone else should be gone by then.” You tell him before disappearing back into your bathroom. He hears a little movement before you shut the water off and come back into your room.

“If I order breakfast will you go get my bag from my car so I can change? I’ve been in these clothes since I left Jersey yesterday.” He doesn’t specifically mention how he’d let himself onto your bed in clothes he wore on a plane, but he sees the way your eyes narrow as you must realise it.

He’s quite surprised you don’t kick him or something.

“You didn’t change when you went home?” You ask, instead.

“I didn’t go home,” he shrugs, “Came straight here from the airport, hence my bag in the car.”

“Don’t hence me,” you kick lightly at his shin when you come closer, and he’s thankful he had just been expecting the attack, because it somehow hurts less when he knows it’s coming eventually. “How long were you waiting in here?”

“I wasn’t snooping if that’s what you’re thinking,” he defends, although the speed in which he does so causes you to raise a brow in disbelief, crossing your arms over your chest and glaring at him. “I think I fell asleep within like 15 minutes. Surprised you didn’t wake me when you got back.”

“Was too tired to deal with your yapping, to be honest.”

There you are.

“I’ve missed you,” he says, feeling his cheeks go tight as he smiles like an idiot, leaning back onto his hands on your bed and looking over at you. He doesn’t even really think before he says it, but doesn’t regret it either.

Not when you smile back, stepping closer until you’re almost standing between his legs - and it’s just as he starts to spread them to accommodate you that you reach out and press your fingers into his forehead, pushing playfully until he falls back into your mattress - too in the moment to care about how loud he laughs in response.

Luke coming back to Michigan for his bye-week had been somewhat of a surprise. When he’d told you about the break - about how his brothers had been chosen to represent the country in some sort of national tournament - you’d half expected he’d somehow end up going to support them or something, tag along with his parents, maybe, and watch from the sidelines.

Him turning up in your room the other night had been a more than welcome shock - him spending pretty much every day taking up whatever of your time was free, even more so, and you’re even more dumbfounded that you’re not tired of him, yet. Or that he’s not tired of you.

You spent all of Tuesday morning in your room - eating breakfast bagels and sipping on smoothies and catching up on all the things you’ve been too busy to talk about for the last few weeks.

He tells you about Quinn and his injury that kept him from playing in the Four Nations, how Jack’s excited to play in the tournament, about how he’s excited to watch him. He tells you about Jersey, and all the cool things he’s been doing with the organisation out there - the sessions he gets to do with all the kids, and all the things he learns when he does them.

He tells you about all the cooking he’s been doing, shows you pictures of poorly plated meals that you try to encourage him on, because he swears they were delicious, and who are you to crush his dreams when he’s trying his best.

He tells you how all the other guys are off vacationing in hotter climates, and you promise him you know a couple people majoring in psychology if he thinks he needs an evaluation for choosing frosty Michigan over the sun.

You tell him little bits too - about school, about some of the things you’ve been doing with the girls from the sorority - but your life feels so stagnant in comparison that letting him talk feels like the safer option, and you like listening to him anyway.

You end up with him all of Tuesday. He comes over Wednesday night, takes you out to the mall and the two of you spend the whole night sat in his car eating sandwich subs and talking about anything and everythin, and watch Jack’s first game of the tournament with him and some of the guys from the hockey house on Thursday - smushed up beside him in a booth at one of the watch bars on campus, sharing a bunch of appetisers and getting him to try all the fruity drinks you ordered.

He never makes you feel like a tag along or an inconvenience - includes you in conversations with the guys, asks for your input on what to do, even just hangs while you study, and doesn’t huff or puff or complain about any lack of attention if it isn’t directed his way.

It’s almost like you’re meant to be by his side - like he’d have it no other way. It’s seamless, no matter where you are or who you’re with, that where one of you goes, the other will probably follow.

It’s why you’re surprised when he takes you to Yost on the Friday, and you’re just immediately granted all the same access that he is. He takes you on a tour before the arena fills up - walks you through his own history there, regales you of stories from when he, himself, was a Wolverine, and how much he misses it. And the two of you sit alone a little higher in the stands, still for some reason smushed together despite the vacant spaces around you, until you start to get thirsty.

“I’m gonna get us some drinks,” you decide, casting a quick glance down to the ice where it looks like the puck drop is about to happen. He’s been paying for you all week, and you want to give him something back - even if that something is a flat coke and an almost-cold hot dog. “Do you want anything to eat, too?” You stand from the bench, losing the warmth emitting from the side of his leg onto yours.

Luke tugs you back down by the end of your sweatshirt, and you stumble back into the safety of his hold, large hands catching you and guiding you back into your seat. “I can order it over.”

“Oh, look at you, Mr Special Treatment,” you gasp, “Too good to go get your own snacks now, huh?”

“It’s convenient,” he rolls his eyes, “Means we don’t have to juggle a load of food back.” We, like he would never let you go on your own, anyway.

You wonder for a brief second why the thought of it all of a sudden doesn’t suffocate you - why you welcome it with open arms.

“Someone else just has to do it for you,” you jibe, and he just shrugs in response - not that you take it to heart, he’s playful about it, and you know first hand that Luke is a good tipper - despite all the times you’d told him not to tip you when he came to the restaurant, all your friends back at the club in the summer had always said as much. “Do you always just miraculously get what you want?”

He tilts his head slowly, eyes flickering down as he thinks about his response. “Not always,” comes out a little quiet, a little pensive, and you try not to shudder at the way he looks back up. He smiles, then, innocent and unassuming, holding out his phone for you to type your order down.

You can’t quite pinpoint when you lost all resistance when it comes to Luke, but it’s probably too far gone to really do anything about it now, you think.

He’s surprisingly interactive during the game, just as he had been in the watch bar the night before - answering your probably incessant questions with an amused tilt to his lips, eyes on the action but words astute, like he’s truly listening and not just entertaining your attention, stealing sips of your drink when he’s finished his too quick.

“What even is icing anyway?” You ask after maybe the 6th call, “Like why do they even call it, why not just let someone come get the puck and carry on?”

“Game would be boring if it was just everybody shooting the puck out of their own half,” he tells you, “Needs to be some kind of stakes.”

“I’m gonna bite my tongue about how boring the game might be anyway.”

He juts his knee into yours, your joints swinging together like a pendulum as you bring it back into place, levelling him with a glare.

“You asked.”

“I actually didn’t,” he chuckles. “How many games have you been to now and you’re only just asking about icing?” He stretches his legs awkwardly to fit into the stands, the touch of his knee removing itself from yours as he leans into his seat. “What have you been doing when my games are on? You can’t have been watching them.”

“Hey, I do watch!” You swat at his bicep, shuffling to give him a little more room, something you seem to do by instinct now, adjusting yourself to better fit him, almost like a puzzle piece, “I watch you, I don’t need to know what’s going on with anybody else on that ice, that’s not my business.”

“Thought you wanted to know more about hockey.”

“Thought you wanted to be the one to teach me.”

“I know you know some things, we’ve talked about it before.”

“When?”

“Back in the club, that time we were spying on Jack. You mentioned a couple Michigan games.”

“Oh,” you pout, a weird flutter in your chest when you realise how long ago that was - almost like another lifetime has passed in the time since - you barely even feel like the same person. “You remember that?”

“You don’t?” He asks, brows furrowing as he gives you a little more of his attention.

“I do, I just didn’t realise you retained information like that,” you snark back, reaching out to ruffle at his hair playfully. “You’ve taken a couple hits to the head, since.”

“I remember everything when it comes to you.” He says, undoing your poor attempt at lightening the growing tension a little within a matter of milliseconds. God, he’s good at that. “Plus, Ethan said you’ve been to a couple games this season, I figured you’d have gotten the hang of it all by now. You come with Ellie, right, she doesn’t teach you all this stuff?”

“Nah, she lost interest this year,” you reply, leaning a little into your own seat, your posture mirroring his as you get a little more comfortable. “Got a boyfriend in the NHL, she doesn’t need to be scouting for prospects anymore.”

“Is that what you’ve been doing? Scouting?”

“God no,” you scoff, sipping at what’s left of your diet coke as you watch the guys on the ice below, absentmindedly extending the cup over to him as you say, “Hockey boys are too whiney and needy,”

“Oh really?” You can hear the grin without even looking at him, seeing him lean in to take a drink in your peripheral.

“Mmhm,” you bite back your own smile. “Dorky, too.”

“You’re not as funny as you think you are.”

“We both know I’m hilarious.”

“You don’t come with anybody else?” He asks, nudging at you to keep you focused.

“Like who?” You frown. You’d been to the Jersey game with Ethan and Dylan, but you can hardly come to their own hockey game with them. Who else would you possibly go with?

“I don’t know, a date?”

You turn to face him, then, pushing your brows together in confusion as your eyes meet his. “You think that I would come to a hockey game on a date?”

You don’t even remember the last time you went on a date, or what any of that would even entail, anymore - but it probably wouldn’t be a hockey game of all places.

You’d probably go to a bar, or something. Or grab food together. Maybe go watch a movie.

Or none of that, at all, because the thought of dating kind of makes your stomach turn, all of a sudden. Where would you even find the time, between school and spending half your life on the phone to the idiot beside you.

“You’re already here on Valentines day,” he smirks, “You’ll probably be here tomorrow for senior night, come back the day after and spend your birthday here, just for kicks, I’ll tell the guys to come in and practice just for you, if you want.”

“I will not be spending my birthday watching hockey, thank you very much,” you huff, “Not coming to senior night, either, my dad’s taking me out to dinner tomorrow, so you’re gonna have to sit in your high tower without me.”

Luke straightens up a little in his seat, losing the playful glint in his eye as he looks back at you. “You’re dad’s gonna be in town?”

“Allegedly,” you shrug, because you feel like it’s one of those things that if you act like you’re indifferent, the universe won’t cruelly rip it away from you. He’d promised when he called around Christmas that he’d come - when you told him that you had stayed behind in Michigan while your mom worked, and a part of you has known since that it’s an attempt to one-up her, prove that he can show when it matters, but you’re not putting any money on it.

“Can I meet him?”

“No.”

“You’ve met my parents.”

“Because I technically lived in your house,” you scoff, remembering the few times you’d spoken to his mom and dad - mostly polite exchanges with his mom, brief but friendly, enough. You and Luke hadn’t really been much at the time, and you had no reason to want to impress them, but the thought of running into either of them now almost terrifies you - the need to leave a more positive impression almost causing your entire body to buzz with anxiety. “You have no reason to meet my dad.”

“I’m literally your best friend.” He says it in such a classically caustic way - bottom lip jutted out and eyes rolling - that it makes you laugh.

“You wish.” You snort, ignoring the familiarity of the way he smiles back at the remark, turning back to the game and trying to focus despite the ringing that’s all of a sudden occurring in your ears.

Luke can’t remember the last time he’s spent an entire week in somebody’s company - someone who isn’t family, that is, or on the very rare occasion, some of his teammates, even though he usually manages to bag a day for a break and some sort of isolation most times he’s on the road.

But since he came back to Michigan, he’s probably seen you more than he’s seen his own reflection.

And it isn’t even like summer, when you’d spend all that time together - watching movies up in your room when no one else was home, driving to and from the club, sneaking around doing god-knows what to try and figure out what the hell was going on with his brother and your best friend - this time, it just feels a lot less mercurial, a lot less like it’s going to slip from his fingers if he does something slightly wrong.

Everything that was light and airy back then feels heavier and sturdier now - much more secure, weighed down by months of built trust and appreciation of one another. And for the first time since everything fell apart, he doesn’t find himself wishing he could go back.

You give so much of your time to him now, so much of yourself, that he doesn’t for a second doubt how much you appreciate him, or want to be around him. He doesn’t sit in your company and constantly crave more.

He sees more too, he thinks - not just in terms of seeing you, but actually seeing the things about yourself you’re trying to hide. Like how you’re stressed about school, and hiding yourself away, and probably not eating as much as you should. He tries to get you out of the house where he can, tries not to be obvious about it, or controlling or pushy.

And by the time the weekend rolls around, there’s glimpses there of something brighter, even if you’re still not fully talking it out - maybe that’s just not how you cope with things. He’s starting to think he understands you a little more these days.

Saturday is the first day he spends on his own, with no plans to even meet you in the evening, because you’re supposed to be spending it with your dad, and he starts to wonder how he’s even gonna be able to go back to Jersey if this is how it feels not being with you for just one day.

He’s bored. All day.

He trains with a few of the guys in the morning, calls Quinn around lunchtime, his parents in the afternoon, shovels all the fresh snow from their drive and just flits around their house until it’s time to watch the game in the evening, making himself some pasta and kicking back on the couch until there’s a loud knock on the door while he’s watching the highlights from the other game in the tournament.

He’s half expecting his mom to have ordered some sort of food over, not trusting that he could make himself something to eat without burning their house down.

He’s not expecting you on the other side, wearing a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes and cuddling at a big back of chips.

“Let me in, already, I can’t feel my hands,” you huff, edging through the gap he leaves for you when he opens the door a little wider, brushing past him in a dizzying blur of vanilla perfume and spearmint gum.

“Why aren’t you wearing gloves, it’s like 4 degrees out?”

“The Uber driver had the heat cranked up all the way, I thought I’d be alright until you left me out there knocking for 20 whole minutes.”

He figures you must feel the heat in the house instantaneously, because you’re shrugging off your giant coat and hanging it beside his in the hall as he watches you, still pretty sure you’re a figment of his imagination until you’re pressing the chips into his chest so that you can take off your boots.

“You knocked once, you were maybe out there 1 minute before I opened the door,” he defends himself, “Plus if I knew you were even coming, I could have picked you up myself, then you wouldn’t have had to knock.”

“You got a vendetta against surprises or something?” You scoff, trailing into the living room like you already know the way, with him following you like you’re pulling him on a leash.

“Just wasn’t expecting to see you today,” he frowns, blinking slowly as he watches you sink down onto where he was sat in the couch, tucking your feet beneath your body and getting yourself comfortable. Something about it makes his heart skip a couple beats. “Thought your dad was taking you for dinner for your birthday.”

“He bailed,” you shrug, reaching out for the bag of chips that he hands straight over, “Thought I’d keep you company, we both know you can’t enjoy hockey anymore without me yapping in your ear about it the whole way through.”

You might actually be right. Who else is going to ask stupid questions like, do the refs take figure skating lessons to be able to jump like that all the time?

“He bailed?” He asks, sitting down beside you, not letting you distract him with any other casual remark. Your dad bailed on you, for your birthday dinner, and you’re here opening chips and pretending like you aren’t at all phased?

“Apparently one of the boys felt sick or something,” you wave it off, “He could have told me before I sat around the restaurant waiting for him like a loser for 30 minutes, but I guess it’s all hands on deck over there, he texted me as soon as he could apparently.”

Fuck.

Your dad lives out in Philly, he knows that - would take him almost 2 hours just to fly out, never mind however long to get to and from the airport. He could have text you way earlier in the day, if he knew he wasn’t going to make it out. Could have done so much to make it up to you, to not have you get ready, get all the way to be seated for your reservation, get your hopes up entirely, just to text that he wasn’t going to make it.

He forgot. He probably never even bought a ticket.

Double fuck.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He asks, assuming your sudden silence is some sort of prompt.

“Not really,” you huff, slumping down into the corner of the couch, the movement sluggish and defeated, “I’m over it, already, it doesn’t matter."

Luke frowns as he watches you, avoiding eye contact and shrugging it off with indifference, and your words take him straight back to the night of Ellie’s birthday.

It doesn’t matter.

You’d said the same thing back then, over and over, like you were trying to convince yourself it was the truth - that none of it ever mattered - and he thinks he sees it, for the first time, as clear as day; that this is what you do when you’re really hurt. You play it all off like it’s nothing, let it eat away at you without anyone ever really seeing the damage.

He’d seen a glimpse of it that night after the halloween party in Jersey, when he’d asked if you could ever be more - this glassy, unsure look in your eyes, like you were fighting everything in you that wanted more, shielding yourself from the potential hurt, and the subtle, hesitant shake of your head. It’s what drove him to take things further - to push at your boundaries until you let him back in, even if it was for one last time - because he knew there was something there to cling onto.

He wonders for a second just how often you deprive yourself of more, with anything. How you won’t talk about NYU, because it isn’t a sure thing. How you don’t put up a fight with your dad, and how he constantly lets you down, directing all the paternal energy that you’re owed to his other kids - or your mom, and how she gives you just as little of her time, but it’s somehow different because it’s under the guise of work.

He wonders if maybe this friendship he’s been cursing the limitations of for as long as you’ve blessed him with it is all you’ll let yourself have, because the uncertainty of how more could hurt you is worse than the feeling of depriving yourself of it - and his chest all of a sudden feels like a vast, empty cavern that his heart just ricochets painfully around, bouncing from surface to surface and trying to steady itself through the pain.

“C’mere,” he mutters, extending his arm out for you to crawl under, and he’s almost surprised by how quick you do - laying your head on his chest and letting him hold you, fingers again playing with the ends of your hair to try and ground himself.

He’s sure you can feel the rampant beat of his heart, can probably hear the blood rushing throughout his entire body as you rest on him, but you stay quiet for a while after, wrapping your arms around his torso and breathing slowly in tandem with him.

You stay there for what feels like forever, and he’s almost positive you’ve fallen asleep, until all hell breaks loose at the puck drop, and he feels you shift when players start dropping gloves.

Your tense up until the fighting’s over, and the game gets underway, and you’re quiet again until you ask, “Do you ever get in fights like that?”

“Nah,” he breathes out, his fingers drawing absentminded shapes into the arm of your sweatshirt. “I’m a pacifist.”

He sees recognition flash through your irises when you push yourself up to look at him, lips twisting into a knowing smile, and he smiles too - a feeling of familiarity settling deep into his bones when he notices you pick up straight away on the reference. He can see, too, that you’re thinking about how far you’ve both come since that first day in the club back in summer, when he’d sat across from you in a booth and you’d said you could never see yourself warming up to him.

And look at you now, eyes softened whenever your gaze is cast in his direction, a pretty flush to your cheeks, and an almost ever-present upturn to your lips whenever he’s around.

Despite all the things you refuse to tell him or talk about, you’re open to him in more ways than you’ll ever know.

He reaches to push a stray strand of hair back behind your ear, noticing how you lean in a little to the touch before he pulls back away, and your hand goes immediately to hold his before you settle back against his chest.

How stupid could your dad possibly be to hurt you like he did - to give up any chance to be around you, to break any promise he ever made to you.

Luke vows, then, that he won’t ever do the same.

He’s gonna be your friend, be in your life, for as long as you’ll possibly let him. When Harry Met Sally can go fuck itself - meaningful relationships with someone of the opposite gender don’t have to be clouded by the murky waters of sexual attraction - what the two of you have goes so far beyond that, now.

And tomorrow, because you deserve nothing less, he’s going to make sure you have the best birthday of your life.

When you wake up on your birthday, your senses are flooded with everything distinctly Luke.

You’re dressed in his clothes - beat up old pyjamas pants that are rolled up at the hips and one of his shirts - laid in his bed, cuddling at his pillow, and surrounded by all of his things - laid on your own in his bedroom despite knowing that he’d fallen asleep beside you last night.

You can hear him clattering around in the kitchen downstairs, so you aren’t that upset that you don’t wake up next to him, and you’re kind of open to the reprieve, all too conscious of your messy bedhead and sleep-swollen face.

And it gives you a chance to look around once you’ve fixed yourself up - the space a lot different to his room back at the lake house. It feels a lot more personal - pictures from his childhood littered around, movie posters on his walls, little trophies lining the shelves and medals hanging beneath them. It’s endearing.

And so damn cute.

Framed images of little Luke with blonde curly hair and jerseys two sizes too big, or matching outfits with his brothers, or dorky costumes with painted faces.

“If it isn’t Mrs Snoopy, herself,” he scoffs when he comes in, juggling two plates of pancakes on a tray with glasses of fresh juice, a flower laid in the middle that he probably just plucked from one of his mom’s decorations downstairs. “You having fun looking through all my stuff?”

You press your lips together to fight laughter, pointing back at the pictures you were just observing when he places the tray down on his bed. “You were adorable,” you tell him.

“Were?” He scoffs.

“Yeah, were,” you snicker, “You have at least 4 hairs growing out of your chin, now, all cuteness has been thrown out the window.”

He rolls his eyes, gesturing for you to sit down on his bed, “You better eat that before I take it away. I’m never making you breakfast in bed, again.”

He watches fondly as you sink back down onto your side of his bed, and he joins you on his, handing you some cutlery before he leans over, pushing a single candle into your pancake stack. They’re a little lopsided, misshaped and deformed, and the candle kind of leans a little dangerously to one side, but none of that deters your chest from seizing at the sight of it all.

“Do you want me to sing?” He asks as he lights it, looking up at you with a playful smile on his face.

“No I do not,” you scoff, tucking your hair behind your back so there’s no risk of it falling into the candle when you lean toward the open flame.

“Happy Birthday,” he says, his voice deep and velvety, and the last thing you see before you close your eyes to blow it out and make a wish is his soft smile as he watches you. “What did you wish for?”

“A box of bleach for your hair,” you lie, smiling back sardonically when he shakes his head with exasperation.

“Maybe next year,” he scoffs, “I already got all your gifts for this birthday, I’m not going shopping again.”

“Gifts?” You ask, frowning a little. When he’d first mentioned your birthday, he’d said he was going all out - that he felt bad he didn’t get you anything for Christmas and wanted to make it up to you. You’d told him you didn’t want anything big, and you didn’t want him spending a lot of money on you, and you’re starting to worry that he didn’t listen.

Luke is the last person on Earth who makes you feel like you’re mooching off of him - you really don’t want to start, now.

“You’ll see later. We’re still on for movie night, right?”

Your first together since summer. You have plans to sneak him into your house later, after your birthday brunch with your sorority sisters, and you’d agreed to let him keep his turn to pick.

You nod, a little hesitant, a little unsure.

“I promise you’ll like them,” he assures you. “I don’t mean to brag but I knocked it out of the park.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” you tell him, taking your first bite of one of the pancakes, the taste reminding you of the ones you used to eat back at the lake house. “Oh my god, these taste just like Quinn’s!” You say around your mouthful, covering it with your hand as you look back up at Luke with wide eyes.

“He talked me through making them,” Luke chuckles, “I had to FaceTime him for supervision.”

“Just now?” You ask, “Isn’t he like 3 hours behind us or something?”

“He’s an early bird,” he shrugs, taking a bite of his own. “And he said it was his gift for your birthday, I’m not allowed to take credit for them.”

“Yours are better,” you tell him, watching the way his body shifts through the compliment, eyes widening, lips parting, shoulders straightening. Adorable. “You can take credit.”

“Maybe I will make you breakfast in bed again.”

He drives you home not long after - bundles you up in some old sweatpants and one of his hoodies, and you don’t tell him that you keep his shirt and pyjama pants, too, stuff them beneath the hoody to conceal them before you zip yourself into your coat - and promises to text when he’s on his way, later.

You think it might be the excitement of seeing him again that carries you through the rest of the day. You’d have probably enjoyed brunch with the girls anyway, but it waters down the minor disappointment of them gifting you the same bracelet everybody in the house gets for their birthday, and the fact it sort of just feels like any other meeting outside of the house rather than a celebration of you.

You really only have yourself to blame for that, though. You’d told them earlier in the week you just wanted to do something chill, that you had a test on Monday and were going to head in early on Sunday night - but that was after Luke had suggested keeping up your weekend tradition and coming over. If they’d arranged anything beforehand, you would have gone ahead with them.

And even though it’s your birthday, you stock your room with all of Luke’s favourite snacks when you get home. You put on fresh sheets, and put back on the hoody he’d given you earlier, and check your phone every few minutes until he texts you that he’s parked down the street.

You text Ellie, who’s gonna distract the rest of the girls downstairs while you sneak him in, and grab him by the hand when you pull him inside the front door, rushing straight up the stairs and pushing him into your room, biting back a smile when you see him chuckling at the whole charade.

He swings the backpack off his arm as he kicks off his shoes beside your own, heading further into your bedroom and throwing him and his backpack down onto your bed.

“Movie first or presents?” He asks, unzipping the top of the bag and pulling out the folded back of chips the two of you didn’t finish last night.

“Presents, please,” you tell him, sitting down cross legged on your side and clasping your hands together as you wait.

“Alright, well, you’ve got to let me talk you through them before you come for me, alright, they’re not exactly traditional presents.”

Now you’re nervous, again.

“Like my first thought was that I was gonna buy you a star,” he says, “‘Cause apparently you can do that, and name them after you, you get a certificate and everything. But then I figured you’d have something to say about the colonisation of space or something, so I thought I’d save myself the grief.”

“You’d be right,” you snort, wondering if he would seriously fall for that kind of thing. You can’t just buy a star. Even if you earn as much as he does. “I also think that whole thing is a scam, but carry on.”

“Then I was trying to think well what’s something that you really need?”

“Lukey, you got me a car?!” You gasp, mouth agape as you try to make it obvious that you’re poking fun at him.

“What? No,” he pouts, brows furrowing as he looks back down into his backpack, disappointed with what’s in there. “Wait, do you want a car?”

“I was messing with you.“

“Obviously.” He scoffs, shaking his head a little as you bite back a smile, “You said nothing big or expensive, I can’t get you a car. Anyway, your Wall-E is broken,” he hooks a thumb toward the little figure you keep on the shelf above your desk - the lego version of the character that you had knocked off the surface one time when cleaning and accidentally vacuumed up a couple of the tiny pieces. He must have noticed when he was in here on his own the other day. When he was supposedly not snooping around your stuff.

Luke reaches into the bag and pulls out a stuffed version of the robot - a cute soft toy that he immediately hands over to you, it’s big eyes all droopy and adorable. You can’t help the grin that breaks out as you look at it, with its chunky yellow body and soft grey treads - cute enough to forget that he may have potentially taken himself on his own private tour of your belongings.

“I know he’s your favourite, but they don’t sell that Lego anymore, so I had to get you the next best thing.”

“He’s perfect.” You beam, looking back at Luke as he watches you with bated breath. “Thank you,”

“That isn’t everything.”

“Oh.” He hands over a white box, and when you turn it over, you realise it’s AirPods. “Luke, I can’t-,”

“I didn’t spend any money on them,” he argues, “They were gifted to me, I’m supposed to wear them walking in to games but I already have a pair.”

“Still-,” AirPods aren’t exactly cheap - you’d know, you’ve been saving up to buy a new pair ever since you dropped one of yours into a puddle walking home from class one day.

“It’s technically a selfish present, too, ‘cause the microphone on your pair now sounds like shit when I call you, so you need them.”

“Fine,” you huff, not entirely bothered - feeling seen in a way no one else seems to manage to do. “Thank y-,”

“Still not finished.” He smiles, guilty but persistent, and pulls out something folded before he hands it over. You unravel the black bundle of fabric, Jersey, written on the front, and turn it over, 43 and Hughes on the back.

“I’m pretty sure these jerseys cost more than the earphones.” You tell him, lips still twisting when you look at the little scribble at the bottom of the 4.

“Perks of it being game used, technically free. I even signed it for you. You can wear it when you come watch me again. Or when you watch me from here.”

“Oh God, yeah, it stinks,” you joke, your face curling when you bring it up to your face.

“Give it back,” he scowls playfully, reaching as you pull it above your shoulder.

“No, I’m kidding.” You pout, “Hey, stop it, it’s mine.” You swat at his hand as he tries to grab it from you, practically wrestling him as he gets a hold of it. `You end up shuffling your legs out from their crossed position to kick him, swiftly leaning over him to cover his mouth when he barks out a laugh. “Are you done now?”

“One more.” He speaks against your fingers, nodding over to his backpack as you glare suspiciously at him, reaching into the bag and pulling out a little envelope.

You pick at the folded edge until it tears, pulling it open until you can look inside and pull one of the many little cards out.

“Metro cards?” Turning it between your fingers, because what the hell do you need metro cards for?

“For when you’re at NYU.” He answers the question before you even get the chance to ask. “Should get you where you need to be for classes and stuff. They all have 30 days on them, so you’re pretty much set for a year.”

“Luke, this must have cost like at least a thousand dollars.”

“I have a bad habit of not checking the price when I put my card in, so I wouldn’t know.” He shrugs, although you can tell by the way he’s looking at you that that isn’t the case. He’d put thought into this, had gone out of his way to get you something that actually meant something to you - beyond getting you around a city you’re not even certain you’ll be in after you graduate.

“That’s not funny,” you breathe out, frowning at how he’s downplaying such a sweet gesture.

“Doesn’t matter anyway, they’re non-refundable, and I’m not gonna use them, so you have to take them.”

You wait for a few seconds, looking back at how many cards are in the envelope, before looking back at him. “Do they work on the PATH?”

“Should get you to Jersey and back if you need ‘em to.”

Your lips twist at the thought of it - commuting across the river to visit Luke as much as you want, no longer having to wait until he’s in town or either of you get a break. Seeing him on a whim, watching movies in person.

“I’d pick you up from the station.” He tells you, like he’s already thought of it, too. “So yeah, no need for a car, actually. You might have gotten a discount being a student and all, but this way you don’t have to worry about it at all. I know you said that when you move out there you’d want to explore, so now you can.”

You can. When.

There’s no if or could or if you want.

Luke is more certain of your potential than you’ve ever been.

“What if I don’t get in?” You ask after a beat, afraid to even utter the thought into existence after having poured all your energy over the last couple months into your application.

Your future is so murky that it’s all you can think about at the moment, and you’re trying not to get too attached to any one plan - but this one has a hold on you that you can’t quite shift.

The thought of living so close to Luke - being just across the river, less than an hour, if you have to get the train, and potentially quicker than 30 minutes if you can get a ride - and getting to see him so often makes your chest feel like it’s splitting at the seams, and you don’t know if it’s anxiety or hope that’s causing the ache.

“You will,” he shrugs, like he hasn’t even considered any other option, “but if you for whatever reason decide it isn’t for you, then I’ll just fly you out against your will every weekend and we’ll go ride the subway for fun when I’m free.”

You smile at the thought, even if you know he’s not serious, imagining him sprawled on one of the benches, gangly legs getting in everyone’s way, trying to figure out if he needs to switch lines by squinting up at one of the maps instead of checking his phone like a normal person. “They have a When Harry Met Sally tour.”

“If you think I’m faking an orgasm in Katz’s Deli for you, you can think again.”

“Damn, there goes my master plan.” He slaps his knee, pouting mockingly as his eyes follow your every move.

You look back down again, taking in all your gifts, the meaning of them all settling in and filling up a vast hole left behind by everyone else in your life.

Luke sees so much more of you than you realised. He sees fixes for the little things, the things that accepting his help on doesn’t make you feel like anything less than a whole, he knows what you like, what means something to you, what would make you happy because it’s your favourite. He knows about your ambitions, and your wants, and the things you only let yourself dream about, too afraid to say them aloud. Luke listens to the things you can’t even bring yourself to say.

“This is crazy.”

“Yeah, well, I’m kind of serious about this whole friend thing.” He tells you, wearing the kind of smile that makes you feel warm all over - and it’s the kind of warmth that makes you realise that you didn’t even know you were cold, before.

“What if you get tired of me?” You ask, chewing at the inside of your cheek as you wait out his response.

“Won’t.” He smiles, an almost child-like certainty to the way his lips curve.

Your own lips start to tremble as you watch him, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes as you start to feel the tell-tale sting of oncoming tears.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asks, fingers reaching tentatively to swipe at the salty droplet that falls before you have the chance to stop it, “What is it?”

“I think this whole thing with my dad really got to me,” you admit, probably for the first time to anyone, that you’re not as okay as you try to make out. It’s pointless keeping up the act when Luke sees straight through you, anyway, you think. “It’s like no matter how much I try to prepare myself that he’s gonna let me down, there’s this stupid part of me that thinks it’s gonna be different every time.”

“That’s not stupid,” he tells you, his voice firm and his gaze convincing. “It’s okay to want more from people, it doesn’t make you an idiot. He’s the stupid one.”

You know he’s right, but it’s so hard to let go of the idea of your dad that you grew up with - the man who would pick you up from school every day, would blast music the whole way home and sing at the top of his lungs, and would dash a smiley face on every plate with sauce. The dad who was home with you while your mom worked crazy shifts, and would tuck you in at night telling you that you were his world. The thought of him doing that for your brothers now, and not even caring about something as important as your birthday - it just hurts. The stretched out, aching kind of hurt that hangs over you like a dark cloud - the constant threat of rain hovering above.

“He ended up just sending money over, said to get myself whatever I wanted, which is exactly what my mom did. It probably sounds really ungrateful but I just got really in my head about how no one really showed up for me, or got me something that was personal.” Your last hope after brunch had been Ellie, who had given you a purse she’d gotten at Christmas that you said was cute - you were grateful for all of it, the money, the bracelet, the purse, but the lack of thought and effort sort of lingered like a sour taste in your mouth. “But here you are.”

The way Luke looks at you is enough that you don’t need him to say anything in response - his irises gleam with affection and a softened, slow smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.

“I think you were right the other night at the game. You might be my best friend.”

“And that makes you want to cry?” He comes back almost immediately, lips upturning into a smirk.

“Well, I’d scream but it might give us away,” you retort, smiling straight back. “The girls are really funny about having visitors in the night.”

“There’s always your pillow,” he nods over to the top of your bed, “Might muffle the noise.”

You laugh, a huff of air from your nostrils that slowly turns into more, until your eyes are crinkling in the corners and your cheeks start to ache.

“I think you might be my best friend, too.”

“Really?”

“Really.” He affirms, serious and straight, like he’d already realised it long before you.

You smile slowly before you push all the gifts gently into a pile by your side, shuffling past them and wrapping your arms straight around Luke’s middle. He reacts fairly quick, his own arms making their way around your shoulders, swaying softly as you stay in his embrace for a good minute or two, just holding onto him as you let all the emotions wash through you.

You bury your face into his shoulder to save yourself from saying one of them out loud - that you love him, because you’re pretty sure you do.

You’re pretty sure that’s the feeling twisting in your gut.

But you’re can’t quite grasp the extent of it.

You know what love is. You love your family, love your friends - love being outdoors in the spring time, love the colour yellow, the taste of strawberries, and swimming in the lake when the sun is out and the water is warm.

But the way you love Luke seems different. It isn’t defined by any season, or time, or place. It’s all consuming, all the time. It’s in the stuffy heat of the passenger seat in his car in the summer, in front of the blazing fire in the backyard of the hockey house in the fall, and here, in winter, with the evidence of his love in a dedicated heap behind you on your bed.

And for the first time since you’ve known him, the thought of it doesn’t entirely terrify you.

The end of Luke’s bye-week arrives quicker than you can really comprehend, and you’re grateful the guys had taken it upon themselves to throw him a little goodbye party at their house, because you don’t have the mental capacity to throw anything together, yourself.

Ethan had been the one to tell you about it - lowkey, he’d said - the guys and a few people who were close with Luke before he left for Jersey, and he said you could bring whatever of your sisters you wanted.

With it being mid-week, most of them are busy, but Ellie is always happy to tag along, and she even says she’ll do your hair and makeup. There’s a backhanded compliment when she does offer, but you’re too in your head to really let it sink in or affect you.

It feels nice to do this again, anyway. You’ve been in too much of a slump to really go to any sort of party lately, but what better occasion than anything dedicated to Luke?

It was probably last year that you and Ellie did this, sipped on way too strong homemade cocktails while some pop music played in the background, and you’re convinced not to let the little comments she keeps uttering get to you.

“If I’d have known it would only take Luke to get you out, I’d have got Jack to ship him out months ago,” she says as she runs a thermal brush through your hair, smoothing out the frizz and curling it at the ends. “Should have known after the halloween party that you’d follow him anywhere.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, frowning despite your conviction to ignore her when she gets like this. The mention of halloween triggers something deep within you though, and you immediately smooth out your features when you meet her eye in the mirror, aiming for nonchalance, although you’re pretty sure the abrupt palpitations you feel at the mere mention of his name are visible from where Ellie stands behind you.

“You slept with him in October,” she says, like this is somehow common knowledge, like the two of you have ever even spoken about that, or anything to do with the developments in yours and Luke’s relationship since the end of summer.

You turn in your seat, mouth agape as you stare wide-eyed back at her, thankful to avoid the hot end of the hair tool. “No I didn’t,” you scoff, figuring denial is your safest bet. Admitting anything to Ellie last time hadn’t worked out too well for you, whether it was the fault of that conversation or not, and you don’t really want to put your heart on the line for her to watch it shatter again. “Why would you even think that?”

“Because Jack said his bed hadn’t been slept in when we got back from the hotel.”

“That’s because Jack’s never heard of making the bed,” you try to argue, but she claps back almost immediately.

“He’s actually weirdly neat. It’s almost annoying.” She shrugs, “I believe him when he says it was untouched, which means you slept in Luke’s bed, and that means you fucked him.”

“Why does it automatically mean I fucked him?”

“Because the two of you can’t stay away from each other,” she rolls her eyes, “Plus, you were avoiding him like the plague, and then all of a sudden you guys were FaceTiming each other every day. And now he’s come back and you spent the entire week with him. I’ve never had to sneak a guy in here for you before, so you can’t tell me you guys weren’t fucking up here.”

“We weren’t,” you say, trying to convey the honesty in your tone. “We were justing hanging out. We’re friends.”

“Right,” she scoffs, motioning for you to turn back around with her fingers before she picks up another strand of your hair. “Probably for the best then, ‘cause I was starting to worry.”

“Why would you worry?”

“Because I don’t want my best friend to get hurt again,” she says, like it’s obvious. “I know you think you’re friends, but he’s gonna crush you when he starts seeing someone and you get left behind.”

“Why would you even say that?” You turn again, this time all attempts at nonchalance thrown out the window.

She stares back at you, holding the hot brush out to the side as she levels you with a glare at how close you were to making her burn you again.

You glare back. She’s being a bitch for the sake of it, now. Why would she even bring that up? Where did that even come from?

She huffs, yanking at the wire so it extends and putting the brush down on the heat proof mat on your dresser.

“Promise me you won’t go all crazy when I tell you this,” she sits on the edge of your bed, hands splayed out by her sides, “Because Jack told me something pretty crazy a couple weeks ago, and I’ve been debating whether or not you need to know.”

“Just say it, Ellie,” you snap, tired of the theatrics. If it’s something you need to know, she should have told you when she found out - weeks ago, allegedly.

“He’s seeing somebody.”

You blink slowly, your eyelids feeling like they weigh 90lbs each.

No he isn’t. If you don’t have the time to be seeing anybody between your class schedule and being available to him, he sure as hell doesn’t have the time, being in the NHL and all.

“I’m sorry?” You ask, shuffling uncomfortably in your chair.

“Or speaking to her, at least.” She corrects, shrugging like it isn’t a big deal.

“Speaking to who?”

“Her name’s Yasmin,” Ellie says, and you don’t know why hearing some random name makes your throat go dry - the fact that there even is a name, and it’s not just some bullshit nothing story Ellie is running with. “Jack says she’s a friend of one of the other wags, they met at some bar when they went out a couple of weeks ago and hit it off, he’s texting with her all the time apparently.”

You try to think back on the week, on all the times he’s been on his phone - that first morning, when he’d told you he was checking for nearby restaurants, at the hockey game, when he’d said he was ordering concessions straight to your seats, all the times you thought he was texting the boys - could he have been secretly messaging Yasmin and not telling you?

“He would have told me,” you say, more to reassure your self than defend Luke, if you’re honest. He would have told you, right? You guys tell each other everything. You’ve told him more than you’ve told even Ellie about yourself, about your life.

He’s your best friend.

He would have told you.

“I think Jack has his wires crossed or something,” you say, feeling like your throat is closing up on you, or like the walls are closing in. “He isn’t seeing anybody.” And just as she opens her mouth, “Or speaking to them.”

“Would it matter if he was? Even if it’s not Yasmin, if it’s somebody else, is that a problem? Could you watch him just move on?”

You just about stop yourself from biting back, of course it would matter, or, of course I couldn't watch that, your lips staying parted and gaping back at her like an idiot as you try to think of any other response.

“We’re friends.” Is all you can come back with, but it feels like a lie when you say it, this time.

“Okay then,” Ellie shrugs, pushing herself up and reaching back for the brush. “Can you stay still while I finish your hair please, I can’t deal with the guilt of burning your neck.”

You feel catatonic, after that, so it isn’t hard to stay motionless, staring blankly at your reflection as you try to compute the information she’s just spewed at you.

Yasmin, who he hit it off with weeks ago, who he texts all the time, who he hasn’t told you a single thing about.

You replay those facts over and over in your head, somehow managing to get ready in a zombie-like state, somehow managing to walk with Ellie all the way to the hockey house, integrating yourself into a group in the corner as everyone moves around you, people talking and music playing, and everything just blurs into noises and shapes until your phone buzzes harsh in your pocket.

You don’t know what you’re expecting when you check the notification - mindlessly scanning the words until you’re shocked back into reality, and you have to read it again for them to register.

It’s an email, and your settings allow you to read the sender and first line only.

From: NYU Office of Admissions

Congratulations! On behalf of the admissions committee, I’m delighted to-

You gasp, and you don’t even open the whole thing up to read it before you’re pushing yourself away from the group you’re with, shouldering past a mass of bodies and trying to catch a glimpse of brunette curls as you crane your neck into every room.

“Hey, have you seen Luke?” You grab Ethan as soon as you see him, who responds with wide eyes and catches you as you stumble.

“I’m pretty sure I saw him in the kitchen with-,”

“Thanks!” You yell, rushing off in the other direction before he can finish, until you finally get there, pushing straight into the room before you can think anything of it.

Luke is in the kitchen. He’s leaning against the counter in the far corner, a playful smile on his face, the kind he gives you when he’s trying to make you blush or something. And you’d recognise who’s stood in front of him anywhere, even by the back of her hair.

Victoria Anderson, reaching her chicken claw hands up and pushing Luke’s curls out of his face.

You feel a little like the world is spinning around you - like you’re stuck in the middle, and everything else is flashing by in a dizzying blur. You don’t even think your heart is beating anymore, the blood draining from your head as you watch what’s happening in front of you.

And before he can see you in such a pitiful state, you turn on your heel and push your way back out of the door, slipping through the same bodies you’d passed before until you’re out the front door, the shock of the cold air bringing you back into consciousness.

Would it matter if he was? It it’s somebody else, is that a problem?

Ellie’s words from before ring like a warning bell through your skull.

Of course it fucking matters.

All Luke needs to see is a flash of your hair as the door to the kitchen closes to know he’s fucked everything up, once again. He doesn’t know why it takes him a minute to register just how bad the situation is before he makes a move, though.

Victoria had cornered him a while ago, had been clinging to him for a good 20 minutes or something, and she had been relentless with her questions and attempts at conversation. It had been a little suffocating, even more so when she told him that her and her boyfriend had broken up before the new year, and he’d tried to excuse himself for a drink, but she had followed.

He’d tried to let her down gently, had told her that he wasn’t interested anymore, and she had pushed her luck, cornering him against the counter, and asking, “Not even for old time’s sake?”

Hooking up with her in the first place all those years ago had probably been a mistake - he’d known it back then, never pursuing anything serious, and he knows it now, when she just can’t take no for an answer. “I’m into somebody else,” he had smiled, pitifully, wincing a little as she ran a hand through his hair to try convince him. “I’m not interested.”

And that had been about as plain as he could say it - thankful for the distracting creak of the kitchen door as it swung shut that he could look away from the way her face turned into a scowl, and then immediately panicked by the sight of you leaving.

All he could do was blink, wondering if it had been a figment of his imagination. And then he figured that even if it was, he doesn’t want to be in this kitchen with Victoria Anderson. He wants to spend his last night in Michigan with you.

He edges out from where she has him trapped, and rushes out of the kitchen in search of you, looking over all of the heads in the larger space to try and find you.

Ethan catches him by the elbow as he passes, and asks if he’s looking for you.

“Yeah, have you seen her?” He asks, feeling a little breathless as he still tries to scan the room.

“Uh, she walked past a few seconds ago, looked pretty upset. She was looking for you, before.”

“Why didn’t you go after her?” Luke frowns, watching as Ethan’s brows furrow in response.

“She’s grouchy when she’s upset, starts getting all mean and bitey, I’m not getting in the middle of that.” He scoffs, crossing his arms, defensively.

“You’re supposed to bite back.” Luke sighs, knowing then that you hadn’t been a figment of his imagination at all. “Where did she go?”

“Think she’s outside.”

“Great,” Luke snaps, figuring he can apologise later for blaming Ethan of all people. He storms off, heading straight for the front door, relieved to find you outside when he bursts through it, ignoring the bite of the freezing cold as he takes you in - leaning against the rail on the porch, wiping at your face before you turn to fake a smile his way - a smile that makes his gut churn when it’s flashed alongside the tears you hadn’t quite managed to hide.

“Hey,” you say, voice small and weak, “Was looking for you.”

Okay. You’re not mad.

You’re upset, which is probably worse, but he can explain things if you’re willing to listen.

“Ethan said,” he tells you, moving to your side and leaning on the rail, too, his body facing yours. “That wasn’t what it looked like, in the kitchen,” he swears, and you nod, the movement short and subtle. “I swear, I’ve been trying to get her to leave me alone for the past 30 minutes.”

“It’s fine,” you shrug, and his heart plummets at the way you seem to close yourself off to feeling any type of way about it, again. “You can do what you want, with whoever you want.”

“I don’t want to do that,” he frowns, “Not with her.”

“Okay,” you pretty much whisper, your eyes barely meeting his before they dart away, your body turning back to lean against the side.

He watches you for a minute, trying to gauge how best to handle this, how best to make sure you understand that this is important, that this is something the two of you need to talk about, especially before he leaves for Jersey, tomorrow. The two of you have come too far to let something as stupid as this ruin what you’ve made for yourselves.

“Hey,” he calls out, reaching to swipe his thumb at the little trail left behind by your previous tears, using the leverage to turn your head until you’re facing him again, and he leans in. “I don’t want to be with anybody but you tonight, I promise.”

Your smile is small, but there’s something there to cling to this time, the soft crinkle of your eyes as you lean into his grip.

“Okay,” you repeat, blinking up at him as he tries to level his breathing.

“You gonna come back inside with me before you freeze to death?” He asks, taking his hand away and sliding it slowly down your arm until he can grip weakly at your fingers, hoping they open to let him slide his own through the cracks.

“Wait,” you grip back, your smile growing a little. “I have something to show you.”

“Yeah?” He asks, holding your hand between the two of you, “Did you get me a going away gift?”

You wordlessly hand him your phone from your other hand, and he takes it in the one that’s free, frowning as he looks down at it. “This is your phone.”

“Duh,” you scoff, “Look what’s on there.”

He taps on your screen until it lights up, eyes squinting to read the tiny text - having to read it twice until it registers in his still-a-little-panicked brain.

“You got in,” he mutters, like he can’t quite believe it - and it isn’t that he wasn’t expecting you to get in, but the excitement feels like a bucket of ice water thrown over his head, shocking and exhilarating all at once. “You got in!” He repeats, this time louder, prouder and the intensity of the smile that breaks out is almost instantaneously achey.

He drops your hand to grab you by the face, holding onto your own smile like it’s the most precious gift you can give him, jumping as he caresses you and letting the sound of your giggle seep into his skin.

“Yeah,” your voice comes out a little like a whine, tears prickling at your eyes as they almost close with how big your smile is. “I’m going to NYU!”

It’s the first time you’ve said it - the first time you’ve known it for sure - and he’s so lucky he’s the first to hear it, he thinks, that he’s privy to you letting yourself have one more good thing without the fear of it being taken away or falling apart.

“You’re going to NYU,” he tells you, prouder than he’s ever been of anybody else in his life, probably.

You’re gonna be across the river - a mere 30 minutes away on a good day - and he’s gonna get to see you all the time. Movie nights can be in person, you can come to his games, you can taste all the food you’re convinced isn’t as nice as he’s making out - and all of those things seem selfish to be the first to come to mind, but he can’t help it, he’s so happy he could cry, himself.

He’s so distracted by the thought of crying that he doesn't realise you’re reaching up - that your fingers are curling around the back of his neck and you’re pulling him down, your lips colliding and moving together until his body turns to autopilot.

His hands grip at your waist, his mouth deepens the kiss until he can swipe his tongue against yours, and his feet shuffle clumsily until he’s guiding you away from the rail, toward the house, and pressing you gently into the cold brick wall. Your back arches until your chest presses to his front, and you kiss and kiss him until you both run out of breath, relying on muscle memory to guide you to all the places you know each other likes.

He’s in a daze when you part, panting and blinking rapidly and trying to form any single coherent thought.

That is, until you say, “I don’t want to watch you move on.”

What?

“I don’t understand,” he mutters, trying to make sense of what the hell you’re talking about. He’d explained the whole Victoria thing. Is that seriously the only reason you kissed him? Because seeing him with her made you feel a certain way? “I thought you wanted to be friends.”

“I did,” you respond, blinking back, “I do, but I-,”

“You don’t want anyone else to have me either?”

He doesn’t even know why he’s getting agitated, it’s probably the drinks he’d had before you got to the party - but he kissed you because he loves you. He kissed you because he’s proud of you, and happy for you, and excited to show you how much of himself he can give when you’re finally in the same place for an extended period of time. He kissed you because he’s spent the last week trying not to, the last 6 weeks convincing himself that he shouldn’t want to, ever since fucking Harry met Sally, and the last 8 or so months trying to fight the need to.

And you kissed him because you were upset somebody else might have gotten there first.

“You tell me that we can’t ever be more, and when I try move on, you keep reeling me back in,” he huffs, “Like you don’t want me, but you don’t want anyone else to have me, either!”

“That isn’t true,” you frown, trying to grasp at a hand that he pulls away.

“Which part?” He asks, head tilting as he waits for you to figure it out. “You don’t even know what you want,” He sighs, tired all of a sudden and hurt that after all this time, you still aren’t sure on him. You still don’t want the same things, for the same reasons - still won’t let yourself believe in something good, even after the the universe just proved to you that it’s possible. “I don’t even think I know what I want out of this. I think about you all the time, you know, think about us. What we were, what we are now,” He had convinced himself only days ago that he could be your friend, if that’s what you need him to be, but now he can’t help it - not when you dangle the idea of more so carelessly in front of him like this. “What we could be, if you just let me all the way in.”

“I want to,” and because he knows you too well, he doesn’t get his hopes up at how quick you are to tell him that. “I promise you, I want to. I just don’t know how.”

Luke scoffs out a humourless chuckle, breaking eye contact as he clenches his jaw - thoughts working overtime to try and understand again where you’re coming from.

“It’s been 8 months,” he sighs. “I don’t know how long I’m supposed to wait for you to figure it out.”

He doesn’t see the way your lips tremble, or your eyes well with tears, again.

“If all you want to be is friends, then I’ll be your friend,” he tells you. “But we both have to find a way to move on. It won’t work otherwise.”

He doesn’t want to move on - the thought of being with anybody that isn’t you honestly makes him feel a little sick, but if it’s what he has to do to make sure he doesn’t feel like this again, maybe he should.

Your lips stay parted, and you don’t argue back this time, blinking back tears as you stare at him, wide eyed and unsure.

“It isn’t fair to either of us to keep blurring the lines like this.”

You nod, pressing your mouth closed, averting your gaze until you’re not looking at him anymore, you’re looking past him, all the joy from before draining from you like sand in a timer. You stay silent, and he figures a nod is all he’s gonna get, because it’s another minute before he finds the words to say, himself.

“Let’s go back inside, yeah?” He asks, your hand slipping behind your back just as he thinks of reaching for it, the action causing his stomach to twist with guilt. “C’mon, we’ll get you a drink to celebrate the good news.”

“I think I’m gonna go home,” you mutter, so quiet that he almost doesn’t hear it, and you look back up and give him that same small, forced smile that made his gut churn when he came outside, looking at his cheek instead of his eyes. “I have class in the morning, so I should probably go to bed or something.”

“Alright, I’ll walk you-,”

“No, uhm,” you step back, and all he can do is watch as you slip away one more time, “This is literally a party for you. It’s just around the corner, I’ll be fine.”

And if he had thought he fucked up before, this feels a thousand times worse, now.

“I’m sorry,” you squeak out, and the joyous tears that were teasing his lashes earlier turn somewhat sour, stinging until they gather in a thick pool in his eyes. “I didn’t mean to make it weird.”

“You didn’t.” He’d reach for you again if he didn’t think you’d flinch away - if the sight of you retreating from him once again wouldn’t make him want to curl up and die. “I’m gonna get one of the guys to walk you, alright? Please don’t go on your own.”

“It’s fine-,”

“It isn’t fine,” he doesn’t mean to snap - just wants to be firm, just wants you to feel that he cares - but it comes out harsh, because this can’t be another thing that you sweep under the rug to pretend you don’t care. “Please just wait.”

“Okay.”

He rushes inside then, and he grabs the first of his friends that he sees - thankfully, Ethan, who he knows cares about you enough to make sure you get home safe.

“Hey man, did you find her?” Ethan asks, his face twisting with concern as he takes in what must be sheer panic on Luke’s face. “Is she alright?”

“I need you to walk her home, she’s waiting outside, I need you to go before she goes on her own,” he drags Ethan towards the closet by the front door, where he’d discarded his jacket when he arrived earlier. “Give her this and text me when she’s inside, yeah?”

“Yeah, of course,” his best friend frowns, confused as he takes the coat from his shaking grip “Are you sure you don’t want to do it?”

“I don’t think she wants to be around me right now.”

“Oh,” Ethan huffs, shoulders straightening as he understands the gravity of the situation. If you don’t want to be around Luke, you probably shouldn’t be on your own. “Right, sure, I’ll take her now.”

“Just make sure you text me when she’s safe.”

“Yeah, I’ve got it, man,” Ethan chuckles nervously, “I’ll text you.”

And all Luke can do again is watch - watch as Ethan rushes out the front door, watch through the little sliver of window as you let him shrug the coat around you, as you accept the grip to both your arms as he tries to warm you up, watch as the two of you disappear from what the small rectangle allows him to see.

Watch as he, once again, lets go of the one thing he wants more than anything else in the whole world.

#luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #luke hughes fluff #*writing #guys I'm breaking my own heart fr writing this fic I want one #a luke #I want one real bad

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imaginesheaven · 2 years ago

Text

Lonely Water (GN!Reader x TF141)

Lonely Water

GN!Reader x TF 141 (platonic)

Summary: You crash into the ocean with a helicopter during a mission. Waiting for your hopefully on time rescue you relive some of your favorite memories of your team. Kind of inspired by the song “Hold Back The River” by James Bay.

Callsign: Phoenix

Length: Around 2.3k words

Warnings: Swearing as always, angst, mentions of injuries, drowning

“Mayday! Eagle 3 is coming down in the middle of the ocean. The pilot is dead and I have no fucking clue how to fly this thing! … Oh, fucking hell…”

There is nothing but darkness around you. The mysterious but dark night sky with thousand shining stars above you and the deadly ocean lurking beneath you. The water is just waiting for you to lose the last of your endurance so you can sink into its cold embrace.

“I’m stronger than you think”, you hiss at the tiny waves of dark ocean water, but you are actually not sure how much longer you will survive. The cold of the sea comes creeping in what feels for hours now. It made itself a home in your bones so deeply freezing that your lips have turned already blue. The feeling in your arms and legs starts to fade just like your will of survival.

The helicopter sunk within minutes after the horrific crash into the water. There was literally nothing left to cling onto. You wouldn’t be Jack clinging for dear life onto a wooden door, while your true love stays safely above the freezing water.

The thought of the Titanic brings a weak smile onto your lips. At least you still got your humor with you to keep you company.

Darkness fills your mind with the sinking dread that your team probably wouldn’t be fast enough to rescue from this death trap. Your form floats on the water like a dead man hoping to delay the bitter end for just another few minutes.

The exhaustion slowly takes over as your eyes flutter shut desperate for a moment of rest. Cold water comes rushing over your face since the ocean was waiting for its chance to drown you in its embrace. The water is merciless. Adrenaline rushes through your vein bringing back your will to fight. You swim with weak strokes back to the surface. How much longer can you keep up against the sea?

“Oi! Not so fast, Phoenix!”, a familiar voice behind you yells out. The dirt beneath your shoes crunches as you jog through a patch of trees. Wait, a minute. The water surrounding you has vanished? This can’t be real, right? It hast to be a memory.

“Too bad you are so slow, Soap. You could easily catch up with me if you would work out a bit more”, you reply to the familiar voice behind you. Soap stares at you speechless for a second before he speeds up to catch you. Laughing you send him a wink and even put more speed on to outrun him more than easily.

Soap grunts with exhaustion ready to bring you down with him. He jumps forward his arms stretched out. This man is an open book for you for years now. Still grinning you make a step to the side completely out of his reach. Soap falls to the ground without you.

Absolutely pumped you start your little victory dance knowing exactly that in the distance Price, Gaz and Ghost are watching the two of you with binoculars. “That was quite a fall Soap took there”, the Captain comments the downfall of the poor Scott, “Pay up, Gaz.” The young soldier lets out a groan but always pays his bet debts.

“Phoenix could outrun us all, Gaz, never think otherwise”, no matter how often Ghost sees you running he is always mesmerized by your endurance.

“How can you be so damn fast?”, Soap can’t believe he lost once again. You give him a half shrug with your shoulder, “I imagine Death chasing me and what do we say to Death?”

“Not today”, you whisper smiling. The thought of your teammates brings you pure joy despite the fact you are probably going to drown. The only family you ever had and ever needed. For a second you close your eyes hoping to see more memories.

“So, your callsign is Phoenix. What’s the story behind it?”, Gaz asks you with a bright smile on his lips. Sometimes he reminds you of a little boy in a candy store. You can’t believe how much happiness his happiness can bring you.

“Well…”, you start your not so exciting story, but Soap interrupts you immediately: “Phoenix survived a car crash with a big explosion and came back out of its ashes like a Phoenix. Tada! The callsign was born!”

The silence in the room is deafening before you burst out with laughter, “What the hell, Soap?! No, that’s not what happened!” Everyone except Gaz gets a good laugh from this story. He looks so terribly confused and kind of intimidated at the same time.

“Poor Gaz is probably traumatized for the rest of his life. I like to burn things and someone else already had the fucking callsign Pyro so I had to improvise”, you explain him the situation with a few words. The young soldier rolls his eyes. Still a tiny smile on his lips can be seen.

“Have you any idea how hard it was to get Phoenix and Soap as both demolition freaks on the team? Explosions. Fires. Laswell was not happy at all”, Price recalls his quite one-sided conversation with her. The only thing she said was “NO!” over and over again. Well, she also said “FUCKING HELL FOR SURE NOT!” once. But Captain Price gets what he wants in the end.

A tiny tear rolls down your face, but you can’t feel anything anymore. The cold crept into every single fiber of your body. In the end it doesn’t matter anyway. You are still surrounded by water so what matters a single tear escaping? It’s the only one. Way too tired you can’t share more than that tiny tear with the ocean.

“Are you fucking serious? You could have died!”, you hiss angrily at Ghost as you patch the bullet wound in his side up. The tough soldier keeps quiet letting you work. “It’s like I’m talking to a brick wall without a single thought behind those eyes. Except for sacrificing himself for someone else”, you keep going with your monologue. No one dares to speak like that to him. Except you. It’s always you.

Ghost can’t see how your hands are shaking. How the fear takes over your already worry-ridden mind. How you blame yourself for not being fast enough in the end. You could have prevented this from happening.

But Simon knows you better than you yourself sometimes, “Not for anyone. Only for you, Phoenix. I’m sorry, but please stop worrying. Stop blaming yourself. In the end it was my decision. That’s what we do for each other. Keeping each other safe, right?”

Not answering you put away the first med kit finally done with patching him up. Ghost isn’t the one with the soft side, but with you it is so easy to feel safe for once. You stand up hoping to run from this conversation. His hand stops you dead in your tracks as he grabs your wrist, “Right?”

A slight smile appears on your lips still not turning around to face him, “Of course… but you are still a brick wall.” Simon can’t help himself but smile too behind his mask.

What have you done? If Simon would be here with you, he would hold this whole conversation against you. It’s the same reason that has brought you into the middle of the ocean. You wanted to keep them safe. Your team. Your family.

The helicopter was loaded with explosive meant to kill. Bombs. Soap’s favorite. There was no time to defuse them. You had not a single second to think about it. Just enough time to act on impulse. What a great idea to bring the helicopter down over the ocean far away to hurt someone else. But what about you?

“No, you are not stronger than me, Gaz”, Soap puts down the money for his bet. There is never a dull moment with those clowns. A tiny smile appears on your lips as you nurse your lonely drink in your hand.

“What’s so funny?”, Price notices your rather happy facial expression. “Nothing, just happy to be alive”, you reply simply. The Captain doesn’t need an explanation what you mean exactly. He just knows. You don’t need to elaborate how they give you a feeling of being home. How they are like the family you never had before in your life. They are everything you need to be happy.

But now it is time to let go.

Tired you keep your eyes closed as the cold water pulls you down into its embrace. You are not scared anymore to give up this time. Only gratefulness and happiness are present in your heart and mind. The joy you experienced is more than enough for a whole lifetime.

For the last time you open your eyes to see the darkness around you. It was the only friend you had the last few hours. The tiny waves trying to lull you into a memories-filled sleep. The cold making it easier to let go. You have been tired for so long already. Tiny air bubbles escape and leave you behind.

The darkness lurks beneath you, but above the water surface shines a strange light. Is that the beacon of hope you were looking for the whole time? There are voices too, but you can’t understand what they are yelling. You are sinking further and further. Far away from the light.

Above the lonely water your team is looking for you desperately.

The thought sends a surge of energy through your body. As hard as you can you wave your arms and legs completely uncoordinated. Still the movement brings you closer to the surface. You can’t give up now. Not so close to them.

Your whole body is numb and hurts at the same time terribly. The ocean gives its best to keep you to itself. The cold clouds your mind. Are you paddling into the right direction? Are you going further down?

Then your arm breaks through the surface. But that’s all you had left in you.

Something grabs your hand so tight you almost screamed out loud because of the pain. Your head is still underwater. There is another tightness in your lungs screaming for just a tiny bit of fresh air.

Slowly you get dragged out of the darkness. Leaving the ocean behind. You take a gasping breath. The world outside the water is so overwhelming. The lights blind you for a moment. The loud noises roar in your ears. Pure chaos. For a moment you miss the calming darkness of the ocean.

A slight smile would appear on your lips as you see the faces of your teammates, but that’s too much for now. Gaz and Soap have their hands tightly on your arms, while Price and Ghost try to heave you into the helicopter by your tactical vest. All your gear got extremely heavy soaked with ocean water to the brim. You wish you could help them out, but you reached your limit of energy a long time ago. They lower you to the ground finally freed of the water.

“We got Phoenix. Go, Nik”, Price gives his order to Nicolai. Your favorite Russian pilot. Ghost and Soap try to get rid of your tactical vest together. Gaz stands ready with a blanket to warm you up. They keep talking to you, but you can’t quite follow their words. Your mind still frozen in place.

“Hey, hey. You broken?”, John puts his hand on your ice-cold cheek to get your attention. This time you can manage a weak smile, “Define broken, Captain.” He lets out a deep sigh full of worry but more than happy to hear your voice once again.

“Don’t ever do this again, muppet. You were out there the whole night. We- … We literally thought you were gone. Want to sit up?”, Price grabs your shoulder softly too scared to hurt you after what you went through. Ghost on the other side helps you too to sit up.

The sun starts to rise on the horizon bringing another day to this earth. Another day you are able to see. Another day to be alive.

“You damn lucky bastard. The endurance from your jogging probably saved your ass out there”, Simon can’t believe he gets another chance to see you again. It breaks his heart to see you beaten up and weak like this, but you are alive.

“What do we say to Death?”, Soap asks you grinning like always. “Not today”, you reply enjoying the little inside joke the two of you have.

Price puts his leg behind your back so you can relax yourself against him. Ghost rests his hand on your shoulder letting himself feel grateful to have you back. Soap sits next to you. Shoulder against shoulder. Just like out in the battlefield. Gaz holds one of your hands in his to get them back to normal temperature.

Your little family.

Lonely Water

Let us hold each other

2K notes · View notes

in1-nutshell · 4 months ago

Note

Can I request a buddy whose like Spider-Man in regards to having his personality an his power along with the interactions being with Young Justice or Justice League unlimited

I picked Young Justice for Spidey.

Hope you enjoy!

Spidey Buddy in Young Justice

SFW, Platonic, Mutant reader

YOUNG JUSTICE

Spidey Buddy was a part of the original group of sidekicks.

Not that he was a sidekick for a major hero, Spidey was his own man… despite being the youngest of the group.

A fact that Robin does not let go of.

Jokes on him, Spidey is taller!

Being the youngest on the team Spidey and Robin both have each other’s back’s, whether it be team related or not.

Robin is running from an angry villain. THWAP! Robin is hanging upside down from the rooftop as the villain runs past where he was. Spidey is upside down right beside him. Spidey: “How’s the view?” Robin: “Would be better if blood wasn’t rushing to my brain… but—” Spidey: “We are not doing the trust falls.” Robin: “Oh c’mon!” Spidey: “Last time that happened I found an angry Batman on my patrol route. I wasn’t even in Gotham!”

Kid Flash wants to know more about Spidey’s webbing on a scientific level.

Spidey has lost count of the number of experiments they have down on the webs.

It doesn’t help when the experiments get a bit dangerous and certain mentors are called in.

Wally is sitting in the med bay with a couple of bandages. Robin is right beside him with the same bandages. Spidey is being stared down by Batman while Flash just looks concern. Flash: “So explain that one more time.” Spidey: “For the record, it was Kid Flash’s idea.” He winces a bit under the Bat glare. Spidey: “They wanted to see if the webs could still hold under freezing temperatures and falling from several stories—” Kid Flash: “And I’d do it again!” Spidey: “You have ice burns and a twisted wrist! Both of you!” Robin: “Did he stutter?” Spidey’s eye lenses twitch while looking at the mentors. Spidey: “…I’m going home…”

Kaldur liked the little spider.

Spidey was a great friend to him adjusting to the surface world.

Aqualad freaked out a bit when he first saw Spidey crawl on the walls.

There wasn’t a lot that unsettle him… but seeing his teammate randomly crawling without any notice… that was…

Kaldur was walking into the kitchen at 3am. He spots something in the corner of the room near the ceiling. The figure suddenly turns, with small white eyes. Kaldur: “WHAT IN THE--!” He suddenly flips the light switch. Spidey is in his pj’s, mask half off as he was eating a hot dog. Kaldur: “…” Spidey: “…” Spidey waves a bit. Spidey: “Hi Kaldur. You want some?” Kaldur: “You… you can do…” Spidey: “Climb walls? Yeah, wait didn’t Wally tell you? I could have sworn—hey where are you going?” Kaldur just walks out of the kitchen.

Spidey completely understood why Roy left the group after hearing he was just a sidekick than partner, one of the main reasons he didn’t ‘partner’ with any older hero too.

But that didn’t mean he wanted to leave the others.

When more members start joining, Spidey does his best to help them adjust to life in the cave.

He knows these new changes can be hard and can make someone homesick after a while.

But it is also time for the newest members to get used to his powers.

M’gann found it fascinating to see Spidey swinging around to catching bad guys using his webbing.

Spidey gets pretty protective over M’gann when someone tries to take advantage of her naitivty.

M’gann is floating in the air. Spidey is in her arms with his arms crossed. M’gann: “He’s adorable!” Spidey’s lenses squint. Spidey: “If anyone hurts her, I will web you by your underwear.”

Artemis likes to test his ‘Spidey sense’ during sparing or target practice, using safer arrows of course.

Even testing it out with other random objects around.

Spidey is walking to the kitchen. His body suddenly gets the tingle and moves to the side. An orange flies past his head. Spidey: “Ha! Its going to take a lot more than an orange to—” Spidey’s head jerks to the side as a stapler flies by. Spidey: “Okay that’s just—” Spidey jumps to the ceiling when a chair crashes down. Spidey: “That’s just rude.”

Connor is caught completely off guard by Spidey’s super strength, enough to make him put more power in his movements.

Adding the agility and jumps, Superboy has his work cut out for him.

Superboy is standing while watching static on the TV. Spidey was perched on his shoulders while reading a comic. Spidey: “Hey Connor, you want to read this?” Connor just grunts. Spidey: “Suit yourself.”

Other than Robin, Spidey makes sure that his identiy is on the lockdown.

Though he is pretty sure that Batman might know, I mean, his Batman.

But he makes sure that no one on the team finds out.

No one could!

… right?

#dc #dc comics #young justice x platonic reader #young justice x reader #mutant buddy

172 notes · View notes

alexrosa13 · 2 months ago

Text

To Belong

Luke x female!reader x Kieran//twins x reader ★ platonic!Sylus x reader ★ platonic!mc x reader ★ Sylus x mc

Genre: fluff/angsty

Warnings: 19k words, reader and mc are two different people!, 3rd person perspective!, spoilers to twins lore! (reading World Underneath: Mischief is highly recommended before reading this fic), small hints/spoilers to Sylus myth, mention of human experiments, mention of character trauma, mention of sa, protective dad Sylus, twins crushing on reader hard

Note: timeline of this fic happens between 2042 (reader&twins 12★Sylus 22) and 2048 (current timeline of the game★reader&twins 18★Sylus 28) and I hope it will be clear enough while reading.

for masterlist and request info head to the navigation →

half-edited by @asiakim03, rest proofread by me; special dedication for @pozuki for making me post it after it's been sitting in my drafts for 2 months

to learn more about reader's abilities before reading head to her acts→

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Sometimes teen love is floating, sometimes you may find your soulmate; but what if you got two?

2044, Middle of Winter.

The chances of a power outage in the middle of the night in one of the main areas of the EVER building are slim, but not impossible. Amid the chaos, with everyone panicking and scrambling to find the cause of the issue, no one notices that one of the computers has been accessed. Test records from years ago have been opened, and crucial information is being systematically deleted. In a matter of seconds, there will be no valuable data left.

????? Control EVOL Test Record

Subject ID

668

Subject Name

- - - - -

Age

Experimental Side Effect(s) Log

no information available

Evaluation Results

no information available

Several electronic devices had shut off on their own but a few minutes later, the power in the building was suddenly restored. Night-shift workers gradually returned to the office responsible for managing the experiment database. Everyone have taken themselves onto their assigned seats and began checking for any missing files.

The hours have passed and everything seemed fine yet, no one had ought to check the old files that had been forgotten over time. Everything have appeared intact and by the next day, the incident dismissed as an accident and have been quickly forgotten.

After all, why would someone make the commotion happen just to leave everything in it's place? It seems that no person working there will ever know the truth about the erased data. To be fair: who would have though that someone hacked the building data just to erase some not important piece of old experiment notes, perhaps containing information regarding someone who's presumably dead? And who would even think that the person behind it would be some big shot from N108 Zone? Exactly, no one.

And to be honest, it's better for them to not know.

~★~★~★~

2042, Late Autumn.

N109 Zone was in chaos that day. Buildings on fire, people bleeding and dying, while the ones who were still in good enough shape was able to fortunately run away from the mess. There were sounds of shooting and fighting everywhere you go. Yet, no one even remembers what started this blood-lust show.

A person was seen calmly standing with their hands in the pockets of their elegant pants. A man looking so out of place in the middle of such chaos, but at the same time fitting there perfectly like the most important detail on a masterpiece.

There's at least a dozen dead bodies laying before him as the look he throws at them a look of disgust. Suddenly, his eyes turned to look at the half-collapsed wall, noticing a kid hiding there who's looking at the man with eyes full of curiosity yet not even a hint of fear. Probably a stray with no family.

They continue to look at each other, the man then cocks an eyebrow and his face show the slightest tinge of shock. Why can't he see that kid's desire? Why does his evol not work on them? For a moment, he sees their eyes glowing up a bit, it's an evolver too. But no person with or without an evol would be able to hide their desires before him.

He let out a an amused chuckle, his curiosity rising. What kind of power do they posses? Either way, it wasn't a question he needed an answer for. That kid probably won't even survive long in this area. Without a word, he turned around and walked away from the mess he had left in his enemies' base, not giving a single thought about the unusual child he met.

However, something clinged onto him after he took a couple of steps and that made him stop in his tracks. He looked down again meeting the eyes of that kid.

"What do you want?" his voice, rough and cold was just like his stares but he didn't get an answer. The seemingly clueless child staring at him in silence. Their expression emotionless, no fear, no sadness, no anger.

What was wrong with them? No child should be able to hide their emotions this well. Of course, they weren't 5 years old or so but still, they couldn't be older than 13. Two questions appeared in the back if his mind: what happened to this runt and what was he supposed to do with it?

He had no answer to any of them.

"What? Am I supposed to just take you with me now?" he asked in a sarcastic voice yet still didn't get an answer. He tried to move away from their little hug— for their hands were not even able to wrap themselves fully around his waist— and succeeded. Giving them one last glance over his shoulder before proceeding to walk away, leaving dead bodies behind him to rot or get caught in flames, he couldn't care less.

Who would have thought that today would be the day a new shadow started following him?

~★~★~★~

2046, Middle of Winter.

"Boss, that Sherman guy is suspicious. We'll keep an eye on him for you!" says Luke, kneeling with his twin before Sylus.

"We know his address, his usual spots, and his contacts. We can report to you every two weeks," Kieran added after his brother.

The 'Boss' seems to think about it for a minute, his expression unreadable. Finally he spoke to.. who exactly?

"What do you think, little one? Should I agree?" He tilted his head toward something behind him, and both boys glanced in that direction, noticing a silhouette a few meters away, leaning against a tree with a hood pulled low over their head.

The twins looked at each other, dumbfounded— both thinking: 'Who is that?' before looking back at the mysterious person, meeting their eyes. The rest of their face hidden behind a medical black mask. For whatever reason, they couldn't look away as if hypnotized.

After a couple of seconds, that person finally looked away. Their gaze turning to Sylus, nodding once in his direction before straightening their posture and walking away with no rush.

"I'll see you in two weeks," these words constitute the only command they receive.

"Understood, boss." when they finally stood up, they realize Sylus has already vanished.

They looked at each other sharing a grin at the fact that their 'plan' succeeded. Their happiness however was cut short by someone's soft chuckling coming from behind them. They turned around fast and noticed a girl around their age, sitting at a nearby tree.

"Congratulations on your new job, boys," she smiled at them, her hands grabbing a branch above her head, her body leaning forward towards their direction.

"And, you are?" Luke took a step forward, looking at her with a sly smirk on his face.

"It’s you," Luke turned to his brother, confused. But a moment later, he heard his twin’s voice in his head: ‘Look at her eyes.’ He did—and then he understood.

The mysterious girl started giggling to herself quietly but eventually, she couldn't help it and began laughing so hard that the branch she was sitting on started to shake.

"You should have seen your faces!" she said after calming herself down a little, smile still visible on her lips.

'Pretty...' The twins voiced in their minds, both looked at each other in shock. How did they think about THAT at the same time.

"I hope you'll do a good job so I'll be able to see you two again, " she jumped off the tree, landing gracefully on the grass and taking a couple of steps towards the twins. "It would be such a shame for such cute faces to end up dead on the ground, don't you think?" She smiled at them, a little more genuine and soft this time.

Luke and Kieran still couldn't comprehend the situation they found themselves in right now, but before any more words could leave their mouth, the girl already started moving forward. She walked straight through the gap between their bodies, her shoulders touching theirs for a split second and just like this, she left them behind.

The twins looked at each other, not being able to gather their thoughts at the moment. Both of them had a million questions flowing through their minds; 'Who is she?', 'Does she work for Sylus?', 'Why couldn't they look away from her eyes earlier?' suddenly, their eyes widen over something else that just registered in their heads.

"DID SHE JUST CALL US CUTE?"

~★~★~★~

2047, Early Spring.

The twins had been working as Sylus' spies for some time now, reporting back to him every two weeks as agreed. In the meantime, they also began spending more time at his base, occasionally even staying overnight in the many available guest rooms.

However, the mysterious girl they had met when they first asked Sylus to let them work for him hadn’t appeared anywhere near their line of sight since that day. They tried to ask Sylus about her but he brushed them off every single time.

Today was another failed attempt to pry.

"No," was the only thing leaving Sylus' mouth at the mention of 'the person they saw that day' and this time, they didn't even manage to finish their sentence before his refusal.

"Oh c'mon Boss, we need to know!"

"Why can't you just tell us? Is her existence top Onychinus type of secret or something?"

"If that's the case, then we have the right to know since we're official Onychinus members now!" All sorts of reasoning started flowing out of the twins' mouths, they stopped only after noticing the glare Sylus threw their way.

"If she wanted you two to know who she is, she would have already told you herself," after that, their Boss-man went to his office, making it clear that he is not in the mood to listen to teenagers rambling for even a minute longer. Luke and Kieran shared a look and even through their masks, they could still read the other's disappointed expression.

They sat on the couch, defeated, their limbs sprawled across the cushions and their heads resting against the backrest. Both stared at the ceiling, trying to come up with a new plan to meet the girl again. They weren't ones to give up easily, but after trying for so long, they were running out of ideas.

After a couple minutes of brainstorming, they both let out sounds of defeat. They had tried everything, yet still, nothing worked. Was she enjoying their suffering from the shadows?

"I'm so tired of his, man. We did everything! How are we supposed to meet someone who literally doesn't show any signs of existence other than that one time?!" Luke shoot up from his seat, accidentally spilling a glass of water which for whatever reason found itself at the edge of the table. "Oh, c'mon!" He picked up the glass, which was thankfully still intact and had put it back a little further away this time.

"Eh, I'll go get some napkins," Kieran stood up, stretching his limbs a bit and turned towards the kitchen area. Before he could take a step forward, his twin's hand abruptly grabbed his clothing and made him sit back down "What?"

"Look here!" He did as instructed, shifting his gaze to the spot on the table where water had spilled. Lying next to it was a sheet of paper with writing on it, the ink growing blurrier as the water spread.

They leaned over to read the note before it ends up completely unreadable.

Did you know that the best dreams happen in the room with the clear view at the night sky?

→ right wing of the mansion, second floor, right corridor, last door

see you in a dream ☆

They looked at the item lying next to the paper: a necklace with a small orb as its pendant. It resembled the night sky, with a moon and stars shining inside, the entire scene shifting slowly and unhurriedly, revealing different angles of the image. Luke reached out to touch it, but as his hand neared, the inside of the orb began to change.

He moved his hand away, startled. The brothers shared a look of curiosity before once again looking at the necklace. Its image now showing warm sunrise with clouds floating around it.

"Did you somehow influence it?" Kieran leaned a little closer for a better look.

"I didn't even touched it!" Luke jumped up at the questioning, raising his hands to show his innocence.

Younger of the twins slowly reached out his hand just like Luke before him, both boys looking in its direction with anticipation. However unlike his brother, Kieran didn't hesitate and took the orb into his hand. Both boys watched it change from the sunrise to sunset. All the brightness went missing, leaving a dark sky with the sun hiding behind the clouds.

Both of them stared at the orb for a while longer, image of the sky flowing inside the glassy object. Finally Luke spoke up.

"Do you remember where is this dreamy-room?"

~★~

"Was it the left or right corridor?" Kieran's hushed voice could be heard on top of the staircase leading to the second floor in the right wing of Sylus' mansion.

"Right one. To be honest how is he not getting lost in all of those corridors? I swear that this place is a maze made to trap victims inside." twins started walking through another never-ending corridor, but luckily this time there were no random small passages on the way.

Finally they reached the end of their very tiring journey (they were sneaking around the mansion for half an hour now, trying to avoid their Boss... He probably saw them anyways). They looked at each other, a little unsure now if they got to the right door.

Well now or never. Both of them reached for the handle, moving it together.

Doors opened quietly and before their eyes appeared a huge room with a window taking the whole wall on the opposite side to the door. The furniture all in black. The ceiling in this room seemed higher that ones in the other rooms they had seen. Behind the window was a view of the night, red sky of the N109 zone it's moon right in the middle, making the room seem almost magical and mysterious in a way.

They closed the door taking in their surroundings. Shelves fit perfectly with the walls, inside them books and random items in various colors going from crystals, to skulls, to candles (some burning, some not), jewelry and a lot more. In the middle of the room, literally in the floor, it's place found a huge mattress adored with various pillows and blankets.

In the end their eyes reached the table placed in the space between the window and a mattress. They cautiously moved towards it, still taking in the details of the room. They approached it from two sides and their eyes found themself looking at the thing right in the middle of it. It looked like a little tower made out of glass with a round spot engraved right on top of it as if something should be put there.

"What is that?"

"I have no idea."

They started thinking about what to do in this situation, and finally Kieran thought about something. He reached towards his neck and pulled the necklace from underneath his clothes taking it off through his head, being careful while getting it over his mask.

"Do you think we're supposed to put it here?" he hanged the necklace on his hand, the orb levitating right above the glass thingy.

"I mean she left it for us for some reason yeah? Might as well try it, what can go wrong?" both boys shrugged, not caring about the possibilities of the bad outcome much (as always).

Kieran slowly lowered the necklace, the orb fitting inside the glass structure like a glove. Suddenly the candles started burning brighter than when they first walked in, flames dancing in every direction and even some of the not lit ones came to life.

Twins looked around themself for some time, trying to understand what was going on, until something looking like a white string started coming from the little orb, making a perfect circle around the two and the table. Little dots started showing themselves on the thin line, some bigger, some smaller, some light, some dark, it wasn't long before the whole string was full of it and then another one started creating itself.

They locked eyes, thinking about the sight before then, not moving. Suddenly they heard a voice coming from above them and looking up they saw their mysterious girl sitting on the swing connected to the ceiling, swaying slowly a couple of meters above the huge mattress. They could swear it wasn't there when they walked in!

"It's my Dream Seal." she looked at them with a soft smile, the swing started slowly lowering itself.

"Your dream what?" the twins asked at the same time, looking mesmerized at the girl dressed in the prettiest flowing dress they ever saw.

Finally the swing lowered itself enough for her to put her legs on the mattress, standing up on it she made her way towards the table, which took her maybe five steps. The string made by the orb broke for her to get through and patched itself up right after, adding her into the circle.

"My Dream Seal. I put and lock my dreams inside of it. You could say that it's like a diary." she explained to them, slight smile still noticeable on her face, her eyes focusing on the orb glowing in the middle of the table. She reached out her hand, making a slow and graceful movement as if petting the orb without actually touching it.

Instantly it reacted to her presence, glowing a bit brighter especially in the places right below her hand.

She moved the same hand to create a circle in the air with her palm, making another string appear in the place of her previous movement. Another dot, a little bigger from the rest floated around them, showed itself right before her and started to go move around like the rest.

She put her hand under the line and when the little orb came right above it the room began changing it's appearance.

Twins started looking around curious about what exactly is happening. Finally their eyes saw what looked to be a grassland full of various flowers all around them, not seeing anything else in the distance but clear sky and flowers. They looked at each other, their eyes widening at the realization that their masks are off.

Their clothes changed from their usual black and red uniforms to simple white shirts, pants and shoes. They looked around trying to notice the girl that was next to them seconds ago, but there were no other silhouette in sight... Until their turned their heads once more....

Their faces were betraying the shock they felt at the scene playing right before them. Two of them, smiling and laughing, Luke sitting on the grass, pulled up on his hands and Kieran lying down on his back. What shocked them was the fact that their mysterious girl was lying there with them. Her head resting on Luke's thigh and her legs thrown around Kieran's belly.

One of Luke's hands playing with her hair while Kieran caressed her legs softly. The girl herself was just lying there, her eyes closed but a light smile still visible, looking perfectly content with the closeness of the twins.

None of them dared to move or look away, their minds silent, trying to save the moment into their memory. They looked at the images of themselves seeing their true smiles, feeling the real happiness, without the pain of their past following them and breaking the innocent moment.

Slowly but surely, the light from the dream started fading, their calm silhouettes leaving together with it. They never craved the sunlight more than at this very moment. The darkness of the room and the slight light coming from the red moon of the N109 Zone brings them back into reality. Their masks back on, the moment of vulnerability left behind together with the strings, of what they imagine are dreams, coming back to the orb they came from.

Their minds still couldn't wrap themself completely around what they just saw. They looked at each other, communicating without words and then turned their heads towards the mattress a couple steps away from them, the girl sitting on it crosslegged, with her back towards them and a book in her hands. Both brothers stood there, stuck in one place, their heartbeats matching in their fast rhythm.

Both with only one question in mind: what was that?

"You know, even with your masks I can still tell who is who." her voice finally broke the silence, she sounded unfazed by what just took place, unlike the twins.

"Oh really? Do you even know our names missy?" Luke being the first to come back to his usual demeanor, crossing his arms and tilting his head to the side (which must have looked adorable with his mask btw) sending the girl a 'challenging' look, she glanced at him over her shoulder and giggled a bit.

"Really Luke. How dare you doubt me?" she put her hand on her chest, exactly where her heart is, and sent him a 'hurt' look, obviously for show.

"Well would you look at that! You do know our names!" the older of the twins proclaimed, clasping his hands together and taking a step forward "Maybe it's about the time when we learn yours Miss..?" he sent her a pleading look, even though she couldn't see it, she could imagine it all the same.

"What do you think, Kieran? Is knowing my name actually so important for you?" she looked at the second brother who was unusually silent.

"It's- Well we both are dying to get to know it since our very first meeting, so if you would be kind enough to share it, we would be very, and by very I mean VERY, entirely grateful to you." finally it seemed that he came back to his normal self. Taking two steps forward he stood right next to his brother, both looking expectantly at the girl like little kids waiting for their promised treat.

"Hah so I've never left your minds since that night? It's been months babes. Did I turn your whole worlds over without even trying? Damn am I that hot?" the nickname she gave them and her loud laugh made their hearts stop and start beating all over again. She turned to face them, her legs still crossed and her upper-half supported by her outstretched arms. The book that she was previously occupied with ended up lying forgotten next to her. "It's Y/n."

They whispered her name at the same time, finally reaching the goal they were going after all this time. There was a moment of awkward silence with them not knowing what to say or ask and with her just staring at them, as if enjoying their stress. How dare she! But after some time she was still the first one to break the silence and stop their suffering.

"Do you have any other questions or is that it for today? You know... Boss will probably look for you soon, since it's his time of the day." she whispered the last part like a secret, sending them a wink.

Twins looked at each other finally knowing exactly what question they wanted to ask.

"What was that thing..."

"That we saw after you did something to that... Floating thing?" their voices betrayed their curiosity and nerves. They needed to know.

"It was a dream." she sounded so casual about it. How could this not move her at all?!

"A..."

"Dream..." twins still not completely understanding what was going on. They started a quick conversation in their heads.

'But if that was a dream...'

'And dreams are supposed to belong to someone, right?'

'Did you dream about that?!'

'Dude no! Not me!'

'But it wasn't me either!'

'Well if it wasn't mine nor your dream, then...'

They turned their heads at the lightning speed to look at each other, shock on their faces hidden behind the masks.

'IT WAS HERS?!'

"Did you come to the right conclusion yet? Because judging from your reactions, you did." they turned to look at the girl once more, still dumbfounded.

"You dreamed of us?" Kieran was the one of the duo speaking first this time.

"Not only us, but us in THAT situation?" Luke added, his voice a little raised and hurried to let the words out. Both of them stared at the girl before them, who still held her composure very well despite the situation she was in. How was she this calm when they were literally freaking out?!

"I do not have control over my dreams." she finally stood up from the mattress, taking some steps until her feet were on a steady ground right before them. Then she did something unexpected, she took one of Kieran's hands into hers, doing the same with Luke and held their palms closer to herself, closing her eyes, and breathing out heavily. Their linked hands started glowing slightly, both boys stared at them, not knowing what to do, but also somehow... Enjoying her closeness. Not opening her eyes she started talking to them, while still holding their hands in hers.

"Dreams are a fascinating phenomena. We forget most of them right after waking up, with some staying in our memory forever. We can dream about anything: from the past to present, to future, to things reminding us of our demons but also the memories of the things we hold dear to our hearts." finally opening her eyes her gaze jumping between both of them until finally finding it's place on their linked hands "I... Don't know myself why I dreamed of you in that situation, so I am afraid that I do not have the answers you seek right now. Something in my head never lets me forget you, ever since that meeting." she let go of their hands, lowering her own ones down, linking them together. Luke and Kieran just stood there, letting their own hands come back to their place next to their hips.

None of them dared to move, afraid to break the moment. They could still feel the lingering warm on their palms from her hands holding them.

Her eyes finally looked up at them, glowing. They both watched her closely, not knowing what she was doing with her 'magic' right before the moment, but none of them cared about it, something in them saying to trust her.

"You know... I never met anyone like you. I was watching you over the last couple of months on your little missions. You're like one person. The very same appearance. The masks and the faces before the incident matching perfectly. But somehow I see you as two different personas. The very same but different." the glow in her eyes slowly fading, but her warm smile coming back to make up for it "I can't wait to play more of 'guess the difference'."

She poked their masks with a small laugh. Waking them up from their trance.

"I believe that you have to go, today Sylus has an important meeting, you know." she walked past them to the table, taking the orb still resting on it, putting it over her head.

"Oh c'mon, sitting here with you is so much more interesting than some boring meeting." Luke proclaimed with a sigh of annoyance in his voice. Did they have to go?

"I believe that there will be a rather... Explosive moment, so you won't get too bored there." she let out a laugh, turning towards them and leaning on the table behind her "Besides I have something to do in the meantime, so even tho I would love to stay here and entertain you two cuties, I can't." she send them apologizing look.

"But you won't disappear like before, right?" Kieran's voice followed her statement. He was thankful for Luke's idea with the masks now more than ever, it saved him from reviling the blush on his cheeks at the nicknames the girl was giving them.

"Not this time, promise. At least not for this long." she shrugged.

"You better keep this promise or we'll find you ourselves" Luke pointed finger in her direction trying to look the most threatening he could, but it only made the girl laugh more.

"Oh I'm so scared~" she let out in a mocking tone, raising her hands as it to show 'im innocent officer'.

"Yeah, you better be!" the older of the twins continued his 'intimidating' act. Making Kieran scoff a bit at his behavior.

"Okay, okay, I promise you'll see me soon. But now I really have to go and I advise you to do the same." she stood up straight, her dress instantly fixing itself to look perfect "See you~" her voice sang right when she was passing by them, heading to the door.

Both boys let out their goodbyes and soon they heard the click of the door closing and their 'not-so-mysterious-anymore' girl walking out, leaving them alone with a thousand thoughts.

They stared at the door in silence for a moment longer before they spoke at the same time again.

"I think I'm in love."

"You too?!"

They instantly looked at each other shocked, but at the same time not really. They were so similar in so many aspects, but honestly they never thought of girls and crushes ever before, focusing on surviving and having their fun, but she seemed like she could bring even more fun to the group.

"Sooo... What do we do?" Luke asked, more relaxed now than before with the girl in the room, as he tried his best not to screw up anything in front of her. Obviously they will never argue because of the girl, but they had to sort it out somehow.

"I mean... She seemed pretty positive about both of us, right?" Kieran shrugged, based on the girl's dream they saw earlier the solution to this little 'problem' of theirs was rather obvious, no?

"So... What you are suggesting is... That we could both date her?" Luke looked deep in thought and for a moment Kieran even looked at him like at the biggest dumbass in the world.

"Yes. That is exactly what I suggest we do." he blinked his eyes, stating the obvious.

"But how will that work?" Luke continued to question.

"I have no idea, but hey, we'll manage, we always do. Also honestly I never thought about it but having one girlfriend with our... Situation is actually rather obvious choice, no?" at this sentence his older brother just nodded his head, silently agreeing. but then something else caught his eye.

"Wait. Where is that swing?!"

~★~★~★~

2047, Middle of Spring.

Weeks passed by with twins getting to know their mysterious girl. Even after getting to know her a little better she still seems to live 24/7 in their heads, somehow they are even more curious about her now than before knowing her.

They became friends fast after their second meeting, with her becoming their partner in crime when it came to pranks, but even though they became really close and spent hours to no end together, they still didn't know much about her. They were dying to know why and since when was she working for Sylus, but she always laughs at their questions saying that it's not important for them to know.

A couple of days ago they came out with a plan to spy on the two to try and gain information to satisfy their curiosity. However it was easier said than done. To be honest they saw those two together in the same room maybe two to three times? Just what kind of relationship did they have?! They needed to know.

They waited for days to finally put their plan into the reality, they waited for a perfect moment, observing those two like professional stalkers. The fact that both of their targets noticed their weird behavior was not really helpful, but none of them really paid them any mind, so who cares?

Eventually they got the perfect opportunity to 'strike'. They were going down the stairs, planning to go and chill in the mansion's main area while also waiting for their (ekhem ekhem crush) favorite girl to come see them, like she usually does. When they were on their way they suddenly heard voices, coming from the corridor leading to Sylus's office.

Looking at each other they instantly became quiet, moving a little closer to the wall. The voices were a little far away, since the corridor was pretty long, but luckily they weren't being exactly quiet.

"... what do you want to do about it? That guy is a scumbag and we both know it. I don't care about your business, if you won't take care of him: I will." they heard the voice of Y/n sounding harsh and annoyed, not leaving the ground to argue, something they never heard from her before.

"Sweetie I won't let you get yourself straight into their trap. You are not going there and that's the end of it." Sylus answered in his usual tone, clearly not impressed by the girl's intimidating speech.

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?" twins literally jumped up a bit at the scream, they never heard her raise her voice before "That motherfucker uses girls my age for his fucking business! I can tolerate many things Sylus. Fuck that! I literally killed people myself before, but he destroys them more and more everyday! If you will just sit on your ass and wait for him to finish his business with you, I'll deal with that bastard myself and never come back here again." twins looked at each other, clearly fearing that Sylus will just let her go and never come back.

"Y/n I promise you that bastard will get what he deserves, and I'll make him go through worse hell than you can even imagine. All I ask of you is to just give me a little more time." how was he still so calm?!

"... How much time do you need?" now sounding more calm than before, but still clearly mad, judging from the way her tone sounded cold and resentful.

"3 days."

"Alright, and not a second longer." her voice was quiet enough for the boys to have a problem with hearing it.

"Have I ever given you a reason to doubt me, sweetie?" Boss's voice still intact like always, not even a hint of anger at the girl's outburst from a moment ago. Who was she to him?! How could she talk to him like that and not face any consequences?!

"No. And I never will doubt you. But you know why it's so important to me." her voice gets more quiet with each word.

After that they didn't hear any more words from the two people behind the wall.

'What is happening?'

'I don't know! Maybe we should peek?'

They were considering the idea for some seconds, before finally giving in to their curiosity once more. The sight before their eyes got them dumbfounded.

They saw Sylus holding the girl in his arms and looking at her concerned. She seemed to be in a bad shape, holding onto him weakly while visibly going limp in his hug. Both of the twins stared at the scene, not even caring anymore about getting to the truth about the relationship between the two, they were afraid for the girl they grew affectionate towards, she never looked this weak and vulnerable when spending time with them, what happened to her?

"... Dad..." they heard her pained whisper and saw her going completely limp in Sylus arms. Their Boss's face immediately changed into an even deeper concern.

Suddenly they saw Sylus's eyes glance towards them. They stood there numb, not even having the strength to try and hide or pretend like they were just passing by after the events that just took, and were still taking, place.

Their Boss didn't even pay them any mind, much more worried about the girl than those two seeing anything. He snooped her into his arms, princess carrying her into his office, and closing the door behind him with his evol.

Twins still stood in one place, worried sick and clueless as to what was currently happening to their favorite girl.

"Boss looked worried as much as we are, do you think it's something serious?" Luke's voice first to break the silence.

"I don't know, I wish we could just go into that office, but he'll probably have our heads for this." Kieran sat down on the floor, his back leaning onto the wall.

Luke followed his brother, sliding down the wall, looking deafened.

No more words exchanged between the two. Both their minds occupied by the person currently impossible to reach. Going into that office would be a suicidal, but staying outside of it was killing them too.

Were they actually that attached to her already..?

~★~

Hours passed, twins stayed close to their Boss's office, waiting for either the man or the girl to walk out, so that they could ask if she's okay. Eventually they settled on the couch in one of the living rooms, one which was the closest to the office, leaving the door open to make sure that they won't miss any sound coming from the corridor.

Eventually they waited for about 10 hours already, not planning to move until they will hear the news about their soulmate's (as they started calling her not that long ago, after pulling a success prank on Sylus together) well-being. Eventually they fell asleep on the couch out of exhaustion and stress.

Meanwhile inside of the Sylus's office someone finally woke up.

"Finally back to the world of living, sweetie?" Sylus looked up from the papers sprayed on his desk to look at the girl moving on his couch.

"How long was I out?" sitting up, her hands went towards her head, her eyes closed.

"Couple of hours, there's water on the table before you." his eyes came back to the papers.

The girl slowly reached her hand towards the glass with water, luckily Sylus didn't fill it up to the top or else she would spill it because of her hand shaking. She put the glass to her mouth, drinking without any rush.

"I told you many times not to use your evol like this." standing up from behind his desk he made his way towards the teenager "You know that glitching in between the worlds can be extremely dangerous for you, yet you still took the risk for no valid reason."

"I can't just sit back and watch him hurt them, I had to do something, you're taking too long." her eyes shoot up towards the man, sending him sharp glare.

"I have my reasons for stalling. Why can't you just trust me with this?"

"Because I see myself in those girls!" her raised voice shocked even him this time "Every time I see his nasty dreams I'm reminded about those assholes who made me watch myself in that situation. He will hurt them Sylus, every day of you waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike is another little girl's childhood taken away!" her voice breaking, shacking of her body and tears in her eyes made Sylus feel too many things that he would have wish not to acknowledge.

He never wanted to get attached to that girl, he was fine on his own, but every day with her following him around like a shadow made him so used to her presence that he couldn't imagine something or someone taking her away from him right now. He hated himself for having a weak spot.

"Sweetie I promise you that no harm will come to those girls, I have Mephisto watching them all the time, they are scared yes, but no one touches them I promise. They will be safe in 3 days, give me that much time, please." he crouched down next to her, holding one of her hands in his and making her look at him, the eye contact being able to keep her grounded. He knew that she could lose her grip on the reality if he didn't act the right way.

The memories started flowing back to him at once. The trauma this girl had to go through making him want to kill anyone who dared to even think about harming her. Taking a child to become an experiment is a cruelty that even he, being the 'worst' person in the N109 Zone, wouldn't dare to commit.

He remembered that one night from two years ago. He was walking towards the room in his mansion that he was sure had the book he needed for his research. It was the room hidden deep inside of the right wing, when he finally got to it and opened the door he saw that young girl sitting on the floor with her legs under her, the room was cold and she didn't wear enough clothes to feel warm, but she didn't seem effected by the cold, she was just sitting there and looking at the moon behind the window.

"What are you doing here?" she didn't even react to his voice, didn't look at him, didn't let out any sound like she did most of the time, signaling to him that she listened.

He slowly walked towards her, crouched down beside her, looking at her and then at the sky of the N109 Zone.

They spent a couple of minutes in complete silence, staring as the clouds move slowly with time.

"Why do people need to know and understand everything?" her quiet voice brought his attention to her again, his head turning towards her direction, her eyes already focused on him.

"Because they are afraid of the unknown." his tone was soft, he warmed up to the girl over the time he spent with her, even if he didn't want to admit it.

The girl just recently turned 14. He got some informations about her from the database of EVER studies and the rest he knew just by simply asking her, she was surprisingly truthful all the time, not hiding anything from him.

"Can I show you something?" her eyes still locked on his, their eye contact making him feel like he talked to his equal and not just some teenage girl that he randomly stumbled across.

"Of course." was his only response. Her hands made their way towards his face, slowly covering his eyes. He didn't protest, she didn't have any reason to hurt him, and it's not like she would succeed in it anyways.

The darkness he saw with his eyes covered suddenly started changing into shapes and colors. He saw a little girl together with her at least three people, much bigger than her, adults, in white coats. One was holding her down, making her sit down on the chair, while the other two stood before her with their notepads, talking to her, but their voices came out like a combination of random syllables.

Their faces were all blurry, he couldn't recognize any face other than the one of the little girl. Her eyes were full of fear, shining from the tears she was clearly holding back. No words left her, she didn't try to scream or fight the person holding her, she just silently sat there.

Suddenly he saw one of the people with notepads taking something out of their pocket, a syringe, and walking with it towards the little girl. Her eyes locked on the white wall before her, her gaze looking absent, like mentally she wasn't there.

Right after they injected whatever it was into her arm her head fell down, strength leaving her body, her eyes clenching shut and one single tear falling down her cheek before the image got completely blurred and the room changed. What he saw next made his blood boil.

The same little girl standing there, before a man with literally no face and another version of herself, she was watching as the man spoke to her other version and started touching her arms.

Not wanting to know what happened next Sylus took the hands of the girl away from his eyes and took a moment to let his gaze come back to reality. His eyes turned to the teenager, a silent question in his gaze.

"They made me watch someone's dreams. I don't know how, but whatever they injected into me activated my evol, fighting it was painful." he swallowed his split in a try to control his anger, his jaw clenching "I tried to stop him, but when I touched him I felt pain like nothing I've ever felt. I shut my eyes close while laying on the floor but had to hear all the things he spoke to my other version. After it was all done and I woke up I heard someone speak about the 'emotional reactions influencing the power of the evol' but then I blacked out again. It was the day that I knew I had to run away, before they would get to test that in a reality." her eyes were glossy and a single tear ran down just like in the memory he saw a moment ago.

His thumb went up to her face to wipe it off, she let him without as much as a flinch. No more words were exchanged between them. He moved to sit down fully on the floor and her head instantly fell to his shoulder. They sat there for a while, being the comfort the other needed in this cruel world. He heard her breathing slowing down, probably falling asleep, he let her.

"I promise that no one else will hurt you."

"Promise me." her quiet voice brought him back to reality. Looking at her now he didn't see the fearless and mischievous teenager she became. He saw that little girl from the past, crying herself to sleep in a lonely room, holding herself to feel any kind of warm.

She didn't need to say anything else, he already understood.

"I promise." that no one will touch them.

A lonely tear fell from her eye with a blink, making it's way down her face like a raindrop falling on the window during a storm. His memory came back for a second before leaving again. He reached out, his palm gently taking a hold of her face, his thumb catching the single proof of her sadness. For a moment her eyes closed, enjoying the warmth of another human being after knowing only coldness her entire life.

Suddenly the sound of a pained cry left her and before Sylus could react she threw her arms around him and her mouth let out a song of cries and pain she was hiding inside for too long.

He gently reciprocated her hug, one of his hands taking it's place on her head, slowly stroking it in a calming motion, letting her drown her sorrows into his shoulder, hiding her from the brutality of the world.

He wished that he found her sooner and gave her the life she deserved to have from the start, without anyone taking away her innocence. She became his guiding star, always being there to remind him that life is not just an endless cycle of pain and evil. He didn't know why she followed him that day, but he was thankful for it nonetheless.

The next couple of minutes were spent with him shielding her from reality. They didn't know exactly how much time had passed, maybe ten minutes, maybe half an hour, maybe more. It didn't matter.

In his fatherly-like embrace she finally found the safety she was looking for her entire life. She was forced to fight for herself for so long, stealing and sleeping in abandoned buildings was her every day life ever since she run away from the place of her torture. That was, until she met him, her visions encouraging her to take the risk and trust him, and she did. She didn't regret it even for once ever since.

"I'm sorry..." her voice, quiet and weak, reached his ears. Her cries calmed down a while ago, but they still didn't let go of each other.

"You have no reason to apologize for feeling." his tone calm, with foreign gentleness to it. She was his little girl, the very one that he swore to protect. She was his remainder that he wasn't an emotionless monster, she made him feel human.

After a couple more minutes they finally pulled themselves away, her face red from crying, his expression still showing concern. The reason behind her outburst of emotions forgotten behind, her trust in his words enough to calm her down.

Sylus finally stood up from the floor and sat down next to her on the couch. Her head falling onto his shoulder, her head trying to organize her thoughts and leave the depressive episodes behind. His voice interrupts her tornado of thoughts.

"You've grown close to them." she let out a sound of curiosity, her head turning to look at him, but his eyes were focused on something before him "The twins." there was a moment of silence after that statement, her head coming back to rest on his shoulder once again and her eyes focusing on the painting on the wall before her.

"I did." left her mouth, he didn't react in any way, but she knew he heard her. There was no point in avoiding the truth, he already knew about it, he just wanted to hear her say it.

"It's foolish." she let out a quiet humorless laugh, she knew.

"So was following you like a stray cat on the street looking for a shelter, but look at us now." she smiled, her gaze returning to his side-profile. A sound like a second long laugh left his mouth, she had a point.

"I hope that you know what you're doing." they smiled at each other and laughed "But still if they will hurt you in any way, I will make them pay." the sudden serious expression on him took her aback.

"Oh you are really like my father!" she laughed again and hit him playfully in the shoulder, he simply smiled at her once again, his eyes hiding the warm inside reserved only for the person before him. He would let the world burn for this girl.

~★~

Half an hour later from the depths of Sylus' office finally walked out the center of twins worries. However Luke and Kieran didn't even flinch at the sound of someone's footsteps, deep in their dreams.

The girl appeared in the doorway, with a playful smile on her lips when she saw them. For a moment she thought about pulling up a prank on them, but decided against it. They were probably waiting for her, she knew that they saw her fainting earlier, they were probably worried as hell, so today they earned their free pass for a peaceful sleep.

A spark showed itself in her eyes. They were dreaming, she could feel it. People who were close to her got them more often than a regular person, side effect of her evol.

She got lost in her head for a minute. Was it safe for her to use her evol when a couple of hours ago it had a malfunction? Well if she'll do it correctly then probably it will be fine.

Slowly, making sure to stay as quiet as a cat, she made her way towards the couch occupied by the duo. Standing one step before them she took a good look at them.

Luke slept on his stomach with one of his hands dangling from the couch almost touching the carpet, while the other one found it's place under his head, they still had their masks on, but they got a little misplaced, showing more skin that they are supposed to, his feet placed up on the armrest of the couch.

Then there was Kieran, who fell asleep asleep on his back with his legs thrown over the armrest from the other side of the couch. One of his hands sneaked it's way to the backrest (was it even comfortable?) while the second was lying on his tummy. The hood slipped from his head, showing off his dark raven hair.

Their heads were lying close to each other, leaving some space in between them.

She let out a quiet giggle, they were adorable. Slowly, as to not disturb them, she sat down in the free space and gently touched both of their foreheads, her eyes lighting up, full on glowing this time, when her evol started to work.

Before her eyes flooded the picture of their dream. One dream for both of them? Were they connected to each other that much?

The picture becomes much more clear with every second until she is finally able to see and hear them perfectly well.

They sat on the rooftop, instead of their usual uniforms they wore all black clothes. Their dark middle length hair perfectly visible even in the darkness of the night.

"Do you think we'll make it?" she heard Kieran's voice. It didn't carry the mischievous hint to it which made her concerned about the specifics of that dream.

"Who cares? What matters is that we are finally free and playing by our rules." Luke's voice, even tho playful, still sounded more serious than normal "If we go down, then at least we'll do it together."

"I guess you're right." the younger of the twins let out a breath and looked up to the sky.

In the meantime, the person spying on their dream started to fall asleep herself. She didn't even notice how the dream started to feel more real with every second, it all came to her so naturally, as if she was meant to be there.

She started to feel the cold wind on her face, it started to play with her hair and the fabric of her clothes. She looked at the twins, who stayed clueless to her presence in their dream. Did they even know it was a dream? She couldn't tell.

However in the real world the twins sleeping forms feeling the closeness of her body started to slowly move towards her. Kieran's head found it's place on the girl's tights treating it like the softest of all pillows, while his brother's hand that wasn't busy under his head hugged the girl's legs.

The girl herself, now joining them in their nap, rested her hands on Kieran's chest and Luke's head, the closeness coming to them naturally.

Her silhouette in the dream started getting closer to the boys, who were still sitting on the edge of the rooftop with their backs facing her.

"You will make it." her soft voice breaking through the sounds of the wind in their ears, both sets of eye glancing towards her, shocked but somehow not at all surprised that she's there "I'll help you." she crouched down to be on their eye level and looked at both of their faces taking in the details.

Kieran lacked his scars, his face being a perfect mirror to Luke's, but she could still tell who was who. Older of the twins had this mischievous sparkle in his eyes all the time, while his twin's eyes looked softer and less playful, but still could match his brother's mischievousness most of the time.

They looked at her as if they were bewitched. It seemed that the memories from the precious events in the awakened world flooded back to their minds.

"You're okay!" both of them screamed, their eyes wide open in shock, they moved fast, not even registering the moment when they pulled her into a bone-crushing hug.

The girl just laughed at their antics and threw her hands around them, accepting the affection.

"Someone was worried about me?" she whispered right under their ears. Her head resting on Luke's shoulder, but turned Kieran's way, her nose touching his neck.

None of them answered, they just hugged her tighter. Her legs resting on Kieran's now, her body leaning on Luke's.

They finally found their peace. Their embraces stayed unbroken for the rest of the dream.

Meanwhile...

Sylus finally left his office, in between the incident earlier and his work he didn't have time to eat anything, and now, finally deciding to make his way to the kitchen, he noticed an open door.

Well that was unusual, all the doors always stay closed. It was a sort of unspoken rule in his mansion at this point.

He peeked inside with the intention of closing it, but the sight inside of the room made him stop in his tracks.

His precious little girl was sleeping on the couch with the twins cuddled up to her.

His breathing stopped for a second, anger in his eyes perfectly visible.

Yes, he knew that they were close. Yes, he noticed how they tried to get physically close to her at any chance given. And yes - he knew that she had grown rather... Fond of them.

But still he couldn't say that he was pleased at the fact that they seem even closer now than the last time he saw them together.

To be honest he didn't even consider the idea of her growing up and... Getting a... Boyfriend? Especially somehow getting two?!

He needed a glass of whiskey. Preferably a whole bottle.

His hand found it's way to his forehead, his eyes clenching shut, he shouldn't care as much as he did. Shaking his head he finally got a hold of the door handle, glancing at them for the last time before finally closing the door.

~★~★~★~

2047, Middle of Summer.

Over those last months not much has happened, N109 Zone still rotten with crime, however the mysterious leader of Onychinus didn't show himself for some time now, rumors were spreading like diseases, but which one was right? No one knew. People used his absence to their advantages in various ways, almost forgetting about his existence.

Still, some people lucky (or not) to be working close to him were having the laugh of their lifes watching those rats try to reach the top. They let them have their moments of power, knowing that when the time comes, they will take it all back

In the quietness of Sylus's mansion three teenagers found themselves hidden from the rest of the world and having taken a break from their work, decided to have some movie night.

The coffee table in one of the living rooms with the biggest TV screen was full of snacks including popcorn, cookies, gummy bears, various drinks and some other things (basically anything they could find in the kitchen). Blankets and pillows were waiting for them to get comfy, some splashed around the floor too. While the twins were getting the last of the snacks (coming back with some chips and sodas while also carrying bags of sweets in their mouths) their favorite girl was picking up a cartoon to watch.

Twins didn't wear their uniforms, masks lying forgotten in what was now known as their official room. After those couple of months working for Sylus about two weeks ago he finally decided that it's easier to just have them there all the time (totally not because **someone** was pleading him to let them live there), together with the new place to live they also got some money to go and buy themselves stuff like new clothes.

Let's also add that the girl herself took them shopping, not trusting their fashion skills... But at least they got some fun-bonding time outside of the N109 Zone.

All three of them were wearing sweatpants and some random t-shirts, putting the last of the snacks into the free bowls, the twins sat down on the couch on each side of the girl. Taking blankets and pillows to put them where they seem fit. Kieran finally looked at the screen noticing the title of the movie Y/n choose.

"How To Train Your Dragon?" he read out loud, getting the attention of his brother.

"Never watched it."

Girl's eyes widen. She looked at the twins in pure shock.

"HOW?!" both boys looked at her and just stared at her not knowing what was so shocking "That movie is a classic!" she added, her expression still looking as if they have just told her that they are of royal blood or something.

"To be honest we never really had a TV growing up, the first time we watched something was like two months ago." Kieran explained, reaching for a bowl of popcorn to put it on his lap. The girl stayed quiet for a minute before her expression changed into one of understanding.

Not saying anything else she reached out to grab her favorite snack and finally started the movie.

All three sets of eyes focused on the screen, sometimes their attention leaving the TV to grab a snack or drink. The first movie went smoothly, with some random conversations here and there of course.

"That guy is a loser." Luke said with a mouth full of popcorn.

"Shut up!" Y/n thrown some popcorn at him which he didn't have time to dodge, but he managed to catch one in his mouth and shot up from his seat to high-five Kieran "Kids." the girl rolled her eyes, her eyes going to focus on the screen again.

Luke slowly slid from the couch onto the carpet below them, continuing to watch from there.

"I like those twins." Kieran said, his eyes not moving from the screen, the rest of the party just let out sounds of agreement.

"I swear that I can feel the awkwardness between him and the dragon from the screen."

"Real." Y/n and Kieran looked at each other, it was the first time they said something at the same time.

Unbothered Luke reached out for his glass to refill it with some soda.

"Wait, I'll get some ice." standing up, Y/n took two glasses and head to the shelves, boys eyes followed her instantly not saying a word.

She opened a cabinet and inside of it... Was a little freezer? What was it doing there?!

Twins stared in awe, the girl as if sensing their stares laughed a bit and without turning her head back to look at them answered their silent question:

"I like to have ice-cream nearby when watching sad movies, okay?" Luke and Kieran looked at each other and smiled for no reason, no words left them and their attention came back to the movie.

Soon enough she came back to them, giving one glass to Luke and keeping the other to herself.

"You forgot about someone?" Luke said grinning.

"I noticed that Kieran never gets ice for himself. Am I wrong?" she started pouring her drink unbothered, twins looked at each other as if communicating with their eyes, they were shocked.

Eventually they just silently returned to watching the movie

"Aww he's in love." Kieran's tone carried some kind of sarcasm to it.

"Imagine hitting on a girl with a dragon." his brother added with a laugh.

In a split of second both of them let out a sound of pain, she hit their heads.

"What was that for?" Luke asked, his head turning to send a glare at the girl.

The girl just rolled her eyes and shrugged.

"WHY CAN'T THEY LISTEN TO HIM?!" boys threw their hands up in anger, screaming at the movie.

"Cause some people are really dumb and close-minded." she said, with no emotion to her voice, Kieran joined his brother on the carpet, his back resting on the girl's legs, he reached for something on the table, his hair falling onto his eyes.

Before he had the chance to get them off he felt hands from behind gently gathering his hair and putting them in a small ponytail on the base of his neck. After it was done he felt a soft pat on his head. He peeked over his shoulder, the girl sent him a smile which he returned.

"Oh okay. Am I disturbing you two maybe? Should I leave you to your moment?" Luke's annoyed voice made them break their eye contact and look at him. His expression not hiding his irritation.

"What? You jealous?" left Kieran's mouth, which earned him a punch on the chest from his brother, making him fall completely on the floor, Luke followed him down starting a fight, which was obviously for fun.

The girl laughed at their antics. It's been going on for about a minute now, her laughter got louder while the boys continued their play-fight for her entertainment.

Suddenly when Kieran tried to overthrow Luke from himself his action pulled a blanket from the couch, making the girl fall with a panicked squeak.

Both boys instantly tried to catch her, which let them all to fall on the floor, her body landing on top of theirs, twins froze for a moment, everything went silent. They were ready to start apologizing when suddenly they heard her laughter and felt her shake.

A moment later Luke joined her with a giggle of his own, and soon enough Kieran couldn't help himself and did the same thing. All three of them were lying on the floor unable to control their breathing because of the laughter.

It took them solid five minutes to calm down, but instead of going back to sit on the couch they stayed on the carpet.

"Come here." she instructed Luke who wordlessly, but with a happy grin, followed her command, seating himself before her and taking some snacks from the table.

Her hands went to his hair, scooping them up in her hand and tying them up in the matching ponytail to Kieran's, using her extra hair tie. Right after she was done she moved towards the younger of brothers, gesturing him to turn around which he did, letting her fix his hairstyle who got messy after the play fight with his brother.

The next hour went peacefully, they started the second movie from the series. Twins kept asking questions and commenting on the plot and characters, not keeping their opinions to themselves and making Y/n laugh at their behavior.

During the watching all three of them snuggled up together, sitting shoulder to shoulder under a huge fluffy blanket.

When the third movie started playing the atmosphere in the room changed a bit. The boys seemed somehow more relaxed, Kieran's head fell to Y/n shoulder while Luke started to play with her hand, moving her fingers for his own fun.

"OMG HE'S IN LOVE!" Luke screamed, squeezing the girl's hand in both of his.

"Oh she's got the attitude." Kieran added after seeing the white dragon shoot flames at them.

"Don't they all..." the girl looked at the older of the twins with a silent dare in her eyes "I'll shut up!" breaking the intense eye contact to focus back on the movie he couldn't catch the playful hint in the girl's eyes that showed itself right after his words.

She sent a knowing look to Kieran, who simply smirked at her. Her free hand reached for his and a smile graced her lips, her forehead meeting his for a moment with a short giggle leaving her.

"Never thought I would be jealous of my own twin brother." they heard a huff from behind them but instead of turning their heads they just laughed and the girl threw her hands around Kieran to mess with his brother even more "Okay, now you're doing it on purpose!" was the only thing they heard before a set of hands caught her waist and pulled her towards the other boy.

Her back resting against him, still shaking with laughter, she couldn't see the 'intimidating' stare Luke sent to his brother, which only affected in Kieran's louder laughter.

Soon enough they calmed down, going back to watching the movie. Luke held her in his arms and didn't let go so she just got comfy against him, not caring one bit, Kieran also didn't look like it bothered him.

"That guy is such a loser, will he actually pull her?" escaped Luke's mouth after seeing Toothless little dance to impress his crush. He felt popcorn getting forced into his mouth to shut him up, which he accepted without a fuss.

"He's doing his best, if a guy would try so hard to impress me I would be delighted." was the answer he got in response.

"So you want a loser for a boyfriend? Your 'dad' would eat him alive." Kieran grinned and turned to look at her.

"Oh please my 'dad' wouldn't dare to hurt someone just because they like me." she said, but after a second added a quiet "I think..." and her gaze turned out to be a little uncertain.

"Well, one thing I know for sure: getting onto the Boss' black list to date you is worth it." she heard Luke whisper into her ear, hugging her a little tighter. She let out a quiet laugh but nothing else escaped her mouth.

About twenty minutes later the girl left the embrace to stretch her back and take something to drink from the table.

Silence followed, the most heartbreaking moment of the movie started playing soon after, the twins watched in anticipation, but right when they saw dragons leaving for their Hidden World they suddenly heard a quiet sob.

Both of them turned towards the girl, who tried to keep tears from falling.

"What?! It's sad okay..." she said with a snark, wiping her eyes with her palms. Boys smiled slightly at her cuteness.

"Aww it's okay, you can cry as much as you want here." Kieran said, putting his hand on her shoulder, tugging her towards his body. Instantly she melted into him, hiding her face in his neck.

"You saw countless people die on the job. But some... Movie for little kids is the cause of your tears? Luke snarked a comment, not meaning to be rude in the slightness, but still earned himself a middle finger from the girl who had yet to pull herself away from his brother. With a quiet laugh his gaze turned back to the TV.

Second layer the girl peeked at Kieran's face, not leaving his embrace yet. His eyes turned to look at her, their eye contact felt weird. Not the bad kind but, for some reason, they seemed unable to pull away from each other. For a moment he thought that she activated her evol, but the shining in her eyes was simply from the tears hiding in them just a moment ago.

She examined his face, the scars left by Sylus perfectly visible. She touched his cheek, her thumb softly caressing his face, his scar. None of them thought about what they were doing, they didn't even seem to notice the fact that their faces were brought closer to each other.

That was, until their lips touched. No moving, no breathing, their hearts beating so fast that they could feel it in their heads. Their eyes closed, the gentle kiss lasted for a while, with no rush, eventually they pulled their lips away from each other, but their foreheads touched instead. Her palm didn't leave his face, staying there while both of them tried to calm their breathing and hearts down.

Suddenly she felt a gentle touch on the back of her head, her eyes opened and turned towards Luke, who looked at her with a playful spark hidden in his gaze.

"Is it mine turn now?" his whisper touched her ear like the most precious secret, his movement didn't hesitate, he turned her head gently towards him and made their lips touch. Her palm still lingered on Kieran's face who now looked at them, studying their actions.

Luke's kiss was more intense than the one of his twin, his lips moving slowly but eager against her, making her lose her breath again. The burning feelings inside of him finally coming to life. He broke the kiss after some time, pulling away while still keeping his hand on her head.

She felt Kieran's head come to rest against the side of her own. Her eyes gazed at Luke, who looked like he just won his life.

She felt safe, seen and heard.

A thought lingered in her mind:

Is this what love feels like?

She sent the older of the twins a slight smile of her own, nuzzling against Kieran once again, while also pulling Luke towards herself. He obeyed without a protest, his head falling onto her shoulder.

Meanwhile in the background the movie was coming to an end, a wedding and the reunion of two new families was not enough to keep them away from their own moment.

Everything seemed to fall into it's rightful place.

~★~★~★~

2048, Early Autumn.

A year went by... To say that Sylus was not really happy about the blossoming relationship between his little girl and his employees would be an understanding.

For a couple of first months he gave the twins more time-consuming tasks just because he saw them getting too close to her. He wasn't blind, he knew that they cared for each other and his precious daughter-like person was happy with them.

But in his eyes: no one would ever be enough for her.

When he saw them kissing her cheeks while making food in the kitchen he made them leave the base for two weeks under the pretext that they needed to keep a close eye on one of his business partners.

And to be honest they learned nothing from this 'lesson', still acting clingy whenever she was near, competing for her attention all the time.

Sylus was so over it, but he couldn't do anything, since his little girl wouldn't forgive him if something bad would happen to them by his own doing.

So he just suffered in silence, sending death stares to them any time they dared to stand too close to her for his liking.

Today they finally got the intel about the Aether Protocore, mission was set, the woman in possession of it will soon show herself, he was sure of it.

Meanwhile twins already left the mansion, they needed to get to the area faster and wait for a signal to act.

While him and Y/n still waited in the mansion, currently sitting in the dining room, a red orb found it's place in Sylus's palm, his hands playing with it like with a coin.

Inside of it bloomed red flower, stained with blood, yellow sky around it sent warm light in it's direction, but instead of basking in it, the flower looked sad, depressed and caged.

The glass orb around it appeared broken, as if someone stabbed something sharp into it. Countless small cracks showing themselves around the pierced place. It's a surprise that the glass didn't shattered completely.

"Get ready, we are leaving soon." hiding the object in his pocket, he stood up, not waiting for the girl to follow him, he knew that she would be exactly where he needed her anyways.

~★~

Watching someone get killed by Sylus' power was interesting every time. They always looked so pathetic and weak in the claws of his evol.

But this time instead of focusing on the poor guy hanging in the air she studied the woman kneeling on the ground. She kept a safe distance, not even able to hear what the twins were saying, but she could imagine their comments already.

Sylus arrived, Mephisto who until now was seated on the teenage girl shoulder cawed and flew to his owner.

Twins kneeled before Sylus who appeared before them now, keeping up their acts.

"Take out the vermin that're still running amok." the girl slowly walked out from her hiding spot, getting a little closer to the spectacle. The woman who found herself in their presence looked up at her confused, but didn't comment about anything.

She stopped a couple meters behind the twins.

"Yes, sir!" she heard them say and watched them stand up to head in her direction.

Without any hesitation she turned around and started walking away, her boys following behind, leaving Sylus with his new prey behind.

"Finally some fun for us!" Luke spoke with excitement, catching up to her and throwing his arm around her shoulder.

"Let's hope that the rats will at least try to fight back or run. I missed that thrill." Kieran said with a hint of mockery in his voice. The girl just smiled at their attics, she couldn't wait to see them in action once more.

~★~

"She won't be sleeping forever, right? She's been unconscious for one day. We need to wake her up." was the first thing the woman heard after waking up.

"Easy, just open up the back of her head. Drill a hole in her neck and..." her eyes darted open, her vision fozy.

"You two-" she sat up.

"You're seeing things. I'm the only one here. There is no 'two'".

"Then who's that?"

"My soul can leave... my body..." the man before her clearly tried to scare her.

"Stop it. She went through a lot, leave your jokes for later." her eyes turned to the other side of the room, a silhouette of a girl playing with a knife perfectly visible "Sorry for those kids." women caught eye contact.

The eyes of that girl were mesmerizing. Something deep hidden inside of them, for whatever reason, the woman at the mercy of the strangers felt safe now, she didn't know why, but there was a feeling inside of her screaming to trust her.

"Are you stunned? Shocked? Boooring." the voice of the man standing in the shadow of the room got her attention, her head snapping to look at him.

"Ahem... Hi, MC. Before you left Boss's parlor..." so they knew her name... "Well, we already met. Four days ago to be exact." four days... She was unconscious for that long?

"We didn't just save you from that ungrateful traitor. We also brought you back to Onychinus's base." the guy further away added.

"...So you want me to thank you." she looked clearly giving up that she was thinking about something. The memories of previous days coming back to her.

"We will give you some more time to come back to your... Right state of mind. Come find us when you'll feel ready to." the girl said, putting the knife to it's destinated place on her thigh and leaving, the boys following short behind, waving at the woman.

However she wasn't sure if she'll even feel ready to face the reality, but she didn't have much choice.

~★~

"We know what you're thinking." she looked at Luke (who's name she got to know some time ago, together with the name of his brother, but she still didn't know who was the girl that she met, she didn't see her since their last encounter) "But after being hunted down in The Nest, do you know how many people are out there looking for you?" he sounded so sure of the fact that they've done her a favour.

"And if you escape, you'll only get lost in the chaos of this no-man's land." added Kieran.

"Wanderers will eat you up. They also won't leave behind any crumps. So..." she could tell who was the more dramatic twin.

"Stay here with our boss!" they said together, looking at her with expectations clearly visible without their masks on.

"Throw away all morality and compassion, and this place will be a paradise!" she kept quiet at the Kieran's comment, knowing very well that N109 Zone is not a place for her.

"By the way, who's older? You two are basically identical twins." she decided to change the topic of their conversation.

"Take a guess." Luke said, clearly curious about something.

"Could you come closer so I can get a better look?" she tried to act genue. He fell for the bait, coming closer, she pulled a laser pointer and held it against his neck.

"Hey..! What are you doing?" his eyes widening in shock.

"Have you heard of the XT-7, the Hunters Association's latest weapon?" confused but happy about the fact that they didn't search her body, she decided to use it to her advantage "It's high-powered laser that can penetrate your skin and vaporise your blood. The good news is that it's quick and painless. The bad news is that you'll be losing a lot of blood from your neck. Are you squeamish?" Luke remained unmoving at her explanation.

Kieran fell silent for a moment, before pressing the door handle and moving aside. To her surprise, the door opened just like that.

"Why are you staring at me? Did I say you weren't allowed to leave?" he said with an obvious sarcasm to his voice.

She didn't answer. Standing up she kept the 'weapon' to Luke's neck, gesturing with her head to go with her out of this room.

When passing the door she looked at Kieran who didn't really seem bothered. He followed behind them to the corridor.

"Okay, just go straight down the hall and you'll see the exit." she let go of Luke, he rubbed his neck and headed over to his brother's side.

"Do you want it? Here." the woman said, noticing his curious eyes following the object. He reached out for it, surprised.

"Really? That's very nice of you to just give away a hunter's secret weapon." he said with excitement.

"It's a laser pointer." she stated casually, her eyes giving up the fun she had from this situation.

"You..." she smiled playfully at him noticing his slight anger at the fact he got played with.

"Did I ever say that it was the XT-7?" she turned around, leaving the boys behind with every taken step.

She heard them whisper behind her, but ignored them completely, she kept going forward.

She took in her surroundings, the dark corridor she was in not saying much about where she was. But she noticed that this place seemed rather abandoned.

She saw a black bird before her, sitting on a marble pillar. A crow? It's eyes looking like made out of rubies.

The bird turned his neck into the woman's direction. It was alive?! Suddenly he flew towards her, missing her head he landed on something... Or rather someone behind her.

Turning around she saw the mysterious girl she saw only two times here.

"It's you." MC's voice quiet. She looked as the girl lovingly stroked the crow's sharp feathers, it's head trying to snuggle up to her palm.

"Sorry for startling you. It was not my intention, I was merely passing by." her eyes left the crow to look at the woman before her "Are you leaving?"

"I... Kinda..." she tried to take the details of the girl before her, also trying to catch where she hid her weapons.

"Kinda?" her giggle broke her from the thoughts "So you don't know yourself what to do? I thought that you would have it all planned out by now." it was clear that she was relaxed, as if knowing that the woman won't try to harm her in any way.

"I'm still figuring out everything..." she hated the fact that her voice gave away her uncertainty.

"Take your time, there's no rush." the girl said calmly, her eyes coming back to the pet on her shoulder who now snuggled up to her neck "Oh also... Thanks for what you did with Luke, I heard the commotion from the other room and overhead a little of it, sometimes it's good to put them into their place." she laughed, the woman couldn't help but crack a smile.

"My pleasure." MC said, for whatever reason more relaxed now. She didn't know that girl at all, she made up her mind about the twins and their Boss, but her? It was a completely different story for some unknown, even to her, reason "Do you... work with them?"

"Work with them? Hm... I guess you could say that." their eyes meet for the last time, before the girl gestured for the crow to fly away, it disappeared behind a narrow gap in the opened door next to them. The girl turned around, going in the direction where MC left the twins.

"Hey! Wait up!" she screamed after her, but got no response, she planned to run after her but the melodious classical music from behind the door caught her attention, and before her eyes came back to the place where she saw the girl going, there was no one left in the corridor but herself.

~★~

Whispers and quiet laughter that the twins shared when entering the kitchen brought the attention of the girl drawing something in her sketchbook while sitting on the countertop from the other side of the room, boys not noticing her started their hunt for snacks, taking off their masks and still laughing about something.

"What are you two up to this time?" both of them jumped at the voice of their girlfriend. The shock in their eyes stayed there for a couple of seconds before they get themself together.

"Us?" Luke leaned against the countertop on his elbow.

"Up to something?" Kieran looked at her from behind his brother with a slight smirk.

"Nooo."

"Never."

"Baby you hurt us." the older of the twins theatrically put a hand over his heart and took a 'pained' expression.

"With those accusations." Kieran put his hand on his brother's shoulder as if to comfort him after such harsh words were thrown their way.

The girl looked at them, lifting her eyebrows and sending them the 'really?' disappointed glare.

"Are you gonna tell me? Or should I go and find out myself." her sketch long forgotten now as she left it on the counter while standing up from her previous sitting place and walking a couple steps towards her lover boys.

"Well if you really want to know..." Kieran went around his brother, closer to the girl while leaning down a little bit to stand on her eye level.

"We decided to make a good deed today." Luke said, the eyes of the girl sneaked a peek at him and came back to gaze into the eyes of the man standing right before her.

"And help Miss Hunter to fulfill her mission." the mischievous spark in Kieran's eyes wasn't missed by the attention of the girl looking at him like she could read his mind and feelings.

Her lips turned into a playful smile and a second later the sound of her laugh reached the ears of the men in the room with her, making both of them smile at her attics.

"You two are evil. Playing tricks on the poor girl." she said with no real disappointment behind her words. She knew that nothing would happen to that woman, Sylus wouldn't hurt her in any way. "Now, who wants some cookies." her arms went around Kieran's neck, giving him a kiss on the cheek, her eyes turning to his brother right behind him.

"Us!" both of them screamed with excitement. Luke ran up to them, stealing the girl from his twin's arms and holding her up started spinning with her in his arms.

The dark furniture of the kitchen didn't exactly match the child-like joy and laughter inside of the room, but it didn't make the moment any less cheerful and happy.

Wherever this trio found themselves in always felt cozy and full of joy. The demons of the past getting forgotten and instead the new found memories getting their place inside of their hearts, making their lives a little more bearable with each and every new one.

~★~

Staring at the brooch in her palms she froze for a minute. Finally, after so many fails that hurt her ego she was able to get it, it didn't matter that the only reason why it worked out was for the fact that Sylus decided to play her little game.

She was already sitting in the red dress, her hair wasn't put up yet, and some parts of her outfit like jewelry and gloves had yet to find themself on her. With a short exhale she put the brooch down onto the table before her.

Her eyes shut closed and her palms started massaging her scalp. Million thoughts were running through her mind. What if something were to go wrong? Is Sylus a danger to her? Will he leave her on her own if something goes not according to plan? Is there even a plan? Will he-

"You know, your thoughts are so loud for someone who came here with a strict goal in mind. Having second thoughts?" a female voice broke her out of her mind, in the mirror before her she met the eyes of the young girl whose name she still didn't know "You know - it's never too late to back out." the slight smirk adoring her face didn't miss the hunter's gaze.

"I won't back out. This all is just... A lot." her eyes fell from the girl back to her own reflection, picking up a brush she started taking care of her hair. However with the nerves from a couple of last days finally getting to her after staying closed inside of her for too long, even the simplest task seems too hard to focus on right now.

While trying and failing to catch her hair together once more she suddenly felt gentle hands caressing them and bringing them together. Looking up she saw the girl now standing right behind her. Did she fail to hear the footsteps coming closer to her?

"The auction will start soon, you won't get ready in time with your shaky hands." pulling MC' hair up, forming a ponytail she reached out her hand "A brush please." without any complaints MC put the item into her open palm, and a second later the girl came back to her task.

"Can I ask for your name?" the teenager made a sound, as if enjoying the knowledge that the information about her still wasn't known to the woman.

"Twins didn't expose it to you yet? Hah, so they can keep information to themselves if they want to." their eyes meet for a split second in the mirror before breaking the eye contact again.

"No, when I asked about you all that I got in response was them calling you their 'dreamy girl'." at this sentence the girl behind her laughed.

"It does sound like them, yeah." her expression turned into something soft, as if thinking about something that made her happy "My name is Y/n." once again she raised her gaze to look into the eyes of the woman. She put her hands onto her shoulder, the hairstyle she was working on was finally done.

MC tested her name on her mouth in a quiet whisper.

"What are we thinking." the younger girl took a hand mirror from the table, making it reflect the hairstyle from behind so that the woman could see it in the mirror. It was a simple but elegant bun with a couple strands of her hair lying free around the area of her face, making a makeshift bangs.

"It looks great, thank you." she sent a soft smile towards the girl which she reciprocated. She saw her reaching for something on the table again.

"Let me help you put it on." holding a necklace in her hands she got ready to clasp it around MC's neck.

The next couple of minutes were spent with shared laughter in between them and some small talk. The girl made sure not to share many things about herself, Sylus or the twins but somehow still found topics to talk about, like sharing some little facts about the people who will attend the same auction as her.

For the first time in the last couple of days, the hunter finally found herself relaxing, and her mind wasn't full of second thoughts and doubts.

~★~

Sylus calmly guides MC across the dance floor, swaying to the song's rhythm.

Blocking the prying shadows around them he tried to make the woman focus on him, but for a quick moment her eyes caught a glimpse of someone who brought her attention to themselves.

Continuing their dance she tried to look at the mysterious stranger behind Sylus's shoulder.

It was a woman, in a black perfectly fitting dress, corset tied tight on her body, with a lot of chains adoring her, from her neck down to her corset and gloves, working as her jewellery.

What made MC, and probably every person here, wonder, was the black veil which hid her hair and face from the curious eyes of the outlookers.

Her stance was elegant, not moving an inch from her spot she resembled a statue, meant to be adored from afar.

Suddenly Sylus spun her around, making her lose sight of her target, she looked at him with annoyance, not expecting any explanation, but a short chuckle left the man, before words started flowing from his mouth.

"So, kitten finally noticed another crow in the room with us? Took you long enough." her eyes widened at the realization, but Sylus didn't leave her any room for questions, and continued their dance, making her focus not to stumble on her feet.

~★~

The explosion left people panicking, the whole hall reduced to a rubble.

Wanderers appeared from left and right, but before MC had a chance to shoot, someone else already took care of them.

Looking around she noticed the figure in the black dress, which fabric now appeared shorter and more comfortable to move around in.

Young girl calmly moved towards them, her steps more graceful than her usual movements. The clicking of her high shoes echoes from the ground, following her steps, MC took a note in her mind to ask her for a walking session later on, it may come useful.

"Leave, you did your part, go to your lover boys sweetie." Sylus' commanding voice spoke, the hint of displeasure obvious at the words 'lover boys'.

The moment of realization struck MC like lightning - that's who they were! She dated the twins! It all made sense now, how could she not notice before?

The girl only let out a quiet laugh, and reached out her hand towards MC.

Opening up her palm she showed her the gun she was holding, uncertain but without much choice the woman picked it up.

"Good luck." with those words Y/n walked around them, heading towards the exit of the hall.

"She looks stunning." a whisper full of fascination left MC, followed by a sound of approval from Sylus' mouth.

Without more comments about the girl, their thoughts came back to the present time and the mission at their hands.

~★~

In the meantime...

"That explosion was mid at best." Luke's voice gave away his disappointment.

"Could be better, but Boss was probably worried about Miss Hunter getting scared or hurt." Kieran kicked the stone under his legs, bored, they were waiting for their girlfriend to come to them for an hour now.

"Where is sheee, I didn't see her all day!" Luke lay down on the stairs leading to the entrance of the abandoned building which localisation was about five to ten minutes away from the auction place.

Putting a hand on top of his heart he tried his best to appear as if dying.

"Hey, I didn't see her either, you're not the only one in emotional pain right now." Kieran scoffed at his brother's attics, crossing his arms.

Suddenly he felt a cold rush of air hitting his back. Before he had a chance to turn around someone's arms came to embrace him around the torso.

"Okay, not fair! I'm dying from longing here, and you decide to give attention to my brother first? The double betrayal!" not giving a single damn about his brother's screams in the background Kieran turned around and hugged the girl back, conscious about his mask.

He picked her up, making her feet linger a little above the ground, which succeeded in making her giggle.

"Okay but damn girl, that outfit? How could you not show it to us before going out!" hearing his brother point out her clothing choice, Kieran put her back down and his gaze explored her whole body before he straightened up.

"Damn how did we pull you?" his head dipped to the side, making him look like a bird observing it's prey.

"We somehow got the daughter of the most dangerous multimillionaire in the N109 Zone to ourselves, if not for the fact that our identities are supposed to stay secret, I would go to the rooftop of the highest building around here and scream it for everyone to hear." Luke finally stood up and walked closer to them.

"Getting onto the Boss's black list because of dating you was so worth it." Kieran high fived his brother, making the girl shake her head in disbelief.

"Can we go now? I want to have a photo session in the forest with that fit." she made a little spin to show off her dress.

"Oh so today we're playing photographers?" Kieran pointed out, trying not to let his excitement show.

"Got it Missy."

"You'll get the best photos you could dream of, princess." twins bowed their upper body jokingly, making the girl raise her chin high and take the most graceful pose she could think of.

"We wouldn't dare to disappoint you, your majesty." the girl finally broke the character of a serious rich woman and let out a laugh, at which both of the brothers grinned to themselves.

"Let's go, I want to make it home before the morning arrives." twins straighten up from their previous position and watch her walk away in the other direction they came from.

"Do you think that she will wear something similar at our wedding?" Luke heard his brother's voice in his head.

"Ple-ase; her wedding dress is gonna be so much more eye catching and gorgeous than this one." at this statement Kieran nodded his head in agreement.

"Our little fashion Queen." they looked at her bewitched, not even noticing the distance growing with every step she took.

"Are you coming or not? Someone needs to carry me once we get to the grass part. There's no way I'll ruin those sweet shoes." she broke them from their thoughts, and without turning back continued on her way.

Both of them gasped and exchanged glances, before breaking out into a run and trying to over scream the other one.

"It's gonna be me!"

~★~★~★~

2048, Late Autumn.

MC spends most of her time in Linkon but more often than not she finds herself in the luxurious mansion in the N109 Zone.

And more often than not; she isn't even going there to meet the white haired man who lives rent free in her mind (for various reasons) but to meet the three teenagers that she grow fond of.

Today she found herself in that mansion again, her and the troublemaker trio decided to make cookies, play kitty cards, and play Just Dance until midnight. Sylus was nowhere in sight, when asked about him, the 'kids' said that he won't be back until the next day, away for some business, not specifying anything more.

In the middle of the night they finally decided to end their activities and leave for their rooms, MC headed to one of the guest rooms that she stayed before, with a pajama borrowed from the younger girl.

Everything seemed peaceful, she was able to fall asleep fast, but the sleep itself wasn't as calm as her surroundings.

That vision again. Her staring at her own bloody palms, not being able to focus on anything else. Her hands felt as if not belonging to her, foreign and unfamiliar, the ringing in her ears made everything twice as dizzy and scary, her own heart beating so loud as if trying to break free, yearning for something outside of her own soul and body.

The tears leaving their eyes, meeting the red essence below her. Every breath she took felt like pain. She tried to raise her head, tried to see what was happening, what she had done, but the picture before her was blurry, something red and black blinked before her and then it was over.

Waking up with a heavy breath and all sweaty she shot up from her laying position, raised her hands and stared at them, they were shaking, her whole body was shaking, like in daze she continued to stare at them, trying to see any traces from the mortifying sight she saw in that dream.

It took her about ten minutes to pull herself together and stop shaking 'it was only a nightmare...' she thought, with her hands placed on her head she closed her eyes, gripping her hair tightly to make sure that this reality wasn't her mind's imagination.

Her eyes shoot open, taking in her surroundings, the dark room lit only by the red moon peeking through the window's curtains. Her throat felt more dried than ever, she let out a series of coughs but it only worsened it's condition.

For a moment her eyes fixed on the moon outside, and then with a sight she placed her feet on the cold floor, picking herself up from the bed, and making her way out of the suffocating room.

With slow and quiet steps she walked down the hallway, trying not to bump into things along the way, but when it happened she didn't even acknowledge the moment of pain.

Not even noticing when, she found herself in the kitchen, stopping in her tracks she harshly put her hands on the counter, trying to steady her breathing and not faint from the overwhelming she felt.

Her ears didn't pick up a sound, but her eyes gazed at the glass of water quietly placed before her. Slowly she moved her head to the side, through the darkness she was able to make out a silhouette of a woman.

Seemingly unbother by the state she just saw the hunter, young girl continued moving the pencil in her hand unrushed and steady. MC tried to look at the paper before her, but wasn't able to see any details of the sketch. Understanding that the girl wasn't going to speak or question anything the woman gaze returned to the glass before her.

Unsure, she picked it up, her grip weak even with two hands in use. Trying her best not to drop the glass she put it to her lips, the drinking proved to be a hard task at first, but slowly instead of the uncomfortable tightness in her throat she felt relief.

She didn't know whether the time was moving at the slow peace or rushing, both of them, her standing and the girl sitting at the high stool, stayed there in silence, the presence of the younger girl proving to be a much needed comfort right now.

"You know, dreams are a strange concept. Some are weird, some are scary, some are memories, some are sights sent to us by our own mind." hearing the soft voice of the teenager MC turned her head towards her, noticing her still focused on the drawing, but the strokes of the pencil now seemed more forceful and not gentle at all, as if trying to mess up her previous work "And then - there are the ones that leave us in a state when we don't know what's going on. It's... a weird feeling. Like you are lost there, with no way out, and then - when you wake up, you feel like this dream is *the reality*."

The girl's eyes finally left the sketch, meeting the curious eyes of the hunter. She saw a silent question there, silent pleading for explanation and answers. Ones that she couldn't get from her.

"But in the end, it's all in your head. You make your own truth there, you are the queen who rules there." her voice grew quieter with every word leaving her mouth. Her eyes shining like a fainting star in the sky. So beautiful and so fragile.

"It's hunting me. Why can't it go away." a whisper left the woman, her eyes closing, the cold empty glass brought to her forehead, as if trying to command herself to get a grip on herself.

"Maybe you still didn't understand what you're supposed to, from that vision. Maybe the answers you seek are hidden there." a hand touched MC's arm gently, calming her down together with the soothing voice "Go to sleep in the Sylus' room, he won't be mad, I promise that no more bad dreams will come to you tonight." after that she heard the chair moving and heard footsteps slowly heading towards the door.

"You don't just work for him, right?" the sound of movement stopped, for a moment she thought that the girl left, but finally she heard the voice from far behind her.

"No." a short answer. Not telling much about the situation between the two.

"Why?" the question leaving her mouth was so quiet that she didn't expect the girl to hear it. Yet, again after a moment of silence her voice broke through.

"He took me in. When I had nothing." the sadness in her voice was obvious, even without turning around the hunter could imagine the pained expression on her face "Without asking for anything in return he saved me, gracing me with everything I could only dream of having. You might see him as a cruel, ruthless man." her voice close to breaking "But he's not heartless. No matter how much of a monster he claims to be - he will never be one in my eyes. And I hope that with time, you'll acknowledge that too." with that she left, leaving more questions behind, but also comfort and hope.

She didn't want to acknowledge the fact that the Boss of Onychinus could be anything but cruel and horrible man, led only by his desire to rule and use people like pawns, making his way to the top through the corpses and blood. With a groan she opened her eyes, planning to go back to sleep.

Turning around something caught her attention. On the countertop lying was the sketchbook of the teenager, opened on the drawing she was working on a moment ago. Not able to resist her curiosity she took a peak inside.

What she saw made her pause with confusion.

A human heart with a gem stuck in it, around it - lines, looking like veins scattered everywhere. She noticed a note above it in the language she couldn't understand.

𝕾𝖎𝖆 𝕲𝖗𝖆'𝕶𝖚𝖑

For unknown reason her heartbeat speed increased, but not because of panic. She felt like something in her was missing, some piece of her gone. Her gaze fell to the bottom of the page.

𝕾𝖎𝖆 𝕯𝖗𝖆𝖚𝖘𝖍𝖚𝖒

Her eyes scanned every detail of the sketch, her heart throbbed inside of her, louder and louder.

She slammed the sketchbook closed. Her heart slowly calmed itself down. Leaving the cursed thing on the counter she left in a hurry, not wanting any more questions to linger in her mind.

That night she let herself find comfort under the sheets of the red eyed man's bed. Sleep came easy and no nightmare bothered her for the rest of her slumber.

She couldn't notice the glow of the orb sitting on the shelf, the red and gold strings running around inside of it, linking and breaking their bond every couple of seconds. Nor could she hear the pained voices whispering from inside of it.

𝓜𝔂 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽

𝓜𝔂 𝓓𝓻𝓪𝓰𝓸𝓷

~★~

If anyone would say that the dangerous leader of Onychinus and a Linkon City hunter would act like an old married couple running after their children in the huge mansion belonging to the man, people would probably laugh at the audacity of that person to spread lies.

But it was currently happening...

"Luke leave Mephisto!" Sylus's commanding voice didn't scare his subordinate like most of the time, currently having too much fun to think about the consequences.

"Kieran catch!" he threw the mechanical bird towards his brother, Mephi stretched his wings to lend in his hands, playing with them.

"This bird probably costs more than all of our lives combinated! Give it back!" MC screamed while running towards the younger of the twins.

"Sorry Miss Hunter! We need him more now." Kieran shot up in the direction of the stairs, but half way there he was stopped by the mist wrapping around his body "Oh c'mon, not fair man!" now he was flying in the air, the crow still in his palm letting out a loud caw.

"Give the bird back." Sylus came into the Kieran's line of vision, but the twins weren't ready to give up just yet.

"Dreamy! Our hopes are in you!" with one hand he threw the bird to his side, towards the girl who had a lot of fun watching the little game of tag.

"Why me?!" she screamed, but caught the crow anyways, bringing him close to her chest, as if in a hug. All eyes in the room watched her, not moving, the room growing so quiet that the ticking of the clock on the wall could be heard.

A couple of the next seconds were spent staring at each other, awaiting the next move.

Suddenly the girl rushed to her left, in the direction of the corridor door.

"No!" MC shouted, running after her, while Sylus left Kieran to drop on the floor and calmly walked in the direction where the two women disappeared.

Luke rushed to his brother, helping him up with a laugh.

"Do you think she'll get it?"

"Of course. She runs fast, and Boss would never hurt his 'little girl'. It's all between her and Miss Hunter now." Kieran answered his brother with a groan, massaging his back that got hurt when he fell down.

Luke pulled his brother by his elbow, going in the direction of the corridor, which succeeded in more sounds of pain and complaints from his brother's mouth.

They walked for what seemed like eternity, until finally hearing the voices coming from one of the rooms. Both of them rushed there, as a result getting stuck in the door frame together for a second.

"I won!" the laugh that they both grew to love caught their attention, after which they heard a disappointed sound coming from the other woman in the room, and Sylus's short chuckle.

"You did it babe!" Luke ran to the girl, catching her in his arms, the crow still in her hold let out a caw, clearly annoyed at the boy's behavior, just like his owner who watched the show from the distance.

"We knew you'll get it!" from behind her came Kieran, both of them picking her up in a victory celebration, putting her onto their shoulder. The crow flew up to her shoulder, sitting there calmly.

Their joy was however short lived, because soon after their affection display a red mist caught the girl, gently bringing her back on the floor, while also pushing the twins away from her.

Mephi flew towards his owner now, whose expression didn't show the annoyance he felt inside. The teenage girl looked at him, raising her eyebrows at which he only shrugged acting like he didn't do anything.

"Okay you won, what is your wish then." MC's voice caught the attention of everyone, remembering what this game was about all along.

"I want... A self-care evening with face masks, various of not very healthy snacks, watching movies about sad love stories with a happy ending and online shopping with Sylus's card." the girl jumped up a bit and clapped her hands.

"... Okay I have no objections." the woman raised her hands in surrender and slowly walked up to the girl catching her hands and starting to jump with her in excitement.

"I call dibs on the dino mask!" Luke raised his hand high up, getting himself up from the floor he previously landed on, and ran out of the room, probably to get the stuff ready.

"Hey, no fair! You had that one last time asshole!" Kieran ran after him.

Sylus let out a sigh, his palm on his forehead in disbelief.

"Shopping!" the girls called in sync, before rushing in the direction of the door to catch up to the twins.

"What did I get myself into..." Mephisto cawed as if to mock the man "I know, I know, you don't have to remind me." white haired man turned his head towards the bird sending him a glare, and made his way towards the direction where he knew the chaos started to grow.

The evening went by fast, talks about any and everything, giggles, face masks and other beauty care products (even Mephisto wasn't spared, and sat there stuck with a small sheet mask made by twins), a lot of funny selfies, crying at the sad moments in the movies, at which twins hugged each other, girls each other, and Sylus and Mephisto only sent each other looks asking for help.

Eventually after a couple hours they finally began to feel exhausted. Slowly falling asleep one by one, leaving only Sylus awake.

He didn't really pay attention to them, focusing on the cheap movie on the screen, waiting for it to be over, when suddenly he felt a light weight on his arm, looking down on the place beside him he noticed MC asleep with her head dropping on his shoulder, her body so familiar and so strange beside him. The warm-cozy feeling inside of his chest was accompanied by the loud beating of his heart, his gaze softened and a soft smile graced his lips, an unusual sight.

Then he raised his eyes and looked at the other end of the huge couch, occupied by the three troublemakers. For a moment a grimace showed itself on his face, not really pleased with the sight, but the more he looked the more it disappeared.

His precious little girl was lying between the two boys, curled up with her legs close to her body. Her arms were thrown over Luke's shoulders and neck, her body leaning his way, with his head resting on top of hers, while Kieran hugged her body from behind, his arms around her waist, and his head snuggled to her shoulder.

Okay maybe... They weren't that bad. They took care of her, made her laugh, and protected her. Okay, yeah, no. No one was good enough for her. But at least they tried, and actually acted like they... Loved her.

He let out a quiet sigh, not wanting to overthink that. For as long as she's happy...

With that thought he let himself close his eyes, waiting for the sleep to take him. Unknown to any of them, Mephisto's eyes lighten up, taking a photo. The five of them in the most vulnerable state known to exist. Like a family enjoying their time together. Mephi flew up to rest on the couch backrest joining them in the moment.

Somehow all of the hearts in this room found the person they were looking for, and they weren't planning to let go of them, not now, not ever.

#luke and kieran x reader #luke x reader #kieran x reader #luke and kieran #luke & kieran #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #lads #l&ds #lnds #luke love and deepspace #kieran love and deepspace #sylus x mc #sylus love and deepspace

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novalpha · 2 years ago

Text

𝘝𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝐹𝑖𝑐 𝑅𝑒𝑐𝑠

♡ Fluff || ୨୧ Angst || ★ Smut || ꗃ SMAU || ⌗ Series || ✿ Drabble || ♤ Mature (No smut) || ✹ Humor

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Buy A Boyfriend ♡★⌗ -> @sluttywoozi Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4

Summary: Being a professional boyfriend on SVTHub is great - all Vernon has to do is respond to a few texts, send out a couple selfies, do a stream every now and then, and he makes enough to cover tuition. Things get a little tricky when he finds himself wishing he actually was your boyfriend.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ By hook or by cross ♡୨୧★ -> @kabira

summary — so you punched a guy, and now he wants you to teach him how to fight, because clearly, you know how to do it better. well, fine, you say. as long as he keeps his distance. (spoiler alert: he doesn’t.)

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ divorce child ♡★ -> @lovelyhan

summary: you like to think that your most recent breakup with vernon ended on relatively good terms. there’s only one issue left to sort out: who’s getting custody of the cat you got together?

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Cold hands, Warm hearts ♡ -> @duhnova

synopsis: this holiday season, your daughter decided the best present she could give to you was a new boyfriend, which is why she and her best friend yujin have taken it upon themselves to play matchmaker. their candidate? yujin’s father.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Operation : Hot girl summer ♡✹★ -> @shuaflix

SUMMARY ▸ the summer you started putting more effort into your appearance also happens to be the summer where vernon chwe's piercing gaze leaves you feeling like you're floating high up in the clouds.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Not a virgin ♡✹★ -> @ncteez

Vernon, a friend of your friend spills his spicy sex life and accidentally reveals to an entire group of near-strangers (including you) that he’s had sex one and a half times and that it was sick.

or the one where despite vernon not being a virgin, he is somehow more of a virgin than an actual virgin.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ High and fucked ★ -> @rubyreduji

summary: hansol is nothing to you but your ex-boyfriend's roommate, but you still find yourself alone with him while you get high together

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Risk it all ★ -> @sluttywoozi

Summary: Vernon's got a crush on his tutor, and everything gets harder when you start wearing thigh high socks. Everything.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ The soulmate service ♡✹୨୧ -> @dkfile

the soulmate service has one purpose: to help those who drew the short end of the stick and ended up without a person to live their forever with. after the heart wrenching realization that the boy you’ve loved since you were thirteen isn’t the one meant for you, you put your love life in the hands of vernon chwe — which, now that you think about it, is probably a very bad idea.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Work husband ♡✹ -> @wondernus

synopsis: falling for the young and flirty high school history teacher is inevitable especially when he pays for your groceries and calls himself your work husband

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Trillium ♡★ -> @beahae

Summary: Vernon is flying in to see his girlfriend. Oh shit, that’s… you. Being away from him for the past few months ago makes it hard for it to feel real, especially after two years of what you both convinced yourselves was a purely platonic friendship. Now that he’s here in the flesh, you are determined to make it feel real. And very non-platonic.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Say you love me (i love you) ♡✹ -> @viastro

synopsis: three heavy words. you’re so used to saying this to the one person that’s always been by your side, because you know that he’s your other half; platonically. these words have always held some sort of meaning whenever you say it to vernon, in hopes that maybe one day he’ll say it back to you.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Distraction ♡✹★ -> @minghaoyoudoin

summary: typically, when a person’s house smells like fire, you call the fire department. when your house smells like fire, you know it’s because Vernon is cooking.

[ More Vernon fic recs will be updated ]

Want more Seventeen fic recs? -> Click here

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thyln4gf · 11 months ago

Text

Friends

✞ You and Carlos have been best friends since forever. But is platonic love really everything that you feel for each other?

✞ Word count - 2,5k

✞ I have synesthesia! Heres 5 songs that I associate with this fic - "genie in a bottle" - Christina Aguilera, "friends" - Chase Atlantic, "a rash decision" - Ice Nine Kills, "sonne" - Rammstein, "dont be so shy" - Imany.

✞ Warnings - smut, unprotected sex (wrap the beast before the feast, folks), the influence of alcohol. I also wrote the most of it at like 4am, so pardon the quality of it, thank yewww x

✞ Carlos Sainz x fem!reader

As soon as you step into the house, a soft groan of relief leaves your throat. Your heels immediately get kicked off of your feet, and you dont even bother to fiddle with the straps too much. You had a long, long evening - formal settings werent exactly your natural habitat, but being there with Carlos made them much more bearable. You are his best friend, and he is a famous figure, meaning that he invites you to all sorts of events all the damn time. Speaking of which - he was watching you with amusement, completely aware of the fact that you werent exactly in a huge amount of comfort at the moment.

"And whos not making any sense now? I told you not to wear those." Carlos slips the comment your way, making you roll your eyes only hearing the three magic words. He didnt tell you everything, though - yes, he knew how uncomfortable your heels were. And yes, he also knew that walking in them sucked. But he kept something to himself - the fact that only the thought of those heels excited him, as he had always liked to imagine taking them off for you. He could vividly imagine kneeling right in front of you, taking his sweet time, kissing your skin everywhere that he could reach. He liked the idea of it a little too much, to the point he found himself disappointed when the sight of you kicking them off greeted him.

"I had no choice, and you know it. I had nothing else to go with this dress!" You complain, vaguely gesturing at the dress you were wearing - the tired whine in your voice was obvious. Carlos' eyes slide up and down your body as you did so - he had a chance, and he took it. God, he loved this dress - the red, short-ish dress with a slit on the side - the tattoo on your thigh peeked through each and every time that you moved. He got a sudden urge to bite your thigh right there and then, but he knew that hed be overstepping the boundaries.

All he does is let out an amused, half-chuckle type of laugh. He loved listening to your rants. And boy, could you do that just fine - your mouth never closed. And he loved it.

He started slipping his own shoes off, all while watching you walk into your kitchen - your movements were so smooth, to the point that he swore that you were floating sometimes. He doesnt want to have you out of his sight for too long, so he takes his shoes off just a little faster than he normally would, and following your idea of entering the kitchen. There he found you by one of the counters, pouring yourself a glass of wine. He lets a small smile appear on his lips - he just couldnt help himself around you.

"Tired, amor?" His voice floats through the air, smooth as butter on toast, and just as warm. He always used that specific petname for you, and only you. And youd be a liar if you said that it didnt make you feel some type of way - the tone he used never failed to turn you on just a little, despite you two being... friends? You werent too sure at this point. You just shrug at him as a response, still trying to grab a set of words that were coherent enough. You swirl the beverage in your glass around, eyebrows rising up for barely a second before taking a sip.

Yet another thing that he enjoyed about you - watching all those small habits of yours, which you probably dont even notice. He liked observing you, just looking at you. And he didnt even try to hide it - he'd just wink at you each and every time that you caught him doing so, with no shame.

He wasnt exactly shy, but when it came to you... he felt like he was a teenager all over again. You made his head spin, and it was a much more enjoyable high than alcohol could ever provide. Only the thought of you made his chest tighten, the air threatening to escape his lungs. He shouldnt be so nervous around you, he thought. He could get anyone all giggly in the matter of seconds. Proof? Charles. But you were a special case... thats for sure. The roles were reversed - you were the one that had him thinking about you all day and night, wishing to get out of the friendzone that everyone hated oh so much. He might have had a wank or two with you lingering on his mind - the way you smelled, the way your eyes looked at him. If the dictionary ever needed a picture to describe being down-bad, they should just stick one of Carlos in there.

After a minute of him staring at you with your drink, you look his way. It felt like a routine at this point - you look away from him even for a fraction of a second, and you know that youre going to see his goofy smirk staring right back at you. But this time... this time, something was off. You couldnt tell if it was the alcohol, or something else (you had a pretty awesome night, despite the event being a formal dinner, but thats a standard at this point) - he was looking at you with an almost... hungry look in his eyes. He looked like he was about to drill a hole through your soul, and was particularly enjoying himself, shooting the usual wink your way, before walking up to lean against the counter, right by your side. His thigh brushes against yours, the material of the suit against your skin almost making you shiver.

"You know what would make tonight even better?" He speaks up, his eyes never leaving yours. Hes acting all smooth and smug right now, but you could see him swallowing his own saliva, and his cheeks turning just a tad bit more red.

"Spill it, big boy. Im listening." You reply, your voice sounding just as seductive as his, almost making his brain short circuit - and you can see it from the way his grin makes its way back onto his lips. He had always found your teases adorable, honestly. Hats off for that.

"Well..." Carlos hesitated for a second, which wasnt like him at all - he was nervous, and it was an adorable sight to witness. "We could have the evening to ourselves and..." his eyes moved to your lips for a split second, letting his gaze linger on them for way longer than what he had considered the "safe limit". He only managed to speak again in a second, seemingly collecting himself a little better now. It didnt mean that his cheeks werent heating up in embarrassment, though. "Well, you know."

A chuckle slips from your throat upon hearing his offer. He was beating around the bush slightly, but not like you minded. You had always liked this goofball of a man, and his methods of getting his way. You never let them sink in deep, confused on his true intentions behind his actions. But something about this evening... the alcohol has hit your brain already, and awhile ago, and all you could think about was your friends lips all over you.

You down the rest of your drink, and put the glass down on the counter, a little to the right of you. You turn your head to Carlos, once again. He couldnt be more predictable - youre greeted with a sight of him staring at the hand handling the glass, then your waist. Eventually, up to your eyes. You stare back at him. You raise your finger to trace it along his jawline, his chin, the bottom half of his cheeks. He gulps, getting much more nervous than he was before.

"Youre adorable, did you know that?" You whisper right in front of his face, your warm breath hitting his lips. He doesnt even get to respond, before he feels your lips on his. His brain doesnt even register what was happening at first, but his body reacts way before his brain - his left hand immediately went to your hip, pulling you to his body. The other one is now gripping the counter, and he finds himself hoping that his knees wont give out. He could smell the cherry and cinnamon wine on you the moment you got closer, and he doesnt waste any time - he pushes his tongue out of his mouth, hungry and desperate to taste more. He groans, and your hand slides to his neck in response, gripping it ever so slightly, pulling him closer. He takes it as permission to shove his tongue even deeper, earning a little chuckle out of you.

Quickly enough, his other hand goes down to your hips as well, now caressing them with great intensity. The material of your dress slides up ever so slightly, and he just cant wait much longer - he lifts you without even trying, and places you on the counter. His movements are harsh and desperate, and he doesnt notice the glass. He knocks it over, and it shatters to pieces, right on the floor.

"Carlos..." you groan against his mouth, trying to pull away a little, so you could actually look at what just happened. You earn a sigh out of him for that - out of all the scenarios he had imagined of your first time together... all the circumstances of you moaning his name for the first time were not that. He clicks his tongue, and grabs your chin, turning your face to his, slamming his lips back on yours. It was almost like him saying that he really couldnt be giving less shits. He wanted you, and he was forced to wait for way too fucking long.

His other hand travels down to your thigh, now kneading it like his life depended on it. A moan slips from you, right into his mouth. The grip that you still have on his throat only tightens, causing his movements to become even more aggressive.

He tries to slide your dress up to your waist, but the fabric being trapped between the countertop and your body didnt let him. He lets out a slow groan of frustration. Desperate times call for desperate solutions, no? He leans you against his body, leaning back a little himself. That lets him pull the skirt up. He has barely even brushed his fingertips against your skin, but it was just enough to make your certain area feel a little tingly already.

He wants to take off your underwear as well, while you two are at it. He finds that his back cant take much more of being in this position, but he still hesitates about doing that, his fingers tugging the lacy material ever so slightly. You notice it, and grab one of his wrists to guide him to take those off, almost desperately. You can hear him sucking in a breath, but not resisting anything at all.

Once theyre off, he sits you back down to your previous position. His lips pull away from yours first, something that he never thought that he would be doing. He keeps staring into your eyes, his hands reaching to take his own pants off. This man had his tongue down your throat just seconds ago, and even that didnt make your face heat up more than this.

His pants are off in the matter of seconds. For a second there, he was close to fucking you just like this, through the hole his underpants had in the front. He ended up taking the underwear off as well, and it flied off even faster than the pants did, his boner getting freed as well.

He cant resist looking down to your pussy, already so wet and ready for him. So needy. You had always put up a tough demeanour, which you were trying to maintain even now. Adorable, he thought. He looks back up to your eyes while getting closer to you again, his palms landing on your thighs, spreading your legs just slightly. He was desperate, almost shaking with desire. But he still wanted to get your consent. God, you love men doing the bare minimum so much. All you can manage is a brief nod, and its all it takes him - he almost explodes on you. His lips immediately attack your neck, pressing multiple kisses everywhere that he could reach. He was never a man who liked to waste much time, and it shows - he gave his cock a few pumps before entering you right away, yet still taking his sweet time to let you adjust to him. He earns a gasp out of you, as you throw your head back. He cant help himself, and the kisses on your neck turn into gentle bites. You moan a little louder - feeling him on you, and in you was almost overwhelming, and you could already feel the knot in your lower stomach forming. Though, you werent sure if it was that, or his length hitting you deep. Or both.

He was even closer than you were. The precum has leaked long before he even took his pants off. Honestly... Being near you was almost like keeping an infinite edging streak - sexually frustrating torture. He thrusts into you for a few more minutes, and he already knows that hes about to cum. He groans in frustration (but only because you havent reached your high yet - he was disappointed with himself. But its not his fault that you were so... hot) and is about to pull out, but your legs suddenly wrap around his waist, pulling him closer right before he can do that. A loud moan slips from his throat, the warm liquid already filling you up so good. And you find himself shutting him up with a kiss - the sloppiest youve ever had at this point.

His movements stop, his mind hazy from all the pleasure he's receiving. All he can focus on is you, and only you. You were content with leaving things like this, you were honestly about to cum anyway. Just another minute of him staying inside of you... But Carlos seemed to have gotten a different idea. Suddenly, he's in a kneeling position right in front of you, looking up with his pretty eyes. His eyelashes are longer than mine... what the fuck?

However, your train of thought quickly melts away when his tongue makes contact with your clit. He wanted to go slow just to tease you, but all the pretty sounds you were making teased him instead, and he found himself speeding up just a little, making sure to apply some more pressure as well. And, soon enough, youre riding your own high against his face. Both of your breaths are heavy, and both of you could be found smiling.

You both forgot about the load in you, however. You were still bathing in the dopamine after-high, the satisfaction making both of your heads spin. He looked up at you, again. And right at this moment, marrying your best friend seemed possible - something you never believed in.

#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #f1 fanart #formula one fanart #fanfiction #formula one fanfics #f1 x reader #carlos sainz #carlos x reader #smut #carlos sainz smut

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trancylovecraft · 7 months ago

Text

(AOEX) The Blood Of An Unwilling Covenant

PART 7 OF 8: Lucifer

(Yandere Platonic Demon Kings (Ba'al) x Reader)

SERIES SUMMARY:

BARISTA'S NOTE: sECOND TO LAST PART LETS GO!!!!! GENDER: Femme FANDOM: Blue Exorcist

☀☾☁☂★☀☾☁☂★☀☾☁☂★☀☾☁☂★☀☾☁☂★☀☾☁☂★☀☾☁☂★☀☾☁☂★

LAST PART ,AO3 LINK, SERIES MASTERLIST, NEXT PART

"Camera.. Check! Phone.. Check! Spare change of clothes.. Erm.."

Curtains half drawn over murky windows let light flood into the room, The early morning sun being not deterred by the soot dusting the window panes. It shone on the mess in the room, Shine rolling off ceramics and other illuminating surfaces.

Jars filled with demon bio-produce were piled up to the walls, Heavy-bound books of all sorts being just as tall. Clothes thrown everywhere, A mix of both hers and Lewins. All of it made for a gnarly sight and smell to come under.

But it was nothing compared to the current mess, If that was even possible. The old musty couch was strewn with more clothes than normal. TV still blaring some American cartoon as [F/N] paced back and forth between place to place.

She was somehow able to get around the place with relative ease. Opening up box after box stacked up top everywhere, Apartment still barely moved into.

"Heya.. You good there?" Lewin drawled as he watched [F/N] run back and forth to rummage through all the boxes in the room. Lewin himself was currently lazing upon the old burgundy couch, The one that had cushions torn and had been picked up on the side of the road by none other by the man himself.

[F/N] was almost foaming at the mouth, Even more so once she snapped her head over to him.

"Have you seen any of my clothes around here? I can't find the box with all my stuff in it- Ugh.." [F/N] winced once she drew her arm back out, A thick blue glow wrapped around it and hugging it tight with a slimy touch. A demon, And by the shape it took? No doubt a baby kraken.

Lewin, Ironically, Cracked a smile once he saw it.

"Oops, My bad!" He chuckled, Instantly raising a lazy hand to somehow shoo the demon away. "Linnaeus!"

And just as the demon had came, It had vanished at the summary of it's fatal verse. It seemed to writhe, Spasming and shaking before finally the grip around her loosened entirely. It fell, Hitting the floor as it's blue light started to flicker.

[F/N] looked at it's crumpled body, Disgust running through her features.

"Yeah, Keep your demons in their pens.. Damn it, Lew'.. This isn't the first time.." She scoffed, Pinching her brows with her now-free hand.

"Seriously.. You doin' good? I can see wrinkle lines appearing on your head." Lewin said, Gesturing to his own forehead hidden behind his mop of hair. She groaned, [F/N]'s eyes narrowing in on him.

"It's just.. I can't find my clothes and I need a separate pair in case these ones get ruined! Like I've already got my camera, A few notebooks.. Summoning papers, You know- But I still need my spare change and I can't find it for the life of me!" [F/N] exasperated, Sweat dusting her face.

"Don't you think you got enough?" Lewin said, Pointing over to the backpack sitting atop one of the heaps which so happened to be stuffed full of various items. All of which she listed, Including several other artefacts that seemed weird to where she'd be going.

"Not nearly! Since I wasn't able to go on the camping trip thing, I need to make sure I get everything right this time. It's gonna be a real big day for me!" [F/N] said as she turned back towards the boxes, Feverishly shifting through the contents once more.

Lewin grinned.

"Hah, You and me both.."

The True Cross Festival, The big day. Games, Dances, Fireworks, Food, Festivities. The event that every student in the school had been waiting for ever since they had been accepted into the institution.

Whispers of plans floated through the hallways, Excited chitters leading up to the day. God, [F/N] had been hearing it every second of the day just the week before. And now the big day was finally here.

For many it was a opportunity to ask out their crush due to the entry requirements, To others it was a time to relax and make memories. But to [F/N], It was a prime opportunity to investigate.

"Finally!" She grinned, Opening up another box to find all of her clothes packed neatly inside. Sweaters, Jeans and other types of accessories started to be yanked out of the box and into her arms.

Lewin watched as she piled another few pairs of clothing into her arms, Both for cold and hot weather and even another pair of underwear before hurriedly rushing over her bag and trying to stuff it all inside.

He pushed himself up to a sitting position on the old couch, Yawning lazily as he stretched.

"As I've said- You could really use to loose a few things in there, Ain't this suppose to be something you enjoy?" Lewin yawned once he finally stopped stretching, Staring at her from under his hair as she continued to try push the clothing into the overflowing bag.

"No- It's a way I can get more information about what's going down in there. Like the traitor and the blue night, The things we spoke about-" [F/N] said, Slightly wheezing as she tried to shove and shove everything down in there to no avail. Sweat gathering quicker on her face.

She tried once more, [F/N] pushing down the items on top.

All before she felt the arm of Lewin lightly tug at her wrist, Making her retract it quickly from her bag.

"Hey- What are you-"

"Oh yeah, Definetly overflowing.."

"Lewin- What are you doing?! Hey! Stop touching my stuff!"

"Keeping a few daggers in here? How'd you expect to get past security with all that?"

"Lewin stop it! It took ages to get everything in there! Stop it!"

"Okay, Maybe you can keep the summoning papers.."

"Thank you- HEY! That's my camera, Put it back! Put it back!"

"Aaaand, Ta-da!"

And just like that, The bag that [F/N] had so desperately tried to fill to the brim had depressed almost half it's weight before. Space now very much available inside, Only items spared being her general exorcism stuff and a few new things that Lewin had taken the liberty to throw in.

[F/N]'s jaw was as agape as her eyes, Staring into the new emptiness of her bag that Lewin had dared to meddle in.

"Lew'! Why the hell did you do that?! It took me ages to get everything in there, I need it all if I want to go snoop around in the school! You know, To help me get you evidence?!" [F/N] hissed as she placed her hands on her hips, Angrily staring up at Lewin who still had a lazy smile on his face.

He nodded, Scratching the back of his head.

"Yeah, Yeah. And you've been working really hard to do that! I mean you've already helped lead me to one of the traitors, And trust me, I appreciate that a bunch.. But I think you need to calm down." Lewin said.

[F/N] frowned as she looked at him, Aghast in her eyes yet somehow still mellowing out. Just a few months ago he had specifically told her to do some digging, Now he was telling her to stop it?

[F/N] scoffed.

"But.. But wasn't this something you wanted me to do? You know, Investigate? You can't tell me to stop once I've got invested in it too!" [F/N] exclaimed, Stepping closer to him.

Ever since she had the meeting in Mephisto's office, [F/N] had became just as enthralled as Lewin was in the investigation. Ever since she had gotten that horrid feeling about him, [F/N] knew that she needed to dig in more.

Snooping around teachers rooms, Sifting through file cabinets not meant for her. She had already gotten information and passed it over to Lewin, So after all this work how could he just tell her not to go further?

Lewin sighed.

"But I also said that you should get some friends, And hey! You have with all those exwires! I'm just thinking that you spend this time bonding like you kids usually do." Lewin explained as he in turn stepped closer, The two of them now staring eye to eye.

"They're not my friends.. They're just my classmates.." [F/N] said, And even she knew it was a lie.

"Whatever you say, Ya' munchkin. Just go out and have fun, Forget about the investigation for a few hours and I promise I'll let you throw rocks at the traitor I'm about to catch later." Lewin promised, Playfully reaching out a hand with his pinkie stuck up.

[F/N] huffed, Almost about to comment on his childish behaviour before she brushed it off and wrapped a pinkie of her own around his.

"Whatever.. You better keep your promise though, I've been dying to throw rocks at someone for ages now." She pouted, Pinky finger still firmly wrapped around Lewin's own.

He grinned.

"Of course. You just go have fun, Buy me a souvenir and I'll come back and pick you up at ten, Afterwards we'll hit a burger joint and then I'll let you throw rocks at him. Sound good?" Lewin asked.

[F/N] smiled.

"Yeah.." She said, Trying not to show her grin as she shied her view away from him.

And just like that, The hand that Lewin had joined with [F/N]'s pulled her closer. And before [F/N] knew it his thick arms wrapped around her, Bringing her into a hug.

[F/N] was surprised, Muscles tensing up as she felt his head rest atop hers which was currently pushed into the side of his chest. Lewin had not often hugged her before, Never showed much affection other than playful little punches.

But here he was, Bringing her in without restraint. [F/N] barely even cared about his horrible stench, Not when a hand rested on the back of her head, Another on her back. And just maybe, She started to relax.

Only a little.

"Now go scamper outta here, You're gonna miss your bus!" Lewin laughed as he pulled away from her, The silence he had undertaken before now broken. [F/N] was still standing in slight shock, Eyes wide as she looked up at him.

She blinked, Snapping back into reality.

"R-Right!" [F/N] exclaimed, Finally catching eye of the clock on the far wall. [F/N] tried to gather her thoughts once she gathered her stuff, Grabbing her bag strap and tossing it over her shoulder.

"See you soon, Lew'!" [F/N] called out, Finally reaching the door and turning the knob as she stepped out. She waved goodbye to him and he waved back with a lazy smile, Watching as she sprinted out the door.

A yellow raincoat hanging untouched on the hanger by the door.

☆♡☆

"Hey, Guys! Over here!"

The sun was held bright in the sky, A beautiful sight with no clouds to be seen, Just pure cerulean blue.

The uproar of chatter was already in the air, Sounds of people frolicking around the newly made stalls was the only thing in earshot. Rich smells of meat sizzling and the saccharine scent of sugar was also the only thing you could smell, The festival already starting to gain traction.

"Is that [F/N]? I thought she said she wasn't coming?" Konekomaru said, Turning his head as he watched her run over to them, Smiling slightly at being proven wrong.

"Huh? Oh- I guess she changed her mind!"

The air was fresh, [F/N] could tell as it flew behind her as she pranced over to the group standing just outside the entrance to the festivities. Their figures instantly recognisable as she stuttered to a halt in front of them.

"[F/N]! Thought you said you weren't coming?" Shima exclaimed incredulously as he watched her keel over to catch a breath, Eyes wide as he looked her up and down in her sweater and jeans combo.

"Change of plans.. Turns out I can make it after all.." [F/N] wheezed as she wiped the sweat off of her brow, Lungs burning as she raised herself back up to meet the eyes of her group.

Shima, Bon and Konekomaru. The trio of her classmates stood there in their own outfits, Ready for the festival. [F/N] tried to give them the best smile she could, Trying not to make it look like she hadn't dressed like a slob compared to them.

Bon huffed, Folding his arms.

"Seriously? I thought you said that you were gonna study instead since, You know, You failed your last demonic pharmaceuticals test?" He said as he raised a brow, Looking her up and down with that all too familiar judgemental stare.

[F/N] scoffed.

"And miss all the fun? Yeah no, I came to my senses!" [F/N] laughed as she lightly punched Bon on the side of the arm, Who suppressed a smirk as he lightly shoved her back. [F/N] cackled as she stuck out her tongue at him.

Bon rolled his eyes.

"You still need to study!"

"You still need to shut the fuck up!"

"Calm down you two, You're gonna cause a scene!" Konekomaru said, Moving so he was a human-barrier between the two.

Shima shook his head, Dramatically tutting as he looked at the two.

"Yeah, Exactly! You're really killing the mood you know, How am I suppose to get with hot girls if you two are bickering the entire time in the background? I still need to find a girl to get with so I can go to the dance festival later!" Shima whined as he gestured to the crowds packed behind him, All already enjoying the activities of the festival.

"Erm, I'm a girl?" [F/N] said, Gesturing to herself.

"I said hot girls, [F/N]." Shima replied with an innocent smile.

"HEY!"

[F/N] threw an insult back at Shima, To which Shima gave a passive-aggressive response. They barely even noticed when they got dragged off into the festival, Bon groaning as he lugged both [F/N] and Shima along with him, Konekomaru trying his best to calm the two down.

Only snapped out of it once the blaring noise caught up with her, A light shove by Bon and the smell of enticing meats. Blinking once she realised she was surrounded by a crowd and hundreds of stalls that seemed to muddle on the horizon.

She gulped, Sweat running down her brow with a slight smile.

This was gonna be a long day.

☆♡☆

"Aw man.. Never thought I'd say this, But it's good to get away from all the noise.. Huh?"

The sky was dark, Coloured the deepest of ebony blues and starless with all the light below. Unlike the morning there was a noticeable chill in the air, Either due to the passing time or the new altitude which the two had reached.

That saccharine scent was still lingering in the air, Beautiful tastes of all the food she had eaten still on her tongue. It was all so overwhelming to her, Even now as she stared down at the lights of the stalls did she still feel a rush.

One thing to the next, Perpetual motion. [F/N] had moved from stall to stall, Done party game after party game, Went through every classes activity set up from the festival and had laughed and screamed all the same.

They had met with Rin at his food stall and laughed along with him, They had went through the horror house and had gotten a good laugh when she watched Shima get scared by Shiemi. Izumo too they had passed not even a few minutes ago, Still lingering close by.

They had also lost Bon and Konekomaru somewhere else in the crowd, Konekomaru most likely going to talk with his date and Bon could be just about anywhere. So now it was just Shima and her, After everything that happened..

Dizzying, [F/N] felt. She sipped on the straw of the chocolate shake and let the taste try to calm her, Still cold in her hands and dripping down moisture from the sides. It helped, If only a little bit.

"You could say that again.. I mean, How many girls did you try to ask out?" [F/N] said to Shima as she lightly strolled beside him, High above the stalls in the higher part of the city. Looking lightly over the stone balcony to all the chaos below.

"Ugh! I can't even count and I usually always make sure to remember all the pretty faces I talk to!" Shima exasperated as he dragged his feet alongside her, Seemingly just as worn out from the celebrations as she was.

[F/N] rolled her eyes, Continuing to slurp on her milkshake.

"Just how much stuff I bought on it's own..! You know, My master insisted on emptying my bag before I got here and I'm actually kinda glad he did, Otherwise I wouldn't be able to carry all this.." [F/N] sighed as she readjusted the heaving backpack weighing her down, All stuffed to the brim with all the merchandise she knew her and Lewin would like.

He had slipped his card into her backpack, Something she had found out when rummaging through it. He had trusted her enough to spend his money wisely, Or more accurately trusted her to spend as much of his six-figure salary as she possibly could.

[F/N] smiled, Quietly thanking Lewin under her breath.

"..You and Lightning close?"

"Where'd that come from?" [F/N] asked as she turned to Shima, Who seemed to look back at her with a much more curious expression under the nights sky. Shima just smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

"Dunno, I guess I'm just curious is all. Since you were already his apprentice before joining cram school or whatever, You two related or something?" Shima asked as they made their way towards the balcony, The one overlooking the sea of lights below and where the wind flowed openly.

[F/N] huffed as she continued to drink her milkshake, Leaning over on the stone railings to look out below.

"Not biologically, No. But you know that trope you see in movies? The dickhead older brother who always messes with your stuff and annoys you to high hell? Yeah, That's him." [F/N] said, Rolling her eyes with a slight smirk.

Shima smiled rather forlornly as he leaned over on the balcony like she did, Light reflecting in his eyes.

"Yeah, I get that." He laughed slightly.

"Ah, Okay. Cause of all your brothers, Right?" [F/N] asked as she drew her eyes off the crowds for only a moment, Just to see Shima stare right back off into it. He didn't smile, Just nodded slowly.

He didn't speak either, The smile drawn on [F/N]'s face starting to lessen at the sound of silence. Instead she just brought her eyes back over to the sea of lights, Looking at the crowds below enjoying the festivities.

[F/N] sipped on her milkshake, Tasting the chocolate on her tongue. She should have known that his brothers would've been something difficult to talk about, Ever since the trip to Kyoto she had known something was off.

Especially since the death of the eldest, [F/N] should've taken that as the first sign. She continued sipping on her milkshake, A sort of scratchiness starting to build up in her throat. Shima never really talked about his brothers, Not here nor there.

[F/N] continued to sip on her milkshake, The lights starting to become much more.. Bright. Her nose scrunched up as she turned her head up to meet Shima, Who now seemed to be looking back down at her.

He smiled, Almost awkwardly.

"..Shima, I don't feel so good." [F/N] told him as she finally removed the straw from her mouth, Looking at her milkshake with a sort of queasiness in her eyes. A lightness in her head, A new stutter when she tried to stand.

What was happening? Her fingers started to shake, The muscles much more relaxed than they were suppose to be as the milkshake fell to the floor and splattered across the rocks. She stumbled, [F/N] starting to see two of each in her vision.

Shima hummed, Watching her gait with an unconcerned gaze.

"That must be the Rophynol finally kicking in then." He replied casually as he watched her start to double over.

[F/N] raised her head weakly as she near doubled over, Stumbling back as she stared at him with wide eyes. What little gathered conscious she had left recalled that drug, As clear as day she knew what it was.

Rophynol, Otherwise known as the date-rape drug.

Causes symptoms of confusion, Dizziness, Drowsiness, Lack of coordination, Loss of motor control and slurred speech. Often used by scummy people to knock out an unwilling victim, Usually for the purpose of..

Oh,

Oh fuck.

"Get- Get.. Get away.. Away!" [F/N] tried to yell but it came out as a wheeze, Stumbling back, Almost tripping over on her own feet. It felt like the world was spinning around her, Shaking around like it was encased in a snow globe.

There was no one around to help her, Everyone was so enthralled by the entertainment below that no one dared to come up here. Everyone except her and Shima, No one else around to hear her pleads for help.

Her eyes were wild as she looked at him, Like a cornered animal ready to bite.

His was casual, Looking at her with some synthetic sympathy.

"Don't worry, It's not what you're thinking. I'm not that much of a creep! I slipped it into your shake when you weren't looking earlier, Sorry 'bout this but my boss said that I was to return with you unharmed so.. Had to get creative with how I got you and all!" Shima laughed as he scratched the back of his head, Smiling innocently as if nothing was wrong.

[F/N] wheezed.

What? What was he saying? Who was.. Who was he talking..?

Illuminati.

[F/N] couldn't.. Couldn't get.. Get away. Get away. She needed to get away, Run.. Run away. Lewin, She needed to get Lewin.. Something was.. Something..

Shima got up from his leaning position on the balcony, Slightly stretching with a small yawn as he did.

"Alright, [F/N]. I'm gonna need you to come with me now, Okay? I ain't going to hurt you, My boss would kill me if I did!" He joked as he strolled towards her almost convulsing body, Her eyes untamed and barbaric.

His hands reached out, And in that moment [F/N] cried out.

"Ah-!" Shima yelped out once he felt a slice of what felt like a knife cross his cheek, A searing pain starting to settle into his skin. Blood spurted out from the paper-cut like wound, Muscles tensing.

In [F/N]'s shaky hands was a summoning paper, In her stupor somehow able to pull them out and cut her thumb.

Sylphs floated around her, Glowing an angry luminescent blue and the air around them much fresher than before, Angry faces starting to dart towards him like arrows.

"Aha-! You really are impressive, Should've expected as much from an Arc Knight's apprentice!" Shima complimented in a swift moment, Pulling out his k'rik from within a pocket of his suit and extending it to it's full length.

The gold gleamed in the air, The hoops on the end rattling as he slammed it down towards the oncoming sylphs.

But it stopped.

Before the end of his staff could hit the floor, The fresh air emitted by the sylphs had vanished from the sight. Shima paused in his movements, Eyes raising up to realise that they had disappeared entirely.

He blinked, Sight lowering down.

[F/N] laid fallen upon the rocky pavement, Mouth ajar and dripping in her own saliva. Eyes rolled up to their whites as she convulsed on the floor. The sylphs gone with her, Disappeared once she had finally fallen unconscious.

Shima let out the biggest sigh of his life.

Luckily he didn't need to deal with [F/N], Who had already shown skill incredible and insanely difficult to deal with talents in taming. It would've been impossible to capture her without any sedative, And he needed this to go smoothly.

He still had to find Izumo, Of course!

☆♡☆

"Honey..?!"

"Daddy!!"

The cries of the mans family called out from behind him, Echoing up and out of the dingy stairwell they stood in.

It was cold, Frigid even. If it wasn't for the welcoming warmth outside it could've been mistaken for the winter, Mostly due to the freezer-like chill and the damp dripping conditions around them.

The bloody and beaten man was knelt towards the floor, Keeled and prostrated before The Paladin, An Arc Knight and an entire legion of exorcists, All surrounding him like a pack of dogs ready to snap and bite down onto his flesh.

"We're only getting started now.. As you can see, Your task has ended in failure." Lewin mused as he stood before the shaking man, A grin on his face as he almost looked fascinated by the dribble of blood spurting out from his wounds.

"Could you quickly tell us what's on at the big event?" His family, Terrified and shaking, They called out to him in horror. Lewin paid them no mind as he moved forward, Bending his knees and crouching down towards him.

The man still had his own ichor dripping down his face, Iron tasted teeth turning into a snarl.

"Monster!" He barked, Blood splattering onto the floor in front of him.

"Uh oh! Should you be using such an attitude?" Lewin laughed with a child-like smile as he lowered closer to the man, A gleam in his eyes as he spoke. "I'm gonna have to ask your wife and son!"

The mans bloodshot eyes widened at that, Flicking back from Lewin to his family in the matter of seconds. Blood poured out of his mouth faster than his expression turned sour, Horrified as he watched his family be restrained by a group of exorcists.

He shook his head, Eyes agape as they connected with his wife's.

"Don't.. They don't know anything!" The traitor sputtered as he turned back to face Lewin, Who smiled all the same at him. His wife and son, His pride and joy. They wouldn't.. They wouldn't dare…

Would they?

Lewin chuckled as his eyes seemed to part from under his hair, His elongated pupils and a gleam sharper than a sword in his eyes. The man only watched in horror, Listening to him as he spoke.

"Why bother acting like a good guy now?" Lewin asked as he examined him from his bloody head to severed toes. That sadistic smile downturned, Much more malicious now. "Both of us are monsters in this regard. Cut it out."

Lewin turned his head to meet the eyes of the mans family.

"Then.. Shall we start?" Lewin asked and suddenly the group of exorcists started to pull and manhandle the mans kin, Hands on their shoulders starting to tug them back. Their eyes widening, Struggling to no avail within the hands of the exorcists.

The man gasped.

"Daddy!" His son called out, Terrified face already bursting with tears.

"W-What are you doing..?!" The traitor called out. His expression petrified as he watched his family start to be dragged away into the sea of exorcists surrounding them, His wife wailing as she tried to call out for her son, Her husband all the while yelling for them to take their hands off her.

The man cried.

"W-We're kidnapping two girls hiding within the Japanese division, Both within the hour!" He called out as Lewin raised to his feet, The man watching him with both ire and fear in his eyes. "They're important for our organisation and our goals!"

Lewin frowned, Looking down at the man as he had finally given him the information he had wanted to know. He hummed, Resting his hands on his hips.

"Their names are?" He asked as he looked down at him.

The traitor gulped, Tasting his own blood.

"Izumo Kamiki..!" He rasped. Lewin stepped closer, Almost urging him to go on as the entire exorcist legion listened on.

"..And [F/N] Light!"

Lewin's heart stopped.

☆♡☆

A blinding white muffled by blurred vision, That was all [F/N] could see.

It felt like she was on a ship sailing on a billowing sea, Waves rocking the boat back and forth along the waves as seafoam sloshed at the sides. Rainy too, Pattering against the wild wind of the sails and the rickety wood of the body.

[F/N] wasn't in control of the wheel, Not able to steer her way through the rushing waves or the inky black of the clouds above. She wasn't able to see either, The rain too thick and the wind too fast to even see a proper route out.

Lewin.. Where was her brother?

Her eyelids raised, Though heavy and numb she managed to wretch them open. That blinding white became so much more prominent, So much more scorching to her eyes as she groaned at the sudden light.

"Ah.. You're awake."

A voice like stricken thunder shook her awake, Her eyes becoming lightweight as they shot open to come face to face with a blindingly bright room. Her body felt numb, Unbelievably so. As she rolled her shoulders she barely felt the cushions against them, Nor the clothes it pushed against.

[F/N] groaned, Her heart beginning to pound in her chest especially once she saw a humanoid blur come into focus. It seemed to sit across from her on what appeared to be.. A rather antique looking couch?

"L-Lew.. Lewin..?" [F/N] mumbled out. Her mind in shambles and her vision unfocused. What happened to her? Did she pass out on the couch? Did Lewin carry her home? [F/N] sniffled slightly, Head spinning as she tried to focus her vision.

"You must be confused.. I understand. Your body must be aching, I understand that too. I apologise for the way we had extracted you.. However it was deemed to be the most painless out of our options.." What?

That didn't sound like Lewin. That didn't sound like the jovial tune that sung every time he spoke. It sounded much more delicate, Much more bleak. [F/N] didn't recognise that voice, It certainly wasn't Lewin.

Opening her eyes a bit further, She tried to see through the blinding light.

"W-Who are..-"

Her eyes finally focused on a man sitting adjacent from her, Upon a rather expensive looking couch from the renaissance era. [F/N]'s breath hitched in her throat, Eyes widening, Not caring about the light now-

It was a man.

[F/N] felt her heart stop entirely at the sight of him, Her mouth growing dry. He sat right in front of her on the opposite couch, One leg over the other with posture that could make an old lord envious.

His hair was a beautiful blonde, One that shone white under the candle-light of the candelabra above. His eyes a glorious viridian like the tailfeathers of a rosella, Pupils cut down into slits stared at her with a soft gleam-

He was a demon.

[F/N] wanted to run.

"It is a pleasure to finally meet you.. [F/N]. This meeting is long overdue.."

She felt a wave of unease wash over her, Something was incredibly- Incredibly wrong. It wasn't the way he sat or the way he looked- No- It wasn't even the evident rot festering on his skin.

But it was just the air he gave off, So subtly overwhelming. A pit in her stomach forming as she looked at him closer and closer. He presented himself as dignified, As angelic even- But something about that just made [F/N] want to turn her head and puke-

He wasn't right. He was off-

[F/N] felt bile rise in the back of her throat.

"My name is Lucifer, Commander of The Illuminati and The King of Light." Lucifer spoke, His emerald eyes gleaming under the luminescence.

[F/N]'s heart stopped.

Her hands grasped the edges of the couch she sat on with a grip that could crush stone. The.. The King of Light? Lucifer? It couldn't be. But every cell, Every molecule, Every atom was screaming at her to run-

Something that could only be achieved by such accursed royalty.

"You are currently sitting within my estate, Again, I apologise for your rather abrupt summoning here." Lucifer spoke up once more as he slowly rested one of his legs over another, A hand gesturing towards the table. "Please, Feel free to indulge. These were specifically procured to your taste, You do enjoy sugar, Correct?"

[F/N] didn't want to eat, She wanted to puke. Her throat was dry yet she could do little but reach a trembling hand over to the collection of treats upon the table top. Trays of tarts, Plates stacked with parfait all on this antique little table.

Her fingers fumbling before grasping a macaroon, Her eyes never leaving the demon sitting across from her.

[F/N] couldn't even think.

Lucifer's face never changed. Never ticked, Never twitched. Watching calmly as she began to nibble on the outer shell of the macaroon, The one that happened to be the same flavour she had grown to favour. A gentle hum erupted from his throat.

[F/N] flinched.

"Is it to your liking?" Lucifer asks her, His expression unmoving as [F/N] froze up on the spot. [F/N] felt her mind race at such a simple question, Swallowing back what little of the macaroon she had ingested.

Don't be scared- Don't- Just don't try to look him in the eye- His eyes- Just don't-

"..Y-Yes- Uhm-" [F/N] blurted out. It came out hoarse as her hand darted up to pat her throat, Her jugular tensing.

"Homare." Lucifer called out, His voice a little louder than the melodious tone he held before. [F/N]'s eyes darted to her right as she heard firm, But swift footsteps make their way over to the table.

CLANK!

[F/N] gulped. Two tea cups were placed onto the table. Liquid pouring. A petite woman standing by [F/N]'s side with an ornate porcelain teapot in hand, Contrasted by the adorned look on her Illuminati uniform.

When did get she here?

Homare didn't look at [F/N] at all, Her eyes kept on the from behind her glasses. Lips thinned in a tight line. As she finished pouring the liquid, [F/N] quickly took the teacup. Anything to avoid his eyeline.

"You must be wondering why you're here." Lucifer spoke up once more, Homare's presence going ignored as she began to pour the simmering hot tea into the second cup. [F/N] bit her lip.

"L-Listen- I don't have any information to give you." [F/N] quickly said, Her words blurring together. "I don't- I don't get that kind of access. I've never been to- I've never even been to Italy..! I-"

"You are not here for information, We are aware you aren't privy to that kind of information." Lucifer cut in calmly as Homare finished pouring the tea into his cup, Gently picking it up as she drew back away from them, Somewhere back into the room.

[F/N] gulped.

"T-Then why-"

"You've caused quite a stir in Gehenna, Though I'm sure you are aware of that by now." Lucifer spoke, Taking a sip of his tea. "Even amongst my siblings, The other kings, You've made quite an impression on them."

Lucifer lowered the teacup from his lips, His eyelids fluttering as he set it down amongst the array of desserts on the table. Irises flicking back

"I have been hearing about you for quite a long time.. Ever since Astaroth had returned speaking of a little human girl who had caused his vessel's heart to start beating.." Lucifer trailed off, For once, His eyes narrowed. "I had excused it as the delusion brought on by his rapidly decaying body.. But then it was Iblis and Egyn.. Who both haven't stopped mentioning you, Even to this day.."

[F/N]'s grip on the tea cup tightened as he continued on, Memories of the day she had met the pair of kings flashing in her mind. They had remembered her, They didn't let go- Her penchant-

This was what Azazel had warned her about.

"I've been wanting to meet you, You see." Lucifer spoke, A glint appearing in the shimmer of his eyes. "Your.. Penchant, As you call it, I want you to explain it to me. Tell me how you inflict it on other demons, As it has become rather troubling.. Tell me, How do you make them believe they feel human love?"

[F/N] wanted to scoff, She really did.

Human love? As if such a creature could comprehend it.

Human love was gentle, Human love was passionate, Yet there was no string of words to ever describe it. You could call it kind, You could call it exciting. Bonding, Connecting, Warming.

But none of these were ever things such a monster could understand.

"I.. I-I don't know- I can't control it." [F/N] tried to explain, Ashamed of the terror rushing through her veins as she tried to make sense of her words. "I-It's not like I'm doing it on purpose- It just happens when I meet them, That- That somehow they just become more.. Friendly..?"

The word friendly tasted like venom on her tongue.

"I-I don't know how to explain it- I don't know how it happens. Just.." [F/N] took in a shaky breath, Raising her head up to him, Humiliated by what she was about to do. "P-Please, Let me go. I just want to go home- I don't have anything to give you just..! Please.."

Begging.

It made her feel disgusting.

But she needed to get out of here, Out of here before he became affected too.

Lucifer hummed, Unaffected by her words as he leaned back on the couch he was sitting in. He had picked up his tea again and began to sip on it once more, His body still tense, The rot on his skin continuing to fester.

"So you can't control it.." Lucifer mumbled as he peered down at the liquid circling in his teacup. [F/N] was sat on baited breath. Well aware of the eyes on her, The body guards, The Illuminati members that she was unable to see stationed about the room.

"N-No..- So could you please just.. Please let me go." [F/N] spoke quietly, Yet desperately, Trying her best to convince The King of Light to let her go. Like a mouse begging a cat to let it out from in-between it's claws.

Lucifer didn't respond. Just sat there. Staring down at his tea.

"P-Please.. I'm only an exwire, I couldn't do anything even if I tried-" The grip on the teacup handle tightened.

[F/N] cut herself off as she watched his jaw tighten, Shoulders squaring, The teacup beginning to shake from the sheer grasp he had on the handle.

"Commander..!"

CRASH!

[F/N]'s eyes widened as she watched the teacup slip from his fingers, Shattering on impact at the edge of the table. Lucifer groaned under his breath, Keeling over, His trembling gloved fingers grasping the ledge of the table.

Homare, The woman from before rushing over to his side followed by a small fleet of guards. [F/N] pushed herself back in suprise, Hadn't expecting the crowd as they rushed to their superiors side.

"What the-"

"It appears this body is much weaker than I had thought..-"

Lucifer grasped the side of his cheek, Where [F/N] watched as the decay visibly grew. She felt her eyes widen as Homare helped steady him. Her attention focused on him and only him, Her lips thinned. [F/N] blinked.

Was this her chance?

Demon Kings, Their bodies unable to handle their strength, Decaying faster the bigger they are. It was only correct that the strongest amongst them would be in constant pain, Constant torture.

She knew what she needed to do- To try.

[F/N] slowly released her grip on the couch. Lucifer keeled over, His guards and right-hand focused soley on him. Nudging herself to the side, Further, A little more. [F/N] needed to find summoning paper, Or at least something to prick her thumb-

[F/N] didn't expect to get far, Not without her dear sylphs-

CRASH!

[F/N] yelped.

Trays and platters fell to the floor, The desserts crumbling against the floor to make way for the arm that lunged out from amongst the small group. A hand grasped onto her wrist. A thinning, Shaky, Sickly hand with such unbelievable strength.

A pair of green eyes were illuminated through the parting of silvery hair, Wide, Staring at her. His instincts and his reflexes unmatched. [F/N] stared into them, Her throat going dry-

"Do not move-"

THUMP!

It was like a pin had been dropped in a silent room, Or a scream erupting within a library. It was the kind of thing that could be felt from miles away, Like the devastation of a tsunami or the the heat scorching off the sun.

And it was without any noise, Not much anyway.

His hand let go. [F/N] pushed herself back onto the couch, Her legs almost kicking in her scurry, Trying to get as far away from him as possible.

THUMP!

She knew what had happened when Lucifer had gasped for air, Like a drowning man taking his first breath of air. When his face moved like it had muscles underneath, Not tin and clockwork.

The guards all made barks of concern as he collapsed back onto the couch. Body jerking. His eyes wide as he stared up at the ceiling, Heaving, His chest raising up and down at an unnatural pace. His expression, It was-

"Commander..! Are you..-!"

"T-This heart.. This.." Lucifer breathed, In and out, His body splayed against the couch as his eyes lit up. The words of Homare went completely ignored. "This vessel-! T-This body..!"

Lucifer's hands grasped his vessel, One grasping the fabric and flesh covering his heart and the other almost frantically trailing up the rot that festered on the side of his face. His breathing ragged, Yet his body calm and almost relaxed.

"Commander..?" Homare's eyes widened as she watched him, Raising up as her eyes stared on with confusion. Lucifer grasped his chest, Where his heart was, His breathing slowing. Calming. If only a bit.

He shuddered, An audible shiver running down his spine. The fleet of guards stepped away from him, All looking at one and other at the scene. It was almost like his body had melted into the cushions, Relaxing, Like the numb procured from a good night's sleep.

"This body..!" Lucifer breathed out, His eyes aglow as he stared up at the ceiling above. His hand shook where it grasped his heart, The organ that began to thump. "There is no pain- I- What is.. It feels.. Good- No. It feels great..!"

Lucifer stirred, His head almost lolling to the side as he sat forward on the couch. His eyes looked almost dizzy, And if not for his unsightly self-control he would've collapsed right back onto the cushions.

[F/N] flinched when his head raised.

He was affected.

Lucifer's eyes snapped onto her, Widening, Watching.

"You..-!"

His voice sounded like he was parched, His eyes lighting up when he finally drew his attention back to her.

[F/N] could only yelp once she was yanked forward. When those hands grasped onto her wrists and tugged her forward. She almost collapsed over the table and the fallen trays, Barely grasping onto the edge to save herself.

"T-This was it..! I understand it now.. What my siblings were raving about, This is it..!" Lucifer rasped as he pulled her closer with such unthinkable strength, His stare scorching, Looking down at her- "You.. I understand now, Why they were so enthralled by you- I understand-!"

[F/N] yelped.

"No- No- NO-!" [F/N] yelled out, Unable to take it anymore. She cried out. Trying to yank her arm away from him to no avail. Lucifer only tightened his grip around her wrist. Painful, Almost bruising her skin.

"You..! You stay right there-!" Homare called out, A hiss in her voice as she quickly took charge and grasped onto [F/N]'s shoulder, Keeping her in place. [F/N] struggled, Trying her very best to get out of the woman's grasp but it was futile.

"L-Let go-!"

"Please.. Come closer." Lucifer almost begged, His voice quiet yet pleading as he relented the grasp he had on her to beckon her towards him.

Was the space between them too much? The two foot wide gap? [F/N] felt tears begin to prick in her eyes, Pure hatred running through her veins as Homare wrestled her up to her feet and began to shepherd her around the table.

She almost slipped on the polish of the wood, Trying to kick her way out of Homare's hold.

But it was useless.

[F/N] felt herself get pushed down onto the opposite couch, Her back hitting the cushions as a chill ran down her spine. Whenever this happened, Whenever another demon king got affected by her penchant she had always found a way out. To run or fight, She had always found a way out of here.

She always had. Always. Even now there was a way out, Wasn't there? There must be- Surely-

"There you are.. That is much better.." Lucifer spoke out, His voice returning to that gentle lilt though there was an undeniable warmth to it now. His eyes gleaming, Sitting there beside her, Facing her, His attention unwavering.

"Don't- Don't touch me-!" [F/N] cried out, Tears starting to trickle down her cheeks as Lucifer took them into his gloved palms. His touch was freezing, Even through the silky fabric.

It was enveloping too, His grasp a little too tight. How could she get out? How could she escape? His grasp make her skin feel dead and embalmed. The guards surrounded them, Homare especially keeping her eyes trained on [F/N] for any sudden movements.

Fuck. [F/N] trembled. There was no way she'd be able to get away, There was no chance. [F/N]'s reddening eyes were wide, Unable to remove them from Lucifer's. Tears falling down her face, Sizzling at her skin.

How could she get away? In the end she was still just a girl.

The same girl refused to follow her friend into the forest.

Oh, Who was [F/N] kidding?

She was still a kid.

A stupid, Scared, Sniffling little kid.

"No.. No. Why are you crying?" Lucifer asked quietly, Eyes narrowing. His thumb rubbing circles into the skin of her cheek. Wiping away the tears that erupted from her ducts. "It.. Does not feel good to see.. Tell me, What is it that you want? What will make you stop?"

[F/N] hiccupped.

"To go home-! Let me go home-!"

"-No. Anything but that." Lucifer answered quickly, His lips thinning. His hands holding her face growing tighter at her words. "I'll give you anything else.. You see, This vessel.. I have never been able to exist a moment in this world without pain.. An ache that never dissolved, Not until now.."

Lucifer's voice almost shook, The euphoria of normalcy was overwhelming, Overtaking. It was something he could feel in his very being. [F/N] hiccupped, Her throat aching.

Lucifer parted his eyes from hers for only a moment, Glancing up at his right-hand.

"Homare.. Please summon a cleaner to fix this mess as well as more tea." Lucifer ordered firmly, Still gripping [F/N]'s crying face in his hands as Homare saluted and bowed, Barking out a "Yes, Sir..!" before quickly making her way towards the rooms pair of doors.

It was only once they opened and shut did Lucifer return his gaze towards her. Such a sickening, Burning gaze.

It was calculating, Thinking, Asking himself what he was to do.

"Now.."

Tears continued to run down her face even when she was tugged closer. Gently, Yet firm as she felt his arms awkwardly rest around her in what could only be described as an android's attempt at a hug.

His movements were stiff, His limbs not use to the action he was doing. An arm around her back with another on the back of her head. He had leant down, Her head resting on his shoulder. It was if he was trying to mimic what others have done before, A fraudulent copy of what usually was such a genuine action.

[F/N] didn't even fight back, Not when she felt the stare of the entire guard on her back.

"..Does this make you feel better?" Lucifer asked after a moment, His head resting atop hers. [F/N] still shook in his grasp, His cold and mechanic grasp. Feeling his fingers weave themselves into her hair, Firmer than what she expected.

Awkward, But firm enough to ensure she would be unable to get out.

It didn't make her feel better, Not in the slightest. [F/N] tried her best to calm herself down, To think rationally. To imagine that she was hugging someone she actually loved, Like Lewin or Osceola or her friends from the cram school.

Friends, They really were her friends.

[F/N] sniffled, Trying to imagine she was with them and not Lucifer right now. Imagining the smell of ash in the classroom, The obnoxiously coloured halls, The echoing chatter that bounced around the room.

[F/N] missed them. Her friends. Her actual friends. She had companions for once in her life. She had a network, A system she could rely on when she fell, Knowing that they would help her get back up.

[F/N] hoped they were coming for her, To help her get out of here. Anywhere but here, Anywhere.

"Commander."

Homare had returned, Had it been that long? [F/N] saw her standing there through the blur of her tears, Arms positioned behind her back and her eyes a little bit wider than they were before.

There was no tray of tea in her hands like she was ordered to bring.

[F/N]'s eyes widened.

A sudden chill washing over her.

"Commander, I apologise for returning so quickly however I've just been informed that we have- Erm.. Guests." Homare coughed on the last part, Almost as if figuring out how to put it.

Readjusting her glasses she spoke once again.

"The other demon kings, They are here."

[F/N] felt her heart stop.

The demon kings.. They..

They were here?

Lucifer let go of [F/N] however reluctantly, Releasing her from his hold. He pushed himself up to his feet and readjusted his uniform, Settling the velvet of his cape back over his shoulders as he turned to face Homare.

"I had expected this much.. I can sense their presence already.." Lucifer spoke calmly as he dusted himself off. "Not just Astaroth, Iblis and Egyn.. I can sense that Beelzebub, Amaimon and Samael are here as well.."

"Yes, Commander. They are currently standing within the foyer as we speak, They are currently waiting for you."

"Is Samael willing to talk?"

"Yes, I believe he was the one that alerted Beelzebub and Amaimon here. He has not came with anyone from The Order."

"I see. Good."

[F/N] felt her heart near explode. The kings, Demons, The worst of them all.

They were here.

A cold sweat covered her skin worse than it had before, Tears and snot dribbling down her face even harder. All of them, The ones she had met over the years, They had never forgotten her and now they were here.

[F/N] couldn't fight, Couldn't scream, She couldn't run anymore like she had done so many times in the past.

This was it.

There was no escaping now.

"Prepare the master dining room for a feast, Summon the cooks to prepare food however last-minute. Whatever they deem is best."

"How many chairs, Commander?"

"Nine. I can sense Azazel has recently found himself a vessel, He should be arriving rather late but make room for him anyways."

Lucifer turned to her, The emerald in his eyes glinting as he looked down at her. That expression, The one of calm and collected demeanour holding something else now. Something much darker than his title suggested.

He turned to her, Examining her from head to toe.

"I suppose there would be no time to fix your appearance, Unfortunately. I don't believe that our siblings would stay patient much longer.." Lucifer remarked as he looked at her, Frozen there, Terrified out of her mind.

He turned to face her now, Homare already running off to complete her order. Lucifer looked at her from head to toe, At her expression of gritted teeth and sweat building on her brow.

Lucifer almost sighed.

"And I don't suppose you would come peacefully to the dining room either. You are still shaken from the unorthodox way I brought you here, Not to mention that I've heard you have a rather troublesome distaste for us demons." Lucifer almost lamented as he looked down at her.

He took a step forward, His hand raising in the air.

"Ah.. It's no matter. Today you have shown me how it feels to exist without pain, Without weakness." Lucifer spoke, Grateful, His words were dripping in it. "Even now I feel the beating of this vessel's heart, What a wonderous feeling. I understand what the rest of our siblings meant when they had told me.. And I thank you for that."

All of a sudden, He snapped his fingers.

[F/N] only heard the quick sounds of footsteps, Hundreds, Thousands. Echoing and ringing in her ears as she was hefted up to her feet. An arm under each of her pits, Carrying her, Holding her up with such daze in her expression.

Lucifer's gaze almost softened.

"This is familial love, Is it not? Even such a demon as I can be affected by it, By you." Lucifer spoke, So eerily, Dreamily. As the guards surrounding her began to take her away, Her mind in shambles with no more tears left to cry.

[F/N] felt her feet drag against the floor, Mind yelling at her- Screaming as she heard a door open.

Wishing this was all just a dream.

A ghost of a smile appeared across Lucifer's face, Only fitting on such a lifeless being.

"Don't try to fight or run, [F/N]. You may not favour demons, But as our newest sibling, You are sure to learn how to see things our way. However long it takes. Please, Try to behave yourself, Will you?"

The door slammed shut.

And suddenly, Everything turned black.

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shallyouobeyme · 1 year ago

Text

Spider

Miles Morales, Hobie, Pavitr, Gwen + (mentioned) Platonic!Yandere!Miguel x child!reader (GN)

Summary: Deciding to cause some Mayhem, Hobie, Miles, Gwen and Pavitr go looking through Miguel's office in his absence, only that what they find there, isn't quite what any of them expected. Who'd have thought Miguel was the type to have a secret Apartment...only that that might not be the worst thing in there...

TW: Kidnapping, dark!content, yandere, threat of violence (not towards reader), MDNI, I do not condone this behaviour, this is just fiction

Day 2 of my Yandere Writetober

After Miles' official introduction into the Spidersociety, he’d loved spending his time there. Not only because he’d be able to hang out with Gwen, Hobie and Pavitr, but also because he felt like part of something bigger. He’d made up an after-school club to his parents and had somehow managed to keep the lie up to this day, which took a lot of studying and doing his best to actually attend class to make his parents trust him.

One afternoon the four spiders were hanging out when Hobie suggested doing something less boring, like breaking into Miguel’s office and checking out his hologram Programm. And while Miles and the others knew that there were some serious consequences if they’d get caught, the energy Hobie had was infectious and they soon found themselves sneaking through his door after making double-sure that Miguel and Jessica were on a mission.

The thrill of sneaking through his office, using his floating platform and the holographic floor to show each other nice or funny memories from their respective universes was just the thing four teenagers needed to have the time of their life’s.

About half an hour had passed and they were strewn around the room looking around. Hobie was probably dismembering and taking components from the different machinery, Gwen was trying to use the holographic floor to look at some classic concerts and Pavitr was playing around with the floating platform. Miles had taken to exploring the shelf’s in one of the corners of the room. Usually the room was so dark that you’d hardly be able to see them which is why

Miles had to use his phone's flashlight to see around. The shelves were filled with some gizmos and gadgets, some files strewn around, some boxes and blueprints. Nothing of particular interest to Miles, or at least nothing until his light hit a picture frame standing about where Miguel's eyes would be level with it.

Given that Miles was not quite as tall as Miguel, he had to rise to his tiptoes to even get an idea of what it depicted, he thought he recognized the image from the video Miguel had showed him when telling him about the dangers of ignoring canon events. It was a picture of his late daughter.

Miles had to swallow hard. He tended to forget what hardship Miguel went through because of how much of a douche he was to him. Something in Miles compelled him to take a closer look at the picture so he reached out to it and tried to take it, but instead of coming down from the shelf, he was only able to pull it slightly into his direction. Then there was a quiet but noticeable ‘click’ before the shelf with the picture on it opened a gap.

"Guys? Uhm, there’s something over here,” Miles called out to his friends who all ran over to him.

“What’s up?” Pavitr asked as he looked around, without seeing anything.

“Well, I think this shelf- let me just-“ he stuttered as he took a hold of the side of the shelf where the gap had opened and pulled.

“Whoa, a secret room? Cool,” Gwen mumbled in awe and slight confusion.

“I knew that bloke had somethin’ to hide, he ain’t right kosher, y’know,” Hobie shrugged and was the first to take off into the secret passage, the other three hot on his heels.

Miles wasn’t sure what he had expected to hide in the secret room, but he was sure it had been anything but what they found there.

Behind the shelf was what seemed to be a full apartment, with a nice open concept as Pavitr noted offhandedly, which in itself wasn’t so strange, after alle, maybe Miguel just liked his privacy.

Or at least that was what the four would have thought if it wasn’t for the plushies, toys, coloring books and other children’s stuff strewn throughout the different sections of the big room.

“Maybe Miggy over here is a bit more kinky then we gave ‘im credit for,” Hobie joked as he picked up a princess coloring book from the kitchen table and leafed through it.

“I don’t know, something about this seems weird, right guys?” Gwen looked around and received nods from Miles and Pavitr, “Maybe we should leave…”

Miles wanted to agree, wanted to get out of there and act like they’d never been there, but his stupid spider-senses had to start going off the charts right that second as he heard something from behind one of the three doors leading out of the room, the only door with more locks on it then on an average New Yorker apartment door.

“You guys feeling that?” Pavitr asked, confirming Miles’ fear that he wasn’t the only one whose senses were acting up.

Not bothering to answer, Hobie and Gwen were the first ones to go towards the door, quickly followed by the other two.

Hobie had already taken hold of the door on both sides ready to take it off its hinges when Gwen stopped him.

“If we break it, there’s no denying what we did anymore, maybe we should try this differently. These locks seemed to be electric, maybe we could overload them to reset them or something.”

Miles quickly realized that with ‘we’ Gwen meant him so he pushed himself to the front and got ready to electrify the locks.

A few seconds later there was a shrill beep and a click and with high anticipation, Miles took hold of the door handle and… It opened without problem.

With bated breath, he opened the door.

“Daddy?” a soft, quiet voice, doubtlessly that of a child, called out to them and all of them stood there like frozen as they stared towards the small kid sitting on a fuzzy blue rug surrounded by dolls and plushies. The child tilted their head, looking at them in confusion.

“Hi, are you friends with Daddy?” they asked, but none of them were in the mental state to answer them, all too shocked.

Suddenly a voice called out from speakers somewhere in the room.

“Y/N go into your room immediately please,” a voice - all of them recognized it as Lydia’s - said and after a slightly disappointed ‘okay Aunt Lyd’ from the child they left through a sliding door in the wall opposite of the four spiders which immediately closed (and probably locked) after them.

“Miguel has been informed of your intrusion, I’d advise you to take your leave immediately, and if you enjoy your heart beating I’d tell you not to mutter a word of this to anyone, now leave.”

With a heavy heart and many questions the four ran out of the secret apartment, making sure to close the shelf after them, before they disbanded and returned to their original universes. All of them couldn’t get the child out of their head, but especially Miles couldn’t help but feel he’d seen them before.

Only when he was lying in bed that evening mulling over the events of that day again did he remember.

Months ago his father had taken one of his files home with him, a missing persons report, a little child had disappeared right out of their childhood bedroom without any hint as to what or who had taken them.

In the upper corner of the report was a picture of a smiling toddler with an white area below where their name was…Y/N.

#Yandere #x reader #spiderverse #spider man across the spider verse #miles morales #Hobie #Pavitr #pavitr x reader #Gwen Stacy #Gwen #yandere!miguel #miguel o’hara #platonic #platonic yandere #dark!miguel #dark content #tw: kidnapping #child!reader #gender neutral reader

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anna-the-undertaker · 6 months ago

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Do you have hc for Solomon with a teen apprentice? (Platonic obviously) Thanks if you do this♡

Solomon & Teen Apprentice MC

A Chaotic Mentor with a Purpose: Solomon thrives in chaos, and that’s exactly how he teaches. When MC first becomes his apprentice, they quickly learn that there are no structured lessons or neatly written textbooks. Instead, Solomon prefers throwing them straight into the deep end. One minute, MC might be practicing basic spells, and the next, they’re scrambling to contain a magical explosion caused by one of Solomon’s half-baked experiments. Solomon watches with that mischievous grin, completely at ease while everything around him is in disarray. "You’ve got to be prepared for anything," he’ll say with a chuckle. "The best way to learn magic is to see what happens when things go wrong." But even as chaos swirls, there’s a method to his madness. Solomon is always watching, guiding with subtle corrections, making sure MC learns through experience. He believes in trial by fire because that’s how he learned—and in his mind, it’s the only way to become truly skilled in magic.

Endearing Moments Hidden in the Chaos: Amid all the pranks and unpredictability, Solomon has his softer moments. After a particularly rough day of training—when nothing seems to be going right for MC—he’ll sit with them, his usual playful tone replaced by something gentler. "You’re doing better than you think," he’ll say, handing them a cup of tea with a knowing smile. It’s in these quiet moments that Solomon lets his guard down, sharing pieces of his life that no one else gets to hear. Stories from centuries ago, about the mistakes he made when he was younger, and the people he’s met along the way. "I didn’t get everything right the first time either," he admits, surprising MC with his vulnerability. "But that’s what magic is—making mistakes and learning from them." And even though Solomon usually plays the role of the jokester, in these moments, it’s clear how deeply he cares about MC’s progress and well-being.

A Father Figure in Disguise: Though Solomon never outright calls himself a father figure, his actions speak louder than words. He’s protective in subtle ways—making sure MC eats properly (even if his own cooking is questionable), giving them a stern talking-to when they push themselves too hard, and staying up late when they’re struggling with a particularly difficult spell. When MC feels overwhelmed or insecure about their abilities, Solomon’s there to reassure them, but in his own, teasing way. "You’ve got potential," he says with a grin, ruffling their hair. "And you’ll get there eventually. Just don’t expect to be as great as me anytime soon." He acts like it’s all a joke, but the affection in his words is unmistakable. For Solomon, who has lived for centuries, MC is a refreshing reminder of what it’s like to be young and eager to learn. They bring out a side of him that’s more nurturing, even if he’d never admit it.

Solomon’s Pranks—A Lesson in Mischief: Solomon’s love for pranks is well-known, and he sees no reason to hold back just because MC is his apprentice. In fact, he sees it as an essential part of their training. One day, MC might be practicing a simple levitation spell, only for Solomon to tweak the spell behind their back so that objects start flying around the room uncontrollably. "Oh, you didn’t know that could happen?" he says with a laugh, watching as MC frantically tries to get everything under control. "Consider it a lesson in improvisation." Another time, he’ll give them a seemingly ordinary potion to brew, but as soon as they finish, the liquid turns into rainbow-colored bubbles that float around the room, popping harmlessly in MC’s face. Solomon just watches, grinning the whole time, enjoying the chaos. "Magic should be fun, too," he’ll say afterward, handing them a towel to wipe off the soap-like residue. "If you can’t laugh at it, you’re not doing it right."

MC Gets Even—Their Own Pranks: MC eventually catches on to Solomon’s chaotic nature and starts pranking him back, much to his delight. After one too many magical mishaps caused by their mentor, MC decides to get revenge. During one of their lessons, they cast a spell that turns Solomon’s hair into a giant, poofy cloud of pink cotton candy. At first, Solomon doesn’t realize what’s happened, too busy explaining the intricacies of spellcasting, but when MC starts giggling uncontrollably, he catches a glimpse of himself in a nearby mirror. His expression goes from confusion to amusement, and then full-on laughter. "Touché," he says, admiring the ridiculous sight. "I see you’re learning more than just magic." He’s genuinely proud of MC for getting the upper hand, and their playful banter only strengthens their bond. In fact, Solomon encourages their pranks, seeing them as proof that MC is becoming more confident in their abilities.

Accidentally Calling Him 'Dad': The first time MC calls Solomon "Dad," it’s completely unintentional. They’ve been working together for hours on a complicated spell, and Solomon’s been unusually patient, walking them through each step with care. After finally getting it right, MC, exhausted and grateful, mumbles, "Thanks, Dad," without even realizing it. The room goes silent for a moment, and MC’s eyes go wide as they realize what they’ve just said. They expect Solomon to laugh or tease them mercilessly, but instead, he just looks at them with a soft smile. "I suppose that’s not the worst thing you could call me," he says, his voice unusually gentle. For once, there’s no joke, no prank—just a moment of quiet understanding between them. Though neither of them acknowledges it directly, there’s a shift in their relationship after that. Solomon doesn’t bring it up again, but from then on, his protectiveness over MC becomes a little more obvious, his care a little more deliberate.

Challenging MC in Unexpected Ways: Solomon believes that the best way to learn magic is through challenges, and he’s not one to go easy on MC. One day, without warning, he teleports them to a mysterious, enchanted forest and tells them to find their way back using nothing but the skills they’ve learned. It’s a test of everything they’ve practiced—spellcasting, critical thinking, and, most importantly, trusting their instincts. MC stumbles at first, but Solomon’s voice echoes through the trees, offering cryptic hints and riddles, pushing them to solve the puzzles on their own. When they finally make it out, tired but triumphant, Solomon is there waiting with his usual grin. "Took you long enough," he says, though the pride in his eyes is unmistakable. "But you did well. See? You’re getting stronger every day."

Affection Hidden in the Chaos: Though Solomon’s default mode is chaotic, his affection for MC is always present, even if it’s hidden beneath layers of teasing and pranks. He shows it in small ways, like making sure they have a cup of tea ready after a long day of training or draping a blanket over their shoulders when they fall asleep during late-night study sessions. He never makes a big deal out of these gestures, often brushing them off with a casual, "You looked cold," or "Can’t have my apprentice catching a cold." But MC knows better. Solomon’s care might be subtle, but it’s there in every little thing he does. And though he’ll never say it out loud, he’s proud of the bond they’ve built together.

The Disaster That Is Cooking Together: Every now and then, Solomon tries to teach MC how to cook, though it’s less of a lesson and more of a catastrophe. Solomon’s cooking skills are, to put it kindly, disastrous. But that doesn’t stop him from enthusiastically throwing ingredients into a pot and declaring, "This is going to be amazing!" MC, already skeptical, watches as the mixture turns an alarming shade of green. When the dish finally finishes, it looks like something out of a horror story, and MC can’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. Solomon takes a bite, makes a face, and then bursts into laughter himself. "Okay, maybe I’m not the best chef," he admits, "but hey, at least it’s memorable, right?" Cooking together becomes a tradition of sorts, where neither of them expects the food to be edible, but they have fun with it anyway.

Solomon’s Quiet Protectiveness: While Solomon’s chaotic nature often takes center stage, his protectiveness over MC becomes more obvious the longer they work together. He’s not one to hover or coddle them, but if MC is ever in danger or overextends themselves, Solomon steps in without hesitation. During one particularly dangerous magical experiment, when a spell goes wrong and nearly backfires, Solomon is there in an instant, casting a protective barrier around MC without a second thought. He plays it off later, acting like it was no big deal, but the look of concern in his eyes lingers longer than usual. "Next time, don’t push yourself so hard," he says, his tone light but with an underlying seriousness. "I’m supposed to be the chaotic one, remember?"

The Bond Between Them: Over time, the relationship between Solomon and MC deepens. What started as a mentor-apprentice dynamic slowly evolves into something more familial. Solomon continues to be his unpredictable, mischievous self, always pushing MC to their limits and challenging them in unexpected ways. But there’s a mutual respect that grows between them—MC learns to appreciate Solomon’s unconventional teaching methods, while Solomon grows attached to MC in ways he didn’t expect. For all his centuries of experience, MC brings something new into Solomon’s life: a sense of connection and responsibility that he hasn’t felt in a long time. He watches with pride as MC grows into their abilities, knowing that, despite all the chaos, he’s helped shape them into a powerful sorcerer.

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me mc #obey me solomon

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reilliane · 1 year ago

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Fatalism ⊱⊰ Scaramouche

✤ she/her ✤ words: 9.5k

The oh-so-great Balladeer was a puppet on strings. Despite this, he has a dream to fulfill, and he would do whatever it takes to achieve it—even if it meant forsaking his 'heart'. But pride always comes before the fall. He could never ever write over fatalism.

✤platonic angst :) ✤we're going to break him all over yall

“Awaken.” commanded the Electro Archon as the heavens growled.

The violet pool within the golden laver swirled, the entwined hands coruscating with a divine spark of Electro. Her command was obeyed, and two pairs of eyes opened at the same time.

His birth was most unorthodox. Disparate in the sense that he wasn’t born of flesh and blood, but of methods inexplicable to human comprehension—even to him.

It began with a tranquility like no other, enclosed in a spacious black void in which no other creature lived but his consciousness. But in that cloister of nothingness, he felt safe, he felt a closeness to something he couldn’t pinpoint. The contiguity would be ascertained soon after he heard an obdurate voice calling- ordering him to be roused from slumber.

So he did.

And he bore sight to his creator, his mother, the Electro Archon, as she regarded him with a countenance that spoke little of what she felt. Her hand upon his forehead was warm, but her eyes withheld an everlasting winter that bespoke of no potential summers.

She murmured something under her breath before withdrawing her hand and turning her back for a moment. An inauspicious action.

This churn of discomfort was set aside upon recognizing the same warmth somewhere on his limbs and he followed its origin. With a short incline of his head and a twist to the left, he blinked.

There were two sets of long tables, occupied by two figures, him included. His left arm was outstretched to the side, dipped into a gilded laver that contained a liquid tinted with violets that reminded him of his creator’s eyes. It shimmered and emitted a sense of divine power.

But what kept his hand warm in the cold pool was the hand of another.

Her gaze upon him was a mirror of his own upon hers. She spoke not with her tongue but her [c] eyes, and he too, did the same. They were parallel to one another, distant yet entwined by their fingers that had the same length, down to the fingertips.

They were both without a name, without a defined personality. Canvases that were white and stark, hoping to be filled with color. Hoping to be a magnum opus.

He wouldn’t be able to utter anything in that moment, as they were then separated, whisked away by strangers that appeared to be of service to the Electro Archon. He would only see his mother and that girl he reckoned to be his twin sibling later in a privy room, where the tall woman would first come to his sibling, who dipped her head.

Her figure would close in on itself, glowing [c] until she became nothing but a small accessory floating upon their creator’s palm. It—his sister—had become tinier than his own hand.

“A pawn piece,” a voice came from the left, and a sly-looking woman with pink hair hummed. “How appropriate for you to liken her to one.”

“But of course,” responded his mother. “If the puppet is to hold the Gnosis, then I must first see if he can handle something in its likeness. She holds at least half of the power, and for that I see no reason not to shape her as a pawn. I surmise it is the only piece in the board untouched by the Heavenly Principles.”

The foxy woman smiled impishly as she concluded. “For though pawns are capable of attaining majesty, they are still expendable.”

“Precisely. Now..”

The Electro Archon came upon him, her violet gaze stormy and steely as she neared the floating ‘pawn piece’ closer to his chest. “May your being be emboldened by that which is meant to be your core; a prototype heart of power.”

Like congealed water, the piece disappeared through his clothes, into his skin, and into his very being. What previously was a mere accessory took a different shape in his consciousness, and he felt whole.

Complete. It was a feeling like no other.

Raiden Ei hummed, satisfied at the sight of the spark of life in the puppet’s eyes. “So it has worked.”

“A good thing, isn’t it?” Yae Miko questioned, her tail swaying leisurely at her back. “But her very case is a pseudo-power half of what is authentic, no?”

“Yes and no.” The little puppet did not understand what they were speaking of, there was only the innate kind of euphoria provided by the comfort of the pawn piece within him—his own heart. It was his twin sibling, his other source of power, if he managed to comprehend the conversation correctly.

He felt full, like when he first opened his eyes and saw his mother. Felt safe, when he saw that his birth was in synchronicity with his heart.

So when the hand plunged back into his chest like nothing to retrieve the small pawn, it felt as though he was engulfed in a banquet's inferno. His limbs lit with flames and it was difficult to get a grasp of his environment, mind befuddled, voice lost.

He could barely see the way the priestess scrutinized him as a different item was thrust into his chest.

It was bigger and weighed much more. It was a heart that thrummed with so much divinity and power that he turned statuesque in its glory. The difference was profound.

His little heart—his twin, rather—held a peace akin to a nest of comfort, but the heart his mother had newly provided was laden with somber wisdom. He sensed not the presence of the girl who bore only the slight likeness to him, but he felt that of a different one, kind and prudent, yet desolate with life. It was so much that it brought tears to his eyes.

And thus, with a sharp, narrowed look of his creator, the decision was set in stone.

Not even a fortnight—no, a fortnight was most generous. Not even a week, and they’ve been forsaken.

“I need not a vessel whose gaze was more scrupulous than callous. He isn’t fit for the purpose I built him for.”

Haunting words.

“And what of the nexus you built with him? Essentially, they are one.”

Sickening truths.

“... She is a prototype I am not disposed to confine, either.”

Vexing failures.

Reminders of the reason as to why he had pursued this path. Too many betrayals, too many faux promises, and too little mercy in a world that was filled with naught but the evil end of the spectrum.

The puppet clicked his tongue as he gazed upon the lacerations on his skin, his clothes torn and tattered, fringed off the hems with licking flames. He stared at the remnants, condemning the beasts inwardly with a series of curses only unfortunate peers ever had the tragedy of knowing.

“Closer,” he murmured as the mob dispersed, only for another horde to approach. “Closer, and closer..” to greatness.

The Abyss was even more ruthless than the surface world of Teyvat, yet he found the darkness within it reminiscent of the void that came before his creation. He ignored the sting of his injuries and opted to gird himself with the beckon of power.

“Don’t push yourself.” the warning was in his head, but it sounded as if the voice came from behind him, always in his shadow. “I can’t have the Doctor poking needles into you as though you’re a labrat again.”

Funny, isn’t that what he was to that man, anyway? Besides, that sort of event happened each time he returned from his expeditions and battles in the Abyss.

“Kunikuzushi.” the voice was stern.

“Fine.”

He always meant to go overboard, that was a metier fit only for someone of his constitution. Fragile and enervated humans couldn’t hold a candle to his sturdiness as a puppet, and it was primarily this facet of his existence that corroborated his mileage to the Fatui.

So, he welcomed it with open arms, for he knew this path, though toilsome and arduous, would pave the road to his fate as a god.

He had forgotten the exact length of his ‘tarry’ in the sinister Abyss, but the darkness was a close companion that he’d known for his whole life.

In the rare interludes in which there would be no scourge or cataclysm in his stygian ventures in the otherworldly realm, he would rest and allow the extent of his injuries to overwhelm him. Only then would there be an effulgent flicker in the suffocating coat of black, coming upon his will.

His twin sister embodied that light, as she was a creation more mystifying than he was in essence.

She was—as he recalled his creator called her—his heart, who awoke in his moment of sheer desperation when he tried to ask the Electro Archon for help many centuries ago, and who had been with him ever since.

Humans were born with one, and he was created with her in a similar aspect, and both their eyes opened at the same time.

A puppet with a heart.

Kabukimono and Nisemono.

Kunikuzushi and Kenkoroshi.

Names that undoubtedly would only stockpile on the other as they traversed this path to their shared dream.

His heart was his main source of power.

Yes, he was strong on his own, but his sister was created from the godly power of Raiden Ei, emboldened by the influence of the Gnosis—the piece that was meant to be his. It meant that his sister was essentially a lesser version of the Gnosis, a facsimile—an imitation.

It was a connotation that conjured a frown on her usually blank face, but one that was wiped off with ease whenever Kunikuzushi would remind her that he was a literal puppet created in the likeness of their creator. There was a peculiar comradery in their shared existence as imitations, but that did not void their identities as ‘creatures of their own’.

Kunikuzushi would receive word from one of Harbingers themselves to return to Snezhnaya sometime later when he would be in one of his seldomly taken respites. The puppet would wordlessly stare at his hand, which was in the grasp of his twin sister, who had taken up a corporeal form to accompany him in the physical realm.

He never failed to assert that it wasn’t needed—for he could literally hear her voice in his head—, but she also never failed to exhort that accompanying him physically was a different kind of company in itself. He disliked how it was a sound reason, so he relented every time.

This mutually indulgent quietude was infrequently broken by either two, but it was fractured by the ‘pawn’ the second they arrived in Snezhnaya. Personally escorted by a handful of Fatui soldiers upon the Jester’s management following the order to return from the Abyss, she tugged away at his sleeve.

“Something weighs the wind.”

During times like these, when she would speak in riddles and figures, the puppet would be less than enthused, yet he humored her. It was inexplicable, but his twin always seemed to have some kind of prescience.

“It doesn’t feel dangerous, though.” Ah, so that meant it was something good.

Kunikuzushi could not help the snark in his voice as he responded. “I’m disposed to believe that you’re lying in the face of our ‘life’s’ usual pessimism. When has anything remotely good ever come to stay?”

“This one will, perhaps.”

It was unnecessary to tone down their voices, even though their peers regarded them with puzzlement. Why should they? No one would understand the context of their conversation, anyway.

The factuality of Kenkoroshi’s presage would be ascertained in a castle bespeckled with the rigidity of snowflakes. Diamond flakes annealed with solemn ‘love’, sharpened as though to appear like icy dirks, yet refined as if they also symbolize frozen tears.

The loveless motherland of Snezhnaya was a wintery Kingdom he had only come to at least once or twice. Little did he know, as his twin retreated back into the pawn piece in his chest, that he’d later be acclimated to the snow that was as pale and bleak as his perspective of life.

“You are hereby appointed as the Sixth Harbinger, take upon a new name as Scaramouche, the Balladeer.”

Ah. So that was what the entourage was for.

The Tsaritsa was with the voice of a daemon, yet the undertone withheld the echo of a lamenting cherub. Time was scant to bother wondering over why—after all, it wasn’t like it was a responsibility or duty of his to answer to the Cryo Archon’s emotions. He was yet to even cross his own quagmires.

His inauguration as the Sixth Harbinger, the Balladeer, was well-received and esteemed within the Fatui, but he had no doubts that it was because it was mere pleasantries. The rest of the Harbingers could hardly be impressed, but that was his own personal conjecture, for they showed probable facades that probably belied their ennui.

The celebration lasted a week, and he came to admit the complication in adjusting to the sudden attention brought with the bestowment of a rank he had come to travail over.

On the eve of its final day, he was ‘alone’ in his personal quarters that were leagues above what he was used to. Or perhaps he should rephrase that and mention that it had been a long time since he had chambers he could call his own, one that supposedly matched the majesty of his identity.

The last time he had something of this splendor, he was still on the watch of the Electro Archon, and that lasted less than five days.

What an irritating reminder.

“Is this everything you sought for?” as always, Kenkoroshi’s hand was void of any kind of temperature–she was insipid in a literal fashion, and it wasn’t meant to vilify her existence as an imitation.

For a moment, Kunikuzushi—no, Scaramouche, was quiet.

It had been a long and exhausting week of celebration, no matter the novelty and pride it brought him to be able to reach such a monumental stone in his ‘life’.

He looked down at the hand on his own, finding [not admitting] the gesture comforting. It was a reticent gesture between them, to just hold hands whenever they were alone—it was homage to their ‘birth’, when they awoke to an unknown world.

They had nothing, no knowledge, just the hand of the other and their presence and existence split as two but deemed as one.

“No.” He answered later, “I wish for what was meant to be mine.”

The Gnosis.

In a fleeting moment, he sensed her slight tension before it was easily awashed with her usual nonchalance. “... Why do you covet it so much?”

He scoffed. That was a stupid question, why else would he want something that was his in all putative angles of logic and reason? He was solely created for it.

“My purpose—no, my destiny. It was mine, that power.”

“And my power is not enough for you?”

Snezhnayan winters were algid—bone-chilling. Albeit he was far too acclimated to such temperatures and was far from being bothered, he could feel its biting frost on his skin, still. It was something that a measly hearth in the far left of his chambers could ever hope to drub.

Yet the question that she asked sent a chill down his spine. She asked it with the same, monotonous delivery, but for some reason, it sounded much heavier in his conscience. He despised it.

“Adequate enough.” He deigned to respond, their hands motionlessly entwined, still. “Enough to last until my birth as a god.”

There was no response. He despised that, as well.

For the first time that night, he turned to her—only to find her [c] gaze pointed towards the crackling flames of the hearth. He almost heard the crisp sound of burning wood and could almost smell the scent of burning flesh, but that was a memory in the crevices of his mind. Imageries and sounds that forego his mission to be divine.

“You’ll help me, won’t you, my dear twin.” there wasn’t exactly venom in his voice, just a poignant edge that prompted the [c]-haired pawn to look at him. When she said nothing again, he clicked his tongue.

“Kenkoroshi.” he admonished.

Finally, she answered.

“I will.” He could tell that it was genuine, it just took her some time to respond.

Good. With that, he turned away, and she did as well, though their hands remained connected. It wasn’t sooner when he spoke again, his tone carrying a sense of realization and pride altogether.

“We’ve to think of a new name for you. I’ve already taken up another. Any grand ideas?”

Silence. He wasn’t surprised. He was the one that offered to establish themselves with new names each time they decided to leave a piece of unwanted tragedy behind, so it came to perspicuous reason that he was to do the honors again—

“[Name].” in awe, he turned to her. “I’ll go with [Name].”

The astonishment would’ve lasted had she worn an actual expression on her face. He did not give any sort of critique about her chosen name, however. He simply nodded, testing the name on his tongue.

“Good.” he squeezed her hand. “A new chapter burns bright. One step closer to the finale.”

Their work was cut out as a Harbinger, although, technically speaking—[Name] wasn’t the Harbinger. Missions for the Tsaritsa and her endeavors proceeded without fail, and under those zealous quests, she was aware that the Harbingers had personal assignments of their own.

It was ostensible in an organization like the Fatui, she knew, that people’s interactions were transactions in their own right. Her twin brother preferred to intuit it the same way, in contrast to her own beliefs. When she told him of this, that she thought that there needn’t be any ulterior motives to causeries, he rolled his eyes.

“I looked at the world similarly once.. Look where that landed us.” he had sardonically quipped, and the conversation ended there.

Still, even with the facts transfixed, the way she conceived things did not change. It was to the chagrin of her sibling, but he did little to dissuade her from thinking otherwise—for she knew that as long as it wasn’t an impediment to his goal, he’d let her do and think as she pleased.

He was bitter about it, though, later on mumbling that the ‘ginger-head war addict’ must’ve influenced her. He spoke of Tartaglia, the young soldier who somehow found and believed that there could be goodness in a league that founded morally questionable coups and schemes, the pawn noted.

Although she never truly met the youth who eventually came to be promoted as the Eleventh Harbinger face to face—her existence wasn’t broadcasted for the entire organization to know—maybe, she thought, maybe she was influenced a tad.

Or perhaps she always was just meant to be on the spectrum in opposition to her twin.

It had always been that way since the start of their lonesome ventures and idiosyncrasies about the nation of Inazuma.

When he had gotten jaded over the betrayals the world had thrown them in, he swore to scrub every trace of emotion that stained him until not even vestiges could be sensed. Yet, here he still was, the one who felt emotions the most. It was not to disregard the fact that she could also feel, but rather, he was just a feelings-kind of puppet and there was nothing wrong with that.

Scaramouche said that it was because he had her, his heart, so he could feel.

[Name], ever circumspect, was worried—but she knew it to be true. If he had no heart, if he just had power, then what would he be like? She didn’t want to imagine it.

What, exactly? Didn’t want to imagine him without a heart? Or didn’t want to imagine him with all the power he could ask for? She didn’t know, either, and that in itself was frightening.

He assured that he would not get rid of her, however, he always did—for they were twins, they were two beings as one. Kabukimono and Kunikuzushi said it himself, and she took comfort in that.

But a wise man knew better. Someone, a third party guided and led by pragmatism and reason, stated otherwise.

“While it is true that you were created as an expendable tool, even the most churlish will know that your power is valuable.”

[Name] merely shook her head, her legs swinging absently as she sat on a rather tall, metal table that surely must’ve felt cold to most humans. “I’m not interested in your spiel, sir. Spare me the talk.”

The Doctor was that wise man, Dottore, the Second Harbinger. From the start, he had been fascinated by their existence as one being split in two, and whether he was intrigued by which one if specificity was in context, well, she didn’t know.

He unnerved her; his wisdom, his tact, and his rationales.

“Come now, there’s no harm in being honest, is there? The Balladeer isn’t awake.”

She didn’t like how he somehow knew how to transfix ideas through her head, a feat none other than Kabukimono could do. The former was a formidable man, and she had forgotten how many times she expressed that to the puppet.

“I would not have furthered this level of strength without Dottore’s pricking needles,” he had told her before. “So just put up with it.”

Kabukimono was powerful with her, but the Doctor unsealed the hidden strength—that was a truth that she could not deny. So, as advised, she tolerated the Sumerian. Her patience was running thin, however.

The number of Dottore’s laboratories exceeded the amount of fingers a human had. Throughout her time in the Fatui, she had gone to visit them all, and aside from the location of each tool and table, the interior looked ever the same—not to mention the scent of rubbing alcohol and antiseptic. Nowadays, or ever since he had unlocked the full capacity of Kunikuzushi’s powers, it carried the scent of something inexplicable.

It might’ve come from the odd, violet substances she always saw him inject into her sibling.

“You may try to hide under that expressionless facade, but I know you are just as emotional. Not even he knows that, does he?”

The Doctor’s footsteps reverberated in the silent laboratory, coupled with the clinks and clanks of the tools in the metallic tray beside the equally metallic table.

She ignored him, opting to regard the place where Kunikuzushi laid to act as some kind of distraction. To Sandrone, it was an inventing table as much as it was a dissecting one. She mentioned that the names differ with purpose, so if she were to account that into the present, then was it something akin to an inventing table??

The Doctor stopped in front of her, and since her line of sight was pointed to the floor, she was staring at his neatly shined footwear. By then, with him up front, she knew there was no use in blocking out whatever he wished to blabber about.

“It’s precisely the reason why he exploits your power. Because someone who can’t ‘feel’ is therefore less apt to act out on sentimental grounds. They simply obey—like a tool.”

Ah, if he meant to incite something by means of depreciating—more like likening—her existence to her twin sibling, then it was unlikely to work. From the genesis of it all, she already knew who she was. What she was. It came with innate acceptance, so there was no way she’d ever think of herself as more than that; a tool.

“Because that is my purpose for living, to be used as his source of power.”

“Purpose for living or existing? There’s a difference.” Of course, the Doctor always had a rebuttal, and they were eloquent. “Are you truly alive?”

A good question to ruminate over; was she alive? She was, but was she living or existing?

The answer, albeit unsaid, was reticent between them. She was simply existing because she came to this world as such. Beyond the names and purposes she had been given, there was nothing of her own will. Or at least, nothing that extended beyond her will to serve as a means of power.

There was nothing wrong with that… she liked to believe.

It was like being a Vision to a Vision-holder.

The sight of the Doctor’s feet ambling away recaptured her attention, and so, she looked up for once. She glanced at him with his hands at his back, his steps taken leisurely as he wandered about the cold, sterile laboratory. She wished she hadn’t though, for it seemed like he knew whenever someone looked at him, for he tilted his head to meet her eyes with a small, sharp smile.

“You mention being more than fine with being used, but I doubt that it doesn’t bother you, not when you know of his objective.”

He turned to her and she stiffened.

“You don’t wish to see him be a god, am I correct, [Name]?”

The place grew even colder than it normally was.

She felt as though she was being adjured and criticized at the same time as the Doctor detoured to traipse back to her location upon the table next to the sleeping figure of the Balladeer. Subconsciously, she scooted closer to the latter, his presence her sanctuary, be it awake or not.

Her lacking response seemed only to serve as reason for him to continue and oh—

“Because once the Gnosis is fully in his hands, then he will have no use for you anymore. And you don’t want that, no?”

—how she hated it.

“Be quiet.” she mumbled.

He did not stop. “As far as I know, the Electro Archon created both of you at the same time; him, in the likeness of your mother, but to be a vessel. And you, in the likeness of a Gnosis, you are his heart…”

“Be quiet.” she demanded, this time transferring her gaze to her sleeping twin brother in dire hopes of the sight of him easing the turmoil in her chest. It was rare that she felt willful acrimony, as more often she was influenced by Kunikuzushi.

But now—now she felt its poignant swath within, which left no room to circumvent the intense emotion. The Doctor knew this, of course, he always knew when anyone’s buttons were pressed, it was in his repertoire of endless moxies.

“... A heart that he’ll willingly cast aside in favor of reclaiming true divinity.” he whispered close to her ear and she snapped.

“I said be quiet!”

Dottore retreated with a smile as he felt an invisible shockwave cleave through the atmosphere, distorting space itself. His laboratory, which was pristine and kempt a mere second ago was now in complete disarray. Broken test tubes and glass lay scattered, metallic tables and shelves were capsized, and charts and papers were either torn or a mess.

Tiny zips and zaps of electricity surrounded [Name], ensconced by the power that was created in imitation of a true Gnosis. It flickered and jolted like a shield, warning the Doctor not to take a step further—ah, she was an elaborate picture of power. Her [c] hair floated all around her figure, [c] eyes gone, replaced with stark white. It looked like she could float off the ground at any moment or launch things to her will.

He understood thoroughly her ability, despite being ‘faux’. It was the power the Balladeer often harnessed.

A power that still held hidden potential.

“Mother? Sister? There’s no such thing as familial bonds to a pawn and a puppet. It is as you said, you are just an expendable pawn.” he spoke, noticing how in spite of the destruction from her rare outburst, the table Scaramouche was laying on remained untouched.

Oh, how she cared for him. The Doctor grinned. Perfect.

“But I can make you greater than you are now.”

The gradual return of the pawn to her ‘docile’ state cemented his conjecture; he had her hook, line, and sinker.

“What do you mean?”

[Name] was seldom swayed by promises. Compared to Kunikuzushi, she had always been a tad more cynical, but the Second Harbinger was a man of his word despite his devious and unscrupulous manner of handling affairs. She knew he was genuine—and that was what made his offer so tempting that she could not resist asking him to elaborate.

And he gladly did.

“I’ve only tapped and tinkered with the gears of your ‘twin brother’, and have unlocked a myriad of possibilities. What if I were to do the same unto you—his main power reserve? In theory, you will become far better than what you are now.”

He was not vigilant, he was far too complacent as he trailed his steps back to her, his towering figure peering down from his mask.

He snapped his fingers. “You mentioned that taking up a physical form and consciousness demands power from your very being, no? This means that if you seal your consciousness and become a simple pawn piece as you were originally created, then he will be able to use your power as freely as he wishes. Without thresholds.”

Sacrifice her consciousness and physical form to be a raw core of power-?

“You will be enough.” he added. “Don’t you want that?”

She sucked in a breath. “I..”

It was everything she wanted; being enough. To her chagrin, she was reminded of the night of her twin’s inauguration as the Sixth, in those chilly, chilly quarters where she took up a new name. She recalled asking the question she dreaded the most.

“And my power is not enough for you?”

She did not have a heart of her own, but she could easily grasp the emotion she always felt whenever she was with him in the aftermath of his tragedies; dread. Fear.

“Adequate enough.” his voice was still clear in her mind, “Enough to last until my birth as a god.”

That time, the world blanked out on her—she had so many things to say. So many things to ask.

When had he become so detached from their inherent bond to the point of saying without hesitance that he would disregard her as soon as his godly form was built? As soon as he was fit to centralize the Gnosis he had taken from their [mother] creator? They had been together for so long it was not even an exaggeration.

For centuries, through the names, there had been no one but her and him. And countless tragedies that shouldn’t be named.

Wasn’t it she that held him close when they awakened in the domain as he shuddered and cried when they realized that they were abandoned? Wasn’t it she that was with him through thick and thin, holding his delicate hand that refused to leave hers when Katsuragi and Niwa welcomed them in Tatarasuna? Wasn’t it she that accompanied him in the Abyss?

She, that promised that she would not let their story as twins be as tragic as the supposedly blessed encounters they had with humans.

[Name] had done her part, she had done exceedingly well, she knew. He even told her countless times. So why—why, why, why did he even begin to entertain the idea of casting her aside? It was unfair, it was unacceptable.

Ah! She was to blame.

There was bliss in ignorance, and she chose to be willfully ignorant. Ever since the death of the child that succumbed to Tataragami, he burned and charred the ambitions he usually had. She remembered watching the little doll in his likeness turn into ash and couldn’t help but assimilate it to him.

For in a way, he and the little doll were one and the same.

Except, the little toy doll had no heart of silver, but Kunikuzushi had one; her.

She had refused to believe it then, but the moment he denounced emotions, he denounced her existence. Sure, it wasn’t her that directly influenced how he felt, because even without her in his chest he could still feel—but in essence, wasn’t that the ability of a heart?

To make one feel? So when he anathematized emotions, he condemned her willfully.

Shared dream?

No, it was but a mere bandaid to swathe over her insecurity.

It was only her dream because it was her twin’s. There was only one thing that they shared—the same fear of abandonment. Kunikuzushi had grown strong, he chose not to consort with humans any longer for they were the progenitors of their angst and pain. It would no longer hurt if he was the one to shut down and do the abandonment.

Where did that leave her?

The signs were all present ever since the Doctor and the Jester gave him a place in the Fatui organization, in a land of loveless frost. He was set on obtaining the Gnosis, set on becoming a power of pure and utter authentic divinity like he was meant to be.

And that path did not include her, because she was a simple imitation with a power that was only half the legitimacy of the Gnosis’ power.

He sought more, and that ‘more’ was something she could no longer provide—or so she thought.

“Well, [Name]?” she became aware of where she was at the moment and blinked.

For once, she was not doubtful nor fearful of the Doctor, she was hopeful. And it was a dangerous thing to feel around the guileful scholar, but at that very second, she did not care. In the face of a promise that would serialize and cement her future with her twin sibling, how could she start to care about anything else?

Power… she needed it to be enough.

If she was powerful enough, then he would not need to cast her away.

“I–”

There was shuffling from the other end of the room that prevented her from speaking further.

“What’s all the racket for?” Kunikuzushi was waking up with that permanent scowl on his face, his eyes briefly glimpsing the mess that was the laboratory. He looked confused, but not enough to warrant his actual concern. “What, an experiment gone wrong?”

“No. The doctor just got clumsy.” [Name] responded stiffly as she turned to walk over to the Sixth Harbinger.

The Doctor nodded, raising his hands. “My hands do get rather shaky sometimes.”

A stupid lie that was.

Obviously, it did not work on Kunikuzushi, but he remained indifferent. The pawn knew that as long as it had nothing to do with him, then it did not matter.

She held his arms to steady him as he swung his legs off the table, but he shrugged her off. It was rude at worst and nonchalant at best, but with the pitiful memories fresh in her mind and the fear throbbing in her, it affected her immensely. Her fingers twitched.

He did not notice as he gruffly said, “I can walk fine on my own.”

He could and he did. He was stronger. During the first line of experiments he was put through, he required her assistance to get by, but he didn’t now. Did he remember, or was she the only one who relived those times?

Who am I kidding? She thought with a lump in her throat as he passed by her without so much as a second glance. He dares not think about episodes that entail any of his weaknesses.

He had grown so much during the course of the centuries, and he had developed a zealous attitude that was admirable as it was intimidating. Intimidating and fearful on her side, because she knew she was shackled on borrowed time.

Wordlessly, she followed after the Sixth Harbinger, her head kept straight despite the weight she felt that tempted her to look down. As she passed by, Dottore’s words were quiet, serving to be heard by no one else but the one who had the need to hear it.

“Think about my offer, will you?”

She did think about it. In fact, nothing else had been in her mind except for the offer he proposed; a promise of power. Whilst accepting it may not vouch for her stay as her twin’s heart, it presented a chance.

And to her, a chance was all she needed.

“Kunikuzushi,” she called one day after he had overlooked the progress of building his godly form, Shouki no Kami. She had been in his mind when she spoke, and could not deny the sting of alarm when he regarded her with frustration, demanding what it was she required.

“Scaramouche.” he corrected.

She conceded. “Scaramouche.”

He had been rather perturbed the last few days because of the Traveler, but that aside, he was delighted. She could feel him agog with the idea of finally claiming the Gnosis, of finally being dubbed a rightful deity.

“Must you really seek the Gnosis?” she questioned without tact. No beating around the bush, just a direct question, which surprised him, she knew.

The puppet stopped in his tracks, the shadows cast by the sunset across the colonnade enshrouding him in its twilit curtain. Over the centuries he had been with his sibling, not once had she asked about their shared dream. He thought nothing of it, but he was oddly irked that she did—perhaps it was because of the Traveler that she did.

[Name] always was the most acquiescent between them. He wouldn’t be surprised if the Traveler’s spiel about morality had managed to dent her thinking process.

“What do you think?” he remarked, resuming his steps. “The Gnosis is my objective for the last hundred years. Do you think I’d replace it for anything else when I am one step closer to reaching my goal?”

There was silence in his head. For the last few days, [Name] had been quiet, there was nothing new to that, but her current muteness was unsettling.

The bitterness within him gyrated his thoughts and spun them negatively, but before he could speak, she already beat him to it.

“If I’m powerful enough,” he did not like where that phrase was going. “... if I’m powerful enough, will you not take the Gnosis?”

A look of incredulity arose from his expression as he proceeded to traipse towards the workshop, the towering gears and turning wheels welcoming his arrival.

“Do you realize how ridiculous that question is, [Name]? I’ve been created for the Gnosis, it was my destiny to seize.” his words were acerbic and factual, but why would that matter when it was the truth? Besides, [Name] was used to it. There was no need to worry.

“Besides,” he gruffly stated as the elevator took him up to the next level where his godly form awaited, powered by the Electro Gnosis. “We both know you’re a mere imitation of the Gnosis, your power is only ‘half of what is authentic’, a pseudo-power, if you will. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten that?”

“I haven’t..” her voice was tiny, but it was firm.

“Good.”

He huffed as he was brought to the top floor, wherein he was greeted with the mighty mechanical form that he will soon occupy. The Sages that have turned from their pitiful Dendro Archon were already present, alongside the Doctor, who passed a small wave of formality.

Of course she wouldn’t forget that piece of crucial information, it was the very definition of her being; a tool used for empowerment.

He began to walk towards his future, but with each step he took, he found it heavy to press on. His eyebrows furrowed and his chest twisted. There was only one explanation for such sensations and he knew what it was and where it was coming from.

“Where will I go when you acquire the Gnosis?” her next question made it harder to walk forward. “What will happen to me, Kunikuzushi?”

“Don’t call me that.” he gritted his teeth.

The Sages and the Doctor were too preoccupied with whatever conversation they were having to notice his balking. Whatever—he preferred it that way.

His voice low, he proceeded to snap. “And how am I supposed to know? We may be twins, but we’re two different beings. I’m not in charge of delegating what you wish to concern yourself with after I become a god. Do whatever you want.”

His body felt cold.

“We’re not different,” she protested. “I’m your heart. I’m a part of you.”

“Then do you support me gaining a new Gnosis?” he asked. “If we are one and the same, then my ideals are yours and so are my dreams. Tell me, do you want me to be a god to fulfill that dream?”

Silence. The world was slow as he waited, unbreathing.

When the answer came, he was not surprised—not any longer.

“I still want to stand with you.”

It was not a direct answer to his question, but given that he had known her for so long, he knew the implication she endeavored to convey through those equivocal words. To this, he laughed sardonically, feeling his chest twist in some kind of bitter acquiescence.

“In other words,” he chuckled. “No, you don’t want me to be a god. You want me to remain shackled to your inadequate power when you know that I seek more?”

“I can be stronger!” her voice rose in his head and he faltered in genuine surprise. Not once had he ever heard her raise her voice. But that awe gave way for resentment.

Scaramouche balled his hands into fists, feeling his anger rise and bubble. There was no use in hiding it because this conversation was pointless! From the moment he burned that child’s house down and left everything in the ashes of time, he had made up his mind—he was resolute in becoming a true deity.

They both knew what that implied.

“Even if you can, you’re just a phony Gnosis.” the words cut and stung, he knew. He was not reviling her in any way because it was the cold, hard truth. “Why else would she create you in the likeness of a measly pawn piece in the chessboard?”

“Even pawns are capable of attaining majesty!” ah, yes, Guji Yae said that herself, that even pawn pieces could be Queens and any other stronger pieces upon reaching theend of the board, but this was no chess game.

It did not remove in essence, the fact that his twin’s power was not authentic. There was no ‘end of the board’ for her to reach—this was her limit and they both knew that.

Baring his teeth, the Balladeer trudged on despite the heaviness in his chest weighing him down. He refused to be swayed by a sentimental sibling. Zealous in his steps, he disregarded the growing feel of dread for he knew it was not his emotion, but his twin’s.

It was a sickening feeling and he despised it, so he forwarded with zero hesitation.

“Quit it. All I hear is my own twin sister refusing to let me achieve the dream I’ve always chased after.”

He had hoped they would be on the same page—after all, hadn’t it always been the world against them? Them against the world? It left a hollow feeling inside and he swore he felt his eyes burn, but he did not succumb to such a pathetic weakness. He wasn’t a human, nor did he want to be.

“Our dreams were meant to be shared.” he heard her voice falter. “We were meant to work together.”

He never thought her to be this sentimental. But he supposed that after that conversation they had a few days ago, she was more inclined to feeling emotions just as he was [forcibly].

The Doctor welcomed him as he stopped in front of them, his hat tipped down to obscure his expression from their prying eyes. He answered his twin sibling sullenly, in a mere whisper.

“Yeah, I thought so, too.”

“Kabuki—”

The Balladeer thrust his hand in his chest, retrieving the pawn piece—his sister—from the spacious dimension within him. Immediately, her voice ceased to exist in his mind and all was silent. Withdrawing, he looked at the small item in his hand, glowing a faint [c], as if urging, insisting—begging him to return her where she belonged.

But he could no longer look at it with distant fondness. Now, there was only betrayal.

I thought so, too. He repeated his own defeated response in his head as the Doctor stepped forward.

“It’s time, Balladeer.” Dottore smiled.

The puppet looked up at him, then back at the pawn piece, which he gripped tightly in one hand, as if willing himself to shatter it into pieces—but he did not. He realized that, even with her gone, his chest was hollow. But that did not matter, for he would soon be filled with a power that could void the emptiness inside.

“I know.” he scowled, pocketing the faux Gnosis as the Sages adjusted the mechanical body, opening the cockpit which held a number of tubes and other small equipment.

He stepped into it as the familiar aura of the Electro Gnosis captured his attention, glimpsing it just in time before it was inserted in the center piece of the body that bore the insignia of Electro. He looked back as the Doctor spoke, though the latter’s line of sight seemed to be directed elsewhere on his person.

“We will begin the process. Are you prepared?” Dottore smiled placidly.

What a stupid question. It seemed like he was being bombarded with tons of it today, but no matter, for this coming dawn was to be a divine advent.

Scaramouche allowed his hand to fall beside him, subtly feeling the figure of the small piece of faux power in his pocket as he answered.

“Of course I am.”

He was awakened not as the perfidious Sixth Harbinger that had absconded his position, but as a newly born god. It was a dreamless sleep, filled with the thrum of divine power.

“Do you remember?” Cloaked from within the penumbra of a false sky, two beings stood—not quite human, yet capable of humanity, regardless.

One so refused to act on it, not any longer, at least. And the other remained in the grey.

The wind was howling with the nightly breeze of Sumeru, cold, and chilly, but it affected neither. A voice spoke, sounding blank. “I do not understand the need to tirelessly search for a heart… when you’re already capable of feeling, anyway.”

“Such outdated information, I don’t seek a heart any more.” Cut a voice so sharp the wind stopped. “I’m looking to crush these filthy emotions. You should, too.”

Silence. It wasn’t the uncomfortable kind, but it was tense with acquiescence, a muted clash of perspectives, ones demanding to be forced upon the other. The response came, sounding bland, if not defeated.

“No.”

That was the last proper conversation they had—it was annoying to recall such things, especially during a time when he was battling against the pesky Traveler who knew nothing but to scupper his plans.

He didn’t know why he would recall it now out of all times, as he heaved breath after breath, the power from the tubes slotted into the sockets of his back not enough to cement his victory.

“I don’t think I will.”

So annoying, so, so infuriating everything was. Everything be damned to hell.

He could almost see her stupid blank face in the back of his mind; he knew she would be disappointed, but when was she not? For someone who put emotions on such a pedestal, she knew only how to be dismayed by him. Well, good riddance.

“I quite like feeling.”

Good riddance, indeed, as the ginormous mechanical figure that housed a supposed god fell to its knees. What a weakling he was, putting himself above others who he deemed unfit for the world; humans who succumbed to desperation like a beggar to a coin.

Yet there he was, the same miserable picture of the puppet he swore to no longer be, hand outstretched towards a Gnosis meant to be his, but arbitrary fate deemed should never be.

The pain of hitting the ground was dull compared to the various other experiments he went through in all the years being a subject to the Doctor’s experiments—and though he thought his own consciousness would pity and leave him be, it did not.

Through the ringing of his ears, he heard Buer usher the damned Traveler elsewhere. And the fact that they did not once acknowledge his pitiful descent only went to show how he truly was a puppet strung along in the grand scheme of a play dolled up by the fate of this accursed world.

“Scaramouche.”

He could not move, no, he did not have the strength and will to move at the moment. His crushing defeat was like a torrent that swallowed him underwater, flooding his being and forcing him to think of nothing but it as he drowned further.

The Doctor’s figure as he hovered over him, like what a scientist would to a specimen, displayed the kind of hierarchy there currently was in the battlefield meant to be the location of his rise as a god.

A failed one.

“It may be difficult to see, what with your pitiful state right now, but you’re far from being average, are you not? So, you are still capable of response. Now tell me.” The man hovered something above his line of sight. “Is this familiar to you?”

He dared not to feel, he swore not to feel—yet he could not help the churn in his empty chest.

A pawn piece. Its homely [c] glow beckoned him to reach out to it, and he did so with a weak, trembling hand as he struggled against the lapse of his consciousness.

It was a reaction out of instinct—to grasp for something that was his, that belonged to him, that was a part of him.

But then it was whisked away and he swore it felt as though he crashed to the ground for the second time. He disliked the nagging trepidation in the back of his head as he shifted to adjust with all that he could, suddenly deeming the tubes that made him powerful a while ago now heavy, burdened with the reminder of his shameful defeat in a war that he began.

What on earth did that Harbinger planned to do? How was he able to take her?

He took her with him in his newly assembled form.

“Dottore…” his voice was weak and he hated it. “How..”

What was he going to do– what did he plan to-

The Doctor laughed as he stepped away with a flourish, gloved hand allowing the piece to float above his palm as he recounted a time of long ago.

“My word! But I thought you sought the bonafide power from an Archon and not from some prototype!” he grinned, “Didn’t you say… that you have no need for her? You fallen ‘god’?”

He wasn’t going to-

“Dottore-!”

“I’ve given you what you want, is it not only fair for me to take my share?” resumed the victor in this play.

And that measly reply was all that poor Scaramouche needed to understand what the Doctor intended to do.

The realization seized him like a serpent, and all of a sudden he loathed his nihilistic, pragmatic view that everything to the world was a simple transaction.

Yes, he wanted Dottore to make his dream a reality. But what did that spell in exchange?

[Name].

Hearing the puppet’s spasming breaths made Dottore huff. He initially had no plan to further taunt someone who was already so pitiful, but he could not resist the morbid pleasure it brought him; a puppet who was a puppet through and through.

Being a god was none other than a foolish position unfit for the latter in the first place.

The hand that shot to wrap around his ankle prevented him from taking another step, and instead of feeling irked, he was only amused.

“What desperation…” he commented.

Deciding to take things up a notch for his own entertainment, he bent on a knee over the piteous Scaramouche, the once great Balladeer, who was now in the shambles of his own mechanical body.

He had to commend him, for despite the obvious asthenia, the fire in those violet eyes were never snuffed out.

“You once wished to be a mortal with a heart, so enlighten me. Between the two of us, who is the closest thing to a weak human being now?” he allowed the piece to float closer to the loser, and he could see the natural effect it brought.

The Balladeer’s easing body, the slight serenity in his expression at the thought of being so close to the being he had with him from the very start…

… And the absolute desperation on his face when the Doctor pulled it away.

“Dottore!” ah, that scream of madness as he clawed the ground, breaths heaved between demands. “Do not… even think of laying a hand on her! She’s not yours! She’s—!”

“Yours, then?”

Dottore asked upon the shambled excuse of a god, the floating item in his possession that glowed a faint [c] and resembled a pawn piece in the chessboard being hidden into his coat.

Over his heart, where it throbbed the same color of [c], almost tauntingly.

“No…” he smiled, kicking off the clasp around his boot, and walking away. Leaving the puppet to the isolation he was so used to. “I don’t think you’ve any right to say that anymore.”

Truly, he wished to stay for a moment longer to watch the show of the desperate Balladeer, whose actions at the moment bespoke nothing of the menacing Harbinger he once was. But the desperation and agony of someone who was once just Kabukimono.

But alas! There were things to be done, and places he needed to go.

Agony—the ugly, distasteful twist of his chest was the sole reason for why he wanted to rid his emotions. To be a superior being incapable of it, for feelings were weak.

He no longer desired a heart, so he threw it away.

Yet at that moment, the godforsaken feeling of having let go brought about a pain and denial that no words could ever describe. He was helpless. Again. To the hands of fate and his own failure. Who was he to be mad, when he had been the one to forsake his heart?

It was beyond hypocritical if he were to ask for it back.

Oh, and where was he now? A measly bug on the cold stone floor.

On shaking arms, he attempted to push himself up. With nonexistent strength, he urged himself to move, but it was the very equipment engineered and produced by the Akademiya that reined him back like a literal puppet on strings—and he was soon crashing back to the floor. But he was nothing if not recalcitrant.

“No- no, don’t-” the consciousness he earlier begged to be taken away was doing its job, and he realized for certain that he would be rid of it.

To his utter desperation.

“Get back here, this isn’t what we agreed on… !”

Deep in the crevices of his mind there resounded the voice so raw with emotions he wished to burn. An ache—a defect in him that he could not, for the artificial life of him, destroy.

His chest hollowed as the Doctor went farther and farther away, carrying with him, the prototype heart he had replaced for the Gnosis.

Anything but her— no more- don’t take any more from me!

[How bastardous he was, to forsake her but in the end demand that she not be taken away from him? What irony.]

That time, he wanted nothing more but to curse everything and himself as he shook. With fear or anguish, he no longer knew.

The [c] glow he had been acclimated to over the centuries was vanishing, just like he wanted to, but now selfishly wanted to take back. Was it because he failed that he wanted her again? He didn’t know anymore—he was afraid to know.

Black spots bedecked his vision, the bile of emotions rising into his throat, threatening to spew in hysteria. Words died in his chest and his voice faded, but still, even with his fading consciousness, he dragged his body across the pavement, fixated on the Doctor’s back, who was now walking away.

Far.. far.. away.

Scaramouche, Kunikuzushi—Kabukimono raged and cried with a hand that could not reach for anything.

Not his goal of transcending into a deity.

Not his mother and creator, the Archon of Inazuma.

With the last of his consciousness and strength, he cried out. “[NAME]!!”

Not the heart he called his twin sister.

His hand fell and his consciousness left, leaving him in the swathe of familiar blackness. One that spoke without the company of the one who knew him most.

It wasn’t fair—this wasn’t fair.

But alas, perhaps fatalism had written that, even if he was far from being a powerfless human being, he could still do nothing to determine his own fate.

That of which included his desertion of his heart, his defeat, and the grand consequence to a dream he had ambitiously chased for himself.

a/n: boop. see you post-irminsul, boy.

also, mc's as "kenkoroshi" is made up of the kanji 剣 [ken/sword] and 殺し [koroshi/kill], so whilst kunikuzushi is literally country destroyer, i opted to have mc be named something that implies her nature as a weapon. 偽物 [nisemono], on the other hand, means 'fake'. or in fatalism context, she's a fake/imitation of a Gnosis.

This has been stewing in my mind for,, a year and a half? Finally out of the basement.

#m-fatalism #scaramouche angst #scaramouche x reader #genshin angst #wanderer angst #wanderer x reader #female reader #platonic angst strikes again

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cultofdixon · 1 year ago

Text

Pumpkin

Daryl Dixon [PLATONIC] • She/Her Pronouns • Never did Daryl expect to also be adopting a kid during the Savior’s War like Aaron. But here you are • ANGST/SFW • TW: Canon Violence / Separation Anxiety / Scars / Injuries / PTSD / Nightmares

Requested by: Anon

“You hear that?” Daryl asks Rick if he was hearing the sound he was hearing but the retired sheriff shook his head giving him a confused look while he held this baby they found. “Imma find it”

“Daryl we can’t stay long”

“Whatever! Won’t take me long” Never doubt the hunter with the best tracking skills out of their entire group.

The archer did one last sweep of the area they were in where they found the baby. Daryl checked the nursery once more before it clicked. The closed door which he only assumed was a closet, had the sounds of something sobbing. He opened the door to reveal the little girl crying while covering her head as he was fixated on the fact that she looked hurt. She looked as bad as he did when he escaped the Sanctuary. When she heard the door open she looked up at him with tears as she retracted into the small space when Daryl knelt to her level.

“…Uh…I’m Daryl, it’s not safe to stay here anymore” He didn’t really know what to say to her. “I can take yea somewhere safe”

The small child looked at him once more with that questioning look filled with doubt as Daryl extended a hand toward her.

“I just want you safe, pumpkin” and those words led to her hesitation but eventual acceptance of the extended hand.

A few months passed and Alexandria was thriving once again after its hyper focus on the rebuild. The communities were now working together to help each other thrive and still have a few things floating around regarding the Sanctuary in terms of someone should watch it now. But in the moment, that didn’t matter.

The archer was enjoying the peaceful morning of sleeping in…nothing was asked of him, yet, and he was just enjoying a good sleep without any interruption.

Until an interruption managed to get the door to his room open with the help of a milk crate to get the handle. Daryl heard the creak of the door opening and opened one eye to see what it was, only to hide his face in his pillow as the small child he saved approached the side of the bed tossing her stuffed animal onto the bed.

As she struggled to get onto the bed by herself, she noticed him hiding his face knowing at this point he would’ve helped her.

“Daddyyyy…” She whined, knowing he’s listening to her as she stopped trying to climb into the bed and went to grab her stuffed animal but it was quickly swiped by the archer. “Daddy!”

“Ok ok, Y/N, I’ve gotcha” Daryl lifts his head and upper half a bit, enough to lean over the side of the bed helping her up. “Sorry pumpkin” he gave her space to lay in the bed with him while returning her plush.

“Why are you still sleepy?” Y/N asks as she hugged her stuffed animal, a dog, before laying down.

“Cuz I have a ball of energy for a daughter to deal with at night” Daryl smiles as she gasps with a smile of her own even if she was blamed jokingly. “Why are you up? You usually sleep in longer than me, bug”

“The possum is back” Y/N refers to the pesky creature that rummages through the bushes outside of her window at the most random times of the day or night. Today just having to be in the morning. Her only knowing it was a possum because of it catching Daryl off guard one night when he didn’t have his crossbow.

“I’ll take care of it, sweetheart” He reassures her that he’ll take care of it so she’d be able to continue sleeping next time. “Still sleepy or should we start our day already?”

“Can we visit Aunt Carol?”

“For breakfast? Won’t be breakfast time no more when we get to her” Daryl sat up in the bed watching his kid roll off it with a harsh thud making him quickly look over to check but she was already getting up like nothing happened.

“Can we go anyway?”

“Is there a reason to want to see Aunt Carol?”

“Can’t Aunt Carol be a reason?” Y/N smiles warmly up at Daryl as he couldn’t say no to her.

“I’ll make yea breakfast, and we’ll have lunch with her. Okay?” Daryl smiles watching her excitement write itself on her face as she quickly ran out to go get dressed for the day while he picked up his radio to get on the channel with Carol’s.

________

“Daryl what?”

“Has a kid” Rick tells Carol after they were leaving the field where the Saviors met their end as she was shocked to hear this news. “Like. He found a kid when we also found Gracie. The one Aaron’s taking into his care. The little one wouldn’t leave him alone once she was brought to the Hilltop”

“So he unintentionally adopted a kid?”

“I mean yea. What other way is there to put it?”

“Is he okay? Is the kid okay?”

“The kid was pretty banged up when he found her. He didn’t say much to me when I first saw him with her but the way the two kinda…held onto the other…they were attached”

“Well I’m heading to the hilltop and should see for myself. As for you, you should clean up your mess” Carol refers to the Negan mess of keeping him alive while separating from him to head toward the Hilltop.

Once it became night and those who were opposed to Rick’s decision on Negan’s meeting adjourned…Carol followed Daryl after such to find him picking up a sleeping child from the couch about to head to an unoccupied trailer when his friend stopped him.

“Who is that” She whispered and Daryl glared at her only for stopping him causing him to jerk and the little one almost waking to such. “Sorry”

“Just. Come on” He whispers back heading toward a trailer for them to talk but also for him to get the kid comfortable.

As Daryl got situated on the bed with the kid fast asleep, head in his lap and he was readjusting the blanket on her sleeping form. He gave Carol a look to ask what she wants to ask but also keep quiet.

“Are you adopting her?”

“Yeah”

“Just like that? Are you ready for that after all that—-“

“You should’ve seen her before I patched her up. Poor thing must’ve been going through somethin’ at the Savior’s outpost that obviously got overlooked”

“Daryl don’t dodge—-“

“I’m gonna care for her regardless of your worry about me. Kids change people. It happens. Not that I was looking for that exactly but it just. Fell into my hands…” Daryl frowns looking at the child thinking to way before the outbreak. YEARS before. “When I saw her. It just. Clicked somehow. That I needed to do this.”

“Well—-“

“Carol if yer gonna—-“

“Shush!” She silently exclaims when she noticed the child stir in her sleep making them both go quiet until they relaxed. “If you’re going to do this. Be her dad and all. I’m going to help you whether you like it or not. Just until you can handle it yourself”

“Fair…that’s fair” He whispers softly rubbing circles on her small back. “Her name’s Y/N. She had told me when I took her here…she cried when I told her I had to go a moment. But I promised her I’d come back and when I did…she just cried again and held onto me for a while. But it wasn’t out of fear or anything”

“You promised her, and kept it D.” Carol smiles at the two for a moment. “You’re already making her feel safe”

________

Y/N sat at the bottom of the stairs slipping her boots on with the goofiest smile on her face. Excited to see her aunt and a few others that make her day.

“Need help tying them, pumpkin?” Daryl asks coming down the stairs behind her as she looks up at him followed with a nod. “Alright. I’ll help with one and yea do the other”

The archer brought himself to kneel before his kid taking one foot to rest on his knee. He started to tie it seeing her attention fixated on the laces for a moment before drawing it to the knock on the door.

“Any guesses on who that might be?”

“Pick”

“Rick. With an R”

“Rick” Y/N smiles struggling to tie her own shoe as her relaxed expression went to hyper focus with a little tongue poke. Daryl laughs a bit to himself as she finally got it when he went to open the door. “Uncle Pick!”

“Rick—-“ Daryl corrects. “Whatcha need?”

“Heard through the grapevine yall are headed to the Kingdom. I gotta talk to the King was wondering if I can tag along” Rick asks with a bit of a smirk knowing Daryl can’t tell him ‘no’ out of annoyance because of his kid. His overwhelmingly nice kid. Who would argue in her own way with his decisions.

“Fine. But yea talk anythin’ I ain’t comfortable with, I’m kicking you out” Daryl made clear before remembering to get his kid’s coat knowing she would forget it.

The second he left, Y/N locked eyes with Rick gripping her shirt nervously as she took a few steps back debating on following her dad or trying to keep her ground.

“How are you, sweet pea?”

“good…” She mumbles as Rick kneels in front of her with a worried expression on his face.

“Your daddy knows I didn’t mean to scare yea the other night. I just…hope yea understand” He frowns watching her step back once more, standing up when he heard Daryl clear his throat only to be met with a glare. “Y’know I’m sorry”

“Yeah but don’t try and force one out of my daughter” Daryl frowns for only a second as it fades when he looks at Y/N seeing her smile return. “Arms up, pumpkin” he states watching her do so as he helps her get her coat on. “Alright. Come on”

The small child went sprinting out the door once Daryl opened it as he chuckles slightly before stepping out with Rick behind. Y/N knew to go to the cars by the gate as she was greeted by Eugene who she gave a more positive greeting back.

“Hello little miss Dixon. Where is your daddy?”

“Coming…” Y/N smiles looking up at the man with a head tilt as Eugene opens his mouth to say something but then had an epiphany before revealing the book from behind his back. “Doggos!”

“Yeah thought yea get a kick out of the different pups” Eugene smiles watching her flip through the pages knowing she’s going to read it in more ‘depth’ on the ride over to the kingdom.

“What do yea say, pumpkin?” Daryl gave her a look while approaching the car with Rick and as he opened the trunk for them to load up goods for the kingdom, Y/N hugged Eugene tightly when he knelt down in response to her grabby hands.

“Thank u uncle gene”

“Anythin’ for you kid”

________

“Stay here, Imma get some stuff from some friends to make yea more comfortable” Daryl frowns telling Y/N who still hasn’t spoken a word since the war ended about a week ago. But she nodded, thankfully she still communicated some way. “Okay. I’ll be right back, okay? Okay pumpkin?” he had such a gloom to him that matched his kid and his worry was overwhelming for himself. He didn’t want this kid to implode or for him to wreak havoc on the remaining saviors in hopes it makes up for all the pain she endured before he saved her.

The moment Daryl steps away to get what they’ll need, Y/N watched him leave and felt the tears come on.

“You Y/N?”

The voice startled the poor kid as Eugene took a step back holding his hands up defensively.

“Sorry sorry. I mean no harm.” He states watching her semi relax but the tears kept going. “Just thought I’d come make sure you were okay.”

“H-He…he’s not coming back?” Y/N frowns feeling the tears come on even faster. “He just left me…l-like them”

“Oh hun, no. The man that saved yea is never gonna leave.”

“But he…”

“He’ll come back. He always does” Eugene reassures and the moment he said that, Daryl made his way back and Y/N instantly lifted herself from her seated position crying even harder when she hugged his leg.

The archer was about to glare at the man but immediately dropped his pack and kneeling down to lift Y/N up and in his arms. She held onto him tightly continuing to sob.

“You came back”

Daryl squeezed her in his embrace when she said such.

________

“Aunt Carol!” Y/N screams out of excitement the second she stepped out of the car with her new book in hand.

Carol quickly matched her pace bringing her into her arms hugging her tight. “I’m so happy you came over” she smiles happily, setting her down and bringing herself to her level when Y/N started to go on about the dogs she’s been reading about.

Daryl could never hold up his front that he has with most when watching his kid be happy and all. He tuned out Rick when he took out his things from the trunk and told one of the guards about the supplies they brought, and brushed passed him knowing he came more to talk with him than anything Kingdom related. Rick watches his brother approach the two and Carol straightens up noticing his gaze causing him to turn away and help unload the rest.

“You know he’s still beating himself up right?”

“Right.” Daryl didn’t say anything more on the matter even if Carol’s worry radiated a bit from her. “Cmon. We didn’t drive here to stand around”

“Yes I know! You brought my best friend over for lunch and we are going to talk about the dogs in her new book that Uncle Gene gave her” Carol smiles watching Y/N look up at her with a beaming smile. “Come on. I made stew”

“But—-“

“And a PB&J with what’s left of our supply for Y/N” She’s a mother, she’s dealt with a picky eater before.

A couple of hours have passed and many of it was spent listening to Y/N talk about a Belgian Malwah. It’s Belgian Malinois, but she couldn’t pronounce the second word. She ate lunch with Carol and Daryl who cut apple slices for her with his knife, he got scowled by Carol once when he offered a slice on the end of it. Y/N got to help Ezekiel collect the chickens into the coop and Daryl was gifted a Polaroid by Jerry so he got a photo of his kid carrying a chicken…and another of her getting smacked by a chicken. But she’s tough, she’s tough now. Y/N got tuckered out after helping around the Kingdom, mainly carrying a third of what Daryl carried for people around the place. But Daryl didn’t want to drive her back home if she was exhausted so Carol happily had them stay in her little place at the kingdom.

The retired sheriff also had to spend the night, but he didn’t mind it. He knocked on the door leading to the room the Dixons were staying in and Daryl quietly opened it as Rick noticed him holding a sleeping Y/N.

“Sorry I thought—-“

“You didn’t wake her. Just come in, man” Daryl moved out of his way carrying the kid in his arms sitting on one side of the window bench as Rick took the other once he closed the door. “If you’re gonna apologize again I—-“

“I’m not. I’ve said it enough, you get the idea…I just. I feel bad. I shouldn’t have yelled at yea the day you moved her into Alexandria. Should’ve been supportive like how everybody else has been.”

“We were all stressed, Rick” Daryl frowns feeling her shift in his arms as he adjusted to make her comfortable. “But I stepped up. I stepped up for her. She deserves a parent and I’m happy to be that…give her what I’ve always wanted.”

“Can I just say, Y/N won the lottery. Not just with a dad. But also a family” Rick smiles receiving one back from the archer.

Once Rick left, Daryl carefully laid Y/N in the only bed in the room covering her up with the blanket. He picked up the plush dog that Maggie gifted her a week back, thank god he packed it knowing his kid forgot it. In her tired state she hugged the plush close while Daryl tucked her in.

“I love you, daddy” She gave a tired smile, followed with a yawn and her eyes fluttering shut.

The archer enjoyed the warmth he felt in his chest hearing such as he gives her a goodnight kiss on her forehead.

“I love you too, pumpkin…” He whispers getting up from her bed and before he left the room, he checked on her once more. “Thank you for coming into my life”

And as the door shuts on his way out. Y/N smiles in her sleep curling up comfortably.

Finally safe.

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction

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clubdionysus · 11 months ago

Text

[BAD DECISION #11] Perry

warnings: birds! jaykay gets kissed in a club :( paint party! fun!! b and jk then proceed to have a totally platonic shower :) normal friend things!!

soundtrack: better - khalid; & cry! - middle part

wc: 5.9k

bd total wc: 540k (on-going)

minors dni | AO3 | series masterlist

Jeongguk ignores the look on Taehyung's face as you enter the bar that evening. It's not the hug that Jeongguk greets you with that's unusual, nor your typically sparkling appearance - but the smile on Jeongguk's lips? Yeah. Taehyung hasn't seen one like that in a while.

Still, he doesn't make a big deal of it, for Danbi's following just behind you. He's far more interested in his attempts (and failures) to chat her up, instead.

Namjoon watches on with shallow curiosity. His watchful eyes lounge on you as he takes a sip on his drink, a little more reserved than the others. Taehyung and Jimin greet you and Danbi like old friends, and in a way, it sort of feels like they are.

The club is empty - hasn't opened to punters yet, and won't for another half an hour. The suppliers hired for the paint cannons are still setting up; doing test runs into an empty space where patrons should be. It's strange to see this perspective of a club. Like a liminal space, it feels like you shouldn't be there - but the boys are unphased. Are used to it by now.

"And Hoseok?" Jeongguk questions when he notices the lack of sunshine shadowing behind you.

"Having drinks with the boys," you tell him without much care. You forget Jeongguk isn't as intricately weaved into your social life as he is into your personal life.

"The boys?"

He doesn't mean to sound so affronted, but he'd always just assumed it was the singular boy; that your little trio was a friendship that existed within a vacuum. Of course, it doesn't. You've an entire social circle that he's none the wiser of.

You pay his confusion no mind. "Yeah. How are you? How have you been?"

The conversation moves on, Jeongguk leading you into the room behind the bar in which they're pregaming.

"It's technically the staff room," he says with a shrug. "But what the boss doesn't know can't hurt him."

There's an airiness to his demeanour; his tipsy brain just as fluffy as the clouds that float around the ends of rainbows. There's safety there. No promises of gold, just certainty of a stable foundation.

It's a side to him you've never had the luxury of witnessing before, but part of you feels like you always knew he'd be like this. Always knew how he'd smile after a few drinks; how his giggle would sound just that little bit brighter.

"No Seoyeon tonight?" Jimin asks Yoongi as he arrives just a little after you. His cheeks are pink, the clammy heat of the club already getting to him, even when it's empty. Namjoon passes him a bottle of beer, unopened. Yoongi's unphased. Clamps the soft metal cap between his teeth and prizes it off, before he takes a sip and shakes his head.

"Nah, nah, she just dropped me off. Has brunch tomorrow with her friends so doesn't wanna be hungover," he explains as he takes a seat next to Taehyung.

Jeongguk leans over to you, quietly clueing you up. "His fiancée."

"Ah," you nod, before Yoongi turns his attention to you and Danbi.

You're reintroduced, and are quick to learn that Jeongguk and Jimin only ever seem to refer to you as Disco Ball amongst their friends. Yoongi mentions it first - 'you really do look like a disco ball' - but the rest of the boys chime in agreement.

There's protest from you. Sure, you've got enough glitter to decorate a Christmas card on your eyelids, but your outfit is pretty subdued. Jeongguk had told you not to wear anything fancy - "the paint is water-based, but just in case. Don't want you to wreck your favourite party dress, or anything like that." - and so you'd listened.

He doesn't tell you, 'cause he doesn't think you'll need it, but Jeongguk brought a spare shirt with him. Just a white one. Big. Wasn't sure if you'd think about the logistics of a paint party - but it isn't your first rodeo. You've been to a handful of events like these in the past, and know what to expect.

You're in a big white shirt of your own, wearing it like a dress with a flannel layered on top. Admittedly, the tights are giving disco ball chic - fishnets with teeny tiny gemstones sparkling underneath the dim lights of the backroom.

Jeongguk can't decide on how the fuck to describe your style. It's not grunge - too sparkly for that. Equally, there's too much of an edge to you for it to be considered 'girly'. He doesn't understand it. Quite likes it, though. Likes that you're still wearing those black hightops you always seem to be in.

Normally at the club you'd be in heels - but again, it's not your first rodeo. You know better than to tempt the paint party gods with a stiletto and sopping wet floor combination. Learnt that mistake the hard way back in university.

Jeongguk taps his foot against yours. No one else notices, too busy engaged in their own conversations. When you glance down, you realise why - he's in his converse, too. The only shoes he doesn't mind wrecking. They've been through the wars before. A little paint won't hurt them.

You knock his foot back. He smiles.

There are no words exchanged, just an understanding; you and he are cut from the same cloth.

You pay attention to everyone else's shoes now. Are looking for other kindred spirits. Jimin's in Chelsea boots- black leather, a little tarnished, in need of a polish.

Taehyung's in brogues for some reason, and you can't think of a worse shoe to have chosen for such an occasion. So many holes. So much to wreck.

Danbi, ever smart, ever stylish, is in a pair of white sneakers. She knows the game she's come to play. It's why she's in all white, too.

Yoongi and Namjoon are both sporting Nikes, not too fussed about the evening ahead.

And so it's just you and Jeongguk. You tap your feet against the floor and smile. "Stop copying me."

"I was here first, Byeol," he banters back, but is cut off by Yoongi declaring the need for you all to play a card game. It's one you don't think you've heard of, but make no objection. With the number of drinking games you've played over the last few years, you're almost certain you'll know it.

He deals cards and you quickly come to realise that you don't know the rules. Jeongguk tells you it's fine - "I'll help you out, c'mere." - and encourages you to show him your cards. He organises them; gets them in an order that will work for the game.

"Hey, I'm just as clueless!" Danbi pouts, and so Jimin grabs her cards to redistribute them.

"We'll work as a team," he says, eyes flicking over to Taehyung, just to check how he feels about it. Danbi is oblivious, but you catch the way Taehyung raises his brows in Jimin's direction. There's a slight smirk on his lips.

"Don't mind them," Jeongguk mumbles quietly, just for you to hear. "Jimin's just winding him up. Told Tae if he doesn't make a move that he will instead. Think he's just trying to encourage him. Making him be proactive, yanno?"

"He better bloody be," you muse, taking a sip on the drink Jeongguk had put in front of you when he started messing about with your cards. Tequila slammer. Fucking vile. Does get you fucked up, though.

"Jealous, are we, Byeol?" he smirks, swapping one of your cards with his. "Here, it'll help."

You don't dignify him with a response. It's a stupid thing to tease you about, because you know there's no way in hell Danbi would sleep with Jimin. While sharing is caring, sexual partners aren't something the pair of you have ever shared. Hasn't happened before, and won't happen in the future. It's an unspoken rule.

One that Jeongguk would do well to remember.

The evening carries on just as it began; light banter, drinks far too strong, and electromagnetic force somehow keeping you and Jeongguk attached at the hip. You're in the smoking area far more than you are on the dancefloor. You're not smoking, mind you, just talking nonsense. Making bets. Being stupid.

"Have you read him yet?" You ask when Jeongguk finally presents you with Perry the paper pigeon.

He shakes his head. Bites his lip. "No. You can do the honours."

He watches your hands as you unfold the paper, but the soft laugh you produce draws his attention to your face.

"Ask for someone's number," you read out, bemused at how shy Jeongguk apparently is.

He groans. "God, that's so embarrassing."

"Nooo," you laugh, drunk body swaying into his a little. He's giggling too, now. Can't seem to help it. "It's cute."

"So lame."

"Shut up," you beam. "It's a start! A good bloody place to start as well. Something easy."

Jeongguk vehemently disagrees. Tells you as such. Says, "imagine asking for a number and getting rejected over something so simple. Would be mortifying. A very valid fear."

"So you go for a girl you know is interested," you say. "Look, this is the best place for it. Remember how many girls find you on Instagram after they come here? It won't be any different now that you're out from behind the bar. If anything, you've got far more chances!"

He spends the next fifteen minutes moaning about it. You decide a drink is the only remedy to his whining.

You order four Purple Starfuckers from Yeonjun. Jeongguk is offended. Insists he can make them, despite the fact he is quite literally covered head to toe in paint. and has a permanent grin from just how tipsy he is. Yeonjun tells him no. Says the bar is off-limits. Jeongguk says he'll fire him, and Yeonjun just laughs in his face.

"Alright. Bet you 10,000 you won't remember trying to fire me in the morning."

"Deal."

"Disco Ball, you're our witness," the blue-haired menace winks towards you. "Make sure he pays up."

"Aye, aye, captain," you wink back, and instantly regret the rogue pirate shtick because Jeongguk looks at you like you've got three heads.

"The fuck?"

"What?"

"Captain," he snorts. "Captain."

"Oh, don't get jealous," you tease. "Is this because you want me to call you Daddy, again?"

This time, Yeonjun stops what he's doing. Looks at the pair of you with a slack jaw and wild eyes. Doesn't know what the fuck is going on between you, but knows he wants to watch every second of it unfold.

When he serves you shots, he smirks. "Here you go. Captain," he nods in your direction, and then in Jeongguk's. "Daddy."

"Never call me that again," Jeongguk gags.

"Sure thing, Daddio."

"Oh my God."

Yeonjun walks away laughing to himself, all very amused. Will never stop calling Jeongguk Daddy now that he knows it'll get a rise out of him. Imagines you'll probably get a very different kind of rise out of him when you call him Daddy, but that's neither here nor there.

"I hate you for that," Jeongguk tells you, and you kind of believe him - but God, that broad smile of his is on full display, and the glitter on your skin is reflecting in his eyes like a clear nights sky. Impossible to feel anything remotely close to hatred around him, you think.

"It doesn't matter," you tell him, having noticed the girl behind the pair of you check him out at least three times since you've been at the bar. You kind of recognise her. Think you must have seen her before, whether it be on his follower's list or in the club. She seems like a safe bet. Interested.

"Girl behind you - look, quickly, but don't make it obvious -" Jeongguk turns around like a deer in headlights. "I said don't make it obvious! The girl with the high pony. She's been looking at you for a while now. I think she's into you."

Suddenly, Jeongguk feels very out of his depth. "Maybe we should go outside."

"Nope," you say so sternly that he feels like he's being told off at school. "Perry says you have to ask a girl for her number. Just a number. It's not a big deal. What's the worst that could happen?"

"She'll say no."

"Boo-hoo. Cry about it. It's two letters, Gguk. One word. It won't ruin your life. Here -" you pass him the final Purple Starfucker "- Down it. You've got this. If she says no, fuck her."

"If she says no to giving me her number, I don't think she'll want to fuck."

"Christ, not literally, Gguk." You spin his shoulders around. Give him a nudge. "Go. Do it."

He takes a breath. Psyches himself up. Swallows back the taste of his shot - which is a lot better than the tequila slammers he's been drinking all night - and catches her eye.

You retreat back a little bit, trying to make yourself look busy. Yeonjun watches on from the bar, even more confused than he was before. Were the two of you not just flirting? Are you not definitely boning? He could have sworn you were.

The DJ transitions into a shitty remix of an old Sean Paul song, and you wish you'd have kept Jeongguk around for a little longer to orchestrate a better soundtrack for him. None of the crowd cares how shitty it is though - cannons are launching buckets of neon paint onto revellers, covering every inch of the place in a technicolour haze.

Your flannel shirt is in the backrooms, as is your bag. Danbi's handprints are on your tits, yours on her ass, but the rest of your shirt is just a haphazard mess of colour. There's no rhyme nor reason; just paint. So much fucking paint. It feels like you're back at work.

A mirror runs along the back of the bar, and you use it to observe Jeongguk's adventure. You kind of feel like a proud parent as they begin to talk.

"Hey," the girl smiles. Jeongguk thinks she sounds sweet. A lot raspier than he expected. He quite likes that, though - although he can't really hear her all that well above the bass of the speakers. The way her lips curve thanks to his approach makes him feel a lot more secure in his endeavour. "You're normally behind the bar, right? I think I've seen you before."

"Oh," Jeongguk cringes, a little embarrassed. This is why he doesn't go for punters. He hates that there's never a clean slate. Always feels unfair. "Yeah, yeah. I manage the bar. I'm surprised you noticed."

"Well you do a very good job," she compliments, twirling a little hair from her ponytail with her index finger.

"I do?"

"I keep coming back," she shrugs. "So you must do. Could be something to do with how cute the bar manager is, though."

You watch on as he talks to her, bemused by the way his weight shifts from one foot to the other. Clearly nervous, you think it's wild that Jeongguk is so scared of rejection. He's a catch. Sure, his working hours are a bit unsociable, and maybe he doesn't have life figured out just yet, but you don't think he's too far off.

It'll take a little time for him to get where he wants to be in life, but he's actively working for it. He's studying, laying down foundations. Has a great social circle and is yet to present any qualities you think could be problematic for a healthy, enduring relationship. In a room of walking red flags, he's gleaming white.

"Who is she?" Yoongi asks with great intrigue as he comes to stand beside you.

"Not a clue."

"Does he know who she is?" He laughs. Knows that you and Jeongguk have only been hanging out for a little while, but can also read the dynamic between the pair of you fairly well. Knows that your opinion clearly matters to Jeongguk, and is trying to gauge your thoughts.

"Hopefully he will do soon," you say with a warm smile. The girl is laughing at something Jeongukk has said, making his bashful gaze all the more endearing. "He's getting her number."

Yoongi chokes on his drink. "Holy shit."

It's been months since Jeongguk has even entertained the idea of another girl. Maybe even a year. Yoongi might not have known the ins and outs of his former fling, but he knows Jeongguk hasn't quite been the same since.

"Uh-huh."

"Is this Jeon Jeongguk finally back in the game?"

"Could be."

"Well, I never," Yoongi exhales. "You know how many times we've tried to get him back in the saddle?"

"You needed a woman's touch," you laugh, biting down on your lip slightly as you watch Jeongguk scratch at the back of his head. The girl is laughing, flirting, clearly. She rests her hand on his bicep, and Jeongguk seems all shy again. He looks up. Catches your gaze quickly. Doesn't let it linger, but finds himself thinking he should end the conversation and report back on everything that's happened - but when he looks back to you, he sees you engaged in conversation with Yoongi and decides against it.

"Clearly," Yoongi agrees. "I dunno what you've done to him, but he's finally acting like himself again."

"I'm just a good distraction," you shrug.

You're right. You are. You make Jeongguk forget all about his inner turmoil, cause he's always worried about yours instead. He's thinking about it now, as the girl's hand lingers on his shirt. Trails down his arm. Reaches for his hand.

"Y'know, I've actually gotta get back to my friends," he says. He's snagged on thoughts about you. Nothing in particular. Just the fact that you exist. That you're there. That he's not hanging out with you, and he feels like he should be.

She nods. "Yeah, me too. Text me, yeah?"

He returns the nod, almost too eagerly. "I will. Have a good night, yeah?"

She pulls a little on his hand. Is aiming for a kiss she isn't gonna get.

But then Jeongguk feels your gaze on him again, and there's pressure to perform; to act as if he's doing well, as if he isn't absolutely shitting himself. He doesn't stop her when she leans in. Doesn't stop her when her palm rests on his chest. Doesn't stop her when her lips press against his.

He wouldn't say he's encouraging it per say, but he definitely is letting it happen. He's not against it. In fact, he actually quite likes it.

"You're a miracle worker," Yoongi tells you.

"Miracle workers deserve free drinks," you tease, because you're very much in need of one.

"Right you are," he agrees, and turns to the bar.

You let your eyes linger, watching Jeongguk as his awkward arm finally��moves from the frigid position next to his body to the small of her back. Wonder if he tastes more like tequila or lemonade. Think it doesn't really matter. You don't like either.

"Stop staring, you perv," Yoongi calls back to you and tells you to choose your drink. Says it's on him, but you both know it's on Jeongguk's tab.

When he finally returns, there's a triumphant smile on his lips. Proud. And you have to admit, you feel a little pride, too. The Jeongguk you met a few months ago would have never kissed a stranger in a bar.

The night rolls on without a hitch.

Danbi and Taehyung leave first. Leave together. You don't think anything will happen - you know she's playing hardball - but it's an achievement nonetheless. Also proves that there was nothing to be concerned about when it came to Jimin, who also left around the same time with a random girl none of you knew.

Yoongi ends up calling Seoyeon, gushing about how much he misses her and is in a taxi no more than five minutes later. Namjoon hops in for the ride, leaving you and Jeongguk to meander back to his place.

By the time you arrive, the paint is dry on your skin; cracking. It's uncomfortable to say the least, and earned you some questionable looks when you ran into a takeaway to pick up some chips on the way back.

You blabber gibberish together like you so often do. You're both too tipsy for your own good. Jeongguk feels like he's been chewing on a ball of cotton wool. You immediately head for his fridge to retrieve a bottle of water. Just one. You'll share.

"She was pretty," you say softly, sitting on the floor of his kitchen. Side by side, you're watching the sun rise through his windows.

Jeongguk nods. Feels like he's being tested. Doesn't know the right answer, so he goes with the truth. "Yeah."

There's silence. Neither of you really want to discuss it. You're not sure why.

He steals one of your chips. Knocks his shoulder against yours. "The boys seem to like you."

"You think?"

He nods, and says, "you should meet Seoyeon, too. Next time we all do something, I'll let you know. She's always saying how we need more women around. I think you'd get along."

You smile. Yoongi is so easygoing that you're sure Seoyeon must be just as friendly. "I'd like that."

The silence resumes. There's a heaviness. It's probably just the alcohol, and it's probably nothing serious, but Jeongguk hates it. Things with you have only ever been light. Airy. Easy. It's not that it feels difficult now, just... different. Abnormal. Strange.

"I-"

"Do-"

The jarring nature of your voices speaking over one another is unsettling. You bicker all the time. It's not unusual for you to fully disregard the words he speaks just to voice your own dumb point, and he often does just the same. There's no reason why either of you would stop talking now.

You're holding back.

So is he.

He takes another chip. Doesn't eat it. Throws it at you instead.

"You little fucker," you laugh, and so does he.

But then the silence settles again. Makes itself at home. Tucks itself into bed, says it going to stay for a little while.

"Byeol," Jeongguk eventually says, so quietly it's almost a whisper. His eyes are wise as he looks at the golden sun that rises on the horizon.

"Hmm?"

"The longer the paint sits... the harder it will be to get out of our clothes."

"Mmm," you nod. "You're probably right."

"I am," he tells you. He knows he is. It's not his first rodeo, either. "We should..."

His words are weighted so heavily that they become lodged in his throat. He's drunk, and he knows he maybe shouldn't suggest what he's about to but he can't seem to help himself.

"We still have a bird to do."

You know what he's insinuating. Your first bird. The waterpark one. The one that was totally botched because it was more important to try than it was to be faithful to words written on paper.

"Gguk..."

He's not looking at you, just at the sunrise. "It's just a shower. Just to get the paint out. It's nothing like, deep. Doesn't mean anything."

You don't say anything. Truthfully, you think now is a really good time to do it. Things are so much easier when you're drunk.

"You kissed another girl tonight," you remind him.

He nods. "Mhmm."

"Do you not think that maybe it's a bad idea? A conflict of interest?"

He shrugs. "Think about it. Why did I kiss a girl tonight?"

"Because you wanted to?"

"Because I'm trying, Byeol. We made a commitment. Made those damn birds, and said we'd do them. You told me to get her number."

"Actually," you interrupt. "The bird did."

"Exactly. I did what the bird told me to do - but only after you encouraged me to do it, too."

"The bird never told you to kiss her. And the stakes are a little higher, here, no? Showering together surely is... I don't know. More?"

More of what, you couldn't say. Your tipsy brain isn't connecting all the dots. Nor is his. You both know it's a bad idea. You both also confusingly think it's a really good idea.

"No," he says, all rather plainly. "It's no different to the waterpark - it's just that maybe this time we'll need to wash our hair."

You consider the proposal. It's tempting. It really is.

"Clothes on?" You ask.

"Yeah," he nods. "If you want."

"Y'know, for someone with a fear of rejection, you're pretty forward."

"I'm not scared of you," he laughs. "It's different."

And he really thinks it is. Thinks that it doesn't count. Thinks you're an exception, not the rule.

If you were sober, you'd tell him to fuck off.

But you're not sober.

And you're feeling a little irritated with the fact he's made progress and you haven't. Failure isn't something you enjoy, and being behind feels like failure to you.

So you stand. Kick your shoes off and pick them up. They'll need to go under the water, too. "Are you coming?"

For some reason, he's startled. Doesn't know what he was expecting. Maybe more refusal? Maybe he was looking for you to reinforce the boundaries already established by the pair of you.

But instead, you walk towards his bathroom. Start the shower up. Toss your shoes beneath the falling water, and call for him again. "Am I doing this alone, or what?"

You're standing by the basin by the time he approaches the door. He leans against the frame. Looks at you in a way you don't quite understand. You don't realise he took so long 'cause he had to sort his breathing out first - make sure he actually was still breathing.

"You go first," you whisper so quietly he almost doesn't hear you above the torrent of water cascading down onto the tiled floor.

He pauses before he reaches the water. "If you need to tap out, just say the word."

"What word?" You grin, as if anything like that has ever been discussed before.

"Oh. Shit. I dunno," he smiles back. "Um... Chicken?"

"Chicken?"

"Chicken."

"Alright. Chicken it is."

You think it's fucking ridiculous, and you're right. It is. But it gets you both laughing. Has Jeongguk holding his hand out for you and pulling you into the water with him. Eases the weight on your shoulders as he rubs some of the now wet paint from your cheeks.

"See, told you it'd be better to wash it off," he says a little triumphantly, his pretty teeth resting down on his bottom lip.

You reach up and reciprocate his kindness. "You're such a mess."

"So are you."

Well and truly stained, your shirt is peach as the water runs through it. Jeongguk holds the shower head up and lets it run over your body, but there's nothing inherently intimate about it. Nothing sexual. It's platonic in potentially the weirdest way it could be - but most importantly, it feels safe.

Again, you reciporcate. Let him take the lead. You can follow.

But then he catches you off guard.

"I'm gonna take my shirt off. There's paint underneath it I wanna get off."

The news is delivered so carefully that you almost think you're imagining it. Think that your tipsy brain has run wild - until he says, "okay?"

He waits for you to nod before he does it.

Once you do, he grips the back of his neck, and pulls the shirt over his head. It falls to the ground with a thud. The water around it runs green. Your eyes are on the trail that seeps into the drain, and not him.

"Should I?" you ask quietly. "Should I take mine off?"

Jeongguk watches you closely. His heart thumps in his chest. He swallows. Studies your eyes; how they're refusing to look at his. Makes note of your shoulders and how they're slightly more curved than usual. You're cowering. Are a shadow of yourself. It really does seem like there's a deep-rooted fear, here. He feels guilty.

"If you want," he says. His voice is gentle. Temperate. Kind. "There's nothing to be scared of, Byeol. It's just me. Just us."

And you know he's right. The stakes are so low with him that it really feels like there's nothing to lose. What's the worst that could happen?

He'd see your body. That would be it. It wouldn't matter if he liked it or not. You're not seeking his approval. You know he wouldn't tell you his thoughts either way. Wouldn't comment on your appearance like that.

When you finally grace him with your gaze, he turns around; back to you, hands up like a white flag. You take in the sight of him; shoulders broad, the dip of his spine running like a river down his back. His efforts at the gym aren't for nothing.

You start to feel bad for evaluating him. It's all complimentary, but you shouldn't be looking at him like that. Not when you've just told yourself he wouldn't do the same to you.

"Tell me something," he says, not favouring the silence.

"Mhmm?"

"Why was this on your list?"

He hears your shirt slap against the floor of his bathroom, and then the soft pat of your feet on wet tiles as you turn around, too. It's only fair if his back is also turned.

You're still in your fishnets, but you've only got a matching black underwear set on beneath them. Jeongguk's still wearing his trousers - until, pretty soon after your shirt is discarded, so are they.

Now it feels even. You're both are bare as one another.

"No reason."

Jeongguk knows you're lying. "I'll choose to believe you."

You smile. The way he speaks to you makes you want to tell him. Tell him everything. It's just stupid insecurities; nothing obscenely deep-rooted, you think. Chalk it up to a couple bad experiences. Underestimate just how severely Seokjin fucked with your head.

"It's stupid," you whine.

"I highly doubt that."

And so you relent. "It's my fault, really. I... You ever just have like a gut feeling?"

"Sometimes."

"Had one of those, once. In the shower," your sentence comes out a little staggered. A little awkward. "Was with my ex and I just... His hair had smelt like candyfloss all week. Said it was a new shampoo."

Jeongguk thinks he knows where this is going. You pause.

"Anyway, I did his hair," you continue a little flippantly. You're playing it off like it was no big deal. "He did mine. Yada yada yada, you know the rest. Realised later that evening that his shampoo was fucking mint scented. No sweetness, no nothing. So... yeah. The candyfloss scent..."

"Was someone else's shampoo?" Jeongguk guesses the end of your sentence, and is correct.

"He still denies it," you say. "I gave him the benefit of the doubt. Found myself in this god-awful cycle of insisting that we showered together - just so I knew he wasn't showering with someone else - only to end up crying halfway through it every single time. He was so fucking fed up with me by the end of it all. Told me I was fucked in the head. Said that if he did do the shit I'd accused him of, then it'd be my fault for driving him to it."

"Christ," Jeongguk hisses. He's heard some manipulative shit in his time, but that really fucking takes the biscuit.

You hum in agreement. Sound small when you say, "he smelt like candyfloss again the week before he ended things."

Jeongguk's at a loss for words. Wants to wrap you up in cotton wool. Can't believe someone would actually do that to you.

"Byeol?"

"Mhmm?"

"Your ex-boyfriend's a prick."

"Yeah," you laugh, but it's cut short. There's a stutter in your diaphragm. You let out a deep breath. Hold back the pathetic tears you know are just dying to get out of your system. "Yeah, he was. Kind of my fault, though, isn't it? I'm the one who let him lie to me. Should have known better."

The fact you blame yourself is devastating to him.

"I'm gonna turn around," he says. "And I'm gonna give you a hug, okay?"

You nod, not that he can see it. Choke an "okay" out, and within a second, Jeongguk's arms are wrapped around you. He squeezes you tight, skin warm, heat beat firm beneath his ribs. Your back is to his chest, his head resting on yours. "He's such a fucking prick. It wasn't your fault, Byeol. Wasn't your fault at all."

He's never met your ex, but he decides there's no one in the world he despises more. Doesn't like violence; would definitely consider it for him.

You shrug. "Feels like it was."

"It wasn't. You didn't deserve that."

"Shit happens."

He hates the way you deflect. Knows you'll never change, but dear lord, does he wish you'd realise that it's okay to struggle.

There's a slight shift in your body, and he knows it means you're done with the hug. Been vulnerable for too long. Wanna get back to the 'normal' version of you.

You're still covered in paint, so Jeongguk tells you as such. You apologise for being such a mess - emotionally and physically.

"S'cool. We both are, Byeol."

He leaves you to get washed up alone. Thinks you could do with a little privacy, and it means he can get his room sorted before your arrival into it.

There's a scowl on his face as he organises the pillows. Can't believe how manipulative your ex had been. How dare he make you think you were imagining things, when it was evident he'd been straying. How dare he make you feel like that.

Jeongguk's no saint. He's done his fair share of fucked up things, but never anything like that. It infuriates him. Makes him want to fucking cry - partially out of frustration, but mainly because of how badly it had affected you.

He thinks of the night before you'd made the birds, and wishes you'd have just gone out with Danbi and Hoseok instead of seeing your ex.

You take your time in the shower. Are sad to wash off the feeling of Jeongguk's embrace, but know that you have to. You'd get too consumed by it otherwise.

He leaves you a spare shirt outside the bathroom door, and tells you to come through to his room when you're ready. Jimin is still out, presumably asleep in some other girl's bed, so Jeongguk doesn't care too much for sneaking you around - not that he has to. You're just friends.

He takes the floor. Doesn't give himself half as many pillows as he gave you the last time. Still leaves his special pillows for you, though.

"Uh-uh," you shake your head as you come into his room to find him already curled up in the pillow pile. "On your bed. I'm on the floor."

He shakes his head right back, defiant. "Too sleepy to argue. Go to bed, Byeol."

You're about to fight back. About to quite physically move him up onto his bed - but the soft sound of paper against pillows distracts you.

"Shit."

Jeongguk sits up. "What is it- Oh. Shit."

You both just stare for a moment. Freeze, like you're in some kind of low-budget action movie. Look at his bed, then look at one another.

Another bird has fallen.

And as Jeongguk assesses from how bloody wonky it is, it's definitely one of yours.

AO3 | MASTERLIST | NEXT

#by holly #jk #jeongguk fanfic #jungkook fanfic #Jungkook Fanfiction #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook ff #jeongguk fic #bartender!jungkook #BD #bad decisions #bangtan #bts fanfic #dappleddaisies

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