#like shut up and let me carry what im clearly not having trouble lifting

[freddiesaysalright]

The Most Dramatic Season Ever - Week 7 - Fantasy Suites

Summary: It’s your time now! You are ABC’s new Bachelorette and this is your journey! All these men (including our fav BoRhap boys and then some) are competing for your heart! Will you find love? Will you get engaged at the end? Or will you end up heartbroken? Find out, on the most dramatic season ever!

Word Count: 7k (i’m finally chilling tf out)

Tag List:  @psychosupernatural​, @someone-get-a-medic​, @bensrhapsody​, @deakyclicks​, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession​, @minigranger​, @crazyweirdocalledfriday​, @the-moving-finger-writes​, @assembledherethevolunteers​, @rose-writes-prose​, @queenlover05​, @moon-stars-soul​, @danadeacon​, @deacyblues​, @thesundrop​, @cupidben​, @lostlittlenerd​, @delilahmay39​, @timmvrphy​, @queenmylovely​, @loveandbeloved29​, @free-pool-trash​, @fairestkillerqueenofall​, @local-troubled-writer​, @babyalienfairy​, @littlecarowrites​, @allthethingsicant​, @im-an-adult-ish​, @mirkwoodshewolf​, @squishy-gay-astronaut​, @sherlollydramoine​, @butlegendsneverdie​, @dogmom2014​, @rocketrhap917​, @26-7-49​, @lelifesaver​, @frozenhuntress67​, @drowsebaby​ If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: I’m sorry this took so long and that it’s a little shorter. Writing has been hard as I’ve been really depressed this week. We moved my grandfather to a hospice house and dancing (the only thing that keeps me sane) has been cancelled. Anyway, I hope y’all are all staying healthy and safe :)

Warning(s): OKAY I thought about doing some smut in this chapter, but then decided against it. I don’t think it fits the format, since so far it’s been like watching the show. That being said, I got as steamy as I felt was cool. So, it’s steamy but it’s not like completely NSFW. I hope y’all enjoy :)

Night 1  Week 1  Week 2  Week 3  Week 4  Week 5  Week 6

Week 7 here we go!!!

The flight to New Zealand was long and tiring. It took almost an entire twenty four hours of travel. You tried to get some rest, but it was tough, since your heart was still breaking for Rami. It did not ease your pain to remind yourself that it was the right choice. It was the toughest breakup so far. And you were anxious because it only got harder. Especially because you were in love with the three remaining men.

This of course, made your decision even more difficult. You needed these overnight dates to determine who was further along and who was ready for a proposal. But the overnight aspect did have you a bit nervous.

Sex didn’t frighten you. But it usually deepened your feelings, so you needed to know how they felt before going to bed with them. And whether or not they were truly ready to commit themselves to you.

After a day to recover, you had your first date. It was with Joe, which of course, excited you. Joe’s hometown had been wonderful, but you needed to know if he loved you. If he was in this as deep as you were.

Joe: I think I’m more nervous this week than I’ve ever been before. Knowing that Y/N and I could have the night together and take our relationship to the next level is really important to me. I also know that I’m in love with her and I need to tell her. My biggest frustration is that I know she can’t say it back. But I need some sort of validation because I’m starting to lose my mind a little bit. I didn’t think this whole journey was gonna be this hard…

You were meeting Joe in Hobbiton, where Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit movies were filmed. You were stoked when you got to the bar in Ireland based on The Shire, but now you were getting as close to the real thing as possible. It was an odd combination of nerves and thrill for you. You hoped you got to where you needed to be with Joe because you weren’t ready to say goodbye.

You beamed at him as he approached, your heart easing at his familiar form. He started to jog over when he saw you. When he reached you, he scooped you up in his arms as you laughed together. He set you down so he could kiss you.

“Hey,” he said quietly when your lips parted.

“Hey,” you returned sweetly. “Are you ready for today?”

“I’m stoked,” he assured you.

“Well, we’re touring Hobbiton,” you said with a smile. “So I think it’s gonna be great!”

You took his hand and led him up the path to Bag End. There, you met a guide, who began to walk you through the entire set. It was so cool to see everything in person and to witness the work that went into making such a huge, legendary film. The sun was shining and you felt it made the grass around you almost glow green. It was the loveliest day. After the tour, you sat together at The Green Dragon Inn, each with a drink. You toasted to your journey and took a sip.

“So, how are you feeling after last week?” Joe asked. “I know this is getting harder for you as the feelings get deeper.”

That was what you loved about Joe. He understood you, and never made you feel bad that this was the situation you were in.

“I’m okay,” you told him. “Obviously, last week was difficult, saying goodbye to Rami, but I knew it was the right thing to do. I’m optimistic about what this week will bring. Hopefully, it’s clarity.”

“I hope that for you as well,” he said. “I’m glad to hear you’re staying positive. Getting too caught up in the heartbreak...it’ll just bring you down. And I really want you to be happy.”

“That’s what I want too,” you said. “That’s the reason I’m here, y’know?”

“It’s the reason we’re all here,” he replied.

You each sipped your drinks some more and chatted about the experience. The day slipped by all too quickly. Before you knew it, it was time to part ways and get ready for the evening portion of the date. You carefully selected your dress. It was going to be a big night after all.

You met at the hotel where you were staying, and had a patio table all to yourselves. The lighting was low, just candles and soft, yellow bulbs. Drinks and dinner were set out and waiting for you. Joe pulled your chair out and let you sit, before taking the chair next to you.

“So,” you said. “Here’s to a wonderful day, and an even more wonderful evening.”

“Cheers, baby,” he replied.

You clinked glasses. When you set them down, you looked at him.

“So, I know this is a weird date,” you said. “There’s no rose to hand out, but there is something at the end, and I -”

“Y/N, I’m gonna stop you right there,” he said. “I know that it’s the fantasy suite, and I just want to tell you there’s no pressure. I’m really happy with where we are.”

You smiled. “I am too.”

He took a deep breath. “Honestly, there was only one thing I regretted about last week in New York.”

“Oh?” you wondered, brow furrowing. “What’s that?”

“I should have been honest with you,” he said. “The truth is, Y/N, I’m in love with you. Spending this day together only solidified that for me. I love you. With my whole heart.”

A smile spread slowly across your face as he spoke.

“Joe, I…” you trailed off, stopping yourself before saying what was on your heart. But only because you couldn’t say it. If you were not the Bachelorette, you would have told him that you loved him too.

“Thank you for telling me,” you said. “It means so much.”

“I just want to keep you informed with where my heart is,” he said. 

You beamed at him and leaned over to kiss him. Even kissing him felt better with his feelings out in the open. When you parted, you were still smiling.

“So,” you said, reaching over to the table and retrieving an envelope there. “We have this little offer here, and I’d like you to read it.”

You handed him the envelope. He opened it up and read over the words once before reading it aloud with a little grin on his face.

“Y/N and Joe,” he began. “Welcome to New Zealand. I hope you’ve enjoyed the lush world of Hobbiton today. Should you choose to forgo your individual rooms, please use this key to stay as a couple in the fantasy suite. Chris Harrison.”

“What do you think?” you asked with a smirk.

“I’d love to spend the night with you,” he said, but you detected some hesitation there.

“But?”

“No buts,” he replied with a small laugh. “I just want you to know that I meant what I said before. There’s no pressure. We don’t have to do anything-”

You cut him off with a deep kiss.

“Joe,” you said. “I’m attracted to you. You make me feel so loved and desired. So, let’s go up to the fantasy suite and explore that more.”

He smiled. “Whatever you want, Y/N. I love you.”

You grinned wider at him. Then, taking his hand, you led him away and up to the main part of the hotel. Your suite was on the top floor so you took the elevator. For the whole ride, your heart was pounding. Your skin felt hotter each time he squeezed your hand. You were tempted to begin things right at that moment, but you had to wait until you were off camera.

After two agonizing minutes, the elevator dinged and opened its doors. You and Joe were both clearly holding back from running to the room. When you made it to the suite, he opened the door, and you saw the whole romantic set up. There were candles everywhere. A bottle of champagne sat on ice in the kitchen, with two glasses on the counter. Rose petals made a path from the front door to the bedroom door.

“This is beautiful,” you said, looking around.

“It really is,” he agreed. “But honestly, I wanna kiss you so bad, I can’t focus on it.”

“Well then,” you said. “Come here and kiss me.”

He made it to you in two strides, his lips claiming yours in the most heated kiss of your life. Your stomach lurched with fresh desire as he nipped at your bottom lip. You moaned into his mouth. He lifted you off your feet when you coiled your arms around his neck. Then he carried you into the bedroom, kicking the door shut. Finally, the cameras and producers were gone and it was just the two of you.

You were still kissing Joe when he set you back on your feet. You had become frantic with need for him. He chuckled into your kisses.

“Y/N,” he said, taking hold of your shoulders. “Y/N, slow down.”

You bit back a whine as he gently pushed you away.

“We’ve got all night,” he said. “We don’t have to rush.”

“The sooner we do it,” you returned. “The sooner we can do it again.”

He threw his head back and laughed. You smiled.

“Okay, we can go as many times as you like, but for our first time together, I really…” he trailed off. “I really wanna make love to you.”

“I’d love that,” you told him with a smile.

Your heart melted at his sentiment, but you had not lost any of the desire. You turned your back to him and moved your hair aside so he could unzip your dress. You heard him step toward you. Then his hands were on the zipper, the top of which was right at the nape of your neck. You gasped at the contact as your body begged for more.

Inch by inch, he lowered the zipper. You shivered when the air hit your back before Joe leaned down and kissed the newly exposed skin. You bit your lip.

He turned off your mic pack, which was at your lower back, and removed it, tossing it away. The straps of your dress fell from your shoulders. You faced him again. The fabric fell away from your body, revealing your bare chest to him. You hadn’t worn a bra. Joe sucked in a sharp breath as his eyes flickered down to your breasts before returning to your face.

“Like what you see?” you teased.

“Love it,” he said, pulling you into his arms again. “I love you.”

You giggled. “You can’t stop saying it.”

“No, nor will I,” he returned firmly.

You smiled again.

The way Joe made love to you was like nothing you had ever experienced before. It was slow, deliberate, and deep. He reached your very soul. He showed you the strength of his love with every kiss, every thrust, and every soft whisper of your name. Love was not just a word to Joe. It was something that required action. And you saw after that night that he was steadfast and strong. There was no doubt that he truly loved you. He showed you four times.

When you woke beside him the next morning, tucked safely in his arms, you smiled and hummed contentedly. You snuggled down closer. It almost made you wince, since your body was sore. It was the sweetest soreness you had ever felt. Joe shifted, eyes fluttering open. His smile was the only one that could match your own.

“Hey,” you whispered.

“Morning, beautiful,” he replied, voice low with the morning.

“How’d you sleep?” you asked.

“Wonderfully,” he said. “You?”

“The best sleep I’ve had in months,” you answered with a giggle.

“Good, then I did my job,” he joked.

You laughed again as he rolled half on top of you. He lowered his lips to yours. It was a soft and delicate kiss, since neither of you wanted to heat things up again without proper time. When he pulled back, he looked into your eyes.

“I think I could do this forever,” he said.

“What?” you asked.

“Wake up to you,” he said.

“Me too,” you returned. 

You cupped his cheek in your hand. The urge to tell him your feelings arose again. But you didn’t want to confuse him or hurt him. On the other hand, you felt it so strongly. He deserved some validation, didn’t he?

“Joe, I love you,” you said, so quietly you wondered if you had even said it aloud. But the look on his face told you that you did.

His eyes widened at first. Then, his brow furrowed. He was wondering if he’d heard you right. Then, all that melted away into the biggest grin you’d ever seen on his lips.

“Y/N, I can’t tell you what it means to hear you say that,” he said. “I love you.”

“I love you,” you returned.

It felt so right like this. But then, reality set in. Joe had to return to his hotel. You had two other dates this week. Two other men, who you also adored. As you got up and dressed, you tried not to despair.

You held it together well enough until it was time for Joe to go. He had his backpack slung over his shoulder and he was standing by the door. You slid your arms around him and buried your face in his chest.

“I don’t want you to go,” you said, voice shaking.

He kissed the top of your head. “I wish I didn’t have to, baby.”

You held each other for a long moment as a lump formed in your throat. You sniffled, but tried to hide it, burrowing further into him. He still noticed.

“Hey…” he said gently, pulling away to look at your face. “Hey, don’t cry, honey, I’ll see you soon.”

He wiped a stray tear with his thumb. Then, he pressed his lips to your forehead. Slowly, he detached himself from you. He had to, or you would have held him there all day.

“See you later,” he said. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” you choked out.

He gave your hand one last squeeze before releasing it and walking through the door. You closed it behind him. You leaned back against it and sank down to the floor, pulling your knees into your chest. Your heart was aching, and you just hoped you hadn’t made a mistake by confessing to Joe.

You had to travel later that day, since your next date was hours away, on the coast. Missing Joe terribly, you made your way to Papamoa Beach, where you would have a date with Ben the following day. The thought of seeing Ben raised your spirits.

The morning of your date, you were feeling much better. You had so much to look forward to with Ben. He was fun and cheerful and had the sweetest heart. And this date was going to be really cool.

You met him on the beach, wearing just a pair of shorts over your bathing suit. Ben came out onto the sand, looking straight out of a magazine in his tank top and swim trunks. You waved to him and he jogged over to you, planting an enthusiastic kiss on your lips when he reached you. You beamed at him as you parted.

“So, what have you got in store for today?” he asked.

“Something super fun,” you told him. “Since you’re so active, I know you’ll love it.”

“Now, I’m very curious,” he said, raising his eyebrows.

“Come with me,” you said, taking his hand.

Together, you walked down the beach, where a tall, broad man with long dark hair was waiting for you. He was extremely tan, so you figured he spent most of his days out here.

“Hello, Y/N and Ben,” he said with a thick New Zealand accent. “I’m AJ and I’m your surfing instructor for today. Have either of you ever surfed before?”

“I have,” Ben said. 

“I have not,” you admitted.

“Alright, that’s perfectly fine,” AJ said. “We teach all ages and skill levels. We’ve got some suits and boards waiting for you in there.”

He pointed to the building of the surf school. You and Ben went in and got changed. When you came back out, Ben looked you up and down before biting his lip. You stifled a giggle.

Ben: I’m having such a wonderful time on this date. Y/N looks amazing in that bodysuit, so I am so grateful tonight’s the fantasy suite because it’s getting harder and harder to keep my hands off her. Obviously, it’s all up to her, I’m thrilled just to hold her, but I am ready for more. To take our relationship further and grow more together.

You were each given a board and then you followed AJ. He gave you some instruction on the sand - and some important safety information - but before you knew it, you were in the water, paddling out to beyond where the waves were starting. AJ went over a few more basics, and helped you find your balance on the board.

Ben tried to ride a wave first, since he had done it before. He looked so good out there. He smiled, tongue poking out between his teeth, and he glided through the water on the crest of the wave. You wondered how many times he had done this because he didn’t seem nervous. He had clearly mastered the art.

You had no such luck. Even keeping in mind everything AJ told you, your timing was off when you tried to stand up, and the wave knocked you clear off the board. The ocean tossed you around a minute as the wave moved past you. Then you kicked up toward the surface. You sucked in air and wiped your eyes as you broke it.

You were already laughing along with Ben and AJ. You knew it looked hilarious. Ben’s smile was infectious as you climbed back on the board and paddled back to where he waited for you.

“It was a great try, love,” he said through his laughter.

“You’re just being nice, it was terrible,” you returned.

“Not to worry,” AJ assured you. “There’s still lots of ocean for you to try.”

You made several more attempts. Ben did as well, nailing it over and over again. You, on the other hand, were missing the mark. It got to the point where you were actually getting frustrated.

“Come on, love,” Ben said at last. “Don’t pout. You can do it.”

“Ugh,” you groaned, to his amusement.

“Try one more time,” he encouraged. 

You met his eyes, and at the look on his face, your resentment ebbed away. He wasn’t being condescending or spouting empty words of praise. He really believed in you.

With a determined smirk, you got back on the board. You waited a minute or two before you saw it coming - the perfect wave. Eagerly, you began to paddle forward. You were going to get it this time. You had to.

You rode it until just before it crested. You popped up onto your feet. You didn’t fall! You were riding the wave! Adrenaline surged through you as you surfed - properly surfed! Your legs were wobbly, but you didn’t fall until the wave crashed, and you went down. But this time, you went down having accomplished the goal. When your head broke the surface again, Ben was already beside you, pulling you out of the water and onto his board.

“That was amazing, love!” he cheered.

“I did it!” you cried.

“You did it!” he affirmed.

He sat you down beside him and kissed you. Your mouths were wet and salty from being in the ocean all day, but you didn’t care. You had triumphed because he supported you. His hands found their way to the sides of your face as he deepened the kiss.

“Incredible,” he said.

You chuckled. “You were incredible. I didn’t manage to actually do it until the end.”

“Well, I’m bloody proud of you,” he said.

“Thank you,” you said, beaming.

After the lesson, you returned to shore to have a small picnic. It was just cheese and crackers with some wine. The suits and boards, you returned to AJ. Then you both sat on the blanket, realizing you were starving, and went in on the food.

“So, where’d you learn to surf?” you wondered.

“In California,” he said. “We had a series of matches out there, and in my down time, I picked it up. Then I got my whole team doing it.”

“Well, it was super sexy,” you told him.

“You’re way sexier,” he argued. “Your body in that suit was...incredible.”

You flushed at his words and under his gaze. 

You chatted a little longer on the beach. Then it was time to prepare for the evening portion of the date. You were excited to be in a dress and makeup after Ben had watched you wipe out all day. Not that you minded being goofy around him, but tonight was big. You wanted to be beautiful and sexy.

You walked with him to a beach side bar that was reserved for you. The candlelight was soft and warm, and made you feel cozy despite the breeze. Ben pulled your chair out for you. You sat down together.

“Thanks for being so supportive today,” you said. “I was being such a baby.”

“No, you weren’t,” he assured you. “It’s natural to get frustrated at stuff like that.” 

“You were still so amazing to me,” you said. “I appreciate you so much.”

“Of course,” he said. “I love you.”

You were convinced you’d never grow tired of hearing those words from his mouth. Once again, you were struck with the desire to say it back. But you refrained. You were already feeling guilty for telling Joe, and you didn’t want to do the same thing with Ben. You smiled. 

“I feel like your hometown date went so well,” you said. “This is going in a direction that makes me excited. I feel so sure of you, Ben. I know it made me nervous when you told me that you’ve never been in love before, but I’m not now.”

“No?” he wondered.

You shook your head. “I can feel what you feel for me. And you show me every time we’re together.”

You took his hand and stared into his eyes. You felt the words coming up in your throat. Only, you couldn’t stop them. You felt them too powerfully.

“I love you too, Ben,” you said.

Inwardly, you kicked yourself. How did these guys make your resolve so weak? Not that you minded too much, but you felt like you were messing up. Like it wasn’t decent behavior for the Bachelorette.

Ben’s smile made your regret fade. It didn’t disappear entirely, but you felt better that you’d said it.

“I love you more,” he said.

“Oh, don’t start,” you joked.

You laughed together. When it died down, you squeezed his hand.

“We’ve come a long way,” you said. “This journey hasn’t always been easy, but I want to keep going with you.”

“I do too,” he said.

“So, there’s an envelope on the table,” you said. “Why don’t you open it and read what’s inside?”

He smiled - making your heart jump - and then reached over to pick it up. You waited with bated breath as he cracked open the seal and pulled out the card.

“Y/N and Ben,” he read. “Welcome to beautiful Papamoa Beach. I hope you enjoyed learning something new together. Should you choose to forgo your individual rooms, please use this key to stay as a couple in the fantasy suite. Chris Harrison.”

“What do you say?” you wondered.

“I say absolutely,” he told you. “How could I not want more time with you?”

You giggled.

Just down the beach from the bar, production had put together a glamorous hut. It sat a good ways from the shoreline for when high tide came in, but you could still see the ocean from the doorway. Inside, there was a gorgeous queen bed. Candles and twinkle lights illuminated the one room structure with a soft, warm glow. Rose petals dotted the white comforter. Champagne was already iced down and waiting for you on the side table.

“Is this glamping?” Ben teased.

“This is definitely glamping,” you replied with a smirk.

“There’s nobody I’d rather glamp with,” he said.

“Same,” you returned.

With that, he closed the door to the cameras. You turned off your mic packs first thing. A beat passed as you looked at each other. Then you collided. It was all frantic tongue and teeth at first, desperate as you were to be close. You felt Ben’s hands at the back of your dress. He tugged the zipper down and it fell away from your body. You shoved his blazer off his shoulders and then quickly got to work on the buttons of his shirt.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he breathed onto your neck as he kissed you. “You’re so beautiful. I love you so much.”

“I love you, Ben,” you sighed back.

You kissed his chest when you opened his shirt up. He wrapped his arms around you and held you close. It forced you to pause. You stood there together, you just in your thong and he was shirtless. Your chests pressed together made you feel his heartbeat. It matched your own. Hot desire coursed through you. You wanted more, but he held you firmly.

“Just a minute,” he said. “Gotta breathe.”

You rested your head on his chest. You realized that you needed to breathe too. So, you caught your breath together. As you slowly inhaled and exhaled, you felt yourself uniting with Ben. Your hearts beat together. Your lungs worked together. Your bodies could have melted into each other. It was a moment of true tenderness, where your heart met his.

As your breathing evened out, both your hands began to roam. Fingers brushed deftly over sweltering skin. It sent a shiver up your spine to feel the feather lightness of his touch.

“How do you want this?” he asked.

You held his gaze. His pupils were blown wide with lust, but they were still that charming shade of green. You smiled. His eagerness to please you was not something you were used to. No man had ever asked for explicit instructions. 

“I want you in every way I can have you,” you told him. 

“Maybe I should clarify,” he chuckled. “How do you want me first? Tell me what will make you feel best.”

You blushed. “Really?”

He shrugged and rubbed your back. “What can I say? I’m an athlete, I like to be coached.”

“Well then,” you replied. “You can start by kissing me again.”

“I’ll kiss you forever.”

He claimed your lips once more, passionately. As your desire grew, you found it easier to tell him what you wanted. Ben was an attentive and giving lover. He seemed to thrive on your instructions and requests. It showed you the kind of man he was. He would do anything in the world for you. Your happiness was his happiness. Your pleasure was his pleasure. Your love was his love.

You and Ben only made love twice because he spent so much time exploring each other. He was so intent on making you feel amazing - something he accomplished over and over again. You’d never had so many orgasms in one night. And each one made you see stars. Your love for Ben ripened into deep passion. 

The next morning, Ben was awake before you. He rolled over and saw the morning light catch your hair, and he felt a pang of sadness. As much as he was enjoying this, his time with you was almost over. You had another date, and unfortunately could not spend the whole day together. Still, he watched you sleep a moment longer. 

When he couldn’t stand it anymore, he placed a soft kiss to your cheek. Even asleep, you smiled. You stirred and stretched slowly. Finally, your eyes opened and you took in Ben’s familiar form.

“Morning,” you yawned.

“Morning, love,” he replied. “Sorry if I woke you.”

“You can always wake me with kisses, hun,” you assured him.

He smiled half heartedly and looked away. You rolled onto your stomach and propped yourself up onto your elbows.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“I’m just…” he sighed. “I’ll be very sorry to leave you today. I hate this.”

You cut your eyes away from him so he wouldn’t see you tearing up. 

“I hate this too.”

He gathered you up in his arms, laying you on his chest.

“I know I’ll see you again soon,” he said. “But I also know there are still two other men in this. I just...I don’t know if...I don’t want to make you feel guilty.”

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I can’t promise anything right now. I don’t even know what decisions I’ll make at this point. And it’s so unfair to you because I know what all of y’all need right now is some validation, and I just...I’m not able to do it, and I’m so, so sorry.”

“Shh, don’t apologize,” he soothed you, kissing the top of your head. “S’alright. It’s just getting more difficult for me, and I want you to know where my head’s at.”

“I get that,” you said. “I appreciate you being so honest with me, Ben. Really. I wish there was something I could do to make it better, but even though I can’t, I want to know what you’re thinking. And how you’re feeling.”

“I’ll do my best to be open,” he said. “But I want you to do the same for me. As much as you can. The last thing I want is to be blindsided.”

“I understand,” you said. “I will tell you my feelings as soon as I can. I never want to hurt you.”

“Thanks, love,” he said.

You had some breakfast before he had to leave. It was another gut-wrenching goodbye. Things were more serious with Ben than you had anticipated. And now you had told two men that you loved them. It hit you suddenly that you were going to break someone’s heart. And you still had one more date left in the week.

You felt heavy going into your date with Gwilym. Once again, you had to travel a bit to get to where you were meeting him. As excited as you were to see him, you were also terrified. You knew how you felt about Gwilym, and it was strong. You knew he felt similarly, though he hadn’t said outright that he loved you. You needed to clarify everything.

You met Gwilym just outside your destination. He smiled widely at you, and you rushed forward to jump into his arms. He caught you as you wrapped your legs around his waist and kissed him deeply.

“Well,” he chuckled as your lips parted. “I missed you too.”

“I hope you’re ready for today,” you replied.

He set you down, but kept a hold of your hand. 

“What are we getting up to?” he asked.

“We are at Polynesian Spa,” you explained. “We are going to get treated today and relax after all these crazy weeks. That sound good?”

“That sounds perfect,” he said.

You went inside together. You and Gwil got the full treatment. You started with facials, before moving on to a massage. Your body was physically relaxed, but your mind was sort of going wild. Luckily, the nature of this day helped you to forget about the stress of your situation. During your massage, you cleared your mind and let yourself live in this moment with Gwilym.

After your massage, you went out to a private pool that overlooked Lake Rotorua. The water was warm and soothing. You felt especially relaxed now after being pampered, and you just wanted to enjoy this time with Gwilym.

“I’m so glad we get to chill,” you said, moving closer and leaning into him. You rested your head on his shoulder.

“I am too,” he replied. “Has your week been difficult?”

“A bit,” you said. “I’m feeling the pressure of things even more now than I was before, and I know that feelings are going to get hurt and I just….this is getting hard.”

“I’m sorry, cariad,” he said gently, kissing your head. “We’re coming to the end. Your feelings are real. Of course it’s hard.”

“How are you feeling?” you wondered.

“I’m feeling really good about us,” he told you. “I feel like last week went well. My family adored you. Which affirmed my feelings a lot.”

“I liked your family a lot too,” you said. “Your mom mentioned how hard you took your fiance’s death and it showed me how much they care about you. I admire that.”

“Yes, I relied quite heavily on my family during that time,” he said. “I even stopped going to read to the children for a while. I was just...not at all myself.”

“It’s almost hard for me to imagine,” you said. “I feel like you’re such a wonderful person and you’re mostly positive.”

“Grief is a great complexity,” he said. “I still don’t understand a lot of what I went through. But I know that every step of my life has led me to you. And for that, I’m most grateful.”

You smiled and straightened up to look at him. Then you coiled your arms around his neck, splashing the water a little bit, and pulled him in for a kiss. 

“I’m so grateful I met you too,” you replied when you parted. “I thank God every day for it.”

He kissed you again. You stayed there, making out with him, for what felt like hours. You didn’t feel the sun or the water. Just Gwilym’s mouth on yours. You swore you steamed up the pool with the heat of the kisses. It made you grateful that tonight was the fantasy suite. You were so attracted to him, and you wanted to explore the physical connection some more.

As the sun began to set over the water, it was time to get ready for the evening portion of the date.

Gwilym: I’m excited about tonight. Y/N and I have a wonderful connection. We’ve been strong since the beginning. Truly, I could see us at the end of all this. I’m still falling steadily in love with her, and I want to explore our relationship further. I want to keep working on our relationship forever, hopefully.

You met up with Gwilym at a bar that had been reserved for the two of you. As relaxed as you’d felt earlier, your body was now tense. You needed to have a serious talk with Gwilym about the relationship and find out where he stood.

You sat down together at a little table. He pulled your chair out for you, and you thanked him. Then, he took up his drink as he sat beside you.

“To a wonderful day,” he said. “And the most incredible woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.”

“Cheers,” you giggled.

You clinked glasses and you each took a sip.

“So,” you said, setting your wine down. “I feel like we need to talk about where we are and how exactly we’re feeling.”

“I’m alright with that,” he said. “Would you like to start?”

“Sure,” you said. “Gwilym, I’m definitely falling in love with you. You have stood out to me since night one, and I think we’ve had a really solid relationship. I appreciate your honesty, how dedicated you are to this, and your vulnerability. I know I can see a future with you.”

He smiled as you spoke. 

“That’s lovely to hear,” he said. “I feel the same. We’re going strong. You’ve been as fair and honest in this whole process as you could, and I appreciate it. You make it so easy to be vulnerable with you because you are also so open. We’ve both really let our walls down. I fall more in love with you every day.”

You deflated a little. “So, that’s how you’re feeling. You’re falling in love with me?”

“Yes,” he told you. “That’s where my heart is.”

Your heart sank. So, he was falling behind. He noticed your expression shift.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

You sighed. “I feel like….we need to be further along than this.”

“How do you mean?” he pressed.

“You were falling in love with me back in London,” you said. “If you’re in the same place, then it means we’re not progressing.”

He took a sip of his drink, swallowing slowly as he returned it to the table.

“Where do you think we should be?” he wondered.

“I don’t know if we need to be at a certain place,” you said. “But we should be further along than we were a couple weeks ago. We need to be going forward.”

“Just because I’m still falling doesn’t mean we haven’t made progress,” he argued. “I need time to know you more. For me, falling in love….it’s a long way down before I can get there.”

“I understand that,” you said. “But I still feel like we’ve just...plateaued since our one on one. And if we’re going to get engaged soon, then I need to feel like we’re climbing.”

He didn’t answer. His eyes remained fixed on the table. Your heart was beginning to beat wildly against your rib cage. 

“Gwil, please, I -”

“Y/N, I can’t tell you that I’m in love with you while you’re still involved with two other men,” he said, cutting across you. “I want to be the one at the end of this who gets down on one knee, but I cannot fully give my heart to you until you can give yours to me.”

For a moment, it felt like all the air was sucked out of your body. It was such a confusing thing to hear. Did that mean that he was in love with you and he just wasn’t saying it? That felt like a betrayal, especially when he’d always promised to be honest with you.

“So…” you began, deciding to ask the blunt question. “Are you in love with me? It’s your pride that won’t let you say it because there are still two other guys here?”

He sighed. “That’s not it. I don’t think I can get there unless we’re getting there together. I’m not in love with you yet.”

“Gwilym, that doesn’t make any sense!” you cried. “You knew what this process was when you signed up for it. Don’t you think you need to be in love before you get engaged?”

“Yes, of course, that’s the idea,” he returned. “But, because this is a unique journey, I knew that I’d need to be actually proposing before I could feel like we can really love each other. I don’t have that confidence while the others are still here.”

“None of you can be absolutely confident,” you said. “I’m not even confident of what decision I’ll make right now. But you have to take a chance. I know my heart is being pulled in different directions right now, but if I don’t have confidence that you’re where I need you to be in order for me to accept a proposal from you...then I don’t know what we’re going to do, Gwil. Because I need to be in love before I can say yes to someone.”

“Joe and Ben...have they told you they’re in love with you?” he asked.

“You know I can’t tell you that,” you replied.

“Right, sorry,” he said. “But I am getting the impression that it’s not that we haven’t made progress, it’s that I haven’t made the same progress as they have.”

“This isn’t about them,” you said. “This is about me and you. Our relationship is not about what’s going on with the other relationships.”

“But you must compare them,” he said. “How else do you make a decision?”

“I make my decision based on what happens between each person,” you said. “Yeah, some comparison happens, but I evaluate everything individually.” 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t mean to call you into question. You’ve been an excellent Bachelorette, but that’s just the thing. You’re the Bachelorette. If your heart really is being pulled in other directions, then can’t you understand why I struggle to feel confident?”

“I do,” you said. “And I’ve been in your shoes, remember? I’ve been on the other side of this. But I wasn’t afraid. I let myself take the chance and fall in love.”

A beat passed. He once again, did not answer. You took his hand.

“I’m doing the same thing now,” you said. “I love you, Gwilym.”

He stiffened and squeezed his fingers around yours.

“I…” he trailed off. “I’m sorry. I just can’t get there like this.”

You took a shaky breath, choking back tears. “So, what’s going to happen with us? Where are we going to go from here?”

“I dunno, Y/N,” he said. “I just don’t know.”

To be continued...

[saibh29]

Stand and Deliver (Part 2)

Pairing: Will Halstead x Jay Halstead x Reader (Sibling) Kelly Severide x Reader

Warning: Blood, Accident, Car Crash, Language

AN: As always please don’t take my medical advice as real, i’m not a doctor and doing what I say will probably make it worse…

Will and Jay’s sister is pinned between two cars, what a way to introduce Kelly as her boyfriend.

Part One 

********

When the call came through on the trauma phone it actually stopped Maggie in her tracks, she thought she was immune to the calls she got down that red phone, that though was a call she did not want to have to notify people about.

She hesitated, for a second, it was a second longer though than she usually waited. Then she was moving, shouting for trauma team and getting her people where they needed to be. The trauma team had Connor Rhodes as the surgeon today and he was gone along with the team when Maggie spotted Will’s red head coming towards the desk.

“Will… over here”

“What’s up Maggie?”

He was still mainly focused on his tablet and patients charts rather than on Maggie but he did let himself be directed away from the nurses’ desk to a quieter corner of the ED.

“Will, listen to me… The trauma team, they just took a call, young woman trapped between two cars, her femoral artery is ruptured by the wreckage”

“They bringing her in?” Will wasn’t looking at his tablet anymore at least. “They’ll need a Femostop for the artery if they can get to it”

“Will, honey… stop, just listen to me”

“Maggie? What is it?”

“The girl, Will… the girl who’s trapped…”

“Maggie what?”

“Will, it’s Y/N”

“No” he took a step back and when Maggie didn’t contradict herself, he jerked into action “I have to go, I have to be there, where’s the crash?”

“Sweetheart you can’t go out there, Connor’s going to look after her and get her back here”

“Maggie, Y/N. It’s really my sister?”

“I'm sorry Will”

“I have to call Jay, I have to…shit Maggie, Y/N”

Maggie wrapped her arms around the doctor who was seconds away from a breakdown. The youngest Halstead meant more to Will and Jay then they would ever admit to. It was easy to see though in the way they interacted with Y/N. The idea of her being hurt, it was something that neither of them would be able to deal with.

“Come on, lets go in the lounge I’ll help you ring Jay”  

With Maggie leading him, Will was pushed into the lounge, there was nothing any of them could do but wait until the trauma team came back.  

*****

You’d completely lost any hold on consciousness at this point, Kelly who’d gotten himself perched on the hood of the SUV was managing to hold you still by cocooning your upper body between his thighs, trying to stop any movement that would dislodge the bike frame from your thigh.

“Where’s Trauma?”

“On there way” Herrmann was staring at your chest, counting breaths as he’d been instructed to do by Sylvie. If they got below 12 per minute then they were in trouble. Well, more trouble than they already were in. “Should be here in under 10. Nice way to meet the family huh?”

“I know her family Herrmann”

“Sure, sure… her family know you’re sleeping with their sister though?”

“Keep counting”

He snorted “I'm taking that as a no then”

Kelly would happily have carried on arguing, it took his mind off of how badly this situation could become, however the Trauma team finally arrived and Connor Rhodes was running over to them.

“Status?”

“We can’t get her out” Herrmann pointed down between the cars “try to move anything and that bike frame slowly comes out of her artery”

“Alright” Connor silently went to work doing something between the cars before he looked back at them. “There’s enough space above the wound for me tourniquet it off, that it will give you enough time to move the cars enough to cut the bike frame and we can get her back to the ED with the frame still in her leg”

“That’ll work Doc? Taking the bike frame back?”

“It’s the best option we’ve got, Kelly”

“Yeah”

“She can��t move, understand, if that frame moves and completely ruptures the artery” he didn’t finish the sentence but everyone knew what Connor wasn’t saying.

“She won’t move” Kelly clamped his legs even tighter around your chest and held you tightly in his arms.

Rhodes injected some more painkillers into the IV drip that Sylvie had set up along with a sedative to keep you out. Unconscious your heart beat a lot slower and more regular it was safer for you to keep you out.

He then clamped a tourniquet on your upper thigh. “Alright let’s move the sedan, that’s what’s holding her in”

Herrmann and Otis got the guys moved into lines and with Kelly and Rhodes holding you still the car was slowly moved away. Herrmann at the front of the line steadied the freed bike frame as Otis quickly cut free the part of the frame that was going to come with you in the Ambo.

“Kelly can you move her over to me so we can get her into the Ambo?”

“I'm coming with you” Kelly made no move whatsoever to let go of you. “Don’t even try to stop me Rhodes”

“I wouldn’t argue with him if I were you” Herrmann whispered into Connor’s ear.

Connor hadn’t been going to argue though. He’d worked with loved ones of patients, husbands and boyfriends more specifically, for too long not to recognise the look on Kelly’s face. There wouldn’t be a force on earth that could make Kelly let go of you right then, and wasn’t that going to be fun when they did reach the ED.

“Fine, we need to wrap that frame, it can’t wriggle while we move her”

Once the bar was stabilised as well, Kelly lifted you easily enough into his arms and onto the stretcher.

Sylvie had taken the driver of the Sedan to MED already in Ambo 61 and you were loaded onto the next one with Kelly climbing in beside you clinging to your hand. Rhodes got in as well shutting the doors behind him as the Ambo took off towards MED.

“Will and Jay know about that?”

“Is that really the question you want to be asking right now?”

Rhodes held his hands up, that was a no then. As if this wasn’t going to be difficult enough, they were going to have to deal with 3 Alpha males protectiveness over a woman they all thought of as theirs to look after. Poor Y/N.

 ***********

You were more than a little groggy when your eyes finally fluttered open hours later. You weren’t pinned between 2 cars anymore though and were laying in a bed so you guessed they’d successfully gotten you free and into MED.

The man currently sat by your bed you recognised immediately. “Jay?”

His head jerked up to your face. “Thank god” his hand cupped your cheek. “Don’t you ever do anything like that again Y/N Halstead, you understand me?”

“Jay, are you… crying?”

“No” quickly wiping at his cheeks he glared at you “Don’t be stupid”

He had been, you could see the redness still rimming his eyes, being the bigger person though you let it go. “What happened?”

“You got pinned” Jay flicked his eyes down to your leg “You’ve broken your pelvis and your leg. It’s pretty bad”

“And my bike?”

“Your bike! That’s what your worried about?”

“It was expensive”

Jay sighed and went back to holding your hand. A strange look then came onto your face as he glanced over his shoulder. “If I were you little sister I’d be a lot more worried about what’s going on out there”

“What?” you followed where Jay was looking “shit”

“Yeah, you can say that again”

Outside your room Will and Kelly were standing close together clearly talking about nothing enjoyable.

“You didn’t want in on the ‘Yell at Kelly’ session?”

“I’ll get my turn later” Jay grinned “It was decided that 1 of us at least should stay with you”

“So thoughtful” you winced as something pulled and pain radiated up your side. Jay instantly changed from teasing brother to concern.

“You alright? What hurts?” he didn’t wait for you to answer just got up and shouted for Will.

Meaning, that in the space of 10 seconds you were now surrounded by 2 brothers and your boyfriend. What fun.

********

@lclb13 @moli1497​   @clementines-x​ @the-chosen-one-time-lord​ @no-other-names-availible-blog​ @angelaiswriting​ @selldraug​ @angryares​ @thenovarose​ @georgiagrl1990​ @punk-rock-5-sos @mindofthescattered​  @dontstopxx​ @iamabeautifulperson18​ @madelinecraig03​ @ka-x-in​ @im-hurric4ne @mesmericbell​ @something–awesome @weirdpotato-14​ @putinontheritzz​ @soulslaststand​ @fuckthatfeeling​  @ember1201​ @morganlb23​ @kitkatbadass @tomhopperarms​  @fakingintrest​ @artprincessbree​  @dreamer-lover-laughter​ @artprincessbree​ @rime-warrior​ @captainvaneswife​ @jaib2-blog @kapolisradomthoughts​ @thingsandstuffienjoy​ @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked​ @aya-fay​  @itsbubbaog​ @hp-hogwartsexpress​ @emmykinzs​ @thatbadassunicorn​ @sassywingednightmare​ @weirdnewbie​ @goyawriter​ @shipperfangirling​ @nathaliabakes​ @stillreadingfantasy @waywardblueshun 

[nais-nook]

Elijah (3)

(Hey there! You may be liking/reblogging something without links to new pieces I may have written for this character, just letting you know in case you’re interested in reading more!)

My dad (love him to bits but damn) wanted me to make a three point turn before even learning the biting point properly. Thank god my mama was in the car to talk some sense into him.

also jojo references at the end because im a weeb

~***~

(1), (2)

Summary: You come home grumpy after a terrible driving lesson, and Elijah reminds you that things will work out. Eventually.

Pairing: Male Spider Kin x Gender Neutral Reader.

Words: 1328.

You couldn't turn the key fast enough, giving the lock a well needed jiggle before the door swung open, only to be slammed behind you. The hinges screeched, but you paid no mind to their protests as you slumped against the door. The embarrassment you were drowning in moments ago dissipated, leaving exhaustion in its wake. 

Your husband's sonorous voice piped up from the kitchen. “(Y/n)? That you?” 

“Eli, who else has the key to our house?”

“... Doesn't your sister have a spare?”

“Right. Forgot about that.” A hollow thud echoed in the narrow hall as your head hit the solid wood. You slid down its surface rather gracelessly, settling as a pile on the floor. 

“Sweetheart, are you okay? You sound kind of -” Elijah rounded the corner, letting loose a gasp when he saw you huddled up against the door. “Oh, honey, what's wrong?”

“I’m just tired.” He tilted his head, eyes focused on you. All six of his hands were fidgeting, his brows knitted together as he looked at you with tentative concern. Yet he did not say anything. “Eli, you gonna tell me what you're thinking or what?”

“Dinners ready. Come on, let's get some good food into your tummy.”

You shrugged off your coat and kicked off your shoes. “My legs kinda hurt.”

“Well it’s a good thing I’m a strong boy then, isn’t it?”

The faint smell of his earthy cologne clinging to his shirt enveloped you as Elijah gathered you into his arms. You heard the crinkle of your jacket as it was hung, accompanied by the thump of your boots being dropped back onto the shoe rack. You thanked him quietly, splaying your fingers over his neck, his steady pulse and warmth relaxing you. Your eyes fluttered shut, and you snuggled closer.

“It’s not a problem, love. However, you being sad and tired is.”

“I never said I was sad.”

“Maybe not sad, but definitely frustrated.”

“I never said I was frustrated.”

“When you get frustrated you do this thing where you kinda flare your nostrils and squish your mouth into a squiggly line and try to avoid looking at me like you’re doing now and -”

“Okay I get it, I’m very bad at hiding my emotions, you don’t need to tell me, jeez!”

“But that’s the thing, I don’t want you to hide your emotions.” A mattress creaked below you, and immediately you knew you were in your bedroom. “Are you going to tell me what the problem is? I know it’s got something to do with the driving lesson you just had. You were really chipper before you left the house for it.”

His fingers found their way into your hair, gently brushing through the stands, occasionally scratching your scalp tenderly. “It was just… bad.”

“How bad is ‘bad’?”

“Like I stalled multiple times.”

He laughed, the rise and fall of his chest making your head bob. “Oh, sweetheart, I thought something actually bad had happened. That’s normal! You think I managed to pull off without stalling in the beginning? It took me ages before the whole biting point thing clicked, and then I had to get used to it in different cars.”

“I know, I know I won’t get it straight away, but my inferiority complex won’t let me live it down.”

“I understand honey, really, I do,” Elijah cooed, placing a kiss on your forehead, the curve of his smile soft against your skin.

“I also slammed the breaks. And I’m pretty sure I’m damaging the driving instructor's clutch, but I don’t know.”

“Is that so?” He stroked your face, coaxing your eyes open.

“Hi.”

“Hello sweetie. Care to explain why your legs hurt?”

“I was, uh - I was clenching my leg muscles. Like real bad.”

“Aw, my poor baby.”

“Oh, hush,” you groaned, rolling over and smothering your face into a pillow, the mortification of reliving the moment more than you could handle. His fingers ghosted along your legs, and you rolled over into his lap.

“Want me to rub your legs for you?”

“No, I think I’ll be fine, I’m being kinda dramatic honestly.”

“You, dramatic?” He raised a brow. “Never.”

“Right answer.”

Elijah hummed, twirling your hair around his deft fingers. “I know it’s a part of your process to have a breakdown before you’re fine, but can you skip the falling apart bit and just get to the part where you get super confident and happy and all?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Come here sweetheart.” Elijah effortlessly lifted you into his arms yet again, and just as easily strode he to the far wall, flicking on the bright white fairy lights as he pulled you further into his chest. “Tell me what these are.”

“A bunch of picture pegs and fairy lights?” You ran your fingers over a glossy picture of Elijah standing awkwardly with your family and smiled fondly. The picture was taken soon after your first date, and you knew from the way he tried so hard to garner the approval of your family that he was the one you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.

“Well, yes, but do you remember when you refused to hang these? I remember it clearly.” His hand ran up and down your spine soothingly. “You had taken a whole bunch of photos using that lovely polaroid camera of yours, and then you were in a slump for days after I suggested you hung them up. And why was that?”

“... Because they weren’t good enough to hang.”

“No, because you thought they weren’t good enough to hang, there’s a difference. But look at them now.”

“What about them?”

“They’re all hanging, pretty and proud. Kinda like you.”

“Very funny.” You shoved a hand into his chest, little force behind it.

“How about this,” he delicately pulls a photo from the string of lights and lay it on your face. After a giggle you took a peek. On its glossy surface you were splayed out on a floor. You recognised it as your old dorm room when you were at university. Papers were scattered everywhere, like a wind had whipped through the room and you were bundled up in your favourite blanket. Scoffing, you reached over and pinned it back up. 

“The last day of final year exams.”

“Precisely, and how many times did you try to give up, only to get off your butt and try again?”

“I can’t remember.”

“Exactly. Look at this one - house hunting. We had finally signed all the paperwork. Again, you thought you’d never make it through, and again you did. And you’re always stronger when you pull through on the other side. You’ll get through this, no problem. And even if you don’t -”

“W-woah -”

You were expertly flipped, your legs tucked around his slender waist and your arms guided around his neck. Elijah leaned in, nose touching yours for a moment before he placed a quick peck on your lips. “I’m here. And I’ll try my damndest to help you through this, just like you do with me and all my troubles. Yeah?”

“... Yeah.”

“That’s my baby. Now, it’s probably a stellar idea to go down and eat the lasagne I made before it goes stone cold.”

You nuzzled into the spot just below his ear and mumbled, “Can you carry me?”

“What’s the magic word?” he asked, his tone more than a little teasing. Despite his question he began to take leisurely strides towards the kitchen.

“Please?”

“Actually, it was Kakyoin, but please works too.”

“How in the world -”

“Don’t you mean ‘za warudo’ -”

“- was I supposed to guess that?”

Elijah shrugged with a broad grin, your whole body moving with him. “Luck I guess.”

“... Hey Elijah, how many more lessons do you think it’ll take before I get the hang of driving?”

“Oh, god, um, like twenty?”

“Ugh.”

[midnightghostwriter]

sober ( T )

↬ summary: "you say you know the things that you're supposed to                         but you don't know how to love me when you're sober"

↬ genre: school au / bad girl!reader au / angst

↬ pairing: yoo kihyun x reader

↬ word count: 7.1k goOD LORD

a/n: i've been working on this random idea for like two weeks now and it is finally presentable so here is my first ever monsta x scenario! tbh the song (sober by selena gomez) only loosely fits this part, buuuuuut it may have more relevance later on. ;D

 please let me know if you enjoyed it, or if you would be interested in a sequel!

No one would ever think to ask Kihyun for his opinion of you, though he thought he’d have quite a lot to say if given the chance. You were never seen together, so there was no reason for anyone to assume you knew each other at all, aside from being in the same year and living in the same area. What they didn’t know was that the two of you had spent the better part of your school years together. He had watched you change from a young girl with too much attitude for the pink bows wrapped around your pigtails, to a young woman with fire in her eyes and a tongue sharper than a silver dagger sheathed in your mouth. If there had ever been any roundness to the edges of your person, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen them. Too often these days, they were covered with leather and splashes of color.

Even now, he watched as you pretended that the passing glances of your classmates didn’t matter, the way you leaned against the school building with your hands buried in the pockets of your blazer, a bright green bubble of gum pushing past your lips. The veritable picture of defiance. A few other kids in similar styles of dress completed the image and made other students skirt carefully around your group.

“Are you staring again?” Kihyun’s shoulders twitched in surprise, and his brown eyes were hard as shale as he regarded the grinning boy behind him.

“Christ Hoseok, stop doing that!” The blonde in question offered an easy shrug, as if he was entirely accustomed to outbursts like this (he was). He was able to easily peer in the direction Kihyun’s attention had been focused moments ago, and when he saw the object that had captured his focus, he grinned.

“You so were!” Kihyun’s glower darkened further at the glee in his friend’s voice, which only seemed to confirm his accusations. “Oh my god, you’re so pathetic!”

“Shut up!” The shorter snapped, his hand reaching out to strike at whatever part of Hoseok’s body he could reach. Stupid athletic that he was, Hoseok dodged and continued to snicker at his expense.

“You know it’s creepy to just stand here and stare at her instead of, like, talking to her, right?” Huffing, Kihyun turned on his heel and grabbed at the sleeve of Hoseok’s blazer.

“Shut up and start walking or I’ll put vinegar in your ramen for the next month.” Hoseok’s gasp made it sound as if Kihyun’s threat was a serious and personal one, rather than only possibly going to ruin his lunches in the future.

“You wouldn’t dare!” It was almost a whine, plaintive and keening, but Kihyun didn’t even flinch.

“Just try me.”

The snap of a gum bubble popping echoed through your skull as you regarded the mass of students milling about with all the boredom you could muster. It was probably cliché that you constantly carried a pack of chewable rubber in your bag, but it was better than some of your friends who spent these off-hours chain smoking their way to an early death. It’s occurred to you a few times that perhaps you should say something to them about this habit, but honestly you could not be less bothered if you tried.

Your roving gaze wandered everywhere and nowhere at once. Most of the people scurrying about refused to make eye contact, as if they thought just doing that would brand them as one of the hooligans you and your friends were often accused of being. As you were rolling your eyes at a couple trying to inconspicuously canoodle in a corner, you caught sight of a tall blonde making his way through the crowd. Almost like he could tell you had seen him, he glanced your way and grinned, offering a quick wave before he kept moving. Typical Shin Hoseok – no matter how the people you hung out with differed, he was friendly as ever.

You tracked his winding path through the crowd and watched as he came up behind a shorter boy with black hair, who you could’ve sworn looked away as soon as Hoseok approached. But you didn’t need to see his face to know it was Kihyun. This song and dance had long since become the norm for you two. He played it safe, got good grades and hung around good kids like Jooheon and Hyunwoo (though the latter had graduated already); you played hookey at every opportunity, used your worksheets from class to wrap up wads of gum and kept the company of rebels and class clowns like Changkyun. Ever since you’d left middle school, this had become your routine.

If you had to pick a word to describe Yoo Kihyun, it would be “soft.” It may have sounded inane or patronizing, but from your observations it was nothing but the truth. The colors and clothes he wore, the glasses that graced his nose on days when the effort of waking up had clearly made putting in contacts too much of a chore, the way he styled his hair, the way he spoke. Not his voice necessarily, but the mannerisms that accompanied him in everything. He just seemed so… delicate.

But no one would ever ask you your opinion on Kihyun. Why should they? After all, bad girls and good boys weren’t supposed to mix. It went against all known laws of nature and Darwinism. “Opposites attract” be damned.

Now in your third year, you had Changkyun to thank for the fact your grades would be passable enough to graduate (kid was a fucking genius – no wonder he was in advanced classes), while Kihyun would probably get honors all around and get a full ride scholarship to the SKY school of his choice. The distance between you two couldn't be further apart. But you hadn't a problem with that in years.

“He was checking you out again,” a voice remarked from next to you. A glance told you it was Changkyun, face devoid of little emotion aside from curiosity as you both watched Kihyun and Hoseok disappear into the school. The son of two people of science, sometimes he was more observant than he let on. And you weren't really keen on hearing his thoughts at the moment.

“What, you jealous?” You shot, a weak attempt at diverting the conversation. He snorted but let you have your way.

“That another guy was looking at you? No, not really.” You feigned offence.

“Do I mean that little to you Im Changkyun?” With a roll of his eyes, he slid his arm around your waist and waggled his eyebrows.

“Of course not, baby. But there's no need to be jealous when we both know I'm the better man for you.” You snickered and shoved him away. This was normal for you two. Sure, you'd had one or ten inebriated run-ins with Changkyun but anything beyond that would've been weird. He'd basically become your little brother at this point, and you had no desire to fully cross that line. He was cute and all, but he was a good kid - didn't even smoke like the rest of them, just sort of fell in with your crowd by chance, thanks to his unfortunate but adorable tendencies toward the comedic that often landed him in trouble. Still, he was too pure for your tastes.

“You're so fucking weird!” The bell rang but neither of you moved from your spot against the wall. “Get going kid, you'll be late for class.”

“Not unless you're going too - you promised me you'd actually try to be in class more this term!” Groaning, you grabbed his arm and began to trudge inside.

“Fine, but only because you won't let me hear the end of it otherwise.”

One of the benefits of hanging with the “wrong” crowd was that they knew how to let loose better than anyone at school. Even the upper crust kids with all their money couldn't have thrown a better shindig than some of the people you knew. It might not compare to a legendary college party, but for a bunch of kids with little money and no I.D., it was pretty damn good.

It came as no surprise that the impending end of third year, and subsequently your days spent unwillingly trapped in the prison of the education system, meant the biggest party anyone could manage. Considering it was being hosted at the pad of some other kids in your year who had a little cash to burn and were lucky enough to not be under the watchful eye of parentals, it promised to be a showstopper.

No literally, that's what it said on the event invite that went out.

“This is cheesy as fuck and Yoongi knows it,” you commented derisively when you got the message. Changkyun rolled his eyes.

“I bet you five bowls of ramen one of his friends wrote it. Yoongi doesn't throw parties of his own volition.”

“Probably. This reeks of that university friend of his… The flower boy one, what was his name?” You may or may not have been a little too lifted to really recall.

“Fuck if I know, they all look like flower boys.” You cackled.

“True.”

Flower boy or not, the party at Yoongi’s was going strong the moment you were ushered in by someone who was definitely not your usually somber friend, and held all the promise of only going up. The small place was already close to critical mass, and there was music thrumming like the very walls were alive. The party itself may not have been his idea, but the music was definitely all Min Yoongi. He would probably die before letting someone else make the playlist, lest they choose something that forever ruined his musical genius image.

If he could be said to already have anything of the sort. You didn't know a damn thing about that stuff.

After you had secured a red solo cup of… something you'd forget the name of within minutes after asking about it, you began to make the rounds about the place. Some of your usual crowd was here, some people that had to be college friends of Yoongi’s friend, and a motley assortment of other people you'd only feign friendliness with until the next morning when they'd lost the alcohol haze that made them tolerable. Definitely party of the year material.

Eventually you found yourself in what appeared to be the center of dance activity. What the room had been used for before you couldn't begin to guess; it was now so packed with gyrating bodies you couldn't see much else. Downing the rest of your drink, you abandoned the cup and resigned yourself to its loss before wiggling your way into the fray.

It didn’t take long for someone's hands to find their way to your waist, but with the bass and alcohol mixing into a lovely thumping in your blood, you couldn't have cared less. For some time you let them stay there, helping steady you against the overwhelming flow of music and body heat alike, even gentlemanly keeping you from being collided with on a few occasions. You didn't bother objecting until the song slowed to some disgusting ballad (no doubt another of Yoongi’s friends’ choices that had been sneakily added without his approval), and the urge for another drink surpassed your desire to dance, especially to a ballad with someone you felt the furthest thing from sappy feelings for. A few taps and they kindly released you, allowing you to finally turn and face your partner. Pleasant surprise colored your smile.

“Hoseok! I didn't expect to see you here!” The tall blonde grinned down at you.

“Hey! Yeah we weren't sure if we were gonna come either, but decided we couldn't miss it, I guess.” Your sluggish and cloudy mind struggled to interpret his choice of pronouns.

“‘We’?” You managed to ask. He chuckled.

“Yeah, me and some of the guys. I think Minhyuk is here somewhere, I know he'd love to say hi.”

“Yah, did you bring underclassmen?” You accused, jabbing a finger at him. He just laughed again.

“You know as well as I do they would've insisted on coming anyway. You can't tell me you didn’t bring Changkyunie.” You pouted.

“I tried! He said he was busy, so I'm all by myself.” With a grin, Hoseok placed one of his ridiculously long arms around your shoulders and began to pull you away from the crowded dance floor.

“Well, you don’t have to be alone anymore! Come hang out with us - it’ll be way more fun that way, anyway.”

“I dunno, think you guys can keep up? I’m kind of a party animal.”

“Alright Sparky, we’ll see how long that lasts.”

Truth be told, you were grateful that Hoseok was coercing you into doing something other than pounding drinks until you were able to make friends with literally anyone here. As much as you insisted that him and his crowd weren’t the kind of people you associated with, it was better to be there with someone you kind of knew, rather than fifty people you didn’t particularly like.

You followed as he wove through the crowds in the small apartment, eyes trained on his back so as not to lose him in the masses. If someone stopped him, you lingered, nursing an offered drink or just staring off into the crowds until he nudged you and you two started moving again. The place wasn’t big, but just large enough that it felt like you had stopped and talked to everyone attending, and that it had taken hours to cross the few rooms to where a small number of other boys were sitting.

An incoherent screech of excitement was all the warning you got before a body collided with yours, nearly knocking you over. With Hoseok’s help, you were able to right yourself enough to safely disengage your attacker and identify him. From beneath a mop of burgundy hair, Lee Minhyuk grinned with all the force of the sun at you. A warm chuckle bubbled out of you at the almost puppy-like expression on his face. You'd never been good at pretenses with him, and the alcohol certainly didn't help.

“Hi Minhyuk,” you offered and he latched onto you like a veritable koala. Gosh, who knew string beans could be so heavy!

“I feel like it’s been ages since we saw you,” he whined, the words almost lost in the high-pitched tone of his voice directly in your ear. You patted his back.

“Well, we are in different classes. We don’t really get a chance to see each other much these days.” He pulled back just enough to pout at you.

“You could come say hi! Even Changkyun visits more than you do, and you guys hang out together all the time.” A small kernel of guilt wormed its way into your stomach at his words. Perhaps it was the alcohol making you more sympathetic, but you did feel a bit guilty… But you just didn’t hang out with the same people anymore. In all honesty you figured that Minhyuk and the others wouldn’t really want to hang out with you anyway, after the way things had changed between you over the years, and with the reputation you'd gained for yourself. The only reason Hoseok was still civil was because he was weird (and, you suspected, because of Changkyun, though you didn’t want to risk the muscle bunny’s physical retaliation for any such implication).

“I-I’ll try to start doing that more often,” you managed to promise, and he seemed satisfied, finally unwinding his hold on you to plop down on the couch, wedging himself in next to another boy from Changkyun’s grade named Hyungwon, and his own classmate Jooheon. No need to remind the poor boy that in just a few weeks that would no longer be possible. After all, graduation was around the corner meaning another mass exodus that would include you, Hoseok and…

You stopped your train of thought there but it didn’t make a difference, as a second later, you saw someone appear on Hoseok’s other side, a red plastic cup clutched in his grip.

Kihyun.

Even as you attempted to shift your gaze, Hoseok, in all his lovable idiocy, seemed to notice him too, and grinned at the shorter boy.

“Hey Kihyun, I was wondering where you’d gotten off to!” Kihyun shrugged.

“Just went to get another drink,” he answered, taking a blase sip of said drink. You did your absolute best to start shuffling off in the opposite direction, but without even taking his eyes off Kihyun, Hoseok reached back and grasped your wrist, preventing your escape.

“Well, guess who I found out on the dance floor a bit ago!” With a yank, you stumbled and barely managed to avoid spilling the contents of your own cup as Hoseok tugged you in front of him. Wide-eyed, your startled gaze met Kihyun’s and you prayed to everything holy that you didn’t turn red from how awkward this was about to be.

“Uh, hey,” you supplied lamely. For a few moments he seemed to just stare at you, like you were a difficult puzzle and he wasn’t sure how to go about starting to put the pieces together. Then it was gone and you could’ve sworn you saw the spark die in his eyes, replaced instead with cooly polite disinterest.

Okay, fuckin’ ouch.

“Hey. Wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight.” Even his tone was distant, and you wondered vaguely why you were mildly offended by that. The feeling wouldn’t go away, however, and in your irritation, confusion, and inebriation, you glowered as you snapped back at him.

“Yeah, well, you’re not the only one who’s friends with Yoongi.” He blinked.

“Of course I’m not,” he said simply. You couldn’t seem to form a response.

Before your irritation was able to boil over, however, Minhyuk yelled something from his spot on the couch, and you found yourself swept up in their shenanigans. Grateful for the chance to go back to feigning ignorance of Kihyun as usual, you allowed the younger boys to goad you into several rounds of dumb party and drinking games, dancing to too many songs until you were stumbling for a place to sit, and inane chatter about anything and everything your swimming minds could conjure. Easy, comfortable, just like the old days.

Eventually, you were able to flop wearily down on the couch for a break, though it took much insistence and cajoling of the boys for you to get your peace. You’d almost forgotten how high-energy they could be sometimes… How Hyunwoo had ever managed to keep them in line without you was a complete mystery. Your respite was short-lived, however, as someone sat down next to you a few moments later, disturbing the relative calm you’d been channeling into your system. At this point, you were unsurprised that it was Hoseok who kept appearing next to you at odd times, but you were grateful for his slightly (only slightly) more sane company.

“Jeez, you’d think you were running a kindergarten class by how exhausted you look.” A rueful smile twisted your lips.

“Try preschool. Have they always been this crazy?” You both chuckled.

“Pretty much. It only got worse over the last few years, and god knows a party is just the catalyst for their true crazy to come out.” As if to prove his point, Jooheon chose that moment to hoist Minhyuk up next to him where they stood on a coffee table, draping some poor girl’s coat across the red-haired boy’s shoulders and starting to shout poorly recalled quotes from Titanic. It was perfect blackmail material for later, but you couldn’t be bothered with the effort of finding your phone.

“I guess I missed a lot,” you muttered after a few prolonged moments of silence. Hoseok shrugged.

“Yeah you have.” A pause in which you tried to decide if you should be offended by his bluntness or not. “But it’s not too late to try to make up that time.”

“We graduate in less than a month. And when that happens, you crazies will go off to your dream schools, and I’ll pump gas for snobs until I turn to stripping or become a severely depressed office lackey. Not exactly a future ripe with time for catching up.” Your voice was bitter as you spewed the words you’d heard countless times, either between the lines or audibly from the sneering lips of parents and teachers who’d looked down on you for not being a star student like everyone else. Rather than rush to object, Hoseok stared at you, like he was deciding what to say, and you could feel your hackles rising the more it seemed like it would be something you wouldn’t be keen to hear.

“Were you always this unfun?”

“That’s not even a word,” you pointed out, and he jabbed a finger at you.

“SEE! Unfun!” You only snorted in reply, taking another long pull of your drink. “You know what it is? I bet you need to get laid.” The drink was actually quite tasty, and it was with much regret that you felt it nearly spray out of your mouth at his words, head whipping around to stare at him, dumbfounded. You found no sympathy, however, as he only started crowing with laughter.

“What the actual fuck Shin Hoseok?!” He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by another round of snickering. “We’re still in high school for chrissake, are you fucking nuts?”

“All the more reason,” he replied, as if speaking with the wisdom of Buddha himself. “These are the years of our lives where hormones screw everything up, and nothing fixes that better than a good lay.” If your eyes rolled any harder around your sockets, they’d have fallen out.

“Whatever dude.”

“You and Kihyun have that in common, you know.” Oops, you nearly choked on your drink again at this comment, though Hosoek had stated it in such an offhanded way, it was like he was commenting on the weather. When you’d gathered yourself, you glared at him.

“Kihyun and I have nothing in common, and you know it.” Hoseok’s smirk was wolfish.

“Dunno about that one, sweetheart.” He waggled his fingers at you like some kind of grand wizard. “All those years as neighbors, all that built up sexual tension… You two should really consider working it out.”

“Okay, time to fuck off and pound three more drinks so I can tolerate your presence,” you declared, shoving with all your might in an attempt to kick him off the couch. Curse the incredibly sturdy way he was built, and your distinct lack of physical force. He let you struggle for a few moments before chuckling and standing of his own accord, causing you to almost topple off the couch thanks to an alcohol-induced lack of coordination.

“Think about what I said,” he teased, darting out of the way as you tried valiantly to slap him. Before you could stand and chase him down, he hurried out of the room toward the kitchen, and you collapsed back on the couch with a sigh, wondering how in the world you had ever been friends with a dumbass like him.

Kihyun’s grandmother used to tell him that he should try not to frown, or his face would get stuck like that. His mother was also fond of lecturing about how making sour expressions would cause premature wrinkles. Right now, he couldn’t care less about either of those things. Instead, he watched over the rim of yet another cup of some alcohol he wouldn’t remember in five minutes, brows pressing into what would probably be a permanent crease in his glabella. You, on the other hand, were shrieking with laughter as Minhyuk attempted to balance you on his shoulders, hunched over and clinging to his head for dear life, which just exacerbated the whole situation as the way you’d wound your limbs around his face rendered him blind. Jooheon and Hyungwon sat on the couch again, lazily yelling warnings to prevent the two of you toppling over entirely.

Something about the scene made him unnecessarily irritated.

His glowering was interrupted, however, when a presence made itself known beside him by lightly bumping his shoulder. He turned to tell the person to fuck the fuck off and leave him alone, only to discover it was Hoseok. Biting back the obscenities he’d intended to let slip, Kihyun sighed instead.

“What?” The taller boy had the audacity to give him a look of feigned innocence.

“What ‘what’?” He asked peevishly. Honestly, sometimes Kihyun wondered who the real child in their group was. “I just came over to make sure you were doing okay.”

“I’m doing just fucking great, why wouldn’t I be?” No response this time, just a pointed stare that had him sighing again. “Okay fine, maybe not, but that doesn’t warrant you coming over here and pestering me.”

“You should just talk to her.” Kihyun gave him his most dubious look, something he was quite accomplished at. Hoseok rolled his eyes. “First you’re staring at her at school, now you’re watching in a corner as she rough houses with our friends instead of trying to talk. That only does two things: one, make you look creepy as hell, and two, prolong your suffering.”

“She hasn’t talked to me since we were twelve. Why would that suddenly change?” Hoseok shot him an exasperated look.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because it’s a party, and just because you guys don’t hang out anymore doesn’t mean you can’t be civil.”

“She actively avoids me. Just because she lets you talk to her doesn’t mean it’ll work for me. And that only happens because you hang around Changkyun all the time giving him goo-goo eyes.” Hoseok huffed, a comically offended sound that made him seem like a drama heroine. Kihyun snickered. “But seriously, it’s fine. Things have changed.”  He seemed to think something over before he smirked at Kihyun.

“Or you could just make a move on her, that’d certainly get her attention.” It was with world class self-control that Kihyun prevented himself from dying of liquid inhalation.

“Excuse me?” He demanded, and Hoseok put his hands up in surrender.

“Calm down, dude. I’m just saying that maybe you two could stand to work out some of your weird shit physically rather than by talking. Not a lot of room for awkward bullshit when you’re going down on someone.”

“Oh my god,” Kihyun groaned, turning away to Hoseok couldn’t see the color beginning to tinge his cheeks and ears. It took several moments of deep breathing to keep him from punching the other boy, but eventually he turned around, entirely exasperated. “Look dude, even if that’s true, I can’t just go up to her and start- start putting the moves on her or something. She’d probably flip me over her shoulder and stomp on me with those shiny ass combat boots for good measure.” Hoseok tilted his head to the side, humming a sound of dissention.

“Maybe, or maybe she’d be more willing than you think. Just because you think your feelings are one-sided doesn’t mean they actually have to be.” Kihyun sighed.

“Are you done?”

“I guess so.” Hoseok mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like Thought this would be a lot easier, and Kihyun shot him a bemused look.

“Huh?”

“Don’t worry about it! I’m gonna get another drink, you want one?”

“Uh, sure. Thanks.” And then Hoseok was sprinting off into the crowd, leaving Kihyun with an empty cup, their squealing friends, and a dozen or more questions spinning so fast he thought he might fall over from vertigo. Was it… really possible that you weren’t as cold-hearted about him as you appeared? If he walked up to you right now, drink in hand, and demanded an answer on your feelings, would you piledrive him, or would you reciprocate? Could he get away with even attempting to initiate something like that?

A second later, he shook his head to clear it. No fucking way, Hoseok was just drunk and spewing useless bullshit. With a sigh, he looked down to find his cup was empty. You were still monkeying around with the others, a spectacle he had no desire to continue witnessing, so he wandered off to find his own damn drink. He was going to need more than a few of them to get through this party.

By the time you’d grown tired of nearly crushing Minhyuk’s head between your knees (and almost fallen in a graceless tangle to the floor multiple times), you were absolutely sloshed. In between bouts of laughter and screaming, multiple cups of who-knew-what concoctions were passed among you. Now, you leaned against Hyungwon on the couch while you watched Jooheon and Minhyuk drunkenly act out a scene from some drama. What one it was supposed to be you couldn’t have possibly known from their poor ability to remain on their feet longer than a few moments to deliver their lines.

Your giggles had reached a nearly hysterical pitch when your pillow mumbled something about the bathroom and left you to nearly fall over, whining a few curses at his retreating back. They went unheard and unnoticed, and you were content to lay there for a few minutes, if only because it allowed the rush that had swirled up into your mind to settle down. The possibility of simply sleeping the rest of the night away in your current position crossed your mind, but before you could tumble into full sleep, the couch shifted beneath you again as someone took up the empty spot next to you.

“Hey,” you complained, pulling your knees closer to yourself so you could use them as leverage to maneuver into a sitting position. Any other choice words you had prepared died off on your tongue when your new companion tilted his head lazily in your direction.

“Sorry, didn’t see you there.” Kihyun’s words were slurred just enough to make it clear he’d had as much to drink as the rest of you, and you suppressed a chuckle at the idea that someone so traditionally a goody-two-shoes had gone off the deep end. Instead you made some non-committal noise at the back of your throat, adjusting so you were more comfortable on the couch.

In some more sober part of your mind, you knew the situation and its accompanying silence ought to be awkward, but you were swimming in a warm, lovely sea of vodka and rum and couldn’t have felt less uncomfortable. The pair of you sat quietly, watching with total disinterest at the other people milling about the party. God, you kind of really just wanted to sleep now that you’d had a taste of what the Sandman had to offer…

Just as you were contemplating the risks of leaning over to go back to sleep (as logically as you could under current conditions), you registered that someone was saying your name. It took another few seconds and repetitions of those same syllables for you to understand it was Kihyun. He was staring at you, and you struggled to focus on the words coming out of his mouth. Hm, had he always had such a nice-looking mouth?

Wait, no, focus.

“.../n are you listening to me?” No, you weren’t, not even a little bit, and you tried to look at least a little apologetic or sheepish. He barked out a sound that might have resembled a laugh any other day of the week, but was instead a shadow of any sort of amused sound. “I guess Hoseok was right… Some things don’t change.”

“What are you talking about?” Yeah you were way too drunk for Kihyun to get all serious on you. And since when was he seriously listening to a thing the muscle bunny said? Everyone knew 85% of what Shin Hoseok said was probably bullshit or trolling.

“Even back then, you weren’t a good listener. Never took anything I told you seriously. Still don’t, it seems.” You groaned and let your head drop to his shoulder so you could stare him in the eyes for emphasis.

“Kihyun-ah,” you managed after a moment. “I can’t focus on a single thing right now. Don’t take it personally, ‘kay?” You dragged out the last syllable, following it up with a giggle at how girlish it sounded. For a few moments you stayed like that, eyes unfocused as you looked over his face. It felt like ages since you’d really gotten a good look at him. And even with your mentality in tatters, you could tell he had grown up, in a way you hadn’t. He’d always been the slightly more mature one of the two of you, and now it really showed. Even if he was expressionless as he stared back at you.

“Hey,” he mumbled as the silence stretched on like slowly shaping taffy. You offered only a hum in response, full sentences and words a burden too great for your mind right now. “Can I kiss you?” You laughed and punched him in the sternum, but he barely flinched. His face was still blank, leaving you with no room to tell what he was thinking.

“Why would you wanna do that?”

“Because I like you. And I want to.” You shrugged, his slurred confession not even registering in your molasses mind.

“‘kay.” A simple word, but it was all the answer you could be bothered offering right now. It seemed to be enough for him though - as soon as it left your lips, his were closing the few centimeters that separated you two. You hummed against his mouth, a pleasant buzz racing across your skin that had absolutely nothing to do with the alcohol.

It didn’t take long for the position to make your neck start complaining, and you shifted, barely breaking contact with him as you put one knee between both of his and leaned against him. He didn’t seem to mind that you’d made the choice to sit on him rather than the couch, only moving to slide one hand up your neck into your hair, the other latching onto the small of your back so you didn’t fall to the floor behind you.

The painful need for oxygen was the only thing that compelled Kihyun to gently grip your shoulders and pull you off him. His eyes were wide, hair just as messy and wild as the look on his face, and you were certain you probably didn’t look much different. You couldn’t think of a single thing to say, and he seemed to be rendered just as mute. Rather than search for words you couldn’t dredge up, you leaned forward again, bracing yourself on the couch beside his head, and kissed him again. A strangled sound rumbled through him and from his mouth to yours, and you couldn’t help but smile just a bit. Who knew Kihyun would be such a moaner? You’d barely been making out a few minutes and he was already resorting to sounds rather than words.

You pushed further, skating your tongue across his bottom lip, and his hand on your back slid down across the fabric of your skirt before settling and pressing you closer to him. If the other boys saw what was going down, you didn’t know or care, too busy making room for his tongue to chase yours back into your own mouth. Whoever decided this was a good move when making out was clearly a gods-sent prophet or something.

When you finally broke away again, you’d lost count of the number of groans and other small sounds the two of you had dragged out of each other with roaming hands and sloppy kisses alike. You were a panting mess, your hands gripping the shoulders of his shirt for dear life as your lungs searched for oxygen to stop the room from spinning. Kihyun was clutching your hips like a drowning man, his own breathing ragged. You hadn’t been looking for a good time like this when you came here tonight, but you weren’t complaining, especially when it was clear the feeling was mutual.

“Can we…?” You let the question trail off, not sure how to phrase it, but he seemed to understand your intentions.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

He released you just long enough to let you slide off his lap. The room was still spinning a bit thanks to the lovely mix of alcohol, hormones and lack of oxygen that had you ever so slightly off balance. When he was standing again, he took your hand and began leading the way. Honestly, you were surprised he had even the slightest idea of where he was going, knowing you would’ve kept the two of you blindly guessing long enough for the fire simmering in your stomach to die down.

It took a few tries, and nearly walking in on other people, to find a room that was unoccupied. But when you did, Kihyun tugged you inside and slammed the door. It took only a few seconds more for his mouth to attach itself to yours, the fierceness of his actions pressing you firmly up against the wood. Your arms found their way around his neck, fingers carding through the fine hair at the base of his neck and giving you the stability you needed to wrap your legs around his waist. The movement received a complaint from a small voice in your mind calling you cliche, but you squashed it in favor of molding yourself against him and feeling more than hearing as he groaned.

Even Kihyun was only so strong though, and you were startled from your heated connection by an abrupt shift in gravity. Eyes you didn’t remember closing opened again, and you realized you were on your back, Kihyun’s intense stare pinning you to the mattress beneath you almost as effectively as his physical hold on you. What little breath you’d kept in your lungs escaped you in that moment, and you couldn’t do much except stare back at him.

“Kihyun?” You asked after a few moments when he didn’t move or say anything. A shaky breath escaped him and his head dropped to your shoulder. Surprised, you simply waited for an explanation.

“I’m not going to last much longer,” he mumbled into your shirt, and you realized the reason he’d stopped moving was that he was trying to restrain himself. The thought brought a soft chuckle out of you, and he raised his head just enough to shoot you an indignant look.

“That’s okay,” you told him, running a hand through his hair and pushing it back from his forehead. He frowned.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. It’s okay.” His sigh of relief fanned your neck, stirring something dark and heady inside you. Then he was hovering over you again, something almost like a smirk on his lips, and it struck you in that moment that he had never looked further from his “good boy” image than he did right now. And good lord was it hot. His fingers dug into your biceps as he pressed you into the sheets, but that too only served to fan the flames beginning to heat your skin.

“I won’t go easy on you.” You grinned wolfishly up at him, reaching up to drag your nails down his spine. You could feel him shudder, his hold on you tightening even further, to a point that was almost painful, but rather than make you wince or shy away, it made you arch your body closer to his.

“Good.”

With bleary and sleep-crusted eyes, you woke the next morning in an unfamiliar room. Blinking away your weariness and the pressure building in your skull, you rolled onto your side and tried to will the memories back. But it wasn’t until you felt a shifting beside you that recollection nearly drowned you.

Lying with his back to you on the other side of the bed was Kihyun, and the realization made your blood run cold. No, no, you couldn’t have… And yet the presence of your clothes scattered about the foot of the bed, and the tangled mess of the sheets made the truth all too evident. You had, in all your drunken stupidity, slept with Yoo Kihyun. At Yoongi’s house (though at least that part made sense; neither of you would’ve wanted to attempt anything with parents either of  your homes).

Guilt swarmed through you as you recalled the things the two of you had said, and done, the night before. You had never meant to do this with him, to lead him into believing there could ever be anything between you, even if that something was purely physical. Someone like Yoo Kihyun deserved better than a one night stand with a hot mess like you. The fact that you’d both been drunk off your asses, rather than make you feel any small bit better about the situation, only made your guilt grow. You might as well have taken advantage of him, even though you knew both of you had very easily consented.

Unable to bear the memories or the aching twist in your stomach, you slid as quietly as possible off the bed, and hurriedly slid on your clothes. It wasn’t ideal reusing your outfit from last night, but until you could get home it couldn’t be helped. You paused in the act of wrapping your laces around your shoes - too lazy to fully tie them - and glanced behind you. Kihyun had shifted, whatever small flecks of golden light squeezed through the blinds making themselves comfortable on his hair. The sight of him, so at peace and completely unaware, made your heart sting with guilt again.

Could you really do this? Make this a well and true one night stand by vanishing like a ghost? Even as the questions crossed your mind, you knew the answer. You had to do this. It was better this way. It left no room for questions about where you stood, or if this was more than just a quick fuck at a party. But… but maybe you could ease the pain a little bit? Shaking your head at yourself, you dug around the room until you came up with a pen and a small notepad. Tearing out a page, you hurriedly scratched a few short words onto it and dropped it on the pillow you’d used moments earlier.

Then once you found your jacket, you flew from the room, doing your best to close the door as quietly as possible. You only hoped the words you’d left behind would do the trick.

I’m sorry. Let’s just forget this ever happened.

[lewishamada]

Panda's Past (a oneshot)

((so, i am not used to write some fanfics, because im used in drawing mangas and comics so pls bear with my wrong grammars here.. English is not my first language haha)) This is also includes in the list of my upcoming working comics :) --- It was an ordinary morning with the bears. The wind rustling in the iron branches gently scratching Panda's window. Panda, rubbing his eyes got up and fix everything and just turned into his cellphone. Scrolling up to refresh, a new total number of likes: 0 Panda may be used to this kind of situation but it may never settle less. Opening his door, and his big footsteps were heard walking to the bathroom. Ice Bear, the one who got first woken up, flips the pancakes and frying the eggs. "Oh good morning man, what's for breakfast" Panda said in a hoarse voice uncertainly saw what Ice Bear cooked. "Pancakes, Fried Eggs, and Bacon" Ice Bear replied in his usual tone, flipping the pan and the shizzling sound of oil can be heard. Panda headed to get his contact lenses and carefully placed it in both of his eyes. Panda can now see clearly... his image in the mirror, seeing the black spots in his eyes and he felt happy despite of having 0 responses and likes in his new video in Everyone's Tube and instantly wears his smile and saw Grizz went out of his room. "Hey bros! Good morning!" Yawning and stretching his paws out and went immediately to the kitchen table. "Ice Bear will go to bathroom... to clean" Ice bear said in the same voice and carefully handed the brush and the detergent. Just a typical day for the bear as it is. But something is bugging Panda's out. A small conversation is in between Panda and Grizz after eating "So Pan-pan, i just remembered why i got hooked with that giant burrito man" "So-so... what is it? Is that even have in connection in what are we doing now?" "I mean like, when i was a cub, It was a stormy night and the thunder crackles—" "Dude wait—" Panda pause for a few moment reminiscing something inside his mind, gently opening his mouth and spoke some few words: "I should post this with the hashtag Throwback Wednesday" Grizz interrupted with a stomp in the kitchen table and all of his food went anywhere... Its actually a total mess. The bacon prepared by Ice Bear is in the floor. Waiting to get it back, Grizz immediately chomps the bacon and leaves a burp. "Panda, let me finish please. Oh c'mon man, it's fascinating!" "Okay Grizz I'll listen okay okay" "It was a stormy night when i climbed a tree, I dont even know how I climbed that thing but somebody help me out of it—" "Wait wait! Is that us?" "Man, no!" "Okay okay" "The fireman helded his hand at me and telling me to trust him, when I hugged his arm, i feel comfortable in a state where all of my fears were gone" "So did you just think that Burrito is also the fireman's arm?" "Yes. Thats it!" Grizz went back to his room and go on a surf. Immediately, Ice Bear has finished cleaning the Bathroom, and it's ready for use. Panda, alone in the kitchen table, staring in the ceiling seems like he's thinking deep. Ice Bear went on his front and gently got his Vaccuum below Panda's feet "Ice Bear needs that vacuum" "Oh sure bud, ta-take it" Panda lifted his little toe above the chair. The chair creaked as he bent his self to help Ice Bear got the vaccuum. Panda again, as his usual habit, surfing the internet finding some good things happening. Panda is a one kind anxious bear, actually he really is, since birth. With his body and system full of requirements to interact with the everyday life. Full of allergies including his severe allergies to peanuts. In a moment Grizz went out in his room and shouted. "Ohhh guys! I saw something here in the internet! The voice trembles Ice Bear since he is in front of Grizz. Shaking, falling and shivers. His eyes were in total shock for what Grizz have done, but all of these is just normal to Ice Bear... Like seriously, he's acting nothing happen. No one can blame that he is introvert in nature.. Grizz, in a total shock hold Ice Bear's arms and helping him to stand up. "Sorry dude, I think I just screamed so hard! Oh well man, you are fine now" Grizz scratching his head pleaded for forgiveness, and as Ice Bear patting his shoulders and rubbing his nape, scratching his legs. "Ice Bear is ok now" Grizz in a relief, continued what he wants to say. Fixing his self. Clenches his fist and shows the laptop. "Pan-pan! Look at this article about Pandas!" Panda, amazed about what he heard, jumped in into Grizz' side, rushing in an instant. Ice bear also takes a peek from the laptop, gently squeezing himself from the bears. In the article shown, Grizz read it aloud, but not that loud. Loud enough to be heard from 500 meters radius away from them. "So, I'll read. "Pandas are racoon-like animals, but they are bears—"" Panda, in anger interrupted what Grizz has read, and immediately corrects them. Ice Bear and Grizz left in silence while Panda is having corrections on the article "Pandas are not half-bear, half-racoons! The-The'yre just bears with spots!" "So they're giant racoons?" Grizz replied in astonishment and confusement. Ice bear and Panda look at each other and trying to understand if it's a joke or if it's serious. "C'mon man! there is no such thing as Giant racoons!" Panda said in a clear voice, raising his arms like for sacrifice. Ice bear joins in the conversation, steps forward in a second. "Ice bear thinks Pandas are racoons" "Even you bro really thinks pandas are racoons? C'mon man! You and grizz do'nt understand me!" Panda, in a high voice, yells in front of the bears, and rush outside of the house. Angrily forced the door shut leaving the door a big BANG. Panda went into the wilderness "Pan-pan do'nt go!" Grizz cried aloud. "Let's go dude! let's find Panda!" Grizz and Ice Bear immediately gets out of the house and tries to find Panda. --- "Pandas are not racoons. Are they racist? Like, I am a bear okay—" Panda is taking a rest in the shade of the giant tree. Gentle breeze scrapes his fur and unexpectedly, a tear drop in his own very eyes. Panda is crying. He went up and fix his self, patting his tail for some dirts, rubbing his eyes and carefully opens his cellphone. A notification popped up in the screen of his phone, as he reads that message, he thought of something worth done if he leaves the cave. What if he will make a new life alone? Without his brothers? Panda knew his side, and he also knew that he is over acting. He forcely closed his eyes and think. But all of the things that pin him down is going inside his head. A bit of diziness is unto him. And he falls to the grassy ground. A fall that lead him where his past is lurked within. His greatest fear, the memory he wants to forget. -- The puddle of rainwater is clearly seen in a rainy night sky. The loud noises from the above is the only tool that can make little panda to trek the road all by himself. Soaked, filthy, stench smelling animal, walking alone in the rainy evening. Little Panda is struggling in pain. A thorn of a certain plant, is buried under his toes. Bleeding a little, but surely the pain lies inside. Earlier, he was in a trouble with some racoons, and jumped into rosebushes finding a good place to hide. But this is not what is happening, the reality is unfair. Being a new visitor in New York makes sense since he's from China. Went into a trip from an airplane to immediately place him in the zoo, but panda thinks this is not helping him realize the fun. Instead, he has the will to get out of the cage and find a new life. He realized that having his brothers in his life really makes him think that life isnt challenging, you will actually need some bud to carry you on. A bud that sleeps in the ref, in a messy bedroom, and a bud that is his brother. -- Panda opens his eyes, and a bit of blurry can be seen, although he already has his contact lenses. His head, aching a little that much, is not in his business. Panda immediately gives a warm hug for his brothers. He, trembling with embarassment pleaded for sorry. "G-guys, I'm so sorry about what happened" His eyes, starting to flow with some teardrop, shakes and wants to eject and makes him cry, but Grizz hugged him tighter that makes him lovable and cute. Grizz, in a replied, also asks for forgiveness. His paws are hanging a bit wanting some handshakes, but Panda also gave something. It's a picture that says "Pandas are racoons" "Ice Bear does not believe with that things" Ice Bear, enters the conversation with a suspicious look in his eyes. Clearly seeing that Panda is contented with his brother. He hugged them so hard that even Grizz cant feel his tummy. "I love you guys. I wont leave you again"

[imagine-darksiders]

A few days ago I came down with a bad cold and only made it worse by going out to class in the cold and the rain. Suffice to say I was running a high fever when I returned and suffering from recurring dizzy spells. Im feeling a bit better today but could you maybe help a sick person out and do a scenario with the very worried Horsemen, Azrael, Samael, and the Watcher when their s/o comes down with a high fever that causes them to be dizzy and delerious? Something cute would certainly be nice.

Anon, I am so sorry. I suck. I wish I’d gotten to this when you were unwell. Death’s is set weirdly so bear with me, lets just say you’ve been somehow transported into The Abomination Vault and leave it at that… xoxoxo

Azrael: The poor angel is a fusspot regardless of whether you’re ill or not. So when he paid a visit to your home following up on the promise of showing you an ancient Earthen text the Keeper had given him to transcribe. 

You’d entirely forgotten about the angel’s impending visit, dressed in a dirty pair of jogging bottoms, wooly jumper and thick socks. Despite your pitiable state that clearly suggests you really ought to be in bed, you continue to bustle around your home. You start at a knock on your front door, grumbling about visitors, you pull it open to reveal a softly smiling angel. With a croak, you slam the door shut, not really thinking, just aghast that he should see you in such a dishevelled state when you’d entirely forgotten he was even coming. 

“….Certainly not the warmest welcome, but I suppose I’ve received worse.” Came Azrael’s muffled voice from the other side of the wood. You grimace with shame and turn to open the door again, this time to see Azrael peering at you warily. The caution turns to concern however when he sees how peaky you’re looking. “Sorry Azrael, I was hoping you wouldn’t have to see me like this..”

 “Y/n?! What in Heaven’s name is the matter? You look terribly sick.” He folds his wings delicately as you step back to allow him inside, ducking under the doorframe as gracefully as he could before straightening up again and allowing his feathers to brush against your walls. 

You open your mouth to answer, but a cough worms its way up your throat forcing you to splutter into your sleeve, waving away Azrael’s approaching hands. “I’m fine, Az.” You at last croak out, “It’s just a cold, that’s all.” The angel, however, looks less than convinced, placing a soft hand against your forehead and frowning when he feels your temperature has skyrocketed. “Hmm…” He ponders, “It’s good I came along when I did….” 

Azrael sighs and looks down at you with a strict expression on his features, “You need rest, Y/n. I implore, let me take care of you.” You shake your head rapidly, unwilling for the angel of death to sacrifice so much of his time in look after you when you could easily do it yourself…Unfortunately, the motion of shaking your head ‘no’ winds up causing an overwhelming dizziness to wash its way over you. Without warning, you begin to teeter on your feet before falling gracelessly towards the ground. 

You land with a small ‘oomf’ in silk covered arms that lift you carefully into the air, accompanied by the sound of someone humming in discontent… Azrael comes to the decision that he’d be best suited to looking after you at his home in the White City, so he takes you there at once. 

For an entire week, the angel is at your total beck and call. Not that you ask for his help much anyway. He’s an attentive nurse, constantly keeping close watch and monitoring your fever. He keeps assuring you that you are not a burden, and he’s just glad to be able to properly administer care. Azrael makes you promise next time that you’ll tell him if you’re unwell. 

Death: He’s unsure where you could have picked this bug up… Being separated from any other human by an entire realm. Still, here you were, bundled in one of his spare cowls on Despair’s saddle as he rode from the Keeper’s world. 

“The Grand Abominations have been released, the council are up in arms about it and on top of all that, I now have to deal with a sick Y/n…” Death grumbled, causing you to blush with shame at being such a burden.

“I’m sorry Death…” You croak miserably, setting off another round of coughing. The horseman behind you lets out a quiet sigh. “No, no. This isn’t your fault…It just couldn’t have come at a worse time.” 

You nod in agreement, only slightly set at ease that he doesn’t hold you accountable for your sudden illness. 

There’s a noticeable lapse in conversation after that, during which you stare miserably at Despair’s neck, while Death stares down at you. In truth, the horseman was worried. Your health had been gradually declining over the past few days and he both unprepared and unwilling to allow it to claim you just yet…. 

All of a sudden, the horseman is roused from his thoughts by a warning squeal from Despair. Death notices you’ve slipped out of the saddle and curses himself for not seeing you fall. Just before your head connects with the ground, Death slams himself down against his mount’s neck and grabs at you. His hand finds the hem of your trousers and he stops your descent just in the nick of time. With a dramatic sigh, Death hefts you back into Despair’s saddle and begins to shake you. “Y/n?” he calls….No response. “Damn.” he mumbles to himself. Pulling the steed to a stop, the horseman drops to the ground, exercising a surprising amount of care in removing you afterwards. 

Death props you against a rock and stands up, hands resting on his hips as he scowls down at you disapprovingly. 

“Of all the inconsiderate…” He begins, resigning himself to having to wait until you’ve at least recovered a little before he sets off again. Death knows he could easily just leave you there. Never have to worry about you again. Wouldn’t that be nice? 

……No……

Something deep in his gut lets him know that the very idea is as abhorrent as it is cruel. Besides, loath as he is to admit it, he likes you. Much to his chagrin. With yet another deep sigh, Death slumps to the ground beside you, glancing your way briefly.

“What have you done to me, Y/n?” He whispers, adjusting the cowl to better shield you against the cold. The horseman rests his head back against the rock and sends a sideways look at Dust as the crow settles on your thigh. “I’m getting far too old for this, Dust…” Death mumbles. 

The crow simply sneezes, looking mightily disinterested in his master’s troubles and wondering instead why you weren’t currently lavishing his feathers with scratches. 

War: The look on his face when you sneezed loudly would have made you burst out into hysterics, had you not felt so rough. 

Despite his innate desire to enact vengeance upon the Destroyer for his false conviction, War insisted upon stopping to allow you some recovery time, arguing that it would only slow you down if you got even sicker. 

“You could just leave me…” You mutter dismally against your hands as you run them over your face. War’s expression darkened, half with the way he didn’t like how you were talking and half because he was dimly aware that you’d become far too integral to his story for him to simply let you go. 

He grumbles loudly as he sets you down on a soft patch of grass beside the tunnel entrance to the Drowned Pass. 

“Rest.” He commands, turning to set up a perimeter around you, scouring the area for any demons who felt brave enough to attack a horseman protecting his sick charge. You let out a grumble of your own at his instruction, perfectly aware that you’re slowing him down right now.. 

War turns to see you staring off at the unliberated Tormented Gate, a look of utter despondency on your face. His permanent frown deepens as he marches back over to you, dropping to one knee he looks at you and finally sees the tiny tremors that wrack your body, despite how you tried to suppress them. 

“I knew it.” He suddenly snarls unhappily, “You’re feverish.” 

“No I’m not.” You stubbornly reply, crossing your arms and cursing yourself for letting your shivers show through. 

War sends you a disapproving glare, but without warning, he scoops you up again and begins to make his way down to the lake. You struggle weakly in his arms, “War, I told you I can walk.” you protest, but you’re ultimately ignored. 

Setting you down by the water’s edge, War tears a small piece from his already ragged and worn cloak. He dips it into the water and looks up at you. You just sit there in a confused and tired state, before you realise that he’s waiting for you to actually give him permission to touch you. After you give him a slow nod, War reaches forward and begins to gently wipe your face, arms and neck with the cool cloth. 

You sit there in stunned silence, this unnatural display of softness from someone called War is unheard of and downright mystifying.. 

Both of you remain by the water well into the night, silently regarding each other, one with astonishment and the other with quiet, growing affection. 

Strife: When he’d barged into your bedroom one morning like an overactive toddler, the last thing he expected was to find you still laying in the dark, with the heat turned up full and buried under piles of blankets. 

“Sheesh! S’like the council’s been in here…” He teases, fanning himself to try and alleviate some of the heat. When you don’t react to his jab, Strife taps the covers where he assumes your head would be. “Hey, c’mon squirt. Time’s a wastin’. Let’s go.” 

You simply groan, the action causing your throat to tickle and you begin coughing violently. Suddenly alarmed, Strife flips back your covers to see you looking utterly woeful. “Y/n!” he shouts, causing you to grumble at the loud noise and roll over to try and get away from him. “Whup, no you don’t.” Strife grabs you and lifts you out of bed, prompting you to let out an undignified shriek. 

“Strife! Put me down, I need to go back to bed.” you weakly fight against his hold as he carries you into the bathroom. 

“Nope,” the horseman shakes his head as he sits you down on the toilet seat and begins to run the bath, “Bein’ in that room’ll only make it worse. Gotta cool you down…” He mumbles the last part to himself. 

“Whaaaat?” you moan. “But I’m already freezing my arse off!” He places a hand on your shoulder and pushes you back down when you make to get up. When the bath is full, he turns the tap off and places his hands on his hips sternly. It’s strange to you, seeing Strife so serious all of a sudden. 

“Clothes.” he deadpans. “Off.” 

You gape at him. “You must be joking!? Not with you in here!” 

Strife rolls his eyes, “Remember that time I walked in on you in the shower? I’ve already seen everything Y/n, now come on.” You squeak when he begins to tug at the bottom of your shirt and you cross your arms over your stomach crossly. 

“Strife, this is ridiculous. I don’t need you playing nursemaid, I was perfectly fine just wallowing in my room. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going back to bed.” The whole speech comes out as a croak but you feel you’ve made your point, ambling past the horseman, you barely make it to the door when you’re overcome with a spell of dizziness. You collapse backwards into a solid wall of muscle that catches you with a smug, “Hmmph.” 

You’re only vaguely aware of Strife carefully removing your pjs and lowering you into the luke-warm water. Instantly, your teeth start chattering and you shiver violently. Strife grimaces, obviously broken up over how miserable you look. 

“Sorry kiddo,” he apologises quietly, “But this’ll help in the long run, trust me.” The visceral embarrassment of having Strife see you naked up close disappears the moment your body hit the water. The horseman stays beside you, tense with the urge to just grab you and rush you somewhere warm. But he stops himself, knowing it’d only make the fever worse. After 5 minutes of torture on both your ends, he finally lifts you out of the bath and you weakly reach for a warm fluffy towel. Strife drapes it over you but stops you when you start to rub your arms with it fervently. “Stop that. Can’t go warming yourself up again, not just yet.” he states. 

You sit there with him on the bathroom floor as he pulls you backwards to sit in his lap, cursing him out for being so damn helpful but at the same time, grateful that he cares enough to want to help. 

Fury: Her caring nature shone forth the minute she discovered you trying to leave your home whilst still feverishly ill. She’d been on her way to see you when she spotted your timely escape, spotting that something wasn’t right with the way you moved. She lurches forwards as you stumbled down the steps and just managed to catch you before you fell to the ground.

“Uggh, Fury?” You groan dazedly, peering up at her stern face as she lifts you effortlessly into a bridal carry, taking you back inside. 

She sets you on your sofa and begins to busy herself with grabbing all sorts of things from your cupboards. Once properly equipped, Fury rushes back to your side and sits on the sofa beside your head. She hands you a glass filled with a suspicious looking liquid and a packet of paracetamol. 

“I don’t know how many of those a human is supposed to take, but they were in your drawer and I saw the word painkiller so…” she trails off when you begin to sneeze, pulling a box of tissues off the windowsill and handing you one. You blow your nose and want to weep at the look of sympathy your horseman is giving you. 

“What are doing here?” You wheeze out. She looks a little alarmed at the hoarseness of your voice but chooses not to comment on it. 

“Why, I came to visit my favourite human, of course.” She winks. “And a damn good job I did…” came the displeased growl a moment later. “What were you thinking? Going out in this state. Do you know how vulnerable you are?” She demands. 

You’re barely able to defend yourself under her smouldering glare, spluttering out between coughs, “I thought some fresh air might do me good.” Fury sighs frustratedly as her eyes soften considerably. She places a hand on top of your own and bends slightly to be closer to your face. You try and refrain from coughing all over her. 

“You needn’t worry about doing yourself any good. I’m here now. I’ll be looking after you for the time being.” She finishes her sentence with a firm nod, unwavering in the matter even as you try to protest. Fury holds her hand up to quiet you, “I will not leave you here on your own until you’re better.” she claims, loudly. “Now hush, tell me…..what would you like to eat?” 

For the next few days, Fury confines you to the sofa or your bed. Making you rest and sweat out the fever until it subsides. In actuality, despite your illness, you do have a good time with her as your temporary roommate. Fury watches television with you, she tells you horror stories from Hell and the amazing places she’s been. At night, she makes you as comfortable as possible with pillows galore and sleeps right next to you, telling you to wake her should you need absolutely anything.

The Watcher: “Eugh….” It is possible for a creature without a mouth to grimace, evidently. You sneeze into your hand again, trying to keep your face pointed away from the Watcher for his sake. 

“Humans….” he hisses, “Are quite possibly the most revolting creatures when it comes to bodily functions.” 

You turn to send him a sidelong glare as you stumble alongside it behind the horseman. “I’ve got a cold, Watcher. It’s not exactly something I can help.” You grunt. 

It rolls all six of its eyes and flits in front of you, taking in the languid way you’re walking and the droop in your eyes. It growls for a moment, before turning to bark at War. “Horseman! Slow down, the human can hardly keep up.” The horseman turns to fix a steady gaze in your direction, ultimately he must have agreed with the sprite because he huffs and nods towards a still standing bench. You breathe out a thanks and move over to slump onto it, half expecting the Watcher to disappear into War’s gauntlet now that you were still. 

So it came as something of a shock when it  suddenly hovered directly in front of your face, what looked like a coat in it’s long, slender claws. “Here.” It shoved someone’s century old coat into your arms without ceremony. You stare up at the Watcher with a mix of curiosity and gratitude. 

“Thanks,” you say, laying the coat around your shoulders, “Really, that was good of you.” 

The Watcher gives the impression that it’s sneering when it turns it’s head down to you again, having bee avoiding your eyes. “Your teeth were chattering loud enough to wake the dead.” It complained, but still leant itself forward and tugged the coat closed around your body. It pulled away quickly upon realising what it was doing, hissing at the smile that played at the corners of your mouth.

“Shutup Y/n.” it seethed. 

“I didn’t say anything.” You return, sneaking a content glance up at it, noticing that it had still yet to return to War’s gauntlet. You blink upon the secondary realisation that hit you….

The Watcher actually called you by your name. 

Samael: The demon growled possessively when you got up to try and stretch your legs. You groan in defeat as he, yet again, lifted an enormous, clawed hand to grab you and pull you back into his stomach. 

You’d been sick for a few days now and the stifling heat of Samael’s throne room was doing little to help the fever along. It was the equivalent of nighttime, and Samael had laid down in his lavish bed with you at his side. But the heat had made you restless, as exhausted as you were, you’d needed to get up and do something. 

Sniffling, you moan when he presses you against him with another irritated snuff of air from his nose. “Stop trying to escape.” He grumbles sleepily, flicking his tail to curl itself around your leg in a guarding gesture. 

“I’m not trying to escape,” you mumble, “I can’t sleep. I thought a walk might wear me out.” Samael lets out a rush of air as he sits up in bed and yawns widely, allowing you to catch sight of his intimidating fangs. Then, he stands up, stretching his wings out behind him and offering you a hand. You blink at it in confusion so he sighs. 

“If you won’t sleep, I’ll take you for your little walk.” He shakes himself, his armour clinking and creaking loudly in the quiet of his chambers. You ignore his hand and make your own way to the edge of the bed, placing your feet on the warm ground. You struggle to your feet and take a few steps forward, but your new position of begin upright causes you to start feeling a little dizzy. You shake your head to be rid of the feeling but it only increases and before you know it, you’re teetering sideways and nearly fall down the stone steps that lead up to the Prince’s bed had he not snatched you up and set you on his shoulder. 

“Hmm, I’d half a mind just to let you fall.” He smirked, “It may have taught you a lesson not to refuse my aid.” You roll your eyes and lift yourself up into a more comfortable position, leaning against the side of Samael’s head. His eyes flick to you for a moment before he starts to walk. The air rushing past as he strolls through his Hellish home is cool enough to coax a happy, relieved sigh from your lips. 

Samael takes you to one of his overhanging, craggy ‘balconies’ standing there to survey his territory whilst you turn your gaze upwards to the sky. He stays there for a long time, waiting. 

He needn’t wait long until he feels your body begin to slump sideways off his shoulder. Swiftly, the Dark Prince reaches his arm around to catch you before you can tumble from his shoulder completely, the fever sleep having finally taken over you. He looks down at you in his hand for a moment, his fierce brow pulling together in a secret moment of worry. Snorting, Samael turns, making his way steadily back to your shared bed. 

[sabraeal]

Prompt: (sorry im a bit late) Something where Obi is very nearly dead after protecting Shirayuki. I mean covered in wounds and her very real realization that he just about died protecting her after she saves him.

Eight bodies lie in the clearing, and it is a miracle not a single one is theirs.

“Well,” Obi laughs darkly, slipping his knives back into their sheath, “that didn’t go how I thought it would.”

Her chest aches, as if her screams ran claws down her lungs, enraged at being denied escape. The endless pound of her heart adds to it, makes her pain stand out as if in bas relief. Its not the fear that keeps her from speaking, but the way her words have clung to her mouth in a confusing jumble, unable to sort themselves into what she needs to say: never do that again.

He turns to her, grin cocked, blood dripping down his face in runnels. A cut lays parallel to his old scar. It runs freely, as all facial wounds are wont, but even though she knows it needs nothing more serious than a good antiseptic and a stitch or two, it moves her.

“You’re wounded,” she tells him. You could have died, sticks in her mouth, not ready to be said.

He raises a hand to his brow, looks down at the blood on his fingers as they pull away. “So I am.”

His gaze drops to the rest of his body, spattered in blood both his and not, taking note of all the shallow cuts that mar his clothes and skin. There are far too many for her to be comfortable with, far too many that were a cut too close.

Obi shrugs, lips parting in a flash of teeth. “No great loss, Miss. Already have mark there anyway.”

Shirayuki mouth curves into a frown. Even if he won’t take it seriously, she is determined not to let him having a matching set.

She picks her way over bandit bodies – sent by one of the lords, just as they predicted – pressing one hand against a trees to steady herself –

“Miss!”

His warning comes a moment too late. She topples against the tree, and whatever had grabbed her ankle is pulling her down as it rises. Her cheek drags down the bark, burning as she hits the ground and sees –

A bandit, sword raised in a killing strike, and oh – this is why Obi is so diligent about checking his dead –

She flinches as the blade thrusts down, her eyes fluttering shut for a single moment, unable to face her own death –

It never comes. She blinks her eyes open just in time to see Obi’s face as the blade runs him through.

She expects to see surprise, to see fear, but instead – instead she sees resolve; she sees relief.

“Son of a –”

This bandit is dead before he can finish, throat grinning red as he falls to the frozen earth.

Obi straightens, staggers. Crimson blossoms around the cut in his jerkin.

“Obi,” she breathes.

He turns to her, smile still firmly in place. “No worries, Miss. I’ve had worse. All I need is –” his hands fumble his knives – “a good sit down –”

One of his blades tumbles to the ground. His body follows a moment later.

“Obi!” Her scream pierces the air, and she just manages to catch him before he hits the ground, her hands slipping on the blood covering his clothes.

She gets him up on his side, keeping his wound from the dirt and snow beneath them. Her bag is still well-stocked – they’re only an hour out from Lyrias, if that, and they had been courting trouble – so the cloths inside are clean and dry. She folds one against his back and the other against his front, and prays that the bleeding will stop.

He’s bleeding heavily but still conscious, clearly in pain but not hazy. “I’ll be fine, Miss,” he tells her, “just lay me down.”

“I’m the pharmacist here,” she reminds him, though she lays him on his back anyway, hoping her pressure will staunch the front and gravity will do for the back. The wound is not gushing, which is promising – at least no major vessel has been hit – and his blood is neither brackish in color nor rotten in scent. Gut wounds are deadly, but if luck carries them, his may not yet be lethal. It is at least not septic, but only time will tell.

She lifts one of her hands – she has antiseptic in her bag, and a few herbs he might chew to stave off infection – and it trembles like a leaf in the wind. It’s only them that she notices her whole body is shaking, the adrenaline of the moment wearing off and leaving her with only soul-gripping fear.

“Miss,” he says, too soft. He puts her hand back against the bandage, rubbing his thumb along the thin bones of her hand. “I’ll be all right.”

“You fought eight men by yourself,” she reminds him. When she closes her eyes she sees that still; a montage of the times he might have met his end had he only been a hair less skilled.

“I beat eight men.” He’s entirely too proud of that accomplishment, bleeding like he is. “Tell Mister that for me.”

“You can tell him yourself,” she claps back tightly. “And you let them get too close. Like you wanted them to hurt you.”

His eyes are hooded when he turns them to her. “Tactic,” he says, as if the word hurts. The shock of his wound must be wearing off. “Makes them drop their guard.”

“It’s dangerous.”

“I’m dangerous, Miss.”

She pulls the cloth from his stomach. Blood still oozes from the wound, but its becomes sluggish, thicker, nearly clotted. It will probably bleed anew if he moves much more than it takes to breathe, but it’s enough that she can clean it, maybe even close it with a few stitches.

She sets to work, letting silence hand between them. Her motions are steady, but she’s surprised to find that her fear has turned to anger. She is seething, livid that he has been so reckless, that for weeks she will probably dream of him bleeding from a thousand cuts, of the serene face he made as that blade ran him through. He’s lucky that this hasn’t killed him, and he will be even luckier if he makes it through –

“Don’t do that again,” she murmurs, taking a little too much pleasure in the way he hisses when she wipes the alcohol over his wound.

“Can’t help you’re always getting me into fights, M –”

“Not that.” She flicks her gaze toward his. “Don’t try to give your life for mine.”

“Miss –”

“I don’t want you to die for me, Obi.” She has never talked like this to him, so serious. “I can’t stand thinking that you might – that I might –” have to live without you. The thought is untenable. “Don’t do it again.”

He doesn’t answer for a long moment.

“Obi?” She glances up at his face, and it pale, too pale –

“It’s so cold, Miss,” he says, his voice too faint.

Her heart stills in her chest. He’s bleeding everywhere, she should have realized – he needs to be treated –

“Won’t you lay down with me?” he asks, “Just this once.”

His pack is on the other side of the clearing, but it’s in her hands in mere moments, her hand digging through its contents until she finds the small paper tubes he’s hidden in the lining.

Red for compromised, he told her this morning, Blue for aid.

He has flint as well, but her hands shake too much for such a delicate task. She picks up one, and tosses it straight into the fire.

The sound is deafening, so close. The tube whistles and pops, and luck sees a trail of smoke shooting skyward, breaking apart in a shower of unmistakable sparks. She just has to hope Makiri’s men are watching.

Shirayuki hurries to Obi’s side, ears ringing as she shouts, “They’ll be here soon. People are coming.”

It’s a lie, they both know, it’ll be an hour at best but – he can hold on that long, surely. She wishes they had something besides snow to lay in, but they had not foreseen being out long enough to use bedrolls or tents.

“I’m cold, Miss.” His hands come out to cover hers. “Lay next to me.”

“You have to fight it, Obi,” she tells him. “That’s the shock talking.”

“I will,” he promises, his hands pulling weekly at hers. “But it would be easier if I was warm.” His eyelids flutter as he looks up at her. “You’re so warm, Miss.”

“A-alright.” She winces as she lays on the cold ground beside him, but even through his coat, he’s warm. “But stay with me. You can’t fall asleep, Obi.”

His eyes are hardly more than a narrow sliver of gold when she peers up at him. “No, no,” he agrees, his fingers gently brushing over the arch of her cheekbones. “No sleeping.”

His palm cups her chin, but there’s none of his gentle strength in it. It’s like she’s being held by smoke rather than flesh.

“Why would I let you go,” he whispers, “when all I ever want is to have you closer?”

His hand drops, laying heavy on her shoulder, his eyes rolling back in his head –

“Obi!” she screams, bolting upright. “Obi, get up!”

A thready pulse beats under her fingertips. He’s alive, alive but –

She can’t lose him. Not like this. She will not trade her life for his.

But only time will tell.

[windwardstar]

Anyway the amount of hostility I get from cis guys who feel threatened by my mere existence as a trans tenor would be hilarious if it weren't so isolating and terrifying. Like please I'm not stealing anything from you and it's not making you any less of a guy just because I can reach lower notes than you and look like a girl. I'm just here having fun and vibing with my new voice.