#my friend is likely taking the brown boy partially pictured here | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blooming-lily-petals · 3 days

Text

(WIP TITLE) Idia X Lilia (WIP TITLE)

AO3 VERS. https://archiveofourown.org/works/59203705/chapters/150967168

Warning Tags and where it’s going to be updated most :3

Summary:

Idia and Lilia find out who each other are. Gloomari and MuscleRed. But first, they start as online friends, then they start online dating then they realize who each other are and start officially dating away from the screen.

Notes Before Reading:

This FanFiction is a huge gamble but I just wanted to make a nice slow burn Idia X Lilia FanFiction.

Having 1 Yuu makes no sense in this FanFiction to me so I kind of had to use MY FIANCÉ AND I’S YUUS:

Who Are Merely Mentioned But No Shows

Juna Katou - Vil’s Yuu

Rinsay Katou - Rook’s Yuu

Hiraku Katou - Epel’s Yuu

Yumino Katou - Azul’s Yuu

Norito “Nori” Katou - Sebek’s Yuu and Idia’s Best Friend Outside of Ignihyde

Kiza Katou - Jack’s Yuu

Jinsuke Katou - Silver’s Yuu

Isara Katou - Malleus’ Yuu

Head Cannon that’s cannon and mentioned in this FanFiction:

Lilia is a transgender male and married Sebek’s grandfather in the past. They had Sebek’s mother. Then YEARS YEARS YEARS LATER, Silver came into the picture and Sebek’s grandfather refused to look after a human baby so Lilia divorced him and raised Silver on his own.

In short, Lilia is Sebek’s literal grandfather in this FanFiction. It’s not a big part of this yet but it’ll kind of be big later on in this FanFiction. You can probably guess why.

Introduction Chapter

Computers were bright screens in the dark, clicking from a keyboard and a mouse echoed the room where no other sound was really heard. The two mages, Idia and Lilia were playing a video game together as Gloomari and Muscle Red. The two still have no idea who the other is. Lilia apologizes to Idia and states that his boys need him and he thanks him for playing with him. Idia just responded ‘it’s cool’ and said goodbye. Then he saved and exited the game. He stared for a moment as the game closed itself and he yawned and stretched, turning his chair then looking at Ortho asleep in his pod. He smiled partially to himself then got up from his computer to go get some ramen from the kitchen of the Ignihyde common room.

A young mage with dark purple almost black hair and bangs hiding one of his eyes, that is his distant cousin was in the common room, doing some sort of hex in the kitchen Idia guesses and he shook his head and said, “Konstantin! Stop hexing in the kitchen!” He scolded. Konstantin yelped, panicked and he ran away. He left the hex tools in the kitchen and Idia saw it, “Clean up your mess!” He tried to say but Konstantin was gone. Idia groaned slightly, “Jeez… am I the only one with common sense here?” He muttered and he knocked Konstantin’s hexing stuff out of the way so he had a good space to make his ramen.

Idia then went over to the cabinet, tripping on someone in the process. He looked at the floor. It was the only senior that he knows of that stays at the school for his senior test. A small man with shoulder length fluffy brown hair and gold eyes. “Eno! Really?! You’re the senior here!” He nudged Eno with his foot and said, “Go to your bed… stop tripping people!” He held his head, “What does it take for a guy to get a late night snack here?” Eno groaned and got up groggily, heading to his bedroom.

Idia was finally able to grab some ramen from the cabinet. But when he turned around to put water in it to cook it in the microwave, he saw another member of his house bringing a random Heartslabyul twink, as Idia calls him, toward his bedroom. This student looked to be a punk with his multiple ear piercings. He had short (flip-like) soft pink hair, blue eyes, two little horns and a devil tail, he was a nymph (like PAIN and Panic from Hercules). “Althea!” He put down his ramen and groaned, going over to Althea. “What, boss?” Althea asked, hiding the twink behind himself. “Put that twink back where you found it, Riddle’s gonna be pissed if he didn’t get permission to come here at midnight. I don’t see Riddle allowing him to come with you this late so don’t try to lie to me about that.” He started and before Althea could respond, Idia continued, “Riddle knows just as much as everyone else what you do with the twinks you bring over at night.” He turned around then hummed, “Besides, Anteros would be pissed, and we wouldn’t want that now, would we?” He finished nonchalantly. “…You won't tell him, will ya boss?” Althea asked and Idia grinned and turned to face Althea, shrugging slightly, “Will I, will I not? Let’s not find that out, okay Althea? Wee-Hee~” he turned back on his heel toward the kitchen and Althea immediately brought the Heartslabyul student back to Heartslabyul.

Just before Idia could put the ramen in the microwave now that he has water in the ramen, he heard screaming. “AHHH!” And running. Idia sighed and rolled his eyes to the back of his head, “Are you freaking kidding me?!” He placed his ramen next to the microwave and left the kitchen again to see why that student was screaming.

It was a little medium length blue haired, pink eyed nymph like Althea, who’s his twin brother. The boy ran and hid behind a couch in the common room with a blanket over his head, shaking. Idia went over to the little nymph. “Pippa…” he knelt down nearby him. “…what happened now?” Pippa screamed when he saw Idia and he hid more, “THIS IS BAD BAD BAD!” Idia let out a sigh. “Was it a nightmare or did you see something that could be your own shadow I presume? Like always?” Pippa looked at Idia from under the blanket, “I want to hide… it was big and scary! Boss! Can you deal with it for me?” Idia raised a brow, “That depends, what is it?” He asked, uninterested. “A M-M-M-MONSTER!” Pippa shivered. Idia took a breath and said, “Yeah, whatever.” Pippa thinks everything is a monster. “Take me to it.” He said, helping Pippa up who hugged onto his arm and led him to the ‘monster’. Idia thinks, ‘It’s probably a spider bug or something.’

Pippa led Idia to the bathroom and he couldn’t open the door, he just stayed back and pointed at the door. “In… in there…” yep, definitely a spider bug. Idia opened the door and said, “Alright…” with a sigh of annoyance. He saw the spider bug and smacked it dead with his hand. “There, all gone. Now do your business and go to sleep.” He said and Pippa looked around the bathroom confusedly but just said, “O-okay… Thank you boss. Sorry boss!” Idia left the bathroom and shut the door. “Finally… I can eat.” He muttered to himself.

When Idia went to the kitchen however, the ramen he left out was not where he left it. The microwave was warm like it was just used and he looked at the dining table and there his ramen was, being eaten by Anteros. A feminine man with long brown hair in a low ponytail and blue eyes. He looked almost like a woman. Idia’s hair began to go orange and red from the roots down as he went out and said, “You… Anteros… you. are. eating. my RAMEN?!” His hair became completely red and orange to show his anger. Anteros looked over, “Calm down Sparky, it’s not that big of a deal.” He took out a marshmallow and put it on a stick, melting it with Idia’s hair. “It was left on the counter for a good ten minutes, getting the noodles all wastable. You’d have to get a new one anyway.” Idia growled and his hair went crazy and even darker versions of orange and red. “I WAS KEEPING THINGS IN ORDER HERE AND HELPING PIPPA!” Anteros shrugged, “Yeah, that’s why I made you a new thing of ramen. It’s done and staying warm in the microwave now.” He said, eating the marshmallow. “Wait, what?” Idia asked, his hair immediately going back to the normal blue as he looked at Anteros confusedly then at the microwave. “Yeah, go see for yourself, Sparky.” Anteros went back to eating the ramen. Idia walked over to the microwave, opened it and there the new ramen was. “An… Anteros…” he looked back at Anteros who hummed and put the dishes in the sink then headed toward his bedroom. “Nighty night, Sparky.” He waved behind himself and he was gone.

Idia stared at his ramen, grabbed some chopsticks then went to his bedroom, eating his ramen while watching something on his computer screens.

Back to when MuscelRed, aka Lilia, signed off. When Lilia and Idia were playing the game, Malleus tapped his shoulder and asked, “Um Lilia, can you help me on how I can do something?” Lilia looked over and nodded, then he said goodbye to Gloomari and signed off. He turned his chair to look at Malleus who looked conflicted.

“Malleus? What’s the advice you need?” Lilia asked. Malleus hummed and said quietly, “You see, I want to go on a… what humans call a ‘date’ with Isara… but I can’t seem to figure out how to go about doing that…” he explained, blushing a bit. “Well Malleus, where do you want to go for this date?” Lilia asked and Malleus smiled, “I’d like to go for a walk around the campus, maybe go see some gargoyles? I heard there were some on campus other than the ones I’ve seen and analyzed but I tend to struggle finding them. How do I go about asking him?” Lilia laughed a bit quietly, “Well firstly, Malleus, gargoyle searching may not tickle the fancy of Isara so maybe you could take him out to do so then have a picnic or something to eat together and chat?” Malleus nodded, then sighed, “I see…” he doesn’t care what he has to do, he just wants to hang out with Isara no matter what. “So, how do I go about doing that? We’re not technically ‘dating’ yet.” Lilia nodded, “Right then, so let’s put a picnic together and put it in the fridge for tomorrow as I tell you how you could ask them. Would you like to help me set up the picnic?” Malleus nodded excitedly and followed.

They went to the kitchen and Lilia started to set up a picnic. “Alright so to go about asking someone on a date who you’re not technically dating yet, you should just ask. Like, don’t necessarily say ‘date’ or anything but be like this; “Hello Isara, might you want to join me on a walk around campus tonight? Maybe even a night’s picnic for dinner?” When he says yes, you tell him when you’ll come to get him for this outing.” He explained, putting the food, snacks and drinks in the basket then putting the basket in the fridge. Knowing Isara is going to say yes because Isara told him he likes Malleus.

Malleus listened attentively and nodded, “Yes, thank you Lilia! To be honest, I’m kind of nervous.” Lilia hummed, “You will be, you like Isara and you want to go on a date with them, nervousness is normal even for a king.” He floated a bit and patted Malleus’ head then he floated down and walked off, “Good luck, Malleus! And have a good time tomorrow, regardless.”

When Lilia exited the kitchen, a raven flew over to him and started to caw frantically. “Oh hello Branwen, what’s wrong? Can you turn into your human form and explain to me?” Branwen looked as if he wasn’t thinking of that for a moment and turned into his human form, a pale skinned boy with black hair that extends to past his shoulders and red bird-like eyes. You would consider him a vampire in specific stories based on what he looks like.

Branwen took a breath and said, “Sorry Lilia, anyway.” He then went into panic mode again and said, “I lost one of the items from my human objects shrine! I don’t know what happened to it but I’ve looked everywhere and I still can’t find it!” Lilia held his hands out, “It’s alright Branwen, breathe. You won’t find that object when you’re panicking like this.” He said and he held his finger at his chin, “What is this object? What did it look like?” Branwen breathed and calmed down, “The object was a small broche, a fake golden rose, it was given to me by Isara the last time Malleus and I visited him and his sibling’s Ramshackle dorm.” Lilia hummed, “I see, where’s the last place you had it?” He asked. “I put it on my uniform just today and it fell off.” Lilia nodded, “Okay and did you take it off your uniform before Sebek took it to get washed?” He asked and Branwen shook his head, “I don’t think I did.” He whimpered in worry. “Ah okay. Hopefully Sebek was as diligent as he usually is.” He said. Branwen followed Lilia to the washroom of the Diasomnia dorm. When they got there, the rose was on a table on the side along with other stuff that can’t be washed in a washer. Branwen squealed happily and grabbed it, “Sebek’s going to be tortured with my hugs when I see him next! Thanks Lilia!” He said and he left. Lilia took a breather and smiled, shaking his head in amusement. “They still give me the energy I need…” he laughed a bit at his own comment then he left back to the common room of Diasomnia.

Once he got there, he heard a loud commotion coming from Sebek and Silver’s bedroom. He sighed. “Here we go again.” He muttered Then he went up to Sebek and Silver’s bedroom.

When Lilia entered, he first saw Branwen and Malleus watching the chaos, then he saw Sebek and Silver arguing with Aspen, a feminine boy with long straight pink hair and bright blue eyes.

“Malleus cannot go alone! It’s too dangerous!” Silver said and Sebek retorted with, “Our AMAZING liege is STRONGER than ANYONE! ANYTHING! He’d wipe the floor with anyone who tries to hurt him!” Aspen was responding with a slyness to his voice, “I’d say let Malleus go with his queen (gender neutral) alone~ a king needs alone time with their queen~” Sebek and Silver gave looks of disgust Aspen’s way and Sebek yelled, “HOW DARE YOU ASSUME SUCH DISGUSTING THINGS?!” Silver shook his head, “Disgusting.” Aspen shrugged, “I’m right though.” Sebek shook his head, “NUH UH! He would never take on a human as queen!” He said but Malleus interjected, “Actually I would if Isara would allow it.” Sebek screams like a pterodactyl and is heart broken.

Lilia goes over to Malleus and Branwen and asks, “What happened?” Branwen looks over and answers, “Malleus told them he was going on a date with Isara tomorrow.” Lilia sighed, “Of course they’re obsessed with that topic…” he muttered.

Silver, Sebek and Aspen started fighting physically. “Gah! SEBEK! SILVER! ASPEN! STOP IT, NOW!” He went over and the three immediately stopped, “Yes Master Lilia (Father)!” Lilia pushed his bangs to the side and looked at the three with a dad look. “Now, explain to me what this immaturity was for!” He ordered. “I’ve raised you three better than this!”

Sebek spoke up first. “It was my fault, Master Lilia. Silver was not accepting that my liege is strong and will be safe around that human and Aspen’s disgusting remarks of Malleus’ escapades with said human; they upset me to a disgraceful degree and they wouldn’t stop so I began to fight them to get them to stop. Lousy choice on my behalf.” He said.

“Well Malleus is strong enough to fend off if Isara does anything which he never will. Silver, you know this better than anyone, you’re dating Isara’s brother Jinsuke. And been dating him in your dreams since your special ability activated. Aspen, those remarks are inappropriate and not something you can think about basically your brother doing it. I know you said it to upset Silver and Sebek…” he scolded them he said sarcastically, “You did so, well done.” Then he said seriously to all three, “Now, stop it! Unless you want to be whooped, you three may all be basically teenagers but it won’t stop me from beating your asses. Got it?” He looked expectantly at the three with a stern dad look. “Yes master Lilia (Father)… sorry master Lilia (Father)…” the three said in unison then they left.

Lilia turned around to see Malleus and Branwen looking shocked and slightly scared like they were the ones being scolded. Malleus laughed a bit and said, “Wow, you still have an intimidating side of you, surprising and very unexpected. Bravo.” He clapped a bit quietly, Lilia shrugged, “Well I try to keep that side of me on the downlow. But it’ll still come out when need be. It’s just not needed as often anymore now that you all are grown.” He sighed, “Oh the memories of raising all of you…” he smiled, slightly reminiscing then he left Sebek and Silver’s room, returning to his own.

Malleus hummed after he watched Lilia leave and he looked at Branwen who shrugged, turned into his raven form and sat on Malleus’ shoulder. Then Malleus left the room.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland diasomnia #twisted Wonderland Ignihyde #twisted wonderland idia shroud #twisted wonderland lilia #twisted wonderland idia #twisted wonderland OCs #twisted wonderland specific MCs only mentioned #twisted wonderland silver #twisted wonderland malleus #twisted wonderland sebek #twisted wonderland ortho #idia shroud #lilia vanrouge #twst idia #twst lilia

1 note · View note

weirdkpopgirl · 2 years

Text

Connection | Jisung Fic 1 (PT.2)

Title: Connection (part two)

Genre: Soulmate au

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1422k

Author’s Note: Here is the second part of the Jisung soulmate request. I’m sorry if this isn’t as good as it could be. But thank you for reading ^ - ^

◦❀◦∘◦❀◦∘◦❀◦∘◦❀◦∘◦❀◦∘◦❀◦∘◦❀◦∘◦❀◦∘◦❀◦∘◦❀◦∘◦❀◦∘◦❀◦∘◦❀◦∘◦❀◦∘◦❀◦∘◦❀◦

“Jisung-ah, what’s wrong?” The leader shook the boy lightly on the shoulder.

“Hyung…I think my soulmate is here,” He said, still looking at his soulmate. He was afraid that he would lose her in the crowd if he looked away.

Mark gasped, “Wait, seriously? Where?”

Jisung hesitantly gestured in the direction of the girl with soft brown eyes and long, chestnut hair. He was still trying to make sense of it all. Was this real?

Did he really find you?

┈┈

You still haven’t quite fathomed the fact that the main dancer of a famous k-pop group was your soulmate. It was hard to concentrate on the performances and mini-games the guys did. But the more you thought about it, the more it all began to make sense. Dancing, schedules, being up at crazy hours. How had you not put it all together until now?

Before you knew it, the event was nearly over. The last part was letting the VIPs go up to take pictures with the members. Excitedly, Seoyeon dragged you with her to get in line.

But you struggled to be excited with her. Somehow with all the craziness that’s happened to you lately, being in this situation was not what you imagined. Jisung had definitely noticed you in the crowd. And now you were mere minutes away from being face to face.

Seoyeon lightly shook your shoulder, “(Y/n)-ah, are you not feeling well today? You look like you’re about to have a panic attack.”

You shrugged her off and smiled, trying to hide the fact that you were trying not to freak out. “Just nervous, I guess,” You said quietly, not wanting to worry your friend.

Stuck in your thoughts, you almost didn’t notice when it was your turn to go up. The members greeted you both politely as the staff members ushered you guys around to prepare for the camera. Coincidentally, you were positioned in front of Jisung.

“It’s you, isn’t it?”

Your heart nearly leaped out of your chest when you heard him speak.

“I—um…” You stuttered, seeming to have forgotten how to form sentences.

The two of you exchanged a short glance before the cameras rolled and the photo was taken just like that. But before you could be led off the stage, Jisung slipped a piece of paper into your hand.

Understanding what he was trying to do, you crumpled the paper in your fist and opened it once you were a good distance away. The note said to meet him after the fan meeting was over. Though your hands were trembling and the apprehension was overwhelming, you told Seoyeon to go first as you were going to wait for the bus.

That was how you found yourself anxiously waiting in the lobby of the venue. After some time passed, you wondered if you were being tricked. But just as you were losing hope, a tall boy wearing a black hoodie showed up.

“Hey. Sorry for making you wait,” He said, slightly out of breath.

“I-It’s okay,” You heard yourself say.

You blinked a few times, hardly able to believe that Park Jisung was still in front of you. Before you were never too interested in celebrities and you’ve only become a fan of his recently. Although all his makeup was removed, and his shaggy bangs partially covered his eyes, you still felt starstruck. Which you felt slightly ashamed for being swayed so easily. He was just a normal human being at the end of the day.

Jisung suggested you guys talk somewhere that’s more private. So he brought you backstage into one of the dressing rooms. You were kind of stiff around each other, considering you were both socially awkward people.

“I think I heard your friend calling you (Y/n)?” Jisung eventually spoke first, though he was terrified. He wasn’t used to being alone with a girl.

You tried not to look too shocked. It just felt weird to hear him say your name.

“Yeah, Kim (Y/n).”

“I guess it’s nice to know that my soulmate is a fan,” He joked, after another small silence.

You nervously fidgeted with the strap on your bag. “I actually heard you singing in your thoughts and that’s how I discovered your music.”

“Oh really?”

He didn’t expect that. To think that he was the reason you became a fan. If you hadn’t heard him, you’d probably have an even lesser chance of finding each other.

“Yeah, I guess I should thank you,” You said.

Jisung smiled and asked what songs of theirs you liked. He watched as your eyes brightened when you answered his question. As the conversation continued on its own, both of you began to feel more relaxed around each other.

You told him you were attending a university and majoring in psychology. It now made sense to Jisung, why you spent so much time studying. On the other hand, he told you what it was like being an idol and how it can get tiring at times. Though nervous to be around each other at first, letting things flow naturally seemed to work out best for you both.

Maybe it was because you were soulmates. But the more you talked to Jisung, the more you could see yourself falling for him. He pretty much felt the same way.

┈┈

(bonus)

A few months have passed since you and Jisung found each other. Neither of you had much experience with dating, so you took things slowly. It was sort of exciting to see your bond grow. He also let you meet his members who were super loud, but supportive to you both.

One of the strangest things you two discovered was how physical affection seemed to strengthen you. For example, if you two held hands, you would feel energized for the rest of the day.

Eventually, as you got closer, you guys learned that hugs felt even nicer. Jisung was taller than you, but he was so gentle. Hugging brought you two so much warmth and comfort, especially on tiring days.

“You know, there’s one thing we still haven’t tried,” Jisung said to you one day. The two of you were chilling on the couch, at his dorm.

You looked up from the book in your hands and raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“You know…kissing,” He muttered, fidgeting with his phone.

Already, you worked the courage to give each other an occasional peck on the cheek or forehead. But Jisung had been wondering how it would feel to really kiss you. He just wasn’t too sure how to go about it.

Once you understood the message, a smile crept on your face. Feeling a little daring, you locked arms with the boy next to you.

“Do you want to try and see what happens?”

Without a second thought, he nodded eagerly which slightly surprised you. How were you going to do this without blushing like crazy?

“Please don’t laugh if it turns out I’m a terrible kisser,” You said.

Jisung chuckled, “If anything, I’d be bad at it.”

Nervous laughs were exchanged, unsure of where to put your hands or which angle was best. You took a deep breath and met Jisung’s eyes, trying to ignore how fast your heart was beating right now.

“Let’s just take it slow,” You murmured. “There’s no need to rush things.”

Jisung nodded, his hands cupped your face as you placed yours atop his shoulders. To your surprise, Jisung made the first move and leaned in to kiss you. You didn’t expect kissing him to feel so soft and sweet.

It was a little messy at first, both of you being new to this. But it didn’t take long for you to adjust. You found yourself gripping a little tighter to his sweatshirt, as the kiss slowly became more passionate.

Eventually, you realized you needed to breathe. The two of you pulled away with moist lips and slightly tousled hair.

“Was it bad?” You brought yourself to ask, still a little self-conscious.

Jisung shook his head and brought you closer to him.

“I think I must just become addicted to you, (Y/n)-ah.”

“Well, it’s a good thing we’re soulmates isn’t it?” You leaned your head against his shoulder, wearing a shy smile.

His words were kinda cheesy. But you honestly felt the same. You felt so much stronger after you kissed, feeling like you could take on the whole world.

So consider this little experiment a success?

◦❀◦∘◦❀◦∘◦❀◦∘◦❀◦∘◦❀◦∘◦❀◦∘◦❀◦∘◦❀◦∘◦❀◦∘◦❀◦∘◦❀◦∘◦❀◦∘◦❀◦∘◦❀◦∘◦❀◦∘◦❀◦

part one

#nct #nct dream #jisung soulmate au #park jisung #nct soulmate au #kpop #fluff #soulmate fic #nctzen #czennie #jisungie

64 notes · View notes

onceupon · 3 years

Text

London Boy - Part 4: Just friends

summary: You wake up to find Rafe Cameron in your bed. Even though nothing happened, you’re still left trying to make sense of it all.

pairing: Rafe x reader (slowburn)

warnings: swearing, drinking

word count: 5k

a/n: thank you so much to all of you who have been reading along <333 sorry in advance if you want this to progress faster haha, it simply must be this slow, sorry I don't make the rules (even tho I do lol). Not canon Rafe!!

masterlist

Your eyes slowly flutter open as the early morning rays wake you up. You didn’t even remember falling asleep. As you slowly gain consciousness you’re startled by the weight of Rafe’s arm draped across your body. What the hell? When did that happen? He spent the night in your bed?

Your mind races at a million miles an hour as you slowly slip out from under his hold. You were careful not to wake him up, not wanting to face any awkwardness. You throw on fresh clothes and grab your backpack, desperate to make your escape. You had wanted to get to school early today to work on some homework anyways, never before so eager to trade in the comfort of your bed for the library.

After a quick pit stop to pick up a coffee and a croissant, you swing the heavy wooden doors open. You liked campus at this hour, the morning light still soft, the air crisp, and the atmosphere silent. As you scan your eyes for a spot to sit, you notice the unmistakable sight of fluffy brown hair hunched over a table.

“Liam?” your whisper. “What the hell are doing here?”

That classic cheeky grin spreads across his face as he looks up to find you standing in front of him. “I go here, Y/n. Forget already?”

You roll your eyes, “I just didn’t know you were the studious type.”

“Not gonna lie to you babe, I’m not. But Rogers is already all the way up my ass over this class, and I’m not letting that prick hold me back a year.”

You pull out the chair across from him and go to sit down, spreading your books out on the table.

“Who said you could sit with?” he asks, and you shoot him a look. You’re not in the mood. “Geez alright, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed… you good Y/n?” he slows, taking in your disheveled appearance. You hadn’t so much as brushed your hair.

“Can you promise not to tell anyone,” you stare dead into his eyes.

“On my life,” he extends his pinky, and you accept.

“Rafe… slept over last night…”

“Oh shit!” he exclaims, and your eyes widen at his echoing voice.

“Not like that,” you hiss, not wanting to draw anymore attention to the two of you. “Nothing happened… like he just came over to watch a show and then we talked for a while and just accidentally… fell asleep. I panicked when I woke up and realized he was still in my bed so I ran out of there as fast as I could and now…. well now I’m here.” You nervously chug your coffee, heart racing.

“So he hung out with you all night and didn’t make a move?”

You nod, nervously awaiting his analysis as you take a bite of your croissant.

“Damn, boy must really like you,” he muses.

“What? Definitely not,” you scoff.

“Y/n, let me tell you a little something about guys. If we really like you, we’re gonna make the time to hang out with you, no matter what. The fact that he’s coming over your room to watch a show and hanging out with you until he physically can’t stay awake - I mean I can’t make it any more obvious to you.”

“I don’t know I just don’t think so… You don’t know Rafe like that, he’s a total player back home. He can pull any girl he wants, so if he liked me like that he would’ve done something by now. This is probably how he is with all his friends and I’m just reading too much into it. I’m sure Lily Colts will be in his bed soon enough,” you mumble. That last part stings in particular, you had already thought it, but saying it out loud made you feel… icky.

“I may not know Rafe like that, but I know guys like him. I am guys like him. He likes you Y/n. So what if he pulls a lot of chicks, he doesn’t actually care about them. But he cares about you, probably can’t even understand why, and now it’s like bam Uno reverse. He can’t pull the cards he normally does, and now you’ve got him confused and he doesn’t know what to do. Man’s down bad. Give him time though, he’ll come around,” he explains to you calmly, stealing your coffee cup from you and taking a sip.

“Honestly can I just start paying you to figure my life out for me. You make everything seem so simple.”

“Because it is simple. You insist on complicating it. But I know how you could pay me,” he adds with a wink and you shoot him a glare. You know he’s just joking (partially), he loves pushing your buttons.

“Well whatever. I’ll believe it when I see it,” you resign on the Rafe matter. You wanted to believe what Liam was saying but it didn’t quite make sense to you. You were only going to drive yourself crazy trying to read between lines that you weren’t sure existed. Rafe was just used to situations like this with girls. To him last night was probably no big deal. It was to you though. You would never let ‘just a friend’ stay over like that, with his arm around you no less. But Rafe didn’t need to know that, you decide.

—-

You manage to avoid Rafe all day, not having any classes with him on Friday’s. As soon as your last class is over, you sprint home, relieved when you’re the first back at the flat and can quickly slip into your room undetected. You set down your bag and sit on the edge of your bed. Your hand slowly runs over your comforter, still ruffled from where Rafe had been laying the night before. The indent of his head is still on your pillow; you can almost smell the scent of him lingering in your room and hear the sound of his soft whispers. You wonder what his first thoughts were when he woke up in your bed alone - was he confused? Embarrassed? He probably thought nothing of it at all. You can just picture him casually getting up with a stretch, like it’s the start of any typical day.

You slip into the shower and let the water wash over your body. It’s warm and soothing, and it’s reminding you of Rafe laying next to you, of his arm wrapped around you. God if there was only a way to shut your brain off once in a while. As much as you tried to suppress it, there had been a tiny part of you that was happy to have woken up in his embrace, giddy like a school girl with a crush. You’d always wondered how a moment like that would feel, or how a moment like that with him would feel. You had conveniently failed to mention the “arm” detail to Liam, maybe because in the back of your mind you knew it would only help prove his theory right.

When you make your way back to your room, your phone buzzes and the Royal Fam 🇬🇧🇺🇸 group chat appears.

Olivia: who wants to go out tonight 😈

Topper: me and Rafe have to be up early tmrw for soccer - rain check on this one ladies

Olivia: :(

Olivia: girls night out??

Millie: you know I’m there!

You’re a little bummed that Rafe won’t be there tonight. But a girls night sounds like just what you need to get him off your mind.

Y/n: I’m in :)

Not even a few minutes later Olivia and Millie are barging into your room, causing you to let out a startled yelp.

“My god, heard of knocking,” you exhale with your hand coming to your chest. Your statement falls on death ears.

“Which jeans with this top,” Olivia asks, holding the clothing items against her body.

“Should I curl or straighten my hair with this,” Millie follows, holding her outfit up.

“Uhh,” your mind scrambles, “those jeans Liv. And straight, Mills,” you reply, shocked by your own decidedness. “But now you guys have to help me, I have no clue what to wear.”

“Say less,” Olivia flashes a smile.

Within minutes they tear through your closet, picking out your outfit. Things were always much more clear with a fresh set of eyes. The three of you discuss the night’s logistics before making your way to the kitchen - couldn’t go drinking on an empty stomach. Rafe and Topper are already there, and you try your best to act natural even though your stomach ties itself in a knot the moment you catch a glimpse of his face. You haven’t seen him since you ran out this morning.

“Uh hey I’m gonna run to Sainsbury’s real quick, I wanna get a chaser, anyone need anything,” you ask, avoiding eye contact with Rafe. Your nerves get the best of you and in terms of fight or flight, you were ready to flee.

“Hey wait I’ll come with you. Gotta pick something up for dinner,” Rafe stands grabbing his jacket, and before you can interject, he’s leading the way down the hall and out your shared flat.

“So what are you chasing tonight?”

“What?” you ask startled, his question pulling you back to reality. Your mind had been running in a loop, trying to read him and the thoughts in his head. You wished now more than ever that you knew what Rafe was like behind closed doors back home, so you could somehow make sense of it all.

He chuckles at you, lost in your own world. “You said you needed a chaser?” Those intimidating blue eyes have found their way to yours again and you hastily look away, focusing in front of you instead.

“Oh yeah- uh just for the vodka,” you laugh nervously.

“Basic,” he mocks. You scoff in surprise and lightly hit him on the chest as the laughter leaves your lips. He’s sporting a shit-eating grin, having successfully egged you on.

“You’re funny if you think I’m gonna do shots of whiskey before going to a club.”

“Well you do owe me one…” he says.

“Oh so he remembers?” you reply, amused.

“Of course,” he states so calm and so sure. Your head swirls at that, his cool confidence making you melt. The automatic doors slide open in front of you, fluorescent lights stealing your attention from the boy you were finding dangerously more attractive by the second.

“I thought we’re supposed to take it together? But someone’s being lame and not coming out tonight,” you say sarcastically, playing it as cool as you can manage. Rafe’s confidence seemed to come naturally, but you were more of a fake-it-till-you-make-it kind of gal.

“Hey you know I have soccer,” he defends. The Kook Prince was not one to turn down a party without cause.

“Excuses excuses,” you shake your head.

“Actually, speaking of soccer, you uh- you and the girls should come tomorrow. If you’re not doing anything. Or not too hungover I should say. Game’s at 12.”

“Can’t make any promises Cameron, but we’ll see,” you smile, earning a satisfied smile from him in return.

You make your way to the frozen food aisle, Rafe explaining to you how they call a soccer field a football pitch here, as you laugh at him grabbing 5 frozen pizzas (dinner solved for the next week, of course). You ask him which chaser you should pick. He points out a cola, so naturally you decide to get blackberry seltzer water, Rafe twisting his face in disgust (who would voluntarily drink that tv static). You always felt so nervous at first, to be in Rafe’s presence, but all it ever took was a few minutes for you to completely relax around him. He was intimidating, yet inviting. Mysterious, yet open. He was somehow the cause of your anxious nerves and yet the source of your comfort. The fear of facing Rafe after running out this morning had paralyzed your thoughts all day, and now you could hardly remember why. He hadn’t mentioned it at all, as if nothing happened. His normalcy confirmed for you that him sleeping over was in fact no big deal, and you almost want to laugh at yourself for how much you had worked it up in your head. You two were just friends, and perhaps Rafe was used to being… a friendlier friend than what you were used to. But that was okay, you could learn to be friendlier too.

—-

Rafe and Topper had decided to accompany you guys in the kitchen as you pregamed. They slowly sipped beers as you, Millie, and Olivia pounded back shots, laughing at the way you guys got progressively drunker and progressively louder before finally heading out. And much to your surprise, the boys were still seated in the same spot hours later, when the three of you stumble back into the flat, McDonalds in hand.

“Oh look who’s still up,” Olivia slurs, taking a bite of her cheeseburger.

“We can’t go out, we have soccer,” Millie mocks, almost falling to the floor as she trips over her heel, Topper and Rafe not making any effort to hide their clear amusement.

“Fun night huh?” Topper quirks his brow.

“The funnest,” Millie holds her head high, sinking down against the wall until she’s sat on the floor. You had made a beeline for the dining room table, silently admiring your chicken nuggets. In that moment, they were the best thing you had ever tasted.

“I want Jake,” Olivia pouts, and before anyone can say a word she’s turned on her heel, burger in hand, off to crawl into her boyfriend’s bed.

“Alright you drunk, let’s get you to bed,” Topper laughs, scooping an incoherent Millie up to her feet by her elbows.

“M’not drunk,” Millie protests, even though she’s leaning her full body weight against Topper who sarcastically nods at her, escorting her down the hallway. Rafe sits on the couch, silently playing with the cards in his hand again, not the least bit uncomfortable with sharing your company in silence.

“I’m mad at you,” you say matter of factly, taking a bite of a french fry. At this point, the alcohol is doing the talking.

“Mad at me?” Rafe stops shuffling the cards and raises his head to look at you, intrigued.

“Yeah because you didn’t come to the club,” you furrow your brows, chucking a fry at him. He catches it instantly, laughing to himself with a shake of his head.

“Don’t worry I saw all your guys’ snaps, I feel like I was practically there.”

“That’s not the same,” you frown, throwing another fry which he catches yet again.

“I’ll try to be there next time,” he laughs.

“That’s better I guess,” you grumble, eating another chicken nugget. The room grows quiet, Rafe training his attention back to the cards.

“When are we watching the next episode Cameron,” you break the silence, chucking another fry. He barely has to look up to catch your latest throw, shaking his head with a chuckle. He puts the cards down and makes his way over to the dining table, standing right above you now.

“Come on, time for you to go to bed,” he beckons you toward him with his arm, to which you only furrow your brows in indignation.

“I’m not done with my food,” you protest.

“Now you are,” he says, grabbing your last fry and finishing it with one bite. “Now c’mon.” You reluctantly grab onto his extended arm to help you get up. You walk down the hall together and he opens your door for you, letting you in as he leans against the frame. You immediately fall back and collapse on to your bed with a gasp, you didn’t remember it feeling so soft when you were sober.

“Goodnight L/n,” Rafe laughs, staring down at you.

“Goodnight Rafe,” you mumble, seconds away from passing out. He smiles to himself at the sight of you still in the outfit and shoes you had been out in, bent in surely the most uncomfortable position possible, legs half way off the bed, yet somehow already asleep. He’s about to head back to his room, but he hesitates, turning back to you with a sigh. As slowly and quietly as he can, he pulls your shoes off for you, lifts your legs onto the bed, and covers you in your blanket. And just as quick, he slips out of your room and back into his.

—-

You wake up the next morning, letting out a groan when you realize you’re still in the outfit you had worn clubbing. Your head dully aches and your throat is desert dry so you force yourself up and to the kitchen. When you see the aftermath of McDonald’s containers on the table, vague memories start flooding your brain in horror. You couldn’t have… could you? Did you actually throw french fries at him? You close your eyes and slowly run your hand over your face in realization. Great, you think to yourself, Rafe probably thinks you’re an annoying idiot. Good grief.

You hear the door of the flat opening and Olivia appears in the kitchen, holding a plate of breakfast sandwiches, your mouth watering at the sight.

“Thank the lovely lads in apartment 4E,” she laughs, placing them on the table. “Oh god, we went hard last night didn’t we,” she says, taking in the sight of the flat.

“A little too hard…” you remark.

“No such thing, darling! Now eat up and get dressed, we’ve got a match to catch,” she declares before disappearing down the hall where you can hear muffled groans of Millie being reluctantly dragged out of her bed. You sigh and sink down into a chair, grabbing a sandwich and taking a bite. Heaven. You make a mental note to thank Jake for his chef skills. You had completely forgotten that you and the girls were supposed to go watch Rafe and Topper’s match today. Your worries about having to face Rafe yesterday had been quick to melt away, but today they were back with a new vengeance.

—-

“Okay no one wander off when we get there. Y/n, fair warning, these games get… rowdy,” Millie says, as the three of you walk toward the field, arms linked.

“Things get pretty crazy at Kildare too,” you laugh, “so yeah, don’t fucking let me out of your sight.”

The three of you shake off your fits of laughter as you stumble toward the stands, finding a spot amongst the already packed crowd. You’re finally able to take in your surroundings, glancing at the field ahead. The opposing team is warming up on the pitch, clad in red. Westheath’s team is off to the side, the boys stretching and getting ready in their white uniforms. The dirty blonde immediately catches your eye. He’s jumping and jogging in place, headphones in as though he’s tuning out the physical noise around him, and probably the mental noise too. You wonder if he’s listening to one of the songs he showed you the other night.

He pauses his jogging to stretch out his arms, his eyes glazing over the stands, when suddenly they lock with yours. Your cheeks flush pink, embarrassed at having been caught staring, but his face just pulls into a wide grin and he gives you a wave. You wave back, and he does a quick hand motion that everyone does at Kildare games back home. You laugh and do the responding gesture, as he smiles cheekily at you before a teammate comes up to him, pulling his focus away. The exchange was brief, but oddly intimate. There was a whole field and a couple dozen people between you, and yet you two were the only witnesses to the interaction. You smile to yourself, relief in the fact that maybe getting a french fry chucked at him wasn’t enough to make him hate you after all. You wonder briefly if Rafe spends half as much time overanalyzing things the way you do. Liam was right, you do insist on overcomplicating things.

“Hey, earth to Y/n!” Olivia laughs, waving her hand in front of your face. “The game is starting!”

—

The final score flashes on the screen: 4-2, a win for Westheath. The students are going nuts, rushing the field. Olivia and Millie lead the way, pushing through the crowd until you guys reach Rafe and Topper.

“Let’s go boys!!” Olivia yells, jumping up and down with the sea of bodies and beer around you. Rafe and Topper react with equal enthusiasm, pulling each of you in for a hug. You and Rafe are the last to hug, him pulling you in brief but close against his large sweaty body, arms wrapped around you. You don’t even mind the stickiness of the hug, feeling deja vu at the warm feeling of being in his embrace again; a feeling that is foreign yet familiar, one you hadn’t felt before.

“Did you guys see Rafe’s goal in the second half!?” Topper asks, clapping his friend on the back.

“Of course we did, super star!” Millie cheers, giving Rafe a high five as he humbly shakes his head and laughs at his friends. The mental image of his goal was burned in your head, one that your mind would certainly play for you involuntarily over the next coming days.

“Alright we gotta go do some stuff with the team, but everyone’s going to Central Bar later. See you guys there?” Rafe asks.

“You got it,” Olivia replies, and they jog off with quick waves, you meeting those blue eyes in silent acknowledgement once again. It was that gaze that always made the rest of the world seem to disappear while his eyes met yours, making your heart skip a beat. He’s just a friend, you remind yourself. Just a tall, attractive, soccer-playing friend…

—

“Y/n! Liv! We’re doing a round!” Jake calls you and Olivia over to where him and Liam are already at the bar, four shot glasses ordered and lined up.

“On three! One, two-“ Liam chants, as the four of you down the alcohol. Central Bar had been buzzing with what felt like half of Westheath’s student body all day. After the game, you and the girls had gone back to your flat to nap and eat, before meeting up with Jake, Liam, and the rest of their boys to head to the bar. Rafe and Topper were already pretty buzzed when you guys got there, playing a round of table tennis with you before the rest of the soccer team and their other friends pulled their attention away. You couldn’t help the way your whole body tensed when Rafe greeted Lily with a tight hug, humbling you with the confirmation that Rafe’s actions toward you weren’t anything special. You resolved yourself to a night of drinking and dancing your worries away with Liv and Liam instead.

“Alright, round of table tennis? You two against me and Y/n?” Liam challenges.

“Please, I saw Y/n playing before, you guys have nothing on us,” Olivia flashes an evil smile, her competitive side coming out.

“Oh it’s on Liv,” you laugh, as your foursome stakes your claim at the pong table. While Olivia and Jake gather the balls and paddles, you notice Liam grimacing off into the distance. You follow his line of sight, landing on Topper and Millie drunkenly dancing together across the bar, a bit too close for comfort.

“What is she doing with that geezer,” he mumbles.

“Liam! Jealousy is unbecoming of you,” you gasp in mock disbelief.

“I’m not jealous,” he scoffs, and you quickly realize that he actually is, even though you had just been joking. Your jaw falls slack as you put two and two together. Liam and Millie were always by each other’s side, at school, at the pub, when you were all watching a movie at his apartment a few nights ago. He would tease her relentlessly and his own words rang in your ears If we really like you, we’re gonna make the time to hang out with you, no matter what.

“Shut up! Shut up!,” you whisper yell, hand coming to your mouth. “I should have realized this whole time… of course you like Millie! Everything you’ve been telling me you think exists between me and Rafe has actually been about her! She’s your Uno reverse card!” You’re shocking even yourself at these revelations.

“No no no, you can’t use my own words of wisdom against me, that’s not how this works Y/n. So what, maybe I slightly give a shit about Millie? Who cares. Her and I both know that’s never gonna happen. I still stand by everything I said about you and Rafe so don’t think your getting off so easy on that.”

“Then tell me why you’re staring at Millie while Rafe hasn’t so much as glanced my way since the minute Lily Colts got here, hmm?”

“Oh Y/n, Y/n Y/n Y/n,” Liam tuts, shaking his head laughing as he turns to the game your group of four is about to begin. You don’t have the energy to argue with Liam over the matter right now, oblivious to the fact that Rafe had indeed been glancing your way, several times. In fact, he was glancing at you right now, as Liam reached his arm over yours to help you actually hold the paddle the right way. You just hadn’t been glancing back to notice, scared of what you may or may not see between him and Lily if you did.

—

The night dies down and it’s time for the pilgrimage back to your building. You’re walking with Millie when Liam quickly falls in step with you two. You give him a knowing smirk, to which he responds with a glare behind Millie’s back, but you let the two banter as you fall behind, now walking alone. You stare ahead, eyes mindlessly settling on Lily walking in between Callum and Henry at the front of the pack. You don’t notice the pair of legs that begin moving in pace next to your own.

“Tonight, by the way,” Rafe’s voice startles you as you jump next to him. He chuckles at the confusion written all over your face. “You asked last night when we’re watching the next episode. And my answer is tonight, L/n,” he states.

“Haven’t you been up since like the crack of dawn? Aren’t you tired?” you ask incredulously.

“Too tired for Game of Thrones? Never,” he scoffs, Liam’s words ringing in your ear. If we really like you, we’re gonna make the time to hang out with you, no matter what.

“Well then tonight it is,” you smile. “Sorry about the french fries last night by the way,” you say meekly, looking down at the sidewalk in front of you, cheeks burning.

“Seriously L/n, talk about a horrible throw. Room for improvement,” he jokes with a comforting smile, saving you from yourself.

“Good game by the way,” you add, grateful for the way he was letting you off.

“Thanks,” he looks at you, shoving his hands in his pocket. You turn to look at him too, and after a few moments laughter is taking you both apart. Nothing funny was said. Neither of you knew why you were laughing. And yet it felt natural, not an ounce of awkwardness in the air.

As your whole group walks into the building, people begin to peel off, splitting towards staircases and off elevator stops.

“I’m fucking beat,” yawns Topper, as you and all your flatmates file into your hall.

“I’m gonna sleep like a baby tonight,” Millie yawns in agreement. One by one everyone files off into their rooms. You open your door, backing into yours, Rafe across the hall from you backing into his. Laughter tugs at both your faces once again, as you let your doors close. You manage to change into your sweats and brush your teeth before you hear the light rap on your door. Rafe enters, in a t-shirt and gray sweatpants, your weakness. But you feel comfortable being alone with him now. The Rafe jitters had finally began to subside.

“Alright L/n, episode 4, you ready for this?” he asks, plopping down in his spot next to you.

“Oh I’m very ready,” you reply, sitting up to reach for your laptop which was resting by your feet. As you lean back, you find yourself in Rafe’s arm. He had extended it out before you sat back, effortlessly catching you against him. His hand rests casually on your arm, and you gulp, pressing play. You pray he can’t feel the way your heartbeat quickens and your body flushes. So much for those jitters being gone.

The episode plays, you and Rafe making comments here and there before your chatter eventually dies down, leaving just the sound of the show to fill the room. You can feel Rafe’s body lean further and further down, becoming heavier and breathing slower. You very slowly turn to check, and sure enough he’s fast asleep. You sigh, and shut your laptop, careful not to stir him. You could easily shake him awake, tell him to go to his bed, but for some reason you don’t. You don’t mind him here. In fact, you almost prefer it, his body heat keeping you warm. He had already slept over once before and it clearly hadn’t been a big deal, so what was the harm in letting it happen again? You’re just friends after all, you remind yourself, not sure who you’re trying to convince. And so, the two friends fall asleep in the same bed again.

---

🏷: @hopebaker @pogueslandia @mardema

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron imagine

112 notes · View notes

writingfortoomanyfandoms · 4 years

Text

The Only Woman

Pairing: (Henry Cavill!)Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Requested: Yep - “Hello Ma’amMay I request a Sherlock Holemes x Redaer?That when they were younger she was BSF with Sherlock and Mycroft. And all of the sudden they disappeared and never wrote to her a letter or nothing. And she got closer to Enola and when Edoria disappeared she reunites with Sherlock and Mycroft and Reader is Mad and Sad that he left without saying nothing. She always was in love with him and at the end she finds out he also was in love with her! And lots of fluffThank You so MuchAnonymous (she/her/hers)”

Summary: Basically just the request

Warnings: Probably some swearing, some 20th century misogyny, pining, fluff, angst, denial, all that fun stuff, probably ooc Sherlock but we vibe with it because he’s soft af

A/N: My first full length Sherlock fic! I should mention that my requests aren’t actually open right now, especially not for full fics but I was inspired by this request and so decided to make it into a full one! I hope you guys enjoy, please remember to reblog, comment or send an ask letting me know what you think and if you want to see me write more for Sherlock (and Henry and his other characters for that matter) in the future!

Y/N had been essentially another resident of the Holmes household her whole life, having been introduced to the family through the two boys - Sherlock and Mycroft, whom she had run into while out playing in the woods. Her family lived in the house nearest to the Holmes residence, technically making them neighbours.

Sherlock and Mycroft didn’t exactly do ‘friends’, that much had been clear even to Y/N’s young mind after meeting them. She was a year and a half younger than Sherlock and yet she still knew more about interacting with other people than he did. Not that either of the Holmes boys had ever seemed interested in other people, they had their brains to keep them occupied, and when they failed to find entertainment in learning, they had each other.

Despite this, they took a shine to Y/N when they found her playing make-believe on her own in the woods and insisted that she come over to have dinner with them and their family.

Mr and Mrs Holmes had gone out of their way, following that initial visit, to make Y/N feel as welcome as possible at Ferndell Hall. At first this was simply because they were astounded that their sons had actually made a friend and seemed interested in maintaining this friendship, but then it was partially as a result of the somewhat turbulent relationship that it became clear Y/N had with her family.

Eudoria in particular had ensured that Y/N knew she could always come and visit, that there was a spare bedroom that could be set up should she require it, which Y/N only began to take advantage of as she grew up and the rows with her parents over her future became more frequent.

However, it was always Sherlock that she was closest to. While she considered Mycroft a friend, and he had grudgingly returned the sentiment, they had never clicked in the same way that Y/N had with Sherlock. Occasionally Mycroft would storm off midway through a game, frustrated by Sherlock’s intelligence which so trumped his and Y/N’s, or he would simply decide that he was ‘above’ having friends.

Sherlock never much minded Y/N hanging around though. Truthfully, now that she was grown, Y/N looked back at their years of friendship and couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps his reason for tolerating her company was because she gave him the awed reactions that he secretly desired from his intelligence.

She had fond memories of her childhood with the Holmes. At Ferndell she never felt the need to pretend to be a young lady ready to be married that her parents so desperately wanted her to be, even as a child. Mr Holmes encouraged her to continue her studies beyond what her Governess would teach her, and Eudoria actively tried to teach her all that she could, going so far as to teach her alongside her sons on occasion - Mycroft wasn’t exactly fond of that, though Sherlock appeared to enjoy her company.

And then there was Enola, a surprisingly timid child considering the family that she had been born into - though Eudoria was convinced that her shyness was a trait that she would soon grow out of. Enola adored Y/N.

While Sherlock and Mycroft paid their little sister no mind, too caught up in their own lives to acknowledge their baby sister’s, Y/N was fond of Enola. Having grown up in a male-dominated household with only brothers for company, she had always wanted a younger sister.

It was Mr Holmes’ death that changed everything.

Not long after his death, Y/N was saying goodbye to her two closest friends as they left for Boarding School. Y/N had promised to write to them and had been encouraged to do so by Sherlock, who seemed thrilled by the prospect of their continued communication and Mycroft had also seemed somewhat in favour of the idea.

Y/N wrote to the brothers for a year after they left. Her letters to Sherlock in particular were long and full of detail about both her life, her parents continued attempts to interest her in marriage and her attempts to further her education, as well as the lives of Eudoria and Enola.

After a year of these letters, however, Y/N had yet to receive word from either brother and thus, with a heavy heart, she had halted her letter writing and turned her mind away from the Holmes brothers.

Eudoria had ensured that Y/N still knew that she was welcome whenever she wanted to come over, however, and so Y/N’s life at Ferndell continued even with the absence of the boys she had considered to be her closest friends.

Y/N had been the first to be informed that Eudoria had disappeared, Enola having ran over to her house the day of her sixteenth birthday in a state of distress, imploring the older woman to help her. They had agreed that it was best for Sherlock and Mycroft to be contacted at once, with Sherlock’s career, Enola had been certain that her brother would make himself indispensable.

Y/N had been less keen on writing to the Holmes brothers, dreading having to see her old friends again, still far more hurt than she could care to admit about their silence following their departure. Every time in the past week that Enola had brought up the topic of her brothers, Y/N had been quick to change the subject.

A decision that she was coming to regret now that she approached Ferndell to find an automobile parked outside of it. Y/N bit back a groan, aware that its presence more than likely meant that Sherlock and Mycroft would be waiting inside.

Y/N didn’t knock before she entered, she never had as she had basically been a part of the family over the past few years.

She could hear the low mumble of voices coming from the drawing room, which were becoming steadily louder and Y/N’s expression dropped into a deep frown as she stepped towards the room, recognising Enola’s voice, breaking with emotion, even through the closed doors.

Before she could place her hand on the knob, however, the door was flung open and Enola rushed out, crashing into Y/N, who almost dropped the bags she was holding.

“Enola?” Y/N breathed, her hands gripping onto the young girl’s shoulders, steadying her.

“Y/N!” Enola embraced her tightly, though not before Y/N caught sight of her face, flushed red and eyes shining with tears, her expression the picture of distress.

“What’s happened? What’s wrong? Why are you… in your undergarments?” Y/N asked in a rush as Enola pulled away. The teenager wiped fiercely at her face, clenching her jaw.

“My brothers are here…” Enola seemed to struggle with herself for a moment before shaking her head. “I wish to be alone.”

With that, Enola pushed past her and shortly after Y/N heard footsteps on the stairs. Y/N looked back to the door to the drawing room and caught a glimpse of a man holding a book, chestnut curls falling over his forehead, his brown eyes just visible, his brow furrowed as though he were frowning.

Sherlock was recognisable immediately. His eyes moved over to the door, away from the chair Y/N knew to be facing him in the room which she assumed seated Mycroft, and his book lowered, his head raising and his lips parting in slight surprise - an expression that Y/N had never seen on him in the entire duration of their friendship.

Before he could say anything, however, Y/N turned on her heel and walked towards the kitchen.

“Good morning, Miss Y/L/N,” Mrs Lane said from where she was kneading bread dough on the kitchen counter.

“Morning, Mrs Lane - I see that Enola’s brothers have arrived.”

“Yes, they got here yesterday,” Mrs Lane confirmed as Y/N placed down the bags of food she had bought and began to unpack them into the pantry. Knowing how overworked Mrs Lane had been, staffing the house alone, particularly since Eudoria’s absence, Y/N had taken to doing the food shopping for them.

“Enola seemed very upset,” Y/N said, unable to conceal her worry.

“Yes - Mr Mycroft has been less than impressed by both the state of the house and Enola herself.”

“Why?” Y/N demanded, her frown deepening, the beginnings of anger festering in her stomach.

“He doesn’t think Mrs Holmes did a good job of raising her,” Mrs Lane looked equally disgusted by the words even as she spoke them. “He wishes to send her to a finishing school to turn her into a proper lady.”

“But can’t he see that she’s happy here?”

“I don’t think Mr Holmes much cares,” Mrs Lane admitted.

“What does Sherlock think of all of it?”

“He has been rather silent on the matter, Miss Y/L/N,” Mrs Lane said, shaking her head and sighing. “I fear Enola has been rather disappointed by the brother she so idolised.”

“She said she wished to be alone for a while,” Y/N said, leaning on the counter and rubbing her forehead, wanting to ease out the deep concern she was feeling for the girl she had come to think of as a sister. “I’ll try and talk to her in a little bit,” she decided and Mrs Lane nodded her approval.

Y/N ventured out into the garden half an hour later, figuring that that was ample time for Enola to think it over for herself. Y/N knew exactly where the Holmes daughter would be, she knew that Enola had a favourite tree in the garden where she would go, should she want to get away from the house for a little bit.

What she wasn’t expecting was to find Sherlock walking back from the direction of the very tree Y/N knew Enola to be hiding in. He looked deep in thought, but there was no denying the very slight smile that lifted the corners of his lips.

Y/N allowed her head to fall, her eyes on the ground, hoping against hope that there was even the smallest chance that Sherlock may not notice her.

“Y/N - it was you I saw,” there was an edge of something like delight in his voice as he spoke and Y/N wanted to look up, to see his expression, to confirm that he was smiling as he acknowledged her.

Instead, she chose to ignore him and attempted to continue walking.

“Y/N!” Sherlock called, and reached out a hand to gently take hold of her arm, pulling her ever-so carefully back to stand in front of her.

“Mr Holmes,” Y/N returned his greeting, lifting her head to watch his features fall into a slight frown.

“I wasn’t aware that you would be here,” Sherlock said, his eyes searching hers.

“I was always welcome at Ferndell,” Y/N responded stiffly. “Now I must go and speak with Enola,” she said, turning ready to leave him.

“Y-” Sherlock cut himself off from saying her name. “Miss Y/L/N,” he corrected, and Y/N risked a glance at her old friend over her shoulder, seeing his brow crinkled in confusion, an expression that she had rarely seen during their childhood.

“Yes, Mr Holmes?”

“How have you been?” Sherlock was floundering, that much was obvious. All the articles about him that Y/N and Enola had read, all her memories of him from her younger years had always portrayed him as being calm, collected, ready with his words. Seeing him now, in this state of uncertainty, caused by seeing her for the first time after so many years, it brought her a sense of satisfaction.

“Fine thank you, now if you’ll excuse me,” she didn’t give Sherlock a chance to respond, walking away from him as quickly as possible, though she could feel his eyes burning into her back as she left him behind.

Enola was sitting on the grass at the base of the tree, her back pressed up against it, her sketchbook balanced on her lap but her eyes were glazed over and looking at the scenery rather than at the pages.

“Can I join you?”

The teenager started, her eyes widening in slight shock but then she relaxed as her eyes landed on Y/N, who she offered a small, tired smile and nodded her head. Once Y/N had seated herself on the ground, Enola scooted over to rest her head on her shoulder and let out a long sigh.

“I’m glad to see you’ve put on clothes now,” Y/N finally broke the silence and the younger girl laughed a little.

“Apparently my proportions are incorrect,” Enola informed her.

“Yes, I often find myself thinking that,” Y/N teased and Enola giggled again, playfully elbowing Y/N in the side. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t want to go to Miss Harrison’s Finishing School for Young Girls.”

“Finishing school is the worst,” Y/N agreed.

“I remember when you went,” Enola murmured. “Mother said you hated it.”

“I did,” Y/N confirmed. “I begged my parents every holiday to not send me back, I think I even asked your mother at one point to adopt me so that I wouldn’t have to go,” Y/N chuckled at the memory, shaking her head. “It was a source of great amusement for my brothers.”

“Mine too,” Enola said darkly. “Mycroft is an utter pig, you know.”

Y/N laughed again at the choice of words.

“Family reunion didn’t go quite as planned, I take it?”

“I didn’t have a hat or gloves,” Enola sighed.

“So off to finishing school?”

“The only logical course of action,” Enola agreed, her tone biting. “You were friends with them, weren’t you?”

“Yes,” Y/N said, wary of where this conversation was going. “But I stand no chance of changing their minds. Mycroft was always stubborn, even when we were children, and I haven’t seen them since they went to boarding school.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry, I wish I could help,” Y/N said, her heart aching for the young woman.

“It’s okay,” Enola murmured. “I was just wondering, though… Sherlock was talking about me as a child - you must have known me at the same time as him, yes?” Y/N nodded her confirmation. “I think I have more memories of you than him or Mycroft.”

“I spent a lot of time with you,” Y/N shrugged.

“He said that I used to drag a pinecone around with me.”

Y/N couldn’t help herself from laughing as the memory struck her.

“Oh yes - a little pinecone, wrapped in wool that you dragged around on a string because of Queen Victoria’s spaniel. Called… Dash? I think?”

“That’s what Sherlock said, yes,” Enola straightened up, a slight grin on her face. “So it’s true?”

“Yes, you were rather obsessed with the thing,” Y/N confirmed, still chuckling a little. Silence fell between them, comfortable and thoughtful.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“What were my brothers like growing up?”

Y/N thought hard before answering, her mind going back to her childhood.

“They were fun,” Y/N said at last. “They both knew that they were smarter than me, and I think that that was at least part of the reason they kept me around. Sherlock would teach me things - things that my Governess wouldn’t have thought I ought to know…” Y/N trailed off. “They were kind,” she admitted at last. “Albeit a little aloof at times, a little arrogant, they were always kind to me. I think Sherlock could tell immediately that I was unhappy with my family, and that was why they brought me to Ferndell,” Y/N confided.

“Mycroft was kind to you?” Enola asked, staring at her wide-eyed.

“He didn’t know any better until he went out into the world,” Y/N replied, smiling a little.

“I won’t let him send me to Miss Harrison’s Finishing School For Girls,” Enola stated defiantly.

“No,” Y/N agreed. “I don’t think that you should.”

///

Y/N was reading outside when the maid came to see her.

“Miss Y/L/N, there’s a Mr Holmes here to see you,” Freya spoke, her eyebrows raised just a tad in a teasing way, indicating that she thought it was a romantic house-call. Y/N frowned in return.

“Mr Holmes?” She repeated. “Not Enola?”

“If it’s Enola then she’s certainly changed a lot since I last saw her,” Freya said. “Mr Holmes is in the drawing room.”

Y/N closed her book and stood, following the maid inside, through the house and into the drawing room. She pushed the door open, still confused as to why either of the Holmes brothers would feel the need to make a house call to see her.

Sherlock was standing in the drawing room, his back to her as he stared at the painting hanging above the fireplace. She closed the door as quietly as she could, but the soft sound caught the attention of the detective anyway. Sherlock turned and offered her an unsure, gentle smile.

“Good morning, Mr Holmes,” Y/N said, bowing her head just slightly towards him. She thought she saw Sherlock’s smile falter just a tad before he returned her greeting. “What can I help you with?”

“I’m afraid I bring some bad news,” Sherlock said, walking away from the fireplace. Y/N stepped further into the room and indicated a chair. “Thank you,” he said as he sat down, Y/N seating herself in the armchair across from him. “Enola has run away.”

“Is that really all that surprising?” Y/N sighed, though his words did immediately cause her to worry for the young girl.

“Were you aware of what she was planning?” Sherlock asked.

“No. It just doesn’t surprise me.”

Sherlock looked at her for a long moment, seemingly analyzing her expression and finally he gave a slow nod of his head.

“So I take it that she hasn’t contacted you at all?” He asked.

“I haven’t heard from her since yesterday when I left Ferndell,” Y/N confirmed, attempting to keep her features as neutral as possible.

Sherlock frowned at her, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“Even if she had, you wouldn’t tell me, would you?”

“No,” Y/N admitted, shrugging her shoulders. “But you can’t blame me for that. We both know that Finishing School is not where Enola’s time would be best spent. Besides, from what she told me Miss Harrison seems a foul woman.”

She thought she saw Sherlock’s lips twitch as though he wanted to smile, but then he schooled his expression into one of neutrality again.

“You know, there was a time when you would tell me everything,” he reminded her.

“And there was a time that you found me utterly insufferable for that,” Y/N countered, her words sounding like she was spitting venom at him.

“I never found you insufferable,” Sherlock said, a chuckle in his voice.

“Is that so?” Y/N mused, quirking her eyebrow at him.

“Perhaps a little slow at times, but I wouldn’t take that personally,” she hated how teasing he sounded, as though nothing had changed since he left. Sherlock clearly picked up on the anger festering in the pit of her stomach and spoke again before she had time to lash out. “But I never found you insufferable.”

Y/N made a noise conveying how unconvinced she was by his words and she stood from the chair.

“If that’s all…”

Sherlock’s eyes flashed with something similar to disappointment before he, too, stood and adjusted his suit jacket slightly.

“Yes… that’s all,” he said. “I thank you for your time.”

Y/N nodded and watched as Sherlock crossed the room to stand in front of the door, reaching out a hand towards the doorknob. Before he could turn it, though, Y/N was hit by a sudden wave of concern.

“Mr Holmes?”

The man paused and looked back at her over his shoulder at her.

“You… if you find her, or here anything… could you let me know? She’s only young… I worry about her.”

Sherlock bowed his head in a sign of consent.

“I will keep you updated, I promise.”

“Thank you… Sherlock.”

Just as Sherlock had promised, he kept her updated on the situation with Enola as best as he could and she received letters from him every other day, even if he had found no new leads.

On the days that he had nothing new to report, his letters were filled with updates about his own life, general musings, his theories about both Enola’s whereabouts and other, unofficial cases that had caught his eye.

In short, they were the most un-Sherlock-like letters that Y/N could have ever imagined receiving and every time the post came she felt her heart lift in hope that there would be another one for her.

The only letter that Y/N had replied to, however, was one dated about a week and a half after Enola’s disappearance, in which Sherlock told her that he had asked Mycroft to pass over his duties and to make Enola his ward, filing Y/N in on the details about what had happened with Enola and the case of the missing Maquis. Sherlock had also let her know that he had attempted to make contact with his sister via newspaper and that she had indeed come to the meeting spot but had been disguised.

From the tone of that letter, it had been clear to Y/N that Sherlock truly cared for his younger sister, and that he knew that she would be capable of taking care of herself despite the worry that he so clearly felt over her.

After having received a response from Y/N after that letter, Sherlock had implored her to keep replying, but Y/N had not. She was afraid of falling into the same trap that she had when they were kids - of allowing herself to get too close to him, to feel something for him, when it was never going to go anywhere.

Y/N had allowed her heart to be broken by Sherlock Holmes once before, when she was too young to truly understand matters of the heart. She wasn’t going to do it again.

About a week after receiving the letter recounting the tale of Enola and Tewkesbury, however, Y/N got another surprise in the post. A letter from Enola herself, detailing Y/N with much of the same information that had already been given to her by Sherlock, though with more detail and far more reassurance that she truly was safe and secure and comfortable in her newfound lodgings in London.

In the final paragraph of the letter, there was a plea from Enola, imploring Y/N to go and visit her in London - she had attached a date for the following week and the address of a cafe that she said she thought Y/N would appreciate.

And so Y/N found herself boarding a train the next week, ready to meet Enola in London, agreeing to stay with her for a couple of days so that they could properly catch up.

Just as she was settling into the carriage, the train about to leave the station, the door slid open again and a familiar face appeared.

“May I join you?” Sherlock asked, a somewhat nervous smile on his face. Y/N returned it and nodded her head.

“Of course,” Sherlock entered into the compartment, closing the door behind him and placing his bag onto the overhead luggage rack and taking the seat opposite her. “I wasn’t aware that you were back here?”

“Only for a night - Mycroft demanded my help,” Sherlock explained. “I thought about visiting you, but I was unsure of how much it would be appreciated,” he added. Y/N bowed her head a little, finding herself unable to maintain eye contact with him. “You didn’t reply to my letters.”

“Yes I did.”

Y/N risked a glance up and saw Sherlock’s lips quirk a little, holding back a smile.

“I apologise - you replied to only one of my letters.”

“That’s one more than you replied to of mine,” Y/N pointed out, raising her eyebrows challengingly. Sherlock didn’t even attempt to keep his smile at bay, grinning at her in the familiar cheeky way that Y/N remembered from their childhood.

“I wasn’t aware of how good you were at bearing grudges,” he mused, leaning back in his seat.

“Well perhaps if you’d come to visit you would have realised,” Y/N muttered, opening her bag that rested on the chair beside her and pulled out the book she was reading.

Before she could open it, though, Sherlock’s hand pressed down on the cover, preventing her from doing so.

“I'm sorry, Y/N,” he whispered and when Y/N met his eyes again they were so filled with genuine apology and concern.

“I wasn’t aware that you knew what an apology was,” but she smiled a little, seeing how Sherlock’s eyes brightened

“Well I’ve been attempting to catch up on them as of late.”

“Enola?”

“I have yet to find her to give her one,” Sherlock confessed, leaning back at last. “You’re going down to see her, aren’t you?”

Y/N knew there was no point in denying it, Sherlock was always capable of telling when people were lying. He had always been particularly quick at picking up on Y/N’s lies as well when they were children.

“Yes - she wrote inviting me down last week,” Sherlock nodded slowly.

“Would you… would you let me know that she’s safe - that her lodgings are comfortable?”

“I’ll let her know you asked,” Y/N said instead, her voice quiet and full of understanding.

“Thank you,” Sherlock swallowed hard.

Silence fell between them. The most comfortable silence that had existed between them since their reunion.

“I did miss you, you know.”

“I’m sorry?”

“When I left home - I did miss you. I know you think I didn’t, and it’s understandable, but I did,” Sherlock confessed.

“Why didn’t you reply?” Y/N asked and she hated the desperation in her voice, the plea to understand why so many years had passed in silence. “Why didn’t you come and visit?”

“I don’t have a good reason for why I did - or didn’t - do any of it. And I’m so sorry,” Sherlock sighed but Y/N frowned at him, noticing how his gaze briefly dropped her own as he spoke, how his fingers fidgeted slightly on his lap.

“I know you’re the detective of the two of us, but I know when you lie, Sherlock Holmes,” Y/N didn’t know what made her do it, but she lent forwards and grabbed one of his hands between her own. “Tell me the truth, Sherlock.”

Sherlock studied her hard for a long minute, his eyes sweeping across her face, taking in every inch of her features and there was an emotion that Y/N couldn’t quite place lingering in his eyes.

“Mycroft used to… make fun of me, when we were children. Because he knew how I… how I felt about you. I’ve never quite… understood why he did, he always liked you, even if he never admitted it, but I hated it. I hated Mycroft making fun of me, it made me feel like he was smarter than me…” Sherlock’s cheeks reddened. “I did not mean for that to sound as conceited as it did.”

“To be fair, you were quite a conceited child,” Y/N teased, squeezing his hand and Sherlock chuckled. “But… what do you mean, how you felt about me?”

“You really want me to spell it out for you?” Sherlock asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“You said it yourself, I always was a little slow,” she grinned, “at least compared to you.”

Her heart was pounding out of her chest, she could barely breathe from the excitement at the idea that Sherlock was hinting at what she thought he was.

“You have to know by now that you are the only woman who I have ever held a place for in my heart.” He paused, shrugging his shoulders bashfully. “Or you were.”

“Enola?”

“Of course,” he confirmed. He lifted her hand tentatively up, pressing his lips gently against the back of it, keeping his gaze lowered. “I just hope that you know you never left it.”

The rest of the journey passed in a blur, the two of them having the final catch up that had been missing for so many years, everything feeling as though it was falling back into place, just like everything had been when they were kids.

By the time the train pulled into the station at London, Y/N had no desire to say goodbye to Sherlock Holmes, and by the way he loitered with her on the platform, it appeared that the sentiment was returned.

“Where are you headed?” Sherlock inquired. “I know Enola wouldn’t want you to tell me her address, but…”

“I’m actually meeting her at a cafe,” Y/N told him, adjusting her grip on her bag and smiling at him.

“In that case… would you allow me to escort you? London can be rather confusing at times, especially for those used to the country lifestyle,” he suggested and if Y/N didn’t know any better, she would have thought he was blushing a little in embarrassment.

“I would appreciate that yes, thank you Sherlock,” she agreed and Sherlock offered her his arm.

Enola did not seem overly surprised at Sherlock’s presence beside Y/N. There was a slight raise of her eyebrows, a knowing smile on her face and a gleam of amusement in her eyes as she walked over to them, her arms laden with a bunch of yellow roses.

“It’s so wonderful to see you again,” she said, completely bypassing her brother and embracing Y/N as carefully as she could with the flowers in her hands.

“I was so happy to hear from you, I was so worried about you,” Y/N told her, pulling away and examining her surrogate sister for any trace of hurt.

“I promise I’m fine,” Enola laughed, holding out the flowers for her. “I bought these for you, though.”

“They’re beautiful, thank you.”

Enola’s eyes slid over to Sherlock at last, who was standing awkwardly to the side. Y/N could sense how his own gaze was flicking continuously between herself and his sister, clearly overjoyed at seeing her again but also wanting to continue the conversation he and Y/N had been holding on the train.

“It’s more of an apology, actually,” Enola mused. “I’m afraid that something has come up and my assistance is required… elsewhere. Perhaps Sherlock would take my place?” She raised her eyebrows at her brother.

“I-uh-”

“Fantastic!” Enola cheered, hugging Y/N once more and giving a nod to her brother before rushing away.

“Did your sister just set us up?” Y/N asked, turning to face the younger Holmes brother.

“I think so,” Sherlock confirmed. “For what it’s worth, she hasn’t gone far, I believe she has every intention of snooping on us.”

Y/N laughed at that piece of knowledge, rolling her eyes affectionately at Enola’s antics before placing her hand once more in Sherlock’s arm. He reached across her to take her bag to allow her to hold the flowers.

“Well we wouldn’t want to disappoint her, now would we?” Y/N said, nodding towards the door to the cafe, not missing the affectionate smile it brought to Sherlock’s face.

As he held the door open for her, Y/N reached up onto her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

#Sherlock Holmes #sherlock holmes fanfiction #sherlock holmes imagine #henry!sherlock #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes fluff #sherlock holmes x you #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x reader #enola holmes #enola holmes fanfiction #courts writings

1K notes · View notes

liquid-luck-00 · 4 years

Text

My Life is One Complication After Another

Inspired by this post by @dolphin-ghost

Happy New Year everyone

Some cursing 🤬

Ao3 ~~~ Part 1 ~~~ Next

~~~~~~~~~~

Marinette has always been willing to give everyone a second chance. That may have been why she still had people to consider them as her friends. That is why when Lila started yet another lie about some celebrity she, Adrien, Chloe, and Juleka were holding their laughter and rolled their eyes.

"Honest Alya I'm like this" Lila crossed her fingers "with Bruce's kids." Alya must not have recognized the name as the liar gave a small laugh "oh, right Bruce Wayne, he prefers to only go by Bruce."

"Oh my God, Girl you have got to give me an interview for my blog!" Alya lapped up the story.

"Of course" Lila smiled, then looked over at Marinette "Anything for my best friend."

At this point, Marinette wasn't paying attention to the liar. Instead Mari was talking in low voices with her actual best friend, Adrien. They sat on the very back bench and Juleka and Chloe on the bench in front of them.

That was their normal, it had been since their eighth year. Now two years later it was routine, her classmates shunned her only talking with her for class assignments. Otherwise they ignored her and that may just have been the best outcome.

She, Chloe, Juleka, Luka, and Adrien were in the park working on a photoshoot. Adrien was behind the camera while Juleka and Luka were modeling. Marinette and Chloe were changing for the next set. When they came out Mari noticed several reporters around the perimeter. Security had them handled and she focused on modeling her creation.

However this wasn't the last she saw of the reporters. They were always at the school questioning the students. What they were asking she didn't know as she was never questioned.

Three weeks of spotting and avoiding reporters, with them swarming the school she needed to get creative in order to transform. Lila was of course bathing in the limelight and attention.

Mari was the last person out of the school as she was getting the homework for her three friends who didn't come today. The first thing she noticed coming out of the courtyard was the purple limo. Her honorary uncle came to pick her up. As soon as the door closed said uncle was crushing her in a hug.

"It's Rock' n to see ya Nettie" Jagged spoke, the hug muffling his voice slightly.

"Same here Jagged," wiggling out of Jagged's hug she reached over to hug Penny. "so what's with the escort?"

"A close friend of ours wanted to meet you and He and his son's are waiting at our room," Penny explained.

"Okay..." she hesitated exiting the car to head inside "but why? Is this a commission or what?"

After a silent elevator ride, Penny hesitated at the door before speaking. "We are hoping you could clear something up actually," as she opened the door.

Mari stepped in and noticed them. The eldest looked to be around mid to late thirties, black hair and bluebell eyes, dressed in a dark charcoal suit.

The youngest of the boys seemed to be a couple years younger than her, shorter than her by a head, tanned skin, short black hair, and jade eyes. A scowl on his face partially hidden by the collar of a black peacoat and slacks as he sat on the arm chair.

A boy around her age with chin length black hair and azure eyes, a red hoodie under a grey bomber jacket and black pants. He looked like he hadn't slept in at least a week, and if how he was holding the travel mug in his hands it was probably true.

Next to him was another boy who looked a couple of years older, black messy hair about 5 cm at the longest and a white tuff in front, cerulean eyes, a brown leather jacket and distressed jeans. He seemed familiar but couldn't place it.

The last boy also had long black hair but seemed to be layered and shorter in the front, sky blue eyes, a blue varsity jacket and jeans. He would either be the eldest or second, he had a bright smile but kept shooting a glance at Fang.

Speaking of which once she was in the room and she saw him, he charged at her, knocking her over. Mari was giggling as Fang rolled over and she was lost to the world as she doted on the crocodile.

"Nettie" Penny finally managed to get her attention.

"Sorry," she stood "but if it wasn't done we wouldn't be able to talk. Hello I am Marinette Dupain-Cheng it is nice to meet you." again she smiled.

"Bruce Wayne" the man introduced himself, "and my sons. My youngest Damian." he gestured to the boy with green eyes. "Next is Tim" gesturing to the boy with the mug who rose it in acknowledgment. "Jason is the second oldest" the boy with the white tuff gave a lop sided smile. "And my eldest Dick" whose smile seemed to become brighter.

She smiled nodding at everyone before realization hit. A quick snap of her fingers before pulling out her phone, opened up her texts and started typing, ending with a quick picture of Jason.

I think I just met your idiot friend

She put away her phone. Not even a minute later another went off.

The ringing stopped once, twice, thrice, and on the fourth Jason, spoke up. "Sorry I should take this."

"Go ahead this can wait a moment." Mari smiled.

As soon as Jason answered the phone "What the hell are you doing in Paris!?" everyone heard the caller as Jason was holding the phone an arm length away.

"How did you know... you?!" it dawned on Jason.

"Guilty," she smiled. "I guess you're not as big of an idiot as Roy made you out to be."

"Hey!" Jason called before turning to the phone. "What the hell did you tell her Harper!" By now Roy was on speaker.

"You can't prove what I said, ya know," she could practically see Roy's smirk.

"Video's however," she was now smirking.

"What!!" Jason seemed to freeze.

"Bug! No!" Roy was sounding like he was going to start panicking.

"I think I have a few saved," she tapped her chin.

That was when Bruce cleared his throat. "As amusing as this is we have business to discuss."

"Talk to ya later Mari." Roy bid her farewell. "Oh and Jason don't underestimate her." the call ended.

"Okay so how do you know Roy?" Dick finally asked.

"Oh. It was at a charity ball hosted by Oliver Queen," she replied nonchalantly.

"Was it the same one where a baby elephant ended up at the event. Following you the whole time." Penny asked exasperated.

"I still don't get how you think we had anything to do with that." Marinette finally sat down. She ended up sitting on the ground leaning against the couch next to Jagged, Fang resting his head on her out stretched legs.

"I have so many questions,” Tim finally added to the conversation.

"Tt. can we stop beating around the bush already," Damian was irritated and it showed. "Are you or are you not my biological sister."

He seemed ready to pounce, unfortunately that was dangerous in Paris. Especially as she saw an akuma right outside the window. The question asked now forgotten as she focused on the corrupted butterfly.

"Nope, Nope. I am not dealing with an akuma today." she stood up. Took a deep breath and let her anger and frustrations to the surface. The smile fell from her face. "If you want a puppet have a marionette" Kwamii Adrien is rubbing off on me.

The butterfly changed targets and was heading towards her, finally gaining the other's attention. She vaulted over the couch and made a beeline to her backpack. By then the akuma was close so she tossed the backpack over to everyone and rolled out of the way.

"Glass jar, unscrew it" she called out.

"How pathetic running from a bug." Damian moved quickly to catch the butterfly but it moved and found something in his pocket. He was engulfed in purple and then he stood there in evergreen armor with golden accents. A red and yellow cape and a pitch black sword in his hand. Pocket knife, the sword is where the akuma is.

"Screw it" she turned and with two quick jabs his two arms went limp. A third knocked him to the ground.

She picked up the sword and went to Dick who was holding the jar. She took the jar, broke the sword, and went to catch the butterfly. As soon as she screwed the lid on the butterfly began to turn white.

She let out the breath she was holding as she compartmentalized her emotions yet again.

"What the fuck was that!" Jason screamed and so did Dick, minus the curse.

"Where and why do you have one of those," Jagged asked.

Finally Damian shouted "Why can I not move? What did you do?" he accused.

"Okay so the butterfly was an akuma used by Hawkmoth, Paris’ villain, to manipulate anyone with strong negative emotions. These champions or Akuma are used to attempt to retrieve magical jewels from our heroes. The jar was given to me and a few others in my class, because our class is a hot bed for akuma, by Ladybug, one of the heroes." she gave a short and simple run down. "As for Damian, those were a series of pressure points,” infused with magic to-take down people easily, "it should wear off in a few minutes."

"Teach me please!" Tim begged.

"I dunno." she started to chew her lip and shift her weight.

"Roy's warning now makes a lot more sense," Jason hummed.

"Tt. adequate," Damian muttered softly, Marinette is sure she is the only one who heard.

"Okay so where were we?" she smiled turning and sitting back down with Fang.

~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @dolphin-ghost @unabashedbookworm @bookgirl14 @laurcad123 @mochegato @vixen-uchiha

#dc x miraculous #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #miraculous x dc #maribat #ml marinette #roynette #friend!adrien #bio!dad bruce #MLiOCAA

474 notes · View notes

libraryofloveletters · 4 years

Text

truth or dare.

A game of truth or dare turns into something more.

Spencer Reid x Reader, Derek Morgan x Reader

Warnings: fem!reader, alcohol consumption,.

Category: Fluff

Word Count: 1.6 k

----

You promised Penelope that you'd come out with her for “team bonding night” as she calls it. You had cancelled on the last one because you weren't feeling well, which was partially the truth but you just needed the night to yourself. As you stepped through the doors of the BAU, the overwhelming smell of coffee and papers hit you like a ton of bricks. Walking to your desk, you were stopped by a hand on your shoulder, “good morning darling” the one and only Derek Morgan smiled at you and you couldn't help but smile back. “Good morning to you too Derek” you sat at your desk, sinking back into your chair. “Tell me y/n, how do you do it ?” “do what?” you looked at the man who was now leaning against your desk “how do you ignore baby girl’s pleas to come out with us?” “I don't ignore them per say, but it’s not any different than Hotch getting if the team bonding time” you chuckled. “Hotch has a kid, that’s why” you looked at him with a slightly amused face.

The sound of Penelope's heels come clicking across the floor before you could say anything back to him “Y/n! oh you’re just the person I was looking for” “what can I do for you pen?” She smiled at the nickname “just double checking that you’re not bailing on us again tonight, I mean even pretty boy is coming” you glance at the doctor who was flying through his paperwork, smiling at him. “I suppose, since even Spencer is going, I'll be there” “oh goody!” Penelope attacked you with a hug causing you to laugh. “Tonight at Rossi’s, 7:30. He's cooking for us, please don't be late” she smiled as she walked back to her bat cave.

7:30 arrives and there you are standing outside of Rossi’s door. You knock once, Dave opens the door for you and pulls you into a hug “Bella! come in! you’re right on time and might I say, you look beautiful” you blushed at his comment, which was a normal occurrence but you couldn't help it. Dave was like another father to you, always checking up on you, making sure you take care of yourself. You stepped in and it smelt like home, you smiled to yourself as you walk into the kitchen. Per usual, you greeted by a hug from Penelope but this time, she hands you a glass of wine as well. Smiling at her, the two of you walk over to the rest of the team, hugging them one by one. The team has never seemed so relaxed to you, even Hotch was smiling, and out of a suit. Emily and JJ sat at the table, each sipping on their own glass of wine. Derek and Spencer were at the other end of the table, Derek was laughing while Spencer on the other hand, was pouting. You walked over to them “Derek what did you do to Spence to cause to pout?” you rested your hand on Spencer’s shoulder. Spencer smiled at you “hi y/n, you look nice” “hi Spence, you don't look so bad yourself” you smiled at your resident pretty boy and turned your attention to Derek when he started speaking. “I didn’t do anything to him! we were -” before he could continue, Rossi’s cut him off by clinking his wine glass “dinner is ready!”

Dinner was lovely, you all chatted and caught up on your personal lives, it was mostly Reid’s rambles of whatever book he was reading or Hotch and JJ exchanging stories of Jack and Henry. You sat back in your chair and smiled at your little family. “game time!” Garica shouted as she walked into the living room and sat down on the couch, we all followed her except for Rossi and Hotch who retired to his study for a drink. Once everyone had found a seat, we decided to play a few rounds of truth or dare.

“Oh ew never!” Emily shook her head when JJ dared her to kiss Morgan “come on Em, you don't want none of this?” he used his hands to refer to himself, you and Spencer laughed at his cockiness. “Alright..” Emily looked around and landed straight on me “y/n, truth or dare?”, you take a deep breath in and mumbled out truth. Prentiss gigged to herself before asking “alright truth, if you had to sleep with anyone in this room, who would it be?” you were shocked that she’d ask you that but it didn't take you long to answer her. “Reid” Derek smirked at you as you shook your head, giggling. Spencer choked on his wine at the sound of his name leaving your mouth. Emily smirked, while JJ and Penelope laughed at Spencer’s reaction.

After a few more rounds, the night come to an end. JJ was taking Emily and Penelope home, you had planned to go home with her but because of her kids’ carseats, there was no space for you. Hotch had already left and you didn’t want to disturb Rossi, so you were suck with Morgan and Reid. “Great” you thought as you hopped into the backseat of Derek’s car. He pulled out of Rossi’s and started talking to Spencer, you could hear them but you weren't focused enough to hear what they were saying. Before you knew it, they had pulled into your driveway. Waking up to Spencer shaking you slightly, you smiled at him “are we home?” you stepped out of the car and walked to the front door. Opening the door, you noticed both boys had followed you inside. Turning around and looking up at them “am I missing something here?” Derek yawned. “it’s late, do you mind if we crash here? it's easier than driving pretty boy home and then having to get home myself” You were too tired to question him and you trusted them both with your life, what's the worst that could happen ? “sure, make yourselves comfortable anywhere. I'm going to change and then I'll come back with some blankets and pillows for you guys” you headed to your room to change and striped down to your underwear when you heard a crash. without realizing you barely had anything on, you ran out into the living room to see that Derek and Spencer were having a pillow fight with your couch cushions. “What happened to being tired?” they turned around at the sound of your voice and looked like two deer in headlights, you weren't sure why until you felt your air conditioning hit your bare skin. You looked down to see you were in only your underwear “oh..” you walked back to the room and got dressed. You sat on the bed in shock and laughed when you thought of their reactions.

Grabbing a few blankets and pillows, you returned to the living room to see Derek passed out on your couch. Smiling at the sight, you slipped a pillow under his head and put a blanket over him. Spencer was sitting at your kitchen table flipping through the current novel you had been reading “I didn't know you liked Jane Austin” he smiled at you. You smiled back, walking over to the kettle to put some water in it “would you like some tea?” “yes please” the two of you sat at the table in silence, but a comfortable silence. Spencer was one of your closest friends, you enjoyed your time together, even if it was just him rambling about something he read or saw. You never understood why the team always cut him off when he did that, you thought it was adorable how happy he got. “No one ever picks me for things like that” he tapped your leg with his foot under the table, you had zoned out and didn't notice he was talking to you “hm? sorry babe, what did you say?” he blushed at the nickname “I was saying no one ever picks me for things like that, it’s always Morgan or Hotch, even Rossi, but never me” looking up at him, you knew what he was talking about. “oh Spence, it’s not like that. you know I've always thought you were handsome. Morgan, he’s just muscles and likes to flirt, a “blood in the nose” thing as Garcia puts it” the two of you laughed “you think I'm handsome ?” “of course, why wouldn't I ?” Spencer blushed at your comment, again. “y/n, can we watch a movie or something ? I'm not really tired” “sure Spence”

Both of you walked towards your bedroom, leaving Derek snoring on your couch and made yourselves comfortable on your bed. Turning on the tv, Spencer picked out a foreign film and began translating it to you. Leaning back against his chest, he wrapped his arm around you and before you knew it, you had drifted to sleep, the sound of his voice being the last thing you heard.

The next morning

Derek woke up to an empty living room, wondering where pretty boy was considering he was supposed to be right there with him. He got up to look for him, the door to your bedroom was slightly opened, he stuck his head in to find you and Spencer cuddled into each other on the bed. Spencer’s head was rested on your chest, his brown curls all over the place. your arms wrapped around his shoulders and his arm across your belly. Derek snapped a picture and sent it to the BAU group chat.

Derek: looks like these two had fun without me

Penelope: OMG!!! MY BABIES!!! don't you dare disturb them!

JJ: such cuties

Emily: get it Reid ;)

Hotch: Dave you own me twenty.

Dave: damn it.

Turns out Hotch and Rossi heard enough last night.

taglist: @avenging-fandoms (I thought you’d like this :) )

512 notes · View notes

spiltscribbles · 3 years

Text

this night seems so long!

~Notes: I’m reposting this and i’m still not happy with it :S rip XS

SEND ME A PROMPT | A REBLOG MEANS THE WORLD!

It is pleasant, indeed, while the summer lasts

with the mild pheasants' song ...

but now I feel the northern wind's blast—

its severe weather strong.

Alas! Alas! This night seems so long!

And I, because of my momentous wrong

now grieve, mourn and fast.

TS Eliot

The late summer chill seeps through the creeping windows into the flat that they once called home— the feebly standing, slowly disintegrating haven that was painted with laughter before lies, with hopeful kisses before hesitant touches. The cold burrows itself into Sirius’s bones and coats his every thought and nests deep inside of him until he’s more frost than man.

But then he sees Remus— beautiful and golden and perfect Remus— padding out their bedroom clad in Sirius’s oversized jumper that swallows his hands whole, and that familiarly gentle smile that makes his eyes glitter once his soft gaze rests on Sirius, and his sleep supple skin tastes like the things too beautiful to name. He tastes like Remus— like sunlight and parchment and whispered laughter and raspy groans and that’s all Sirius ever wants, has ever wanted.

“It’s September first.” He says once Sirius finally unlatches from his neck, red faced and pleased, and Sirius swears that Ganymede has nothing on him. That if he could he’d restructure every celestial star from above to follow the precise slope of his nose, and the pedal soft curve of his cheek, and the path of his jawline to temple. For everyone to worship him in ways he’s always deserved.

“We’ve made it another month,” Sirius retorts, mixes the splash of milk with the sugar in Remus’s Earl Gray, which is a travesty and a point of teasing throughout their whole relationship since they were nothing but lads. Sirius blames Remus’s beverage faux pas— including his preferential nature to black coffee—to being raised by a Frenchman for a mother, and Remus always counters that if Sirius was any more bloody English he’d be afraid that Queen Elizabeth would poach him for her next husband. Which of course always ended the argument because then Lily would laugh from besides him, and Sirius would glare along with James— both hating it when Remus and Lily’s Muggle references go over their heads like a second language they couldn’t speak.

But Lily’s not here, and neither is James. They’re tucked away in another safe house— the fourth in a calendar year, and they’re both going a bit mad if the letter Lily sent him only a few weeks ago is anything to go by. And Sirius aches for the both of them, aches for baby Harry— his one year old God son who he loves like nothing else. And how could he not? He’s Lily’s bright eyes set into James’s open face, has James’s warm, brown complexion but inherited Lily’s freckles too. He’s Sirius’s God son, and there’s a mad man after him, and sometimes it feels like Sirius’s brain is a mushy, muddled stew melting out of his scalp when he’s forced to contemplate on it for too long— to contemplate on how little Harry seems incapable of escaping the danger— because it goes back to the same name over and over again. The name of someone Sirius refuses to ever let himself contemplate for longer than a breath.

“Aye,” Remus says in that lilting, Welsh bread accent of his before he takes a slow sip and Sirius is left to study the sweep of his long lashes against his fine bones and how less than a fortnight ago that face Sirius adores so endlessly came home caked in mud and blood that was only partially Remus’s own and Sirius wasn’t allowed to ask what happened while he cleaned the cuts and kissed the healed pink skin with gentle reverence. “Maybe 82 will be our year Paddy.” Remus says with such raw yearning that it blows the wind out of Sirius like he’s just taken a bludger to the gut. And he feels so stupid and thankful all at once. Because of course those idl contemplations are nothing but ridiculous fodder. Of course Remus would never— could never.

“Yeah moony,” he says quietly. “Maybe it will.”

Sirius steps forwards, and he kisses him and Remus breathes out like he’s been holding it for a long while, and then his fingers slide into Sirius’s overgrown hair and tugs, and they’re lost in one another for the rest of the morning.

Three days later Remus leaves again under demands that he won’t ever disclose to Sirius— penance for the trust Sirius broke as a schoolboy with a prank that proved near deadly— and a week after that the Order gets news that the Prewettss were compromised, that it took five of those Death Eater bastards to finish them off, and that their older sister with seven kids of her own can’t bare to hold a public wake.

The cold gets worse, and Sirius doesn’t know where to step to avoid another avalanche; is afraid that with every move he takes, a landmine is waiting to blast.

The bare branches of the elderly tree outside their flat knocks against the partition that once bathed them in spilt sunlight and stolen serenity and careful comfort. It scrapes against the glass like the fingers of an inferi, accentuated by the sound of the whistling wind, crooning like the menacing melody by a milky eyed, haggard looking banshee. And everything is unmoving, everything is still— petrified for a moment in frozen history.

And Sirius feels his insides collapse when he remembers that he’ll never hear Gideon’s laughter or see Fabian sat next to Benjy again. It’s a generation lost, Sirius thinks morbidly, the way he always gets when Remus isn’t home and he’s tossing back shots of Fire-Whiskey like it’s what keeps his veins pumping life. A generation of them that’s being killed off one by one, a generation of Hogwarts graduates being obliterated and there’s not an end in sight and Sirius wants to scream. He wants to fight them with his bare hands. He wants to ravage each of their hideouts and use them as target practice for his unforgivables and he wants to run, God he wants to run. He wants James and Lily and Harry to come with him, wants to steel Remus in the middle of the night before he knows what’s even happening. He wants to escape it all and hold onto his family with a iron grip that can only be severed through death.

Sirius wants it so much that it begins to ache, to twist in his stomach and weep within the hollows of his bones.

But then the branches knock against the window once more, and he’s brought back to a reality the makes even idyllic daydreams like that something treacherous and awful. So he pours himself another finger and raises the glass to fallen friends and pretends that the throbbing in his heart is something that can be spelled away if he only works hard enough.

Remus comes home a week later and Sirius feigns that the sight of his lover doesn’t make Sirius picture Marlene’s twisted face of agony and Dorcas’s limp body at the feet of this dark wizard that has destroyed everything Sirius has ever known and tainted everything he has ever loved.

The safe house is sparsely decorated, save for the candle Lily’s always got burning and the succulent she keeps on a shelf besides a small portrait of Harry, tucked between one of her and James on their wedding day, and another of the five of them at their Hogwarts graduation.

It’s no home, especially not one for a baby that’s as curious and boisterous as little Harry. It’s a prison at best. still packed boxes strewn about the ground, and a tension permeating the air and it’s awful. But Sirius manages to forget about it when he glances to his right and sees a giggling Harry bouncing happily on Remus’s lap, and Remus is glowing in a way Sirius hasn’t seen for edging on a year. The stiffness threaded through his shoulders has dissipated and his smile is wide and he’s dotingly kissing Harry’s chocolate splattered cheek while James and Lily roll their eyes fondly from across the breakfast spread. And Sirius thinks that if this is all he sees for the rest of his life he would thank every God and every spirit above.

“Uncle Moony, you better be convincing Harry that if he doesn’t eat his berries that the boogie man will come and munch on his toes tonight,” Lily scolds half heartedly, which makes James drop a kiss to the crown of her head before topping off her tea.

“No toes, mommy! No toes!” Harry babbles in that in-between state of gargling and speech that is as precious as it is incomprehensible.

“Saucy boy,” Sirius chuckles, tousling Harry’s already hopelessly disheveled hair and kissing the corner of Remus’s lips that taste like hazelnut and blueberries and a bit like sunlight too. And he thinks that this is what happiness feels like— He’s nearly forgot.

“I’ll get’m washed up, shall I?” Remus says as he rises swiftly from his seat, Harry clapping excitedly.

“Good man,” James winks and Lily blows him a kiss. Remus looks down at Sirius, a brow cocked slightly.

“I’ll be up in a minute, yeah? Just wanted to help these plonkers with the dishes.”

Remus grins brightly and nods, and then, he stilts— like in hesitation— before kissing Sirius’s temple, promptly shuffling off and humming Harry an old French lullaby that he knows Hope once sang him when he was a boy.

And Sirius’s heart feels so full, so fragile, And Sirius hates that he didn’t tell him I love you, is afraid that the space of time that they’ll get to say that to one another is rapidly dwindling.

“We’re finishing up all the kinks in the plan,” James says, saddling up besides Sirius, handing him a sponge and keeping the dishcloth in his own. “You still want to act as secret keeper?”

“Course you daft wanker,” Sirius bristles. “I’d do anything for you lot.”

“I know,” James says unflinchingly. “You and Moony are the best friends a bloke can ask for.”

And God that hurts like nothing else, so Sirius doesn’t even try to retort in any meaningful sort of way. “Don’t forget Wormyy.”

James laughs. “Would never dare.”

And then silence drops over them like a heavy quilt threatening to smother them to death. And Sirius scrapes off the grime from the dishes and pretends that the plate isn’t still scratched and battered even once the debris is gone. And he swallows down the lump in his throat when he remembers that Remus is leaving again in a matter of hours.

Remus is still curved around Sirius like a blessing stroked to life with heavenly colors the morning after he gets back. Sirius wraps his arms around him, squeezes tightly and berries his head into his neck, wanting to feel him, to smell him all over. And as they lie down in that heap in the bed Sirius has always called theirs, but Remus has only ever referred to as Sirius’s, he sobs.

“Don’t go Remus, don’t leave me anymore. Just stay here, stay with me. I love you so much that I’m afraid I’ll crack with it and I know you don’t— that you can’t feel the exact same way— but please, just don’t leave us. Stay here, stay and love me too.”

Remus’s even breaths never falter, and he never flutters his eyes open, but Sirius has known him for nearly half his life, and he knows it like he knows his own name that Remus is awake and simply doesn’t answer him.

What Sirius doesn’t know is what that means.

They’re sitting on either end of the couch now.

Sirius is pretending to fill out a crossword but is actually trying to decode a letter they had been able to intercept between McNair and a lower ranking Death Eater about some assignation that was meant to be held in the wee hours of October seventh. But every few minutes his eyes wander to Remus, to how he’s curled up with a book of poetry in one hand and his blanket swathed around him. His fringe is hanging in limp curls and the circles beneath his eyes are only that much more prominent, that much more sickly. And his gaze is large and fragile in a way Sirius has never seen. And he wants to slide the novel out of Remus’s hands and he wants to kiss away his frown, and he wants to lock his fingers through the holes in his green sweater and he wants Remus in every way imaginable, to tell him I love you and I love you and I love you so much its like I’m dying. He wants to kiss the inside of his elbow and the knot of his ankle and beneath his naval too. He wants him and knows that he’ll never stop wanting him, and is sure that this— this love— will prove his Achilles’ Heal, and Remus is Patroclus destined to leave him first and Sirius is destined to wallow in ruin.

Sirius wants to beg him to stay here, to stay with him, to love him like he knows he does.

But Sirius simply does not— Does not tell him any of that.

They haven’t spoken to one another with words for days now, and it feels pathetic and hopeless— the way they only regard one another with stiff lips and cautious glances in the daylight, but that doesn’t stop them still clutching for one another once the sun dips into the horizon. Like if they can convince themselves that the sex is still miraculous that they still love each other too. As if their bodies aren’t just vessels, aren’t just sacks of skin and bone. And it feels like they’re both giving up on one another and holding on to each other with equal fervency. And Sirius doesn’t know anything any more.

It’s pathetic and it’s painful and it’s pointless. It’s so obviously over, it’s been over for nearly half a year, but they’ve always been cowards when it came to one another. And Sirius doesn’t think that will ever change.

So he only settles deeper into the couch, and he keeps the Shakespeare in Remus’s grasp, and he moves his free hand to deftly clutch around one of Remus’s cold feet, and he squeezes and Remus freezes, and they both breathe for the first time in far too long. But then Remus pulls away, and Sirius lets go before he can feel the sting of rejection and they go back to pretending to go on.

Remus is gone the next morning for a council with Dumbledore, so Sirius wanders the flat like a ghost with no direction, no idea what’s next.

He decides to tidy up the space, like it matters, like anything is normal. And when he reaches for the empty mug on Remus’s nightstand, he sees that his book of poetry is still open, and he lifts it to glance at the sonnet written their in black and white…

When my love swears that she is made of truth

I do believe her, though I know she lies,

That she might think me some untutor’d youth,

Unlearned in the world’s false subtleties.

And Sirius throws it hard against the wall before he can read another word.

Remus is preparing for another mission for reconnaissance, tells Sirius that night over their curry take away. And it feels like the world is dissolving right in front of Sirius’s eyes, like his lungs have forgotten how to breathe during those interludes where Remus leaves without a trace— only starting up again when he returns smelling of blood and fear and the outdoors. And Sirius hates everything so much— Is afraid that he hates Remus most of all some days, even if he’s the one person he can’t fathom existing without.

The sky breaks open that night and rain pellets down like the bullets from the Muggle films that Remus loved showing him, before the war, and before his disappearing act, and before it felt like a knife was plunged into Sirius’s chest every time he looked at him— and the only worst thing than this would be if he stopped seeing Remus all together, because he knows it like the innate way he knew how to move his lips against Remus’s on that feted day towards the start of seventh year— that the knife would simply be pulled out and he’d bleed to death bit by bit.

It hurts like nothing else loving him, but Sirius can’t fathom a world where he does not. Where he doesn’t get to trace the consolation of freckles dusting his high cheekbones, where he doesn’t get to kiss the singular mole at the nape of his neck that’s ordinarily covered up by his thick jumpers. A world where they don’t intwine in the ways that lovers are want to do.

Sirius loves Remus even if he knows it’s fruitless because there’s a war destroying the world and there’s a spy in the order and Remus is the only one who’s brilliant in a reserved way and cunning when he wants to be and the only one who knows how to properly keep a secret from his friends like it’s a second skin that he wears as effortlessly as a cloak.

And God.

Remus is sitting besides him now, a pinky’s breath away from his perch on the sofa.

There are words that writhe in Sirius’s throat, clacking against his teeth, begging to spill out. He wants to tell Remus he loves him, that he’d forgive him anything. He wants to tell him that Remus can Avada Kedavra him in the cold morning light and Sirius would still only see him bathed in an etherial glow, but can’t see him doing that to their dearest friends, to Harry who is sacred and should always be protected. He wants to beg him to just speak, to tell Sirius the truth, to tell Sirius he still loves him. Beg Remus to run away with him. To go off to Prague or Cordova or maybe even the states, to say sod it to the whole damn war and just spend their days and nights tangled up with naked limbs and sweaty sheets.

And he thinks he will, thinks that the burning sensation of want within him is too furious to tempt down anymore.

But then the dying sun shimmers through the window, unspools in Remus’s honey curls and twinkles in his butterscotch eyes that were once always dancing with a quiet humor that enthralled Sirius to him like a drifter to a prophet. And it’s not healthy, this vigil he’s always held for him— especially now, especially with his suspicions that James begrudgingly agrees with and Lily fumingly does not— but Sirius’s never been one for self preservation, has never known how to let a scab heal over naturally. He has to poke and prod until it scars, until it becomes a indelible part of him.

They stay there like that for either a minute or hour more, and when Sirius sees that Remus finally has enough of their staring match, he begins to move away, and it is Sirius— with a quick hand and desperate need— who presses him back down to the cushions with a hot mouth and wandering palms and he pretends that all he feels at the sound of the whimper Remus lets out is pleasure and not pain from his heart chipping that much more.

And this is vacant of words too. This is just instincts and moans and intuition of knowing another’s body and pleasure points and wants for half a decade now.

They make it to the bedroom and Sirius refuses to be gentle, refuses to deprive himself of anything, and Remus is matching him with every thrust.

When they kiss its wet, and Sirius knows its the tears leaking out their eyes, and he knows in that unspoken, understanding way that this is the final time. That when Remus leaves later tonight, he’ll stay gone, that he won’t ever sleep besides Sirius again, won’t ever hold him like this. Sirius will never get to see him in the splendid, golden hours of morning and never get to run away with him after all. So Sirius blunders Remus’s mouth with his hard tongue, and he relishes the way Remus bites on his bottom lip until he tastes blood. And he throws them onto the mattress and they wrestle together in the sheets, scratching and pulling and canting obscenely. And when Sirius kisses his protruding collar bone it’s I’m saying I love you, and when Remus sucks on the hinge of Sirius’s jaw it feels like an apology. And when Sirius squeezes the scar on his inner thigh where the very first bite mark lies mangled and knotted in his skin, he’s begging him one last time to stay, and when Remus tells him in a voice that’s tenuous and tender and filled with sorrow, “Fuck me” the syllables slot together in a different formation that sound like “I’m already gone.”

They’re having parallel conversations and they’re not speaking and it’s the end.

So Sirius bucks against him and Remus wraps his long, long legs around Sirius’s narrow waste, and Sirius codes his fingers with the lube they’ve always kept in his nightstand and is fast when he plunges them into that ring of tight, tight muscle, when he stretches and scissors and slicks him open, spurred on by Remus’s gargled words begging him. “Now Sirius, now, now. Do it now.”

So he doesn’t bother with any of the rest of it. He barely sheaths himself half way before he has to stop, has to catch his breath, to re acclimate himself to the pressure. But then he hears Remus whimper and he surges forwards and doesn’t let up this vicious rhythm that he hears pulsing in his fucking ears. And it’s graceless and it’s hard and it’s a bit rushed but it’s what they need. And when Remus tosses back his head— features twisted up with emotion— Sirius berries his face into his neck and he feels his tears intermingling with Remus’s own and Remus’s loud pleads for him to go rougher, to stay longer, to keep fucking into him. So Sirius listens because there isn’t anything he wouldn’t do for Remus— even now— and he focusses on his hand circling Remus’s length, on pumping it with a tight fist and a bit of a twist, the way Remus has always preferred it. And he hears Remus croaking out an “I’ve always loved you,” and even if those words are too late, too little, too hollow, they still work to bring him off the edge, and Sirius thrusts deeper only twice more before he’s releasing himself into him— into the love of his life— quickly followed by Remus’s own cock whimpering out it’s own climax. And it feels like the ending to the story Sirius never wanted to stop being told.

But before he can pull out his overstimulated prick from Remus’s arse, Remus just squeezes him with his legs, eyes fluttering shut while he rests his arms around Sirius’s broad shoulders. “Just stay.” he asks. “Stay until I have to go.”

And the sound of him— so desperate so pliant so tired— breaks the rest of his heart so much so that Sirius feels the remains splintering in his lungs and shattering open his ribcage with a sob he never lets out until Remus is gone.

“Anything you want Moony. Whatever you ask.”

And Remus’s lips twitch up into the best approximation of a smile that he’s given Sirius in far too long, and Sirius rests his head against Remus’s chest, and kisses the freckles that he was so elated to find their the first time they had done this. And he takes in deep the scent of cinnamon and citrus and sunlight that’s always clung to his skin, and he thinks that this is the first time they’re letting each other feel hopeless together.

The cold has turned over to a blizzard, and it seizes the flat once more the next morning.

Remus is gone and Sirius is left alone and nothing is right.

So he grabs the floo powder from the beautiful, ceramic container Hope had gifted Remus when he first moved into the flat the summer after their seventh year, and he finds James waiting for him on the other side, and he’s never taken in just how exhausted and terrified and sad his brother is looking these days.

“Wotcher, Pads.” James says, sipping on his tea with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, and nothing is alright, nothing will probably ever be alright again.

“Hiya, Prongsie,” Sirius says, hearing just how threadbare his voice sounds in the quiet of the Potter cottage.

“So just a morning call? Or would you like me to fetch Haz for you?”

Sirius swallows the lump in his throat and forces himself to speak. “James I love you more than life, love Lily and the sprog just as much— But—“ he chokes up right then before ramming forwards. “I can’t— I can’t be the—“

“I know,” James interrupts, a thin, forgiving smile on his face. “Pete’ll have to do, but I’d still rather it you.”

“I’m so sorry James.”

“Me too.”

~My Wolfstar FIC Masterlist

#WOLFSTAR #REMUS LUPIN #SIRIUS BLACK #SIRIUSXREMUS #REMUSXSIRIUS #WOLFSTAR FLUFF #MARAUDERS #HARRY POTTER SERIES #THE HARRY POTTER SERIES #SPILT INK #DELETE LATER #TBH #LOL

55 notes · View notes

hanniiesuckle17 · 4 years

Text

Lover, Lover, Set Me Free...

A/n: I hope you like this! It’s been a while since I’ve written something like this! (not fully edited only partially edited) also i totally did not pull an all nighter to finish this hahaha.......

Requested by: @hannie-squirrel00 (thank you for requesting lovely! Sry it took a while! I wanted to do it right! <3)

Warnings: cussing, slightly 18+ themes, POV switching

Word Count: 13k

Summary: Jisung is one of the biggest players on campus. When Hyunjin bets him that he can’t get into the coldest girl on campus’s pants, Y/n gets unknowingly thrown into the ordeal. While doing his best, Jisung unconsciously starts to fall for this girl who means more to him that he is willing to admit to anyone- even himself.

Genre: Romance, angst, fluff, college!au, fuckboy!jisung, badboy!jisung, non-idol au

❁

When did university become a popularity contest? Wasn’t the whole point to come and learn? Instead, I’m fighting tooth and nail to get a spot in the costuming program with bitches who don’t even know how to sew on a damn zipper. My hard work is being looked over while girls making googly eyes at my professor get top priority in class.

“Y/n, if you aren’t careful you’re gonna sew your finger to your garment again.” My best friend, Felix, said next to me. I shook myself out of my trance and sighed, turning off my sewing machine and running a hand through my hair.

“Sorry, my head is just somewhere else.”

Felix scoffed next to me as he focused on hemming a lavender-colored slip. “I’d be spacy too if I hadn’t gotten laid in a year.” He nudged my shoulder making me laugh.

“I’m sorry that I don’t need to have an active sex drive to get work done. Besides, guys are a waste of time.”

“I strongly disagree with that last statement.”

Felix smirked and pulled his garment off the machine. Despite many girls pining after him, it was quite obvious Felix was into guys. Well...obvious to everyone except the girls who kept buying him vodka martinis when we went out to drink.

“Seungmin and I were gonna go out for drinks. You wanna come?” My best friend said packing up his stuff. I looked back at the dress I was sewing, then Felix. He was pulling his best puppy dog eyes on me.

“I will go tonight if you help me put boning in two corsets tomorrow.”

Felix grimaced. But I knew he would rather have a drinking buddy than have Seungmin leave him at the bar shitfaced. “Fine. But the first drink is on you.” I smiled and packed up my stuff, taking the garment with me. I could work on it back in my dorm tomorrow.

Felix happily dragged me out of the theatre department building and to the most popular campus bar on a Friday night. Seungmin was already seated at the bar nursing a beer when we arrived. Several people greeted Felix as we pushed through the crowded pub. “If it isn’t the famous Arctic Bitch!” I scowled hearing the name. Apparently, I had given myself quite a reputation without even trying.

Seungmin didn’t mean any harm by saying it. He just liked to poke fun at me. I bought Felix his first drink and the three of us shouted at each other over the loud music and voices in the bar. “Why is it so crowded tonight?” I shouted, frowning as someone elbowed me.

“Apparently, 3RACHA decided to show up a couple hours ago.”

“WHAT? I call dibs on Changbin!” Felix shouted, his eyes going wide. I rolled my eyes and stole a sip from Seungmin’s beer. I could honestly care less about those three bullheaded bone-driven music majors. I didn’t really see the appeal. So, instead, I steered the conversation away so I could in fact enjoy my night.

❁

Third POV

Han Jisung smirked as he watched the girl whose name he honestly couldn’t remember walk away back to her friends. He looked down at the number she had written on his wrist. He was in the middle of deciding whether or not he actually wanted to call her when a voice called to him.

“Han stop flirting with random girls and come actually spend time with your friends!”

Chan motioned him over back to the booth that his three friends sat in. Hyunjin scoffed and took another drink from his gin and tonic.

“Do you really have to do that?” Changbin asked, downing the rest of his drink.

“What?”

“Bone everything that moves.”

“Please. Han is not as good as he thinks he is.” Hyunjin said, slapping Jisung on the shoulder. Jisung glared at his friend. He and Hyunjin bickered, but Hyunjin didn’t usually bring out the big punches like that.

“Oh yeah? I can get any girl in this bar to sleep with me.”

“You really wanna do this?”

“Yes. Give me your best shot.”

Chan sighed, his hands covering his face. “Guys, don’t do this. I like this bar. Don’t kill the bar. I wanna come back here.” Changbin chuckled, enjoying the situation as he nursed his second cocktail. Jisung watched with a smirk as Hyunjin looked over all the girls in the bar. His grin stayed strong when Hyunjin turned back to him with a smile.

“You, sir, are in luck. Guess who I spotted at the bar?” Hyunjin quipped.

“Your mom.” Han held his hand up to Changbin for a high five, and the boy reluctantly complied.

“I challenge you to get Seoul University’s Arctic Bitch to sleep with you,” Hyunjin said pointing to the bar. Jisung followed Hyunijn’s direction and looked across the bar. His eyes fell on a girl with h/c hair and a stern expression on her face as she stole a sip from her friend’s beer. She wasn’t the hottest girl he had ever seen, but her ass wasn’t half bad.

“Challenge accepted.” Han moved to get up from the booth, but Hyunjin stopped him once more.

“Hold up big boy. You’ve gotta give me proof too.”

“What kind of proof?”

“I don’t know. Picture, video, something like that. I’ve gotta know it’s her and not one of the random sluts you usually hook up with.”

Han thought about it for a minute. He glanced over at Chan who shook his head solemnly. Of course, Chan would be against this. “Fine. What do I get if I win?” Jisung stated, shaking Hyunjin’s hand. Hyunjin thought for a minute.

“If you get her to sleep with you AND get proof- I’ll give you $1500.”

The other boys’ eyes went wide. Fifteen hundred dollars? Han started daydreaming about the new monitors he could get for his computer and the new sound system for his home studio. Plus that could go to paying off some of his student debt because God knows his parents weren’t gonna pay for this expensive college. “Oh, you got a deal!” Jisung glanced back over at the girl by the bar. This would be a piece of cake.

“If you can’t get Y/n to sleep with you...you have to go to graduation dressed in full lingerie. And heels.”

Chan and Changbin laughed, calling attention over to the boys for a moment. He had already agreed so there was no way he could back out of this. “Deal. I can’t wait to get my 1.5k!” Jisung smirked and poured himself another shot of soju before downing it like it was water. With a salute to his friends, the brunette haired boy crossed the bar to complete his challenge.

No way he would need three months to complete this.

❁

Y/n’s POV

We had been at the bar for only an hour and a half and Felix had already had three drinks, one of which was paid for by a very pretty- but not so observant- girl. It was kind of funny to watch him tipsily argue with Seungmin over who was the better role in our university’s musical, Chicago: Roxie or Velma.

“Fuck you, Min! Velma is a boss ass bitch in thigh highs! Whatcha gonna do about it, BRO?”

“Lix, drink some water,” I said, pushing my water towards my best friend. He pulled the drunk move and took the tiniest sip before turning back to his word assault against our other friend. Seungmin was only slightly more sober, but still argued with passion for his girl Roxie. Suddenly, there was a tap on my shoulder.

“Hey, you’re....Y/n, right? Lemme buy you a drink.”

My eyes raked over the boy in front of me. His brown hair brushed over the corner of his forehead and his eyes had a mischievous glint to them. A confident smirk played on his lips as his hand ghosted over my waist, before turning to the bar and back to me.

“What’s your poison? Cosmopolitan, right?”

“Actually, I’ll take a Godfather.”

I stifled a laugh at the near microscopic flash of surprise on his face. He quickly regained his cocky composure and looked me up and down. “Whiskey. A girl after my own heart.” While he turned to the bartender and ordered my drink I took the opportunity to turn back to my friends and roll my eyes. But, to my surprise, Felix was standing slack-jawed behind me staring at the guy attempting to flirt with me, his argument with Seungmin forgotten.

“Sorry, who are you and why should I care you like whiskey?”

The shock was evident on his face as he turned back to me. He blinked a few times before looking around the bar in confusion. “You don’t know who I am?” He scoffed when I shook my head. The bartender handed me my drink as well as a jack and coke for the boy next to me. “This might be harder than I thought,” he muttered under his breath before taking a large sip from his drink. I was driving so this would probably be my one and only drink for the night. “I’m Han Jisung. I’m one of the rappers in 3RACHA.”

“Ah....that explains the air of entitlement.”

He sighed and took another swig of his drink, leaning on the bar. I was starting to get frustrated; I came to have fun with my two friends, not get hit on by some cocky asshole. “Look Jinyoung-”

“Jisung.”

“Right. Whatever. I came to have fun with my friends. So, thanks for the drink. Why don’t you just call...Mina,” I said reading the name on his arm written in girly handwriting. “Cause she already seems interested in your deal. But, I’m not so.....bye!”

Without another word, I turned around and returned to my friends, who were speechless. I couldn’t help but watch their eyes track Jisung’s form all the way back to the booth with the rest of his friends who could be heard laughing- most likely at him- from all the way across the bar.

“You just shot down the second hottest guy on campus.”

“Second hottest?”

“Yeah, have you seen his friend Chan? Boy’s got abs like a washboard.”

I could practically see Felix’s mouth start to water. “Keep it in your pants, bud.” Seungmin laughed at my comment and threw an arm lazily around my shoulder. “Min, are you drunk already?” He just giggled and started poking my cheeks. I downed the rest of my drink and let Seungmin rest his head on my shoulder.

“Come on, dummies. Let’s go home.” Felix followed me out of the bar as I carried Seungmin to my car. I was pretty sure I heard cheers behind me as I opened the door, when I turned I saw Felix twirling his shirt over his head and dancing with some random guy near the exit.

“FELIX!”

He whined as I dragged him away from the guy he was dancing with. “Noooooooooooo! He was so sweet!” I laughed and strapped my best friend into the car safely. Tonight was certainly not what I had expected.

❁

A car horn blaring outside my window sent me shooting up in bed. My hair stuck up in ungodly directions. Yet another night of restless sleep.

I rubbed my eyes and checked the time. About nine in the morning. No matter how early I went to bed I never seemed to get a good night’s rest.

Lazily I rolled out of bed and slipped on some shorts. My tired body shuffled into the dorm living room. I laughed seeing Seungmin half falling off my couch, asleep; it wasn’t uncommon for him to crash at my dorm after having a few drinks. My roommate didn’t really mind seeing as she had quite the little crush on him.

Speaking of, the sound of her door opening caught my attention. “Morning Lia,” I whispered. She started to speak but covered her mouth when she saw Seungmin passed out on the couch. “You want some tea?” I asked, setting a kettle on one of the burners. She nodded, sitting down and crossing her long legs on one of the kitchen stools.

Lia was maybe a year older than me and also a theatre major with a focus in performance. She had landed the lead in many of our university productions including our current musical, Chicago.

“So, Seungmin was in quite the heated argument last night.” My dormmate’s eyes widened at the mention of the boy’s name. “He was quite adamant on making Lix understand that Roxie was the greatest lead in the show.” A dark tint rose to her cheeks as she glanced at the sleeping hungover boy on our couch. Lia was playing Roxie in our production this year.

“He probably just likes the character.”

I rose a brow and handed her a mug of tea, before sipping on my own. “Sure, he does. Because our techie Seungmin just adores the motivations of a starstruck murderess.” Somehow her cheeks grew even darker.

“I have to go work in the Shop today, could you watch him while I’m gone?” She nodded with a small smile. The Shop was what we called the costume and scene shop. Basically, the backstage tech work area was the Shop.

After finishing our tea, we parted ways and got ready for the day. I slipped on my favorite sweatpants and threw on a semi-clean crop top. Feeling a little chilly, I threw on the matching grey jacket hanging on my desk chair. After fighting with my hair for ten minutes I gave up and started packing my backpack with things I needed for the day.

I groaned looking over at the corner of my room; I’d forgotten to take four rolls of rather expensive and custom fabric to the workroom yesterday, so I had to do it today. Gathering the fabric up in my arms, I headed out.

The sidewalks were practically empty as I crossed campus on my way to the Arts part of the university. My knee pushed up a slipping fabric roll before I continued my walk, pace quickening as I saw the auditorium building up ahead. Finally, I would be able to set these down soon.

“Ahh!”

My foot caught on a crack on the sidewalk and fabric unrolled and went flying through the air. I scraped my hands against the pavement bracing my fall. Slowly I sat up and looked at my palms. They were red, some of the scrapes breaking the skin.

“Fuck. Really?”

With a groan, I reached for the nearest roll and checked the material. Thankfully the black silk was still intact and not ruined. Carefully I started the process of re-rolling it, wincing at the rawness on my hands.

“Need any help?” A voice spoke beside me. Before I could respond, the person knelt down and started rolling up another length of red material. I scoffed seeing who the voice belonged to. It was Jisung, from the bar last night.

“I’ve got it.”

“I just saw you hardcore face plant. I don’t think you’ve ‘got it’.”

He laughed at my scowl and continued to help pick up the fabric I had dropped. As I began standing up, he grabbed my hand. “What the hell dude?” I said, pulling away from his grasp.

“Woah. Chill! You scraped your hand. I’m just trying to help.”

He tucked the rolls under his arm and unzipped a pocket in his backpack, bringing out bandaids and some antiseptic spray. I eyed him warily, but let him take my hand again. He glanced up at my eyes, gauging my expression before continuing to uncap the spray.

“This will sting a little.”

“Tsk. I’ve sewed through my finger, I think I can handle- AHHH OW! FUCK!”

He laughed, his eyes turning into happy crescent moons. I had to admit he had a nice smile. Then again, how many times had that smile gotten him into the pants of half the female student body?

I watched as he opened up two bandaids, gently laid them over my palm, and covered the scrapes. When they were secure, he looked back up at me with that cocky smirk.

“Want me to kiss it better?”

I rolled my eyes and yanked my hand away. “Anyway, Jiwon-”

“Jisung.”

His brows furrowed in frustration but he quickly plastered on a more than fake smile. It was honestly kind of fun messing with him; he was so used to being treated like some kind of sex god it seemed he had forgotten what it was like to be a normal human being like the rest of us. “Thanks for the help. I’m gonna go now.”

“Hey! Wait! That’s not how you thank someone.” Jisung said, grabbing back the two rolls of fabric in his arms as I tried to take them.

“Oh? And how do you propose I thank you?”

He smirked and looked me up and down. His hand ran through his brown locks as his tongue ghosted over his lips. “Well, I mean...” He shrugged as if the thought was just occurring to him. “I can think of a few ways you could return the favor.”

“Your genitals don’t come with a built-in bulletproof shield, so you better watch yourself, fuckboy.”

Jisung visibly gulped and slowly shifted the fabric rolls in front of his waist. I almost smirked seeing the brief look of fear for his manhood; he shivered under my stare and then regained his composure. “Man, they don’t call you the Arctic Bitch for nothing.”

My face fell and I ran a hand through my hair. “Look, I’ve got work to do, corsets to make, and I have to figure out how to sew rhinestones onto a lavalier.” Jisung seemed to take notice of my change in demeanor.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“Well, you’d be pretty offended if I called you a man whore. Same shit.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” He scuffed his shoe on the sidewalk and played with the edge of one of the rolls. Just because I would rather get through my insane credit hours than suck up to some bitch who’d probably drop out in a year doesn’t mean I deserve to have this hurtful nickname.

“Where are you going? I’ll help you carry these.” Jisung interjected, breaking the very awkward silence. I shook my head and once again tried to take back my fabric.

“I’m fine. You can go back to class or whatever.”

“I was actually headed to the studio to record with Changbin, but I’ve got time.”

I sighed. This man was persistent and not in a good way. There was no way I was going to get rid of him. “Fine. But if you fuck up that fabric I’m making you pay for it.” He smiled and tucked the fabric under his arm, following me to the back of the auditorium building.

I watched Jisung take in everything in the hallway and on the walls as we made our way to the costume shop. “What? Have you never seen the backstage of a theater before?”

“Nah. I’ve only done small venues. Nothing with a stage like this.”

I had almost forgotten Jisung was a rapper. As we came upon the workroom door, I adjusted the fabric in my hand and then pushed the door open with my foot. Jisung followed after I motioned for him to enter the room.

“Y/n! Do we really have to bone corsets? Like can’t we just cheat and put in a plastic lining?” Felix called out not looking up from his workstation. He sounded hungover. “Lia is tiny. Why does she need a fucking corset anyway--heyyyy there’s Jisung......Y/n why is he here?”

I dumped the fabric on a work table and Jisung did the same. “I picked up a stray. Thought you might like a pet.” Jisung rolled his eyes when I pointed behind me. When I turned around, Jisung still stood with his hands in his pockets. “You can go now.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“Yeah, what if he doesn’t want to, Y/n?” Felix said in a teasing tone. A quick but deadly glare sent his way quickly shut him up and caused him to turn around back to his workstation. Jisung sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Look. I’m meeting a couple friends at the bar tonight. Why don’t you come by?”

“Hard pass.”

“What if I want to go?” Felix chimed in.

“Yeah, what if he wants to go!” Jisung said with a smirk.

“Felix, shut up for like two seconds.”

Felix scoffed and returned to putting boning in a red lingerie corset. “We both know that’s not gonna happen.” He muttered under his breath. I heard Jisung let out a laugh at the little exchange.

“Whether I go to the bar or not tonight has nothing to do with you. It is probably reliant on the fact that I have no control over my best friend.” Felix chuckled behind me. Jisung shrugged and looked around the room before backing away.

“Okay.”

“Hey, Jisung! Put in a good word for me with Changbin?” Felix called out, leaning over his chair. Jisung let out a lighthearted laugh as he opened the door. Felix had a hopeful look on his face that made me want to vomit.

“Sure, why not.”

Then we were left in silence. I quickly began working, but I felt Felix’s stare on my profile. I knew he couldn’t stay silent for long. Felix couldn’t go four minutes and eighteen seconds without immediately spewing out his opinion. Seungmin and I had timed it once; exactly four minutes later, he erupted.

“ARE YOU SLEEPING WITH JISUNG?”

“Did you see me go home with him last night?”

“No....you went home with Seungmin--OH MY GOD ARE YOU SLEEPING WITH SEUNGMIN?!”

“What? No! Ew!” I said tossing an empty pin cushion at him. “Never in a million years.” Felix let out a hefty sigh of relief. My fingers quickly worked through sewing up a finished section of a corset.

Another silence followed as Felix turned back to our work. It was so obvious his thoughts were festering, just waiting to once again pop out. “So... how did Mr. Balls-for-Brains wind up helping you carry costume fabric?”

I shrugged, putting in another piece of spiral steel and lining it up in a corset panel. “He helped me when I tripped. Apparently, the music department recording studios are near here.”

“Uh....no they're not. The studios are on the other side of the Arts campus.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m pretty sure he was just hanging around the theatre buildings until he saw you.” Felix laughed as I shuddered. I took a quick breath as the needle pricked my finger. This conversation was seriously distracting me. “So....we are going out tonight though. Right?”

“I’m not going out dressed like this.”

“Just grab something from the racks. Mr. Jung won’t mind.”

“If we are going out, I’m drinking.”

“No argument from me. Then we get fun Y/n.” I threw another pin cushion at him, hearing a high pitched yelp beside me. The two of us worked for the next 6 hours until the sun started to set outside the Shop window. I let Felix dress me up from stuff on the racks and we called Lia and Seungmin to meet us at the bar.

When we arrived, it was certainly less packed than the night before. I pulled at the tight skirt Felix had put me in, wishing it to cover more of my thighs than its length allowed. Seungmin whistled as I sat down next to him at the bar. He turned my barstool to face him and Lia, who smiled and clapped at my appearance.

“Is this global warming because the Arctic is hot tonight!”

I slapped his shoulder and turned back to the bartender to order my drink. “I would recognize this anywhere. This is the work of the Great Felix Stylist extraordinaire.” Lia exclaimed, letting Felix take a bow. The bartender slid over my drink and I rested my feet against the bar stool. They were sore from the heels Felix had put me in; only once every so often would I let him play dress up on me.

The night rolled on and I even danced with Lia after a couple more drinks. We came back off the dance floor to see Jisung talking with Felix and Seungmin, his arm leaning against the bar. “Jackass alert,” I whispered to Lia as we approached.

Jisung’s eyes widened when he saw our approach. He seemed to drink in my entire body, not letting any part of me go unseen. “Hey, gorgeous.” He said with a smirk, his eyes dragging over me once again as he sipped his drink. “Can I talk to you?”

“Sure, I said standing next to Felix and stealing a sip from his gin martini. I was really thirsty after dancing so much with Lia. He glanced from me back to my friends who were watching us expectantly.

“I meant alone.”

With a nod, the rest of my friends started moving towards an open booth. I stopped Felix, a hand on his martini glass. “Leave it. I’m going to need more alcohol for this.” With a sigh and longing look at his drink, he left it in my hands.

“Are you drunk?”

“Not nearly enough.” I plainly stated before drinking some more of Felix’s martini. My face soured. I forgot he liked gin. Jisung laughed as I put the drink on the bartop.

“Look. I think you and I should go out.”

“And I think you should jump off a cliff. Preferably one the size of your ego.”

“Ouch.” He said with an unaffected smile. His eyes darted to a girl walking by us, but he quickly diverted his attention back to me. I tried not visibly throw up in my mouth at the action. “Let’s hang out this week.”

“Sorry; not into late-night booty calls since...well...ever.”

He sighed and ran a hand through his brown hair, a habit of his I had picked up on. I couldn’t decide if it was out of frustration or nerves. “Come on. I’m not that bad.”

“Your reputation says otherwise.”

“I could say the same about you.”

He smirked when I fell silent. My fingers played with the rim of the martini glass. I hated that he totally won that argument.

“I’ll make you a deal,” His words made me look up and quirk an eyebrow. “For the next two months, you get dinner with me twice a week and we text once a day.”

“I’m not going on a dinner date with you. I have zero time. I have to bring home my costume work as it is.”

“I never said it was a date. I just want to get to know you, Y/n.” Jisung chuckled and adjusted the clasp of my necklace, making me freeze. “We don’t have to go out to eat. I’m sure it’s hard to focus on work with a theatre major as a roommate. You can come over and I’ll order take out.” I had to admit that the offer sounded tempting. I loved Lia but she could be loud as fuck when prepping for a show.

“Still low key sounds like a date.”

“I swear I will not touch you unless you ask me to.” He winked and I rolled my eyes. “And you will ask me to. Eventually.” A heavy and anger filled sigh left my lips and Jisung leaned away. I honestly hadn’t noticed he had gotten closer.

“Lia is going to think something is up. Felix is for sure going to think I’m sleeping with you. And Seungmin...”

“You aren’t dating Seungmin are you?”

He smiled when I shook my head no. “Anyway, there is no way I’m telling my friends I am hanging out with you.” He shrugged and sipped more on his drink. I was starting to feel a little bit of the alcohol’s effect.

“I’m chill with that. So, you bring over your costume...stuff...on Monday and we can order in and get to know each other.” I shrugged and gave him a small nod. Jisung smiled in victory.

“You do know I’m not going to let you walk away from this conversation looking that happy.”

“And how do you propose you fix that?”

“I was thinking either a slap or a drink.” Jisung laughed and downed the rest of his drink, I assumed Jack and Coke, like the night before. He motioned with his fingers and tapped his chest.

“Give me your best shot, gorgeous.” His willingness made me laugh, genuinely. “Although, I would prefer not to have a huge red mark on my cheek.”

I nodded sarcastically. “Oh. Of course. We can’t damage the precious merchandise.” He groaned when I pinched his cheek. To be honest, I could not believe I was having a nice casual conversation with Han Jisung, 3RACHA’s legendary fuckboy.

“Well then, I’ll see you on Monday. I’ll be at the Shop.”

“I’ll see you then, gorgeous.”

I rolled my eyes and picked up Felix’s martini. “ASSHOLE!” I yelled before tossing the drink in Jisung’s face. “Wow, that was really fun,” I whispered with a smile before walking away to my friends.

“Y/N THAT WAS MY DRINK!! NO! MY ALCOHOL!” Felix said, fake crying.

❁

Jisung’s POV

The gin stung my eyes and Y/n was kind of blurry as she walked away, but I could hear the smile in her voice. This was ironically the first time I had let a girl toss a drink in my face. AND FUCK I WOULD NEVER LET IT HAPPEN AGAIN.

I wiped my face and stumbled away from the bar, trying not to get even more liquor in my eye as I followed the laughter of my supposed ‘friends’ in our usual booth.

“And the King has struck out yet again,” Changbin said as I sat down. Chan laughed but handed me a napkin to wipe my stinging face. A couple strands of my hair fell wet in front of my eyes. “What is this? The third time you been denied by Y/n?” Bin laughed and drank from his (probably) fifth beer of the night.

“Han, I hate to say it. But I am so looking forward to seeing you in lingerie accepting your diploma.”

“I wouldn’t get ahead of yourself, Hyunjin.” All eyes turned to me as I blinked wildly. My vision was just starting to come back. I looked over to Y/n and her friends. Felix was chiding her about destroying his drink and Lia was high fiving her for throwing it.

“...But she threw a martini in your face. I think that qualifies failure in every book I’ve ever read.” Hyunjin scoffed. Little did he know I had Y/n exactly where I wanted her. Soon she would be eating out of my hands. She would be begging for me to sleep with her before she even knew it herself.

❁

Y/n’s POV

Three weeks had passed and I had been drowning in work. Though I hated to admit it...Jisung was the only thing keeping me sane. He had been a really good friend to me for the past few weeks. Lia was the only one who knew about my little dinner rendezvouses with Jisung. And I was correct in the fact that I had been subject to her relentless teasing.

“Are you sure you guys aren’t dating?”

“We are not dating. We are just getting dinner twice a week, getting to know each other, not seeing other people casually, and maybe some.....flirting-- AND OH MY GOD HE TRICKED ME. WE’RE DATING.”

Lia laughed at my realization. I threw down the dress I was working on for Lia’s finale scene. The sound of beads hitting the floor rung throughout the dorm. “What are you gonna do about it?” Lia questioned, adjusting herself on the couch.

“I’m going to go over there and question the shit out of his ass.”

“Hell yeah! Text me!” She cheered as I grabbed my keys and ran out the door.

I slammed my car door and stomped up the stairs of Jisung’s apartment building. A million angry thoughts ran through my mind as I stormed down the hall to his apartment. Without another thought, I burst through the front door, which was oddly...unlocked.

“HAN MOTHER FUCKING JISUNG! YOU TRICKED ME INTO DATING YOU AND I-”

I froze taking in the scene in front of me. Jisung stood wide-eyed shirtless and holding a bottle of water, sweat dripping off his forehead. Another boy, who I recognized as Chan from 3RACHA, dressed in a tank top and sweats was seated on the couch, his face full of surprise at my entrance.

“Oh- uh.....sorry...I’ll just come back when you have...clothes.”

“No, it’s fine! I was just leaving anyway. Thanks for going to the gym with me Han.” Chan grabbed his jacket and exited in the most polite power walk he could manage. Though not without giving Jisung a thumbs up and then shutting the door.

“So how long did you think you were gonna get away with this?” He smirked and opened the water bottle. I was struggling to look anywhere but his tan chest. He obviously noticed. “Oh my god. Would you please put a shirt on!” He chuckled and came closer to me.

“What? Do I make you nervous?” He looked me up and down with dark eyes. My heart pounded in my chest. “Look, I know you’re mad. But, you can’t tell me that you didn’t have fun hanging out with me. Can you?”

“No,”

“And you can’t say that you aren’t at least the tiniest bit attracted to me. Right?”

“I’m not...not attracted to you...”

Jisung smirked and slid his hand around my waist, pulling me so our chests brushed against each other. “That’s not a straight answer.” He smiled at my lack of response. Jisung was clearly enjoying this.

“Well- you’re...not a... straight answer.”

Jisung laughed and let go of me. “But, seriously Y/n. I don’t know about you, but I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you these past few weeks and I really like you.” He took my hand in his and laughed, making his eyes turn into crescents. “So, why don’t we make it official? Y/n, let’s date.”

I blinked a few times before turning away from him. This was not normal. My hands came up to my temple, a sharp pain suddenly emitting from there. “You can’t be serious,” I said, turning back to Jisung. “There’s no way you like me. You like girls for one night stands. I’m not like that. So there is no-”

Jisung’s lips crashed against mine, his hands gripping my wrists gently. He’s kissing me. What do I do? As if reading my thoughts he pulled away just enough to look into my eyes and smile. “Y/n, don’t overthink it. Just let go for once. You’re with me.”

His hand slid down to my waist and his fingers tangled in my belt loops, pulling me closer. My brain was in overdrive. I hadn’t been kissed in so long. Maybe what I said to Felix wasn’t totally the truth. Maybe I had just been depressing my long starved sex drive. Jisung was really nice and I really liked him. What would be the harm in letting myself have fun with someone I actually like for once?

“Okay...so maybe I like you a little bit.” Jisung smiled and brushed away a piece of hair near my face, grazing my cheek. My hands slowly came up to rest on his chest, his warm skin radiating off heat.

“So are we on the same page? You’re mine now?”

“Fine. I guess so,” I said with a laugh. Jisung smiled and kissed me again. His fingers dug into my hips and he tilted his head to deepen the kiss.

Kissing Jisung made my head spin in the best way possible. Needing air for more than one reason, I pushed against his chest. “Hey, why don’t you go shower. I’m sure you need one after working out with Chan.” He smirked, his hands slowly moving lower than my waist. “No, I’m not showering with you.”

“Damn. Worth a shot. You wanna stay? I’ll order pizza.”

“Sounds good to me.” After kissing my cheek, Jisung turned and made his way to his bathroom. When the door closed I leaned against the couch for support. Keep it cool, Y/n. I have to remember to keep my guard up. Jisung can’t possibly just change overnight. While I want to trust him...something is holding me back.

Hopefully, I’m just paranoid.

❁

I rolled over in bed, not wanting to wake up. My hand brushed up against something cold. Opening my eyes, I saw my phone under my hand. The screen was still lit up and displayed a caller ID and call time of almost five hours. I smiled seeing Jisung’s name scrolling across the top. Did we really fall asleep on the phone?

Picking up the phone, I heard the sounds of his small breaths and soft snores. “Jisung,” Another soft snore made me smile. We had only been dating officially about a week, but I was really enjoying my time with him. “Jisung?”

“Mmph...I’m up...what’s happening?” He mumbled into the phone. Jisung must have fallen asleep on top of the phone. I laughed and sat up in bed, running a hand through my messy hair.

“I think we fell asleep on the phone, Ji.” His laugh could be heard over the phone.

“Ji?”

“What?”

“That’s the first time you’ve called me something other than my name or an asshole.” I blushed and rolled out of bed. “Y/n L/n are you starting to like me?” Jisung asked, his voice rough from just waking up. The gravely low tone sent a chill down my spine.

“Well, we are dating. That’s what two people do when they like each other, dummy.” I leafed through my closet, tucking the phone between my ear and shoulder. He let out what sounded like a forced laugh. Maybe it was just my imagination. It was my brain searching for things to make me not trust him.

“You want to drop by the studio later? I should be working all day but it would be kinda cool to see you.” My ears picked up on the sound of his fingers racing across a keyboard. What could he be working on this early?

No, Y/n. Don’t go there. I have to at least try and trust him. I can’t be nosy and wondering about everything in his life when we’ve only been going out a short time.

“Uh, I can probably drop by around three. I have an exam today I can’t miss.”

“Okay. I’ll text you the studio number. See you later, gorgeous.” With that, he hung up the phone. I tossed the device on my bed and finished getting dressed. A ding notified me of a text. Glancing at it, I saw Jisung sent me the number of the studio number he would be working in and a heart.

It almost set me a little on edge. I knew his personality. I even knew a few of the girls who had the unfortunate experience of falling into bed with him. It just seemed a little weird to me how doting he was with me when he was never like that with other girls.

Maybe he really was trying to make a change? That couldn’t be impossible. Could it? People change. Most often in fairytales and movies, but it happens like 1% of the time, right? These thoughts swarmed through my head as I walked into my lecture hall.

I sat in my usual seat, arriving about five minutes before class was set to begin. Looking up, I saw several sets of eyes staring at me; all belonging to different girls. Some had looked of pity, some disgust, but all looked slightly confused. Ignoring them, I pulled out my notes for a few more moments of study time.

“You’re the girl whose dating Han, am I right?”

I looked up to find a very pretty girl with blonde hair and big doe-like eyes. “Umm...yeah. Is there a problem or something?” She shook her head and sat down next to me with a smile.

“Oh! No, not at all. I just had to see for myself that’s all. My name’s Momo. I’m a dance major. I have a mutual friend of Han’s, Hyunjin.”

I nodded, glancing from her to my paper. I wasn’t really used to this much attention during class. Usually, I just focused on the lecture or project and didn’t talk much. “Yeah, I know they are friends, but I don’t really know Hyunjin myself.”

She nodded and twirled a pen between her fingers. I started to wonder what her relationship was with the boys. She was obviously gorgeous and she seemed just like Jisung’s type. I wouldn’t be surprised if they had slept together before.”I’ve just heard so much about you. All those rumors are totally bogus by the way. I would love if we could be friends.”

She took my hand in hers with a bright and blindingly white perfect smile. Did she not know what personal space was? “Uh....sure. I guess that would be cool. I’m usually pretty busy with making costumes for the university’s musical.”

“Here! Take my number! We can go get coffee sometime. I’d love to hear all the juicy tea about the girl who finally got the famous Han Jisung to stop sleeping around.” Momo ripped a piece of paper from her perfectly organized agenda and wrote her number on it. The professor started speaking as she handed it to me. Holy shit it was scented!

This day was just getting more and more confusing for me.

❁

Jisung’s POV

The studio was freezing as per usual. Even bundled up in a beanie and hoodie I was cold, pulling the sleeves further down my hands. I watched the monitor carefully and adjusted the headphones over my ears.

“Okay, Bin! You’re good.” Chan called to the boy in the booth after I gave him a thumbs up. “So, I take it things with Y/n are...good,” Chan asked hesitantly. The topic of Y/n was a sore subject for him so I was surprised he brought it up.

“Oooooo We talking about the Snow Queen?” Changbin said plopping down on the couch near the wall. I turned in my chair to roll my eyes at him. “I’m taking that as a sign you haven’t gotten in her pants yet?”

“She’s honestly kind of a prude....well. Not a prude. But you know what I mean.” Chan shook his head at my words.

Changbin threw a ball of paper at my head, making me send another glare his way. “Isn’t this the longest dry spell you’ve had. How long has it been?” I sighed pulling the headphones down around my neck.

“One month, five days, twelve hours, and twenty-two minutes.”

“You know it’s gross that you keep track like that,” Chan said taking a swig from his water bottle. “Y/n seems like a nice girl. It’s kind of sick you and Hyunjin using her like this.” I shrugged, not really caring.

“I mean, I guess. But, I would rather be $1,500 richer.”

“Just remember Y/n has feelings too.”

I nodded and turned back to the monitor looking at the track we just recorded. As if on cue, the door opened and Y/n’s voice could be heard greeting the other boys.

“Hi!- Oh! Sorry, I didn’t expect anyone else. I’m Y/n. It’s nice to meet you.”

Turning, I saw her shaking hands with Changbin and Chan. “Y/n that’s Bin, and you’ve met Chan,” I said pointing to the boys. “Now you’ve met all of 3RACHA.” I pulled her hand, dragging her closer to my chair. Chan rolled his eyes when I pulled her down and kissed her cheek. The smile on her face did not go unnoticed by the boys.

“How was your exam?” I asked, playing with her fingers.

“It was okay. I passed for sure. A girl named Momo asked to get coffee with me. Apparently, she knows your friend Hyunjin.” My eyes went wide and I stood up, pulling her to my side with a nervous laugh.

“Well, uh... I think we’ve all done enough work today. Y/n you wanna go get some boba or something. I’m hungry what about you? Bye guys!” Quickly I pushed her out the door and waved goodbye to the boys.

I had my fingers crossed that Hyunjin was keeping his big mouth shut.

❁

A month and a half. That’s how long I had left before I lost and was forced to be utterly humiliated in front of the entire university. Y/n and I had been dating for almost three weeks and hanging out for longer. I had to make a move tonight.

My friend Minho had hooked me up with some tiny night vision camera that I had hidden all around my apartment. I knew Y/n was starting to trust me more, so this was the opportune time. She was coming over any minute now. I checked my reflection in the mirror and ran my hands through my hair.

$1,500 here I come.

A knock bounced off the walls of my apartment. I checked the time. 8:30 pm. She was late by about forty-five minutes, which was not usual for her. What was it she always said? Early is on time and on time is late? Some weird theater shit like that.

Something was up.

I rushed to the door and opened it to find Y/n standing at my doorstep. She gave me a tired smile and kissed my cheek in greeting. She looked like she felt awful. “Hi, Ji! Sorry, I’m late. Felix bailed on me so I had all this extra work to do for the musical and I have a semester project due this week-”

“Y/n what’s wrong?” She sighed and collapsed onto the couch. Sitting next to her I could see the concealer under her eyes attempting to hide the dark shadows. She never wore makeup unless she was going out. I was surprised even remembered that. “You can tell me anything, gorgeous.” She smiled when I took her hand.

This might be better than I thought. Comfort her. Get the proof I need. Shove it in Hyunijn’s face. I could tell she was deciding whether or not to trust me. If it was something small she would tell me no problem.

But... maybe this was something bigger.

“I’m just...really stressed.” She said, pushing her hair away from her face. I could see the wall she had slowly building itself back up. There was pain behind her eyes. She was hurting. Why did that make me sad?

“That’s not all this is.” I turned towards her fully, giving her my complete attention. She crossed her legs up on the couch and stared at her fingers. When I lifted her chin I saw tears on the brink of falling from her eyes.

“I just... feel like...- nevermind it’s stupid.” She shook her head and looked around my apartment. She tried to laugh it off but frowned when she saw my face. Y/n let out a shaky breath when I took her hands in mine, resting them in her lap.

We sat in silence for a few minutes. Just sitting across from each other on the couch. She seemed to be working up the courage to tell me something.

“Nothing I ever do...seems to be...enough.” I looked at her, waiting for her to continue. “I work my ass off. All the time. But, it feels like I can’t do anything right lately. Not enough for my mom. Not enough for my teachers. Certainly not enough for Tech Recruiters. I just feel like I’m falling short on everything I do. And I’m tired. I just want to be enough for someone. But, who am I kidding? Nobody likes me. I’m Seoul University’s Arctic Bitch, right? I’m too coldhearted and selfish to get anywhere in life, let alone convince any theatre company to hire me so I can pay off my student loans. I’m just so fucking tired of feeling this way. Sorry for whining. I know you probably had other plans for tonight.”

She wiped the tears from her cheeks and stared out the living room window. “Hey,” I said pulling her attention back to me. Surprisingly, she let me reach up and wipe a tear from her cheek. “Look at me,” Reluctantly Y/n met my eyes. “You are more than enough for me.” She looked down and smiled, wiping more tears on her sleeve.

“Really?”

“Really.” I ran my thumb over her knuckles and smiled at her. It took a lot for her to open up to me like that. “You have just been bottling this up haven’t you?” She nodded and wiped another tear, before looking back up at me. Her eyes were still beautiful even when she was crying. “I do that too. It’s a habit we should both fix. Could you talk to Lia? Or Felix?”

She shook her head and started playing with my fingers. I started to like the feeling of her smaller hands in mine. “Lia has her own stuff to worry about. Her dad keeps pressuring her to join an entertainment company. And Felix...well Felix means well, but...” I was relieved to see her smile again. Her laugh was contagious.

“Yeah, I get it. Kind of like Changbin and Chan. They mean well, but they don’t understand sometimes.”

She nodded and played with one of the rings on my right hand. “Thank you for listening. It really means a lot that I can trust you like this.”

“You trust me?”

“I never thought I would say that but... I would never have told Felix that and he is my best friend.”She reached up a cupped my cheek. Her hands were warm and inviting. I stared into her eyes no longer seeing hurt behind her E/c orbs.

“You’re beautiful. You know that?” I said without thinking. My eyes widened and I pulled away from her touch. I had never said anything like that. Usually, everything I said to Y/n had a purpose or plan behind it. But, I just spoke without thinking.

Y/n smiled, her eyes turning even brighter. She leaned forward and kissed me. Something about this kiss felt different than the times I had kissed her before. My heart started to race and goosebumps crawled over my skin. I smiled when her hands pulled me closer to her, tangling her fingers through my hair.

A sigh escaped my chest when her teeth grazed over my lip. She pulled away only for a second to catch her breath before coming back to me. I pulled away when she threw her leg over my lap and straddled me. “What are you doing?” I asked as she kissed from my lips down to my jaw. It was exciting not to be in control for once.

“Showing you how much you mean to me,” She whispered before kissing my lips again. Instinctively, my hands gripped her waist wanting for no space left between my body and hers. I felt close to Y/n in a different way. I feel like I had been in this exact position with other girls, but with her it was different. Something about kissing her like this felt intimate. Like it was just for us to share.

Fuck. The cameras. They were still recording all over the apartment.

“Uh- Y/n...” I said pulling away from her, my hands planted firmly on her hips. “Are you sure you want to do this, gorgeous?” My eyes widened as she nodded and continued to drag her lips across mine. “Because we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” Please tell me to stop. If you don’t I don’t know what I’ll do with myself.

“Ji, I want this. Do you?”

“You have no idea.”

“Good. Do you trust me?” Y/n asked with a mischievous smile. I nodded watching her eyes twinkle in the low light of my apartment. She dragged her fingers down my chest and pulled at the hem of my shirt. As soon as the fabric was over my head and flung somewhere in the living room she smashed her lips onto mine.

My thoughts were running a mile a minute. How was I supposed to turn off all the cameras without her knowing? After seeing her in pain, I couldn’t hurt her like that. An idea popped in my head. Wrapping my arms around her waist I pulled her up and carried her, pushing her back against the nearest wall.

Her legs tightened around my waist, holding herself up. She looked down at me with hooded eyes before kissing me again. With one hand I kept her steady while the other searched the bookshelf next to me for the camera I put in the living room. Feeling the metal and plastic, I quickly turned it around blocking its view.

There should just be two more in my bedroom. “Ji,” Y/n moaned into my lips. She was driving me crazy. I was already more worked up from this than I had ever been with any other girl. She giggled when I carried her through the bedroom door and pressed her up against the wall. “You know...I haven’t done this in a pretty long time...” Her words were breathy and cut off when she joined her lips back to mine.

“You could have fooled me.”

My mind was kind of in a haze. All I could think about was Y/n. I couldn’t think straight with her hands all over me. Where did I put the second camera again? Her lips trailed down to my neck sending my brain and body into overdrive. Come on, Han. Focus.

The desk! Then the third was by my nightstand. I moved us over slowly, hoping she wouldn’t notice. I wanted to touch her so badly. But, I couldn’t betray her trust after she opened up to me like that. Joining my lips with hers, I felt blindly around the table for the small device. After I found it, I tucked it behind the monitor.

“Are you sure, gorgeous?” I asked one more time looking into her eyes.

“Jisung, stop asking or I swear I’m gonna-”

“You’re gonna what?”

“I don’t know. Just kiss me damn it.” She smiled when I smashed my lips onto hers. Her fingers pulled at my hair as I dragged my lips down her jaw. She joined our lips as I picked her up and carried her to the bed. The bed dipped as she laid on the mattress. Before I could reach for the nightstand she pulled me over, straddling me on the bed again.

I tried to keep my brain clear as she attacked my neck and chest with her lips. Knowing she was distracted, I grabbed the camera and threw it across the room wanting this to be done. Her head turned at the sound, but I pulled her back to my lips.

“You drive me crazy,” I whispered, reaching down and pulling at the hem of her shirt. My lips latched onto every bare piece of skin I could find, wanting to feel every part of her. I was ready to be with her, in more ways than I had thought.

❁

Y/n’s POV

I lay in the dark, staring up at the ceiling. Jisung laid beside me his arm slung across my stomach and soft snores leaving his lips. I smiled seeing him next to me. I had slept for a few hours but like usual, I had woken up in the middle of the night unable to fall back asleep.

Shifting onto my side, I looked at Jisung. He looked peaceful in his sleep. There was always something active about him when he was awake. Like he was never still. Seeing him in a state of calm was intriguing. My hand brushed the side of his cheek. A strand of his brown hair fell over his eyes, so I gently pushed it back and softly moved my hands through his locks.

Jisung let out a little hum in his sleep, making me smile. I started to pull away my fingers but Jisung’s hand shot up to keep it there, startling me. “What’s wrong, gorgeous?” Jisung mumbled, placing my hand back in his messy hair.

“I can’t sleep. Don’t worry about me.” I said quietly going back to playing with his soft brown tresses. He shook his head, brows furrowing in the cutest way. His fingers latched themselves onto my wrist, rubbing his thumb against my skin.

“I’m not sleeping unless you are,” He whispered, obviously half asleep.

“Shhh. Ji, go back to sleep.” Instead of complying he tugged me into his bare chest and started tracing soothing patterns on my lower back. In all honestly just that alone was making me just a little sleepy. My eyes were starting to droop, just laying in his arms, but my brain was still wide awake.

Suddenly, my ears picked up on the soft sound of Jisung singing. It was slow and gentle, his voice a little rough from sleep, but beautiful all the same. His voice was like honey, soothing my entire body. My fingers started to slow their movements as I tucked myself into Jisung’s chest.

I finally fell into a deep sleep listening to Jisung softly sing to me.

❁

Light streamed through the window, hitting me straight in the face. I groaned and tried to roll over. My brows furrowed when something stopped me. My tired eyes opened more to see Jisung still sounds asleep, holding onto me like a teddy bear.

Sensing my movements, Jisung’s eyes cracked open and smiled. “Good morning, gorgeous,” His voice was scratchy and low, sending chills down my spine. Jisung pushed himself up on his elbow and hovered over me with a drowsy smile.

“Morning, Ji,”

He genuinely smiled down at me and leaned down pressing his lips against mine. I felt him smile when I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Do you have class this morning?” He asked against my lips, which were most likely swollen from last night. Jisung himself had several darkening marks on his neck and collarbone.

“Not until tomorrow. Do you?”

“I was supposed to go record with Chan and Bin.”

“Supposed?”

“Like hell, I am going to leave you looking this beautiful in my bed,” Jisung said pressing his lips down my neck. “You want a shower? I’m gonna call Chan and tell him I’m not coming.” I nodded and pulled him up to my lips one more time.

“Thank you for last night, Ji. For everything.”

He smiled and kissed my cheek. “Feel free to borrow some of my clothes,” Jisung said with a smirk before rolling over and grabbing his phone on the nightstand. I grabbed a hoodie from his closet while he was distracted with his phone and headed to the bathroom.

❁

Jisung’s POV

“Chan, I’m in deep shit,” I whispered into the phone. I checked to make sure Y/n was out of the room. Chan scoffed over the line.

“Han. It is way too early for this. Did you accidentally email your professor a pornhub link again?”

“What no!” Chan sighed. “Look, Y/n’s over here.” He started freaking out over the phone. I sighed letting his panic play out.

“Oh no, no, no. You are not dragging me into this. Y/n is a nice girl. I want nothing to do with your and Hyunjin’s sick bet-”

“I think I’m starting to really like her. Like a lot.”

There was silence on the other side of the line. I decided that he was probably waiting for more information. Or he had passed out. Either was a probable response from Chris. “But, she’s at your apartment? Han, it’s like ten in the mornin-...You didn’t.” He took my silence as confirmation. “How could you? You said you like her!”

“I didn’t technically. I had these cameras set up, but I turned them off after she opened up to me and stuff started to happen.”

“YOU SET UP ACTUAL CAMERAS TO FILM HER?”

Chan screamed so loud I had to pull the phone away from my ear. Even then I could still hear him. “Did you hear the part where I said I turned them off. I have no proof....and honestly....I’m starting to question if I want any.”

“Wow. Good for you. You’ve had personal growth. Whoop-de-doo.”

“Hey. I am asking for advice, not sarcasm.” I said with a sigh. I ran a hand through my hair, feeling it sticking up in weird places. “What should I do? Chan...I really like Y/n, but I’ve been lying to her up until now.”

“You’ve got to tell her the truth eventually.”

“But, what if she hates me. I don’t think I could handle hurting her.” Chan sighed again. I could practically see his face. The guy probably just woke up and I was putting all this stress on him.

“I don’t know what to tell you,”

“I get it. Just don’t tell anyone about what we talked about, okay? At least until I figure out how to tell Y/n. I’m gonna stay here and think about it.” With that, I hung up the phone and laid back in bed. My fingers massaged my temple, feeling a sharp pain there.

Did I really want to keep up this bet?

❁

Y/n’s POV

A weel later Jisung and I were doing even better than we were before. We were actually going out on dates and also...staying in and doing...other things. Jisung had invited me to come and see 3RACHA perform tonight at a local club, so Felix was fussing over my outfit.

“Felix, I am not fitting into that dress.”

“You can squeeze!”

“A Polly pocket couldn’t fit into that tiny ass thing!”

“Come on, Y/n! Be my Barbie!” Felix said chasing me around the costume shop with a tiny piece of white fabric that barely passed the social standard of being a dress. Eventually, he tackled me and wrestled me into the tight-fitting dress.

“I feel naked.”

“Oh, please. He’ll love it.” Felix said throwing a pair of heels at me. I looked longingly at my pair of old tennis shoes. “If you aren’t wearing pumps at least wear some boots. We are clubbing after all.”

“Lix, we aren’t clubbing. We are watching Han perform.”

“Same difference.”

I sighed and slipped on the black heeled boots Lix threw on my workstation and grabbed the brightly colored graffiti jacket that Jisung ‘left’ at my dorm. He had been leaving more and more of his clothes lying around my room. I wasn’t complaining.

I drove both of us to the club and covered my ears entering the loud establishment. 3RACHA were already up on stage and performing a song so we pushed our way to the front. All the boys looked a little tipsy and had beers up on stage with them. Jisung saw me in the crowd and blew a kiss in my direction sending the whole crowd into a frenzy.

The show was incredible, though after I couldn't seem to get anywhere near Jisung. All the boys were hounded with fans and the crowd around them was too big to get through. “This is ridiculous. I can’t even get to my own boyfrien-” My world stopped when I looked over in Jisung’s direction by the bar. I swear everything happened in slow motion.

A girl with long platinum blonde wavy hair was draped all over Jisung’s arm. He talked to her while drinking yet another beer. I watched as she leaned up and cupped his cheeks, bringing him down for a sloppy kiss. The crowd cheered and I began to feel dizzy. “Y/n,” I heard Felix say, grabbing onto my elbow.

“I’ve gotta get out of here.”

The bass was so loud I could feel it pounding against my brain as I pushed through the crowd of dancing bodies. I heard someone calling my name, but I didn’t really want to talk to anybody. I just needed air. I needed to think.

“Y/n!”

I finally broke through the crowd and made my way outside the club. Where was my car? Where the fuck did I park? I ran a hand through my hair and looked around me trying to find my car in the see of dimly lit vehicles.

“Y/n!” A hand grabbed my arm and turned me around. Jisung stood before me, clearly drunk with lipstick all over his face. “Y/n, baby, it’s not what you think.” His voice, which had become my favorite sound, was slurred and broken up.

“Not what I think? Tell me, then. What was it?”

“Mina, she was drunk. She kissed me, but it didn’t mean anything. You know I only have feelings for you.” Did I know that? There was always this little thought in the back of my mind no matter how much I trusted Jisung that told me I was just another number in his playbook.

“Yes, she did kiss you. But that is a fucking cop-out. Because there is a reason she felt like that was an option.”

I tried to push away the tears that threatened to fall. Jisung broke looking at me. I wanted nothing more than for him to hold me and tell me everything was going to be okay, but I didn’t know if I could trust him right now. I could tell it hurt him when he reached out and I backed away, tears inevitably falling down my cheeks.

“Don’t cry. I die when you cry.”

“Jisung you can’t do that!” I said watching a tear drip down his cheek.

“What?”

“You can’t make me love you when I’m supposed to hate you!” I said slapping his shoulder and letting the tears flow freely. Not hesitating, he wrapped me up in his arms, even when I tried to push him away. He let me cry on his shoulder and beat on his chest until it physically hurt to breathe.

“You’re right. It is a cop-out.” His hand came up and rubbed my back like he had done every night he stayed with me. “Y/n, I’m so sorry I let it happen. I don’t know what I was thinking.” My knuckles turned white, gripping onto his shirt.

“Jisung, I’m tired of being hurt.”

“You are my everything, gorgeous.” He said lifting up my chin. I hated crying and feeling like this. It just sucked not being able to trust him when I wanted to be with him so badly.

“How do I know I’m not just another random hookup for you?”

“Because...” My heart dropped when he couldn't say anything.

“That’s the answer I needed. Thanks.”

I started to walk away but he grabbed my arm, pulling me back into his chest. Jisung smashed his lips on mine, desperation, and passion filling the kiss making my knees go weak.

“That’s how.” He said, pulling away.

❁

I woke up the next morning, in Jisung’s bed light streaming through the window. I really should get him curtains. I smiled thinking back to last night. Jisung promised to show me that I wasn’t just another girl to him. And boy did he. I had never felt so loved than when I was with Jisung last night.

I grabbed a big shirt of his that was lying around and slipped it over my head. My feet carried me out into his living room, where bright sunlight illuminated his only slightly messy apartment. A note on the coffee table caught my eyes.

Morning gorgeous,

Went out to get coffee and breakfast for us.

I’ll be back soon, so sit tight.

Ji <3

I smiled at his handwriting and the heart he left me. Lifting my legs up, I got comfortable on the couch and waited for Jisung to get back. The sound of a notification filled the room. Did I leave my phone in here?

I searched for the device and found it face-up on the counter. It said I had one voicemail. Swiping on the notification the voicemail started playing. The voice of a boy I didn’t recognize filled the living room as I brought the phone back over to the couch. “Hey, it’s Hyunjin,” Oh. This must be Jisung’s phone. I was about to put it back until I heard the boy continue.

“Just reminding you, you’ve got two weeks to get into Y/n’s pants or you lose the bet. Your reputation as campus King is on the line, bro. Oh and don’t forget the cash prize.”

I couldn't move.

❁

Han Jisung’s POV

The coffee line took forever, but I finally got my order and excited the shop. I was trying to balance the cup holder in one hand and hold the door open for another customer when something slammed into my shoulder. “Hey! Watch it!”

“Han?”

I looked up to see Hyunjin with a sly grin on his handsome face. “Hyunjin?” He clapped me on the back and helped me hold the door. “What’s up, man?” I asked when we were both standing outside.

“I actually just called you like twenty minutes ago.”

“Oh, sorry I think I left my phone at my apartment.” I shrugged, trying to move along the conversation. Hyunjin was the last person I wanted to see. Especially after what happened last night with Y/n. “What about?”

“Just to remind you that you’ve got two weeks until you officially lose our bet. Don’t worry, I left a message so you can’t forget.”

My heart dropped to my stomach. My phone was still in the apartment with Y/n. “Oh, shit,” I muttered, eyes going wide. Hyunjin seemed to pay my reaction no mind. He was still stuck in his own world like usual.

“Whose the other coffee for by the way?”

Fuck. She was gonna hear the message. No. She can’t hear it from Hyunjin. That asshole is going to ruin any chance I have left with her. Dropping the coffee and take away bag, I started sprinting across campus back to my apartment.

“HAN, WHAT THE FUCK?”

I prayed that Y/n was still asleep. Maybe I could get there before she woke up, delete the message and just put this whole bet thing behind me. Doing Hyunjin’s punishment seemed like nothing compared to losing Y/n. I burst through the lobby doors and spotted my landlord already in his office.

“Mr.Kang!”

“Good lord! Mr. Han, what can I do for you?”

“Uh...my girlfriend- the uh woman I came back with last night. Has she left yet?” I said completely out of breath. He stared at me like I was insane.

“Not to my knowledge. I didn’t even realize you were serious about someone.”

Before he even finished his sentence, I was pushing myself off his doorframe and racing to the elevator. I slammed the button and watched the elevator come down but it was taking too long for me. “Fuck this.” Racing up the stairs my heart pounded in my chest. Would she even still be there? Or would she just leave and not give me a second chance?

“Y/n?” I called halfway down the hall. I could care less about my neighbors at this point. “Y/n?” I burst through the door, knowing I left it unlocked. I let out a sigh seeing Y/n seated on the couch. My face fell, when I saw the dried tears on her cheeks. Without looking at me, she reached in front of her and played a recording on my phone. Hyunjin’s voice filled the room.

“Hey, it’s Hyunjin. Just reminding you, you’ve got two weeks to get into Y/n’s pants or you lose the bet. Your reputation as campus King is on the line, bro. Oh and don’t forget the cash prize.”

She stood up and kept her stare on the phone. She looked broken.

“Are you going to say something?” Her voice cracked like she was holding back tears.

All I could do was cross to her and take her in my arms. I held onto her, cradling her head against my chest, my heart still racing from the mild panic attack that was just now catching up to me.

“Thank god you’re still here.”

I felt a few tears fall from my cheek and into her hair. “Jisung...was that all I was to you? Some payout? A way to keep your title of Biggest Fuckboy on campus?” She pushed away from me and walked to the other side of the room. The distance felt like miles.

I could feel my heart breaking. “What-no. Maybe at the beginning, but it doesn’t matter.”

“It doesn’t matter? It doesn’t matter, Jisung? Yes. Yes, it does matter. You can’t keep lying to me and expect me to forgive you every time.” She yelled at me from across the room. I had never seen her this hurt or angry and it killed me.

“Y/n, please. Listen to me.”

“Listen to you? Your buddy Hyunjin just told me the whole fucking thing!”

“No! You have to hear it from me! What he said- it’s all turned around and screwed up. That’s why I wanted to be the one to tell you.” She backed away as I came closer.

“Why didn’t you just tell me last night?”

“Because I was afraid! I was afraid none of this would be real and this feeling would go away; that the meaning would be lost.”

“The meaning of what, Jisung?”

I grabbed her hand in desperation, scared she might walk out the door at any moment. “This. Right here. Us. You and me.”

“Jisung, there is no you and me anymore.” She said pulling away and walking back towards the bedroom. I raced forward and blocked the doorway. “Jisung, move.” She said pushing against my chest.

“No.”

“Jisung! I want out! I can’t love someone I can’t trust.” She pushed through me with as much force as she could manage. I watched as she picked up the dress she was wearing last night from the floor. She tore off my shirt that she was wearing and threw it in my face. Y/n struggled to put the white dress back on before grabbing her shoes and trying to walk past me.

“Y/n! Don’t leave, please.”

“How much was I worth Jisung? How much money were you going to get for fucking me?”

“$1,500. But, I didn’t take it! I didn’t even tell them that I slept with you because I didn’t care about the bet anymore. Y/n, please believe me. I will get down on my knees if you want me to.” She just stared at me in the doorway. “I will do anything to get you to stay.” Another silence passed. I felt small under her gaze. She had every right to be furious at me.

“Kneel.”

Quickly, I got down on my knees. I had never moved faster in my entire life. I looked up at her, sharing the same tear-stained cheeks. To my surprise, she got on her knees with me and wrapped her arms around my neck.

“Please, don’t hurt me anymore, Ji.”

Nodding I wrapped my arms around her and pulled Y/n into my lap. “I’m so sorry...I’m so sorry. I love you, Y/n. I’m sorry.” I cried into her shoulder. We just sat on the floor of my bedroom, holding onto each other, waiting for what would happen next.

❁

Y/n’s POV

The zipper on Jisung’s graduation gown was being a real pain in the ass. It had gotten stuck two inches from the top. They had already called my name and given me a diploma, so I came to sit with my boyfriend. He fidgeted while I sat in his lap.

“Man, this thing is tight.”

“Well, keep in mind I didn’t make it for you. I made it for Lia. Also, do you know how many girls would love their waist to fit into this?” I said slapping his shoulder.

“I think I’d rather be able to breathe.”

“Beauty is pain, Ji.” I said as I messed with his zipped. He nervously tapped on my thigh and waist as he listened to the Dean call out the names of students. “Damn this zipper.” My years of costume study were now being defeated by the zipper on my boyfriends graduation robe. “Ah-ha!” The zipper finally complied and moved up to the top of the robe.

“Han Jisung. Music Production Major.” The Dean called out over the speakers.

“Knock em dead, Ji,” I said kissing his cheek. Jisung smiled and walked up to the stage. Before the Dean could hand him his diploma Jisung unzipped his robe and the entire student body was filled with gasps and laughs. Jisung proudly presented himself wearing the red and black lingerie and corset I had made for Lia in the musical. It left nothing to the imagination, especially below the bodice.

The look on the Dean’s face was priceless and Jisung twirled in front of him and laughed along with our graduating class. Jisung shook the Dean’s hand and took his diploma. Before he walked off the stage he turned around pushed his robe aside and slapped his own ass receiving many cheers and wolf whistles from the students.

I laughed as he came back to his seat. He gave me a great big kiss and pulled me back onto his lap. “That was a piece of cake,” Jisung said, wrapping his arms around my stomach and resting his chin on my shoulder. I kissed his forehead with a big grin.

“I have never been so attracted to a man in lingerie.”

❁

Requests are open! Just send and ask, lovelies!

Masterlist

1K notes · View notes

hizashis-lil-bunbun · 3 years

Text

Like a Moth to a Flame Pt. 3

Back at it again and this chapter was fun! Next one we’ll be getting into some more juicy bits but I needed a setup for the scene. So enjoy my friendly little deviants!

Mild TW: mentions of blood, violence, attempted assault, and (very) minor character death

As always, I thank/blame @miscellaneous-bnha for the inspo

Part 1 Part 2

•••••

You feel numb walking down the darkened sidewalk towards home, shock and frustration making it difficult to put one foot in front of the other. It had been several weeks since you last saw Mirio, and there hadn’t been any reports of strange, paranormal activity in any other part of town. At least, not according to the papers. Even after the landlord had coughed up the money to replace the ruined fire escape, you’d yet to catch another glimpse of the golden mothman. Night after night you’d put out bowls of sugar water, stayed up late, even pulled a few strings of old Christmas lights out of storage to decorate your portion of the new railing. But come morning, you always found the bait untouched and it left you feeling drained and disappointed. You knew your nightly routine was starting to feel unhealthy, obsessive really, and that your performance at work had been gradually slipping as a result. But it wasn’t until today, when your boss called you in after your shift ended and handed you that soul-crushing pink slip, that you realized just how far it had fallen. And on top of all that, you’d missed the last bus home, forcing you to take a literal walk of shame back to your apartment.

“What am I gonna do?” You breathe into the crisp night air, unconsciously reaching into the pocket of your coat to fish out your phone. Without even looking at the screen, you unlock the device and open your camera roll, tapping on a folder marked “Moth” before finally looking down. There was only one picture on file, but you’d seen it so many times it was practically burned into your retinas. The image was grainy and blurred (not to mention overexposed beyond the point of recognition due to the flash), but you couldn’t give a damn about any of that. The only clear part of the image, the only part you cared about, was the pair of bright blue eyes staring back at you. For some unknown reason, the camera hadn’t distorted them, perfectly capturing their glassy, sapphire hue and wide-eyed expression of curiosity.

And you had spent countless hours poring over it.

In the beginning, you’d convinced yourself it was nothing more than a piece of evidence, proof of your sanity and a confirmation of his existence. But as the days passed, you’d come to take comfort in it, more often than not allowing your mind to wander freely back to the memory of his voice in your ear and the warm weight of his head on your shoulder. You hadn’t even posted it to any of the online forums, jealously hoarding it the same way a dragon protects its treasure.

“Mirio.” You exhale softly, thumb absentmindedly brushing over the cracked surface of your phone screen. “I wish I could fly away from my problems like you. Must be nice having wings…”

“Hey there, baby!”

A gruff, slurring voice abruptly snaps you back to reality, head whipping up to see a trio of men leaning against a rundown building across the street. Their faces are indistinguishable, partially obscured by shadows thrown from a lone street lamp shining over their heads. But you can clearly make out the brown paper bags they have clutched in their fists, the material crumpled and molded into the tell-tale shape of liquor bottles as they continue to heckle you.

“Why dontcha come over here and hang out with us?” The biggest brute calls out, beckons you closer with a crook of his finger. “We’ll show ya a good time.”

“Yeah, a real good time.” The man to his left cackles. His lewd remark earns him a few snickers from his seedy friends while a wave of revulsion courses down your spine. Catcalling wasn’t exactly foreign to you; in this part of town, it was practically expected. But their drunken words and leering eyes make you acutely aware of just how empty the streets are right now, devoid of other people or passing cars to offer protection (or witnesses) should they decide to take things too far. Still, you straighten your spine and snap your eyes forward, long-since trained to know it’s best to ignore their booze-fueled jeers and keep walking.

“Awww, don’t be like that, baby!” You hear one of them call from your right, “We just wanna have some fun!”

You keep your gaze trained on the looming silhouette of your apartment complex, soles of your shoes clicking against the cold pavement as you grip the phone in your hand even more tightly. You’re close enough to see some of the lights are still on your neighbors windows, probably cleaning up from dinner or settling in for a smoke and a drink. With the promise of safety so close at hand, you cast a quick glance over your shoulder….

And feel your blood run cold as you see the men casually strolling across the empty street to fall in line behind you. They’re whispering amongst themselves as they take a few more swigs from their bottles, their shuffling gait and longer legs quickly closing the gap between you. You pick up your own pace in turn, walking much more briskly now and earning a reproachful growl from the men behind you.

“Hey! I’m talkin’ to you!” One of them snarls, “Didn’t your mama ever teach you it’s rude to ignore people?”

You don’t respond to his jab, too afraid to speak regardless, and set off at a jog, determined to put as much distance between yourself and these morons as possible. But that action proves itself to be a grave mistake, as you hear the footsteps behind you pick up in speed. Before you can fully register what’s happening, one of the men appears over your right shoulder, laughing maniacally as he gives you a rough shove and sends you careening off course and into an adjacent alleyway. The unexpected move knocks you off balance, sending you sprawling to the ground and knocking your head into the concrete with enough force to set your teeth rattling. Even worse, you lose your grip on your phone, hearing it skitter off into the darkness as the men crowd into the alley after you.

“I think she could use a lesson in manners! Ain’t that right, boys?” Their leader asks mockingly, seconds before he grabs you by the hair and roughly hauls you back onto your feet.

“Please!” You yelp, both from fear and the pain shooting throughout your scalp, “I-I have money. You can take whatever you want!”

“Whatever we want, huh?” He says with a sneer, his face close enough you can smell the sour aroma of cheap bourbon and old cigarettes on his breath.

“Then gimme a kiss, sweetheart.”

His mouth is on yours in an instant, his free arm wrapping itself around your waist to keep you in place as he tries to force his tongue past your sealed lips and down your throat. Your screams for help are muffled by the kiss, and it’s all you can do to push against his chest and thrash wildly in his hold. His companions stand faithfully behind him, egging him on with bouts of derisive laughter intermingled with hoots to “hurry up and get on with it” so they can have their turn. After a few moments he pulls away for air, arm leaving your waist and clapping the hand that was tangled in your hair over your mouth. Meanwhile, his buddies move to either side of you to grab you by the shoulders and force down on your knees.

“Since you didn’t feel like talkin’…” He growls dangerously, free hand toying with the buckle of his belt. “Let’s see if that pretty little mouth is good for somethin’ else.”

Your eyes widen as his belt comes undone with a soft clink, tears pricking at the corners as he leers down at you. Instinct takes over as he attempts to undo his fly, and before he can move his hand you jerk your head back to partially free your mouth. Then you bite down. Hard.

“Fuck!”

He hastily wrenches his hand from your mouth before you can do any more damage while you take in a desperate lungful of fresh air. A quick glance at his hand shows you’d successfully broken the skin, leaving a perfect, crescent-shaped indent that was quickly beading up with fresh blood.

“Help! Somebody help! Rape! RA-!”

You’re abruptly silenced by a quick blow to your right cheek, delivered by one of the men still holding you down. Throbbing pain radiates out from the point of impact, making your vision white out and earning a cruel laugh from your captors.

“You little bitch!” The injured man spits at you, “Think you’re so tough, huh?”

A small click forces your eyes to open, only to be met with a glint of metal in the light of the full moon: a switchblade.

“Let’s see how tough you are when I slice up that pretty face of yours. Starting with that fuckin’ mouth.”

With a twirl of the blade, he advances towards you, relishing in your helpless state as greedy eyes roam the plane of your terrified face. You’re too scared to scream anymore, eyes squeezing shut as you brace yourself for the first cut. But instead of searing pain, there’s an odd rustling noise, followed by a colossal thump that seems to shake the very earth beneath you. The men holding your shoulders abruptly release you, backing away amidst a slew of bewildered curses. Slowly, you crack one eye open to find a new, dark figure standing in front of you, blotting out the moon itself and effectively shielding you from your would-be rapist.

“M-Mirio?” You gasp, voice wavering from disbelief and shock. The golden cryptid looks over his shoulder at you, only giving a chittering cry at the sound of your voice.

“What the fuck!?” The man behind him screeches, “The fuck is that thing?!”

Mirio’s head snaps around to face the terrified thug, wings slowly raising in a show of strength and dominance as he lets out a low, menacing growl.

“Y/N…” He snarls, taking a short step forward and shifting into a crouch. “Mine.”

“S-stay back!” The man stammers, jabbing the switchblade into the empty air in front of him like a puny saber. “I’m warning you!”

Mirio gives a low hiss in response, wings fully extended as he lowers himself to place one hand on the ground. You’re frozen on the spot, hardly daring to breathe as you sense the slightest movement could set him off. For a moment, everything is still. And then, spurred on by loyalty, liquid courage or a combination of the two, the other thugs charge Mirio from behind. Moving faster than you could comprehend, Mirio whips around with a high-pitched shriek, landing a powerful swipe to the center of one man’s chest and sending him crashing to the pavement beside you. The other one was luckier, successfully jumping onto the monster’s back and causing Mirio to rear up on his back legs once more. The attacker then attempts to wrap his arms around Mirio’s neck, perhaps hoping to cut off his air supply or at least distract him long enough for the third man to join the fray.

But Mirio was obviously stronger and smarter than he was expecting.

Clawed hands scratch at the attacker’s face and shoulders before the winged behemoth suddenly flops onto his back, bringing his full weight down on the foolhardy attacker with a sickening crunch. Rolling back onto all fours, the man is left gasping for air on the ground, possibly with a punctured lung or (at the very least) a few broken ribs. Undeterred by his pitiful cries for mercy, Mirio looses an unearthly roar before grabbing the man by the front of his sweat-soaked shirt, rising to his full height, and tossing him towards the empty street like he weighed no more than a ragdoll.

“MINE!” He bellows, “MIIIIIIINE!”

“Fuck you!” The remaining man screams in return, rushing towards the towering beast with his switchblade held aloft. “Die, you fuckin’ freak!”

Mirio shifts back into a fighting stance, his back to you as he lets out another spine-chilling howl and rushes forward to greet the oncoming attack. At the same time, the moon moves behind a cloud, throwing the alleyway into inky darkness as you shriek and cover your head with your hands. With your eyes screwed shut, all you can hear is the man’s incensed grunts and yells, overshadowed by Mirio’s own enraged roars and the scratch of his nails on the dirty concrete. After a few seconds of struggle, Mirio gives a piercing cry, followed by the wet sound of tearing flesh and a strangled, gurgling noise. The fight ends as suddenly as it started, the only sounds now coming from your own terrified whimpers and the clatter of the switchblade falling to the ground.

Peeking out from between your fingers, you find the sky has started to lighten once more, the moon reappearing from behind the clouds and washing the bizarre scene in an unsettling, ethereal hue. The scrawniest attacker is still sprawled out next to you, unconscious but mercifully alive given the force of his impact. Mirio stands facing towards you, breathing heavily as the wings on his back shiver and shake. And at his feet, eyes wide and lifeless, is the leader’s body, his face covered in deep claw marks and a puddle of blood seeping out from underneath him like an oil slick.

“You… you killed him.” You breathe, “Mirio, h-he’s dead.”

Mirio doesn’t make any move to acknowledge your words, simply sinking to his knees with a rumbling groan. He seems almost sad, remorseful even, with the way he hangs his head and curls his bloodied hands into fists atop his knees. In this new light, you also notice something on the mothman’s left forearm: a clean, shallow gash. That must have been the cause for his shrieking earlier.

Slowly you stand once more, swallowing the lump in your throat to take a few tentative steps toward the creature.

“Are you… hurt?” You ask softly, noting the way he jolts and then shrinks away from you. You’re only a few feet away now, close enough to make out the faint stripes and eye-spot pattern on his wings. You nervously crouch down, balancing on the balls of your feet but keeping a safe distance should he turn aggressive. A chilly breeze blows through the alley, pushing against your back and making the creature raise his head up slightly, sniffing the air. His gaze locks on your face, glassy eyes wide as he slowly puts his palms on the ground and gets back on all fours. He moves one clawed hand closer to you and you start for a second, taking a quick step back before catching sight of the streaks of blood dripping from his forearm once more.

“Hurt?” You say again, pointing a shaky finger at the wound. His eyes follow to where you’re pointing and he lets out a chittering mewl, lifting up his injured arm. His long, slithering tongue snakes out from his mouth and he begins to lap at the blood, wincing at the taste. You’re unsure if this is real or an act. On the one hand, it’s hard to believe a creature so obviously powerful as him would be so concerned over little more than a scratch. Then again, you feel certain Mirio is too much of a gentle soul at heart to fake the whole “kicked-puppy” routine.

“No. Don’t do that.” You chide gently, tone forcing the monster to stop licking at himself and look up at you. Moving slowly so as to not startle him, you reach into the pocket of your coat and fish around until your fingers close around a crumpled, but thankfully unused, piece of tissue. When you pull it out of your pocket, Mirio’s eyes narrow into slits and he bares his teeth to let out a small, warning hiss.

“Easy, boy.” You say soothingly, “It can’t hurt you. See?”

You extend your free hand and pat the tissue against your own palm, demonstrating it’s benign nature. Mirio’s face gradually relaxes as he watches your display, eventually crawling over the corpse on the ground to get closer to you. You’re now practically nose-to-nose with the mothman, dropping your empty hand by your side and using the tissue to gesture at the cut on his arm.

“Let me help.”

Mirio gives a short blink before shifting into a squatting position similar to your own, carefully extending his injured arm towards you. Doing your best to not cause him any pain, you carefully start to dab at the areas around the cut, mopping up the spilled blood as the monster watches you work.

“Y/N.” He says softly, his voice causing you to look up from your task. Mirio raises his other hand to touch the right-hand side of your face, sending a bolt of prickly pain shooting through your skull and making you wince. You’d been so caught up in the chaos and adrenaline-fueled high that you’d forgotten about your own injuries. No doubt you’ve got a sizable bruise forming from where that thug had punched you earlier. Mirio’s stiffens up at the your response, brow furrowing in concern as he quickly pulls his hand away.

“H-hurt?”

“A little…” You mumble in response, “But I’ll be alright.”

He stills for a moment and you offer him a small, pained smile, hoping to reassure him. And the next thing you know he’s moving, clutching you to his chest in a protective embrace and nuzzling his face into your neck. You squeak a little at the unexpected move, body going rigid in fear of being attacked. But soon his sweet scent and warmth fully envelop your senses, causing you to relax in his hold.

“Hurt.” He whimpers in your ear, “Y/N hurt. My fault.”

You can feel your heart clench at his words. He sounds so guilty. Helpless even. Like a child crying to their mother for comfort. Before you can think better of it, you wrap your arms around him in return, worming your hands underneath his wings to rest on his well-defined shoulder blades.

“Oh, Mirio no! It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything to hurt me.”

His body begins to shake, his breathing turning into ragged gasps as he squeezes you even more tightly. One hand leaves your back to cradle your head, the sheer size of his fingers tangling in your hair making you feel like doll-like. The two of you stay locked together like this for a few minutes, holding onto each other in the moonlight as Mirio continues to tremble beneath your touch.

“Mirio. I-” You softly breathe, causing him to raise his golden head and look you in the eye. You have so many questions for him, so many things you like to say. But all that comes out is a quiet, “Thank you.”

He cocks his handsome head to one side before a smile begins to tug at the corners of his mouth, pearly teeth reappearing as he gives a short nod of understanding.

“Mirio… keep Y/N safe.”

“Yes. Yes, you did.” You say with a weak chuckle, reaching up one hand to brush an errant strand of blonde hair away from his face. “I’m safe now.”

Mirio coos as he presses his cheek into your palm, the same way he’d done outside your apartment complex all those weeks ago. His eyes close contentedly and you can’t help but smile at his blissful expression.

“Y/N. Mine.�� He purrs.

You freeze at the bold statement, pulling your hand away and earning a disappointed mewl from Mirio.

“You said that before. Mirio, what do you mean–?”

“You there! Freeze!”

A familiar voice cuts off your question nanoseconds before a powerful flashlight is aimed directly at Mirio’s back. Even though you can’t see around his massive frame, you can tell it’s the same officer who caught you the last time Mirio visited you.

Only now, the cornered cryptid hadn’t had the chance to fly away.

“Hands where I can see them!” The officer demands, flashlight in one hand and a pistol in the other. Mirio makes no such move. Instead, he rises to his feet, hooking one arm under your thighs and taking you up with him.

“Wait! Mirio, don’t!” You shriek, desperately grabbing at his chest and mane as he turns to face the officer. It’s a terrifying sight for the poor man: three bodies strewn across a bloody alley, a blue-eyed beast, and a helpless civilian seemingly taken captive.

“D-drop the hostage!” He stammers out. “Do it, or I’ll shoot!”

You can tell from the way the light wavers that he’s shaking and you suspect the only reason he hasn’t fired his weapon yet is because he doesn’t want to risk hitting you. Your eyes flit wildly between his and Mirio’s face, finding his fangs are bared as he lets out a warning hiss.

“Y/N.” Mirio snarls, wings slowly unfurling behind him as he bends his knees and tightens his grip on you. “Mine!”

With that final declaration, Mirio gives his wings a powerful flap and kicks off from the ground. You scream as you take flight, tiny fingers digging into the solid muscle of Mirio’s chest and neck for safety. Between the sound of rushing wind and your own heartbeat jackhammering in your ears, you can barely make out the officer’s voice telling him to stop, followed by a rogue gunshot. And then there’s nothing. Nothing save for the wind in your hair and Mirio’s howl of victory as he carries you ever higher into the starry night sky.

“Stop!” You shriek, cold air stinging your battered face and forcing your eyes closed. “Put me down! Mirio, let go!”

Mirio doesn’t respond to your demands, either unable or unwilling to hear you as he sets off over the rooftops. After a few minutes of careful flying, he abruptly changes course, veering off westward and heading for the woods that ring the city limits.

“Keep Y/N safe.” Mirio says resolvedly, his voice rumbling through his chest and directly in your ear.

“Y/N… mine.”

•••••

Tags: @middevil465 @delightfully-anonymous

#bnha mothman au #mothrio #mothmanmirio #mha x reader #togata mirio x reader #mirio togata x reader #tw: blood #tw: violence #tw: attempted assault #mha #bnha

24 notes · View notes

vslattae · 3 years

Text

ALL I COULD EVER WANT

ɪᴛ ᴀʟʟ sᴛᴀʀᴛᴇᴅ ʙᴄ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴍᴇ ᴀ ᴋᴘᴏᴘ ɪᴅᴏʟ...ʙᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇᴅ ʜᴏᴡ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏғ ʜɪs ɢʀᴏᴜᴘᴍᴀᴛᴇs ᴘᴀʏᴇᴅ ᴀᴛᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ..

Paring: Taehyung x Reader

Warnings: ...tae kisses y/n but then something happens.., slight fluff, a little angst, taehyung finally isn’t a dick for a phat second,...and yeahhh new character yes.

ᴀʟʟ ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ɢᴏ ᴛᴏ ᴠsʟᴀᴛᴛᴀᴇ

UNEDITED. i just wanted to throw a curve ball :)

Chapter 3. Well now what..

———————————————————————

you’ve been in the car for a little over an hour or two...Jk took over driving while jin and haru made themselves comfortable in the middle row of jins mini van rented by the company. Which left you and Tae in the very back.

You of course were struggling to sleep and even attempting to get comfortable laying your head against the window and thinking about the messages between you and haru before you left. See...you telling taehyung your feelings is like letting him win. Sure he was heavily a dumbass but you as time flew by you noticed how much he payed attention to you..it’s like he can read your mind half of the time.

Behind all those snarky remarks and dreading the times taehyung flirted with you, it was drastically easy for everyone else to notice how much you really didn’t hate Tae.

Taehyung noticed how uncomfortable you were only because you kept mumbling and tossing and turning in your sleep. So common curiosity he carefully picked your head up off the window and placed it on his shoulder so you could peacefully fall asleep.

“thank you tae” you whispered. He was shocked that you weren’t actually sleeping yet. He of all people other than your brother and Haru knew you were a deep sleeper among everyone else. See...sometimes Taehyung wished you spent more time with him so this lovely 5-6 hour drive in the middle of the night was the closest he ever got to you.

“ of course y/n, sleep you need it” he placed his cheek on the top of your head and finally drifted to sleep too until...jungkook pulled over behind namjoons car because everyone needed a bathroom break and jimin was hungry.

The lights came on and you arose from the short nap...only to find your head on Taes lap his arm around your small petite body and of course he was still sleeping. The company must have overworked him for the last comeback.

Glancing as his sleeping figure, you finally noticed how undoubtedly attractive he was. His long lashes, soft lips that were partially opened and his soft curly brown hair that almost overflowed his face, the quiet snores that came from him. Flawless was the only word you could think of...until he woke up stretching his arms up and yawning then to look down to catch you starry eyed looking at him.

“ is there something on my face? Am I drooling?” he jolted and then in return you chuckled. “ No..i Just thought you had something in your hair” you lied smoothingly more than you had hoped.

He gave you that boxy smile as everyone hopped out to stretch there legs. “ Oh my god it’s freezing” you shivered running to the warm body that stood in front of you which just so happened to be tae. It was about 10 pm and you were close to the water so you guess that made the weather change.

Everyone walked around taking pictures of the moon and the stars but you and tae were the only ones closed in by the cars. Then that was when you knew...you promised haru that you’d tell tae how you felt and now was the time to do it. sure it seemed rushed but...if you didn’t tell him now you were probably never gonna let it out.

Focusing back on the subject and focusing your eyes on the only person around you he just stood still staring at your lips... “ Tae why are you staring at me like that” you questioned him “pretty” was the only word that came from his mouth as he walked towards you pulling you in. His lips ghosted yours like he was hesitating whether or not this was good idea but then again his lips swooped down and mashed against yours.

Magical. You swear on your life no one has ever kissed you like Tae did..he was so soft and gently barely using any tongue just him and you pushed against each other kissing gently. Until his phone rang. Disconnecting from the kiss made you a little woozy but he pulled his phone out answered the call and pressed it to his ear.

“ oh shit..” he hung up both of you spinning around to only find...Ryujii. Taehyung ex...and his first love. He was so whipped for this girl when you first met but of course she was just an occasional girl that hung out with the boys but now she was back..

Everyone now turning back to get in the cars and now seeing this girl that taehyung used to mess with. You of course told yourself that you should have known better...so as always you ran to hug your brother and stand by yoongi.

“ oh hey everyone...my uh friends left me here and like i need to a ride to the closest town.” she smiled hooking her arm around taes. “ it’s okay if we drop her off right hyung?” Tae glanced at jin and of course he nodded.

Haru noted how quiet you were. you should have been laughing and cracking jokes but you just stood there emotionless. “ Excuse me guys i think y/n is sick give me a moment” haru chuckled and pulled you away from the crowd.

“ what’s wrong what happened?” her eyes widening.. “ are you sick? or like what happened to y/n is she possessed hellooooo” she waved her hand in front of your face. “....we kissed” you spit out. “ but now haru came back and you know how she is and i can’t keeping playing this stupid game haru...i wanna be like you and jin but obviously that’s never gonna happen because guys that Tae don’t go after girls like me.” you stood there fighting the feeling not to cry.

“ y/n hold up. you guys kissed like actually kissed kissed?” Her eyes frantically scanning your face. “ yeah..( you wiped your face a little )...yeah we kissed but it meant nothing and this is stupid..i just want to get to where we’re going and have a nice time with my brother.” you managed to get out laughing a little. “ okayy...i’m gonna ask if jimin if the car is open for you to ride in there okay? I don’t wanna have to pull you out of a police car.” She laughed as you nodded.

Jungkook came looking for you and haru hoping you two didn’t get kidnapped. “ my gosh y/n...are you alright? what’s going on.” he asked tilting his head to the side. “ oh nothing y/n is gonna ride with joon and them she wants to actually sleep but you know how loud jin snores..” haru covering for you as you nodded frantically. “Jins car is weird and i usually ride with yoongi and them” you spat out walking back to the others.

“ so joon..is okay if y/n rides with you guys?” haru looked at namjoon. “ yeah yeah of course she’s gonna have to sit in between yoongi and jhope. you know how jimin is” he laughed. “ wait why isn’t y/n riding with us?” Tae asked puzzled. “ because we’re taking ryujii and there’s no room.” haru looked at tae trying so hard not to smash his face through the window.

Finally back on the road jimin and everyone else started to question you. “ so you wanna tell us the REAL reason why you decided to ride with us? I thought you and tae sorted shit out?” Jimin asked. “ hahaha that’s what i thought to until his ex girlfriend came out of nowhere. He kissed me out of nowhere and bam just my luck..shit” you covered your mouth and now everyone’s eyes were on you. You covered your face in yoongis shoulder.

“ YOU GUYS KISSED?” Jimin screamed making namjoon swerve a little he apologized and sank back down. “ yeah... i mean we all knew you had a thing for taehyung but we didn’t think it get that far after you shut him out every time.” Namjoon snickers.

“ Can you guys please not be a dick for one second..i’m going through a crisis and i’d like to throw tae out of a window god i’m so stupid.” you manage to get out but as always everyone comforted you. “y/n relax...everything is gonna be fine you know she cheated on tae and he’s never gonna go back to her.” jhope stated. “ oh but you guys don’t remember her like a month ago sneaking out at like 4 in morning?” Jimin questioned. “ what the fuck..guys i think i have to go to the hospital..i might have to get checked for stds.” you chuckled out.

“ chill taehyung clean as far as we know but anyways he kissed you? like in a rough dom kind of way orrr” jimin poked your cheek and smiled. “ ew gross no he kissed me like i was the last thing on earth and now i’m confused and like at this point i’m throwing away my feelings for tae because i obviously can’t handle this type of shit” you poked jimins cheek and pouted.

“ you’ll be fine everything is gonna clear up and you’ll have your chance with tae...hopefully” yoongi inputted. “ yes but for nowwww we’re gonna use y/n as our pillow and sleeeep night everyone” jhope layed his head on your shoulder and you layed your head on yoongis and finally drifted to sleep forgetting everything that happened in the last hour and half.

———————————————————————

an: welp. taes kind of fucked up and bam you got drama now so yay :) btw...you know that, that kiss meant everything to y/n and she’s hurt but she’s bottling it up cause she’s bad like that :) Until next chapter flowers 🌸

BTW lmk if you wanna be in the taglist :)

TAGLIST :

@hantaev @strawverryxmilktae

#taehyung smut #oop taehyung a softie?#bts taehyung #taehyung fluff #taehyung fake social media #taehyung fic #taehyung is kinda of a weird person #drama is here finally.#bts smut

46 notes · View notes

sneezefiction · 4 years

Text

falling for you

Tsukishima Kei x reader - Scenario

a/n: ok so, trying to portray fluff with Tsukki was a challenge characteristically, but i’ll be damned if i don’t try. lemme know who i should try next~ i’m open for requests :)

warnings: slight cursing, mentions blood/wounds (nothing angsty)

wc: 1680

---

Tsukishima never intended to get to know you.

He had actually been avoiding you for quite some time.

You see, you got under his skin in the most irritating ways.

It wasn’t like how he loathed Hinata or Kageyama. Or his annoyance with incredibly slow grocery clerks. It wasn’t even similar to the exhaustive irritations he experienced toward the end of a full volleyball match.

Yes, these things are problematic, but Tsukishima can handle almost any obstacle.

You see, his cold, calculated presence soaks in every detail of life for the purpose of learning how to dismantle an issue. He resassesses, maneuver, and overcomes. There’s a reason the boy is so good at blocking.

However of all the problems he could have... this one is the worst.

Previously, he had everything he possibly could, under his control.

But when you came along? Oh, he had absolutely no experience with handling this level of meddling.

Because it isn’t even your fault.

You just somehow manage to interrupt all of his patterns and sneak your way into a majority of his thoughts.

Every. Single. Day.

So it isn’t a surprise that Tsukki, a master of mental strength and strategy, would be enraged by his inability to pin down his feelings for you.

For example, last week, you accidentally bumped into his arm, stumbling a bit. Tsukki grabbed your arm before you could hit the floor, but as his hand meets your skin he feels as though he’s taken a fall of his own.

His heart fluttered.

And when you immediately turned to him, apologizing and thanking him sweetly and sincerely, his whole mind went numb.

You make him feel confused. Uncertain. And… real.

But that doesn’t mean he likes those feelings. No, he doesn’t, Tsukishima tries to convince himself.

So why is it you that he pictures your figure whenever he closes his eyes? Or that your laugh echos through his head after someone tells you a cheesy joke from across the classroom? Or how whenever you call his name, he can’t help but temper his irate disposition?

You’ve got him spinning in circles and it’s driving him wild.

Because Tsukishima doesn’t want to need anyone. Not a friend. Not A lover. And he definitely isn’t in the market for another disappointment.

However, as much as he tries to avoid you, your touch, your smile, he can’t seem to stop running into you. He can’t bury his feelings for you, as much as he wishes he could.

Even though he’s tried to find reasons to hate, laugh at, or ridicule you, he simply can’t. Because the reason you are so bothersome and so obnoxious has nothing to do with you. It has everything to do with his inability to cope with how relentlessly wonderful you are in his eyes.

---

Your walk home conveniently crosses with Tsukki’s own path and every so often he’s out of volleyball practice just in time to run into you. An increasing occurrence over the past couple of months.

Tsukishima may not realize or want to admit it, but he treasures the rare moments where he’ll walk in sync with you. His stride subconsciously copies yours, slowing him down significantly, and somehow it’s okay.

You, harboring your own feelings toward the blonde, always try to make small talk or ramble about your day, doing your best to find some type of common ground with the tall boy next to you.

He finds himself responding to you again.

He’s tried for so long to not get involved, but over the past few days, he can’t help but let his thoughts flow. You make him uncomfortably comfortable, if that’s at all possible.

His snarky comments are (currently) nonexistent. His abrasive nature, moderated.

I mean, of course he’s dripping with sarcasm, but Tsukki wouldn’t change that part of himself for anyone.

Today something seemed to have clicked between you two, likely due to Tsukishima briefly relinquishing his stubbornness and fear of connection. It’s infrequent, but with your consistency, he’s finding himself far more capable of seeing outside of his past.

As the conversation picks up speed, so do your feet. The pebbled path you walk doesn’t help you keep your footing, so you find yourself unsteady and sliding every once in a while.

Suddenly, your feet are out from under you, and similarly to the week before, you plummet to the earth.

You’re not quite as fortunate this time, because as quickly as Tsukki swoops down to catch you, your hands and knees are already covered in dirt, sand, and bits of rock. Scraped and bleeding, you do your best to calm yourself down and assess the situation… so you turn to Tsukki.

Poor boy looks so awkward, unsure of what to say, but still attempting to keep his cool demeanor.

“Are you okay?” He asks, crouching down to meet your eyes. As masked as it is, you see a flicker of concern in his expression.

He takes your hand in his, trying not to let his feelings intervene with your pain, and studies the tears in your skin.

“I- I’m okay,” You stammer, partially from the pain, but mostly from his gentle touch.

“Okay… let me see if I have anything that’ll help.” Turning toward his bag.

It aches and the grimace on your face shows just how nasty the gash on your knee really is.

He gently lets your hand down, taking out tissues from his backpack and uses one to wipe off your knee while you use another to apply pressure to your hands.

The air is very still, almost as though it chose to pause for this moment.

“Hm, the weather actually is nicer down here for you short kids. I’m envious.” Tsukki jokes, breaking the tense silence.

“Haha, very funny. Maybe if you ever fall down, I’ll actually be able to catch you, since I’m already down here.” You retort playfully.

“Okay captain sassy, whatever you say.” He shoots back, “Now how ‘bout we see if you can actually stand up.”

He offers you his hand once again, the feeling making your heart race and his face go blank.

You attempt to straighten out your legs entirely, moving a foot forward, but find yourself in extreme discomfort.

Tsukki notices and without skipping a beat, suggests,

“Well, I can… y’know, carry you?” He turns his head, the lightest dusting of pink touching his cheeks.

You, still using his hand for support, look down, your face becoming red.

“I think that may be the, uhm, best option. It hurts a lot.”

He silently stoops down, placing his arms under your knees and behind your back, making sure to not agitate the wound any further.

The walk continues in a nervous, but intimately close manner. Neither of your eyes knowing what to focus on.

So you decide to fixate on him for a moment,

“I’m sorry about all this… I should’ve watched my step.” You express, “But… I’ve really enjoyed our walk together.” You crack a warm smile.

Tsukki returns your gaze, pulse jumping slightly, his honey-brown hued irises capturing your soft (e/c) eyes,

“Yeah, dumbass. You should’ve at least remembered how big of a clutz you are.” He smirks.

“But I guess this was nice… not so much the falling part…” He takes a moment to consider his next few words, breathing a little deeper.

“But these walks, speaking with you…” He averts his gaze,

“Just you, actually, y/n.” If your blush wasn’t already apparent, it was clear now.

He’s approaching your house as he finishes his sentence, but it feels as you’re both walking through time and space. A small galaxy opening up just for the two of you.

Reality stops in moments like these, Tsukki notes.

And it doesn’t feel… bad.

It feels right. Nice, even.

Before making it up to your front door, you reach your soft hand toward Tsukishima’s forcibly stoic face.

While outwardly, he’s kept his composure, his insides are producing so many SOS signals, it’s not even funny.

You lean forward, hand resting on his jaw, and place a short kiss to his cheek.

Leaning back, you catch a look of adoration in his eyes. Something he has no idea he’s physically showing right now.

He takes this chance to capture your soft lips in a kiss.

He hasn’t really done this before, but Tsukki gets how a kiss should work.

What didn’t cross his methodical, logic-based brain was just how good it would feel. Like a cloud, back-lit by golden sunlight, or a perfect chord progression to the most touching ballad.

It’s imperfect, but it’s electric.

Your lips melded with his so well, every second melting away his icier emotions. It began to introduce him to a new reason for life and a new meaning to love.

He eventually sets you down in front of your door.

But he has your hand lightly held in his, careful not to disturb the scrapes.

A huge grin spreads through your face, eyes lit up.

And he now knows why he can’t stop thinking about you. You really are a necessary part of his life. Worthy of breaking routines. Special enough to stop his flow and grumpily facetime you. Important enough to reshape himself to account for your existence.

With this final realization, Tsukki goes to his next line of action.

“So, are you free Friday?” He inquires.

“Actually, yeah! Can we go see that new dinosaur movie? I’m kind of obsessed with it.”

“Well, damn. This is gonna be even better than I expected.” He smirks, leaving you confused, but smiling at his response.

No, he wasn’t going to tell you about his discoveries from that day.

At least not in great detail.

But, thanks to this… to you, Tsukishima is learning to open himself up again. To take chances on himself and others. A process that is never too early to begin.

All it took was helping you back onto your feet to get you into his arms.

Something that both literally and relationally makes a whole lot of sense for some reason, Tsukki concludes.

#lmao my titles are so cheesy #the fic isn't tho #just fluffy and sweet #tsukishima #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei #haikyuu!!#haikyu #haikyuu fluff #tsukishima fluff #hq fanfic #hq #hq imagines #hq scenarios #tsukishima scenarios #tsukishima oneshot #tsukki #sneezefiction

359 notes · View notes

imjustthemechanic · 4 years

Text

A Romantic Night at the Museum

Happy valentine’s day to @tytythepilot, who wanted a Pepperony HSAU in which they start out hating each other!

💘 - 💝 - 💌 - 💝 - 💘

It was a requirement for graduation: every senior at Triskelion High had to do thirty hours of volunteer work at one of a number of school-approved venues. It was a duty a lot of students complained about, but Pepper Potts had known right away which she would choose. There was a soup kitchen, a retirement home, a recycling centre, the humane society, and a few other places, but on sign-up day her eyes had gone right to the bottom of the list: the Empire State Museum of Modern Art.

It seemed ideal. Pepper was planning to major in accounting, but she was interested in art and art history, and enjoyed visiting the ESMMA. She was already familiar with all their permanent exhibits, so she probably wouldn’t even need an orientation. The people who worked there would doubtless be impressed with her dedication. When she put her name on the list, she did notice that nobody else had chosen the museum yet, but since she was one of the first to choose a venue, she didn’t think much of it.

On November first, Mr. Coulson the history teacher called the seniors down to the gymnasium to get the permission paperwork for their assignments, and to hand out the lanyards and tags where they would log their hours. Pepper set impatiently in the folding metal chair while the various venues were called out. Red lanyards for the humane society were popular, as were green ones for the recycling centre. By the time he got close to the bottom, there didn’t seem to be very many people without lanyards, and Pepper was starting to wonder if there would be anybody else volunteering at the museum at all.

As it turned out, there was one other.

“Finally, for the ESMMA,” Mr. Coulson read out at last, “Potts, Virginia, and Stark, Anthony.”

Pepper bounced to her feet and looked around, blinking in surprise. Tony Stark? She knew he went to Triskelion High School – who didn’t? – but so far she’d only ever glimpsed him from afar. From the gossip that surrounded him she knew he was the son of a wealthy and powerful businessmen, that he’d dated most of the cheerleaders but couldn’t remember their names, and that his picture had been on the front of the October issue of the Triskelion Shield newsletter because he’d won some sort of state science prize. He wanted to work at the museum?

She didn’t see anybody else standing up, though. The other students were all chatting together and comparing lanyards… maybe Stark wasn’t here today? Pepper grabbed her canvas backpack, covered in pins and buttons for various causes she supported, and hurried to the front. Mr. Coulson was waiting at the bottom of the stage, holding out the orange lanyard for her.

“There’s nobody else for the museum?” she asked.

“Word gets around,” he replied, ticking her off on his list. “You and Stark were the only two who signed up.”

“Great.” Pepper hung the lanyard around her neck with a grimace. “I get to babysit the rich kid all by myself.” From what little she knew of Stark, she had no illusions that he would do anything during their volunteer time. As far as Pepper had ever been able to tell, he didn’t even do anything in his classes – she’d seen him sleeping in Ms. Hill’s Calculus course. He probably paid somebody to take his exams for him.

“Depends on where the museum needs you,” Mr. Coulson said. “You might not even see him.”

“God, I hope not!” Pepper snorted, and turned around… only to find herself face-to-face with a boy. He was about her own height, with unkept dark brown hair that needed trimming and brown eyes, and wearing an expensive-looking blazer over a Pink Floyd T-shirt. She recognized him immediately, of course. It was Tony Stark, in the flesh.

The colour drained from Pepper’s face. How much had he heard?

“At least the babysitter’s cute,” he said.

That answered her question – he’d heard all of it. Pepper stepped past him and walked away as fast as she could, shaking. Now she was in for it. The whole school knew everything Stark said and did… it would be a miracle if they weren’t all talking about her by this time tomorrow. And she was going to be stuck with this guy at the museum for two hours a week, the rest of the semester! Maybe she could catch pneumonia or something and be excused from the rest of the school year.

Her friend Betty was waiting for her at the gym exit, wearing the red humane society lanyard. “You’re going to be volunteering with Tony Stark?” she asked.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Pepper informed her, and kept going.

💘 - 💝 - 💌 - 💝 - 💘

Tony watched the girl disappear in a huff of ginger hair and oversized sweater, then turned to Coulson for his own lanyard and badge. “What crawled up her butt?” he asked. There were lots of girls in school who didn’t like Tony – there were lots of girls outside school who didn’t like him – but most of them at least knew him. As far as he could remember, Tony had never spoken to that one before.

“I don’t think she believes you know anything about art,” said Mr. Coulson.

“Yeah?” Tony asked.

The truth was, he didn’t really. Tony’s parents were patrons of the ESMMA, along with several other museums in the city, so he’d figured the employees there would be nice to him – but he wasn’t into art for its own sake. Tony preferred things that could be quantified and figured out, while art, particularly modern art, was the exact opposite of that. He’d signed up on the assumption that the museum would give him flash cards or something so he could lead tours and answer questions. He could memorize things like that in a few seconds and be fine. Now, however, he’d been given a challenge. Who was this girl to judge him when she’d never even met him properly.

“Well,” he said, “she’s gonna find out how wrong she is.”

That evening, Tony sat down in front of his computer – he’d built it himself, out of parts of several others – and pulled up the museum’s website. With a can of Red Bull at one elbow and a package of pretzels at the other he sat up almost until dawn, going through the online collection and reading about artists, movements, and styles. Tony could handle being called a lot of things but nobody was going to think he was dumb.

By Friday afternoon, after a couple of additional trips to both the public and museum libraries, he felt he was more than ready. He’d even dug out an old ESMMA t-shirt he’d gotten for free at one of Mom’s fundraisers, and was wearing that and his lanyard as he leaned against one of the metal pillars outside the museum entrance. The museum wasn’t expecting them until four, but there was no way Tony was letting the girl be earlier than he was.

It worked, too – he’d been waiting nearly fifteen minutes when she finally got off the bus. Her long ginger hair was in two braids, and her slender figure was absolutely lost under an enormous camo-green cardigan. Tony was gratified to see her surprised to find him there.

“Afternoon,” he said.

“Hi,” she replied warily.

Tony smiled at her. “What’s your favourite piece in the ESMMA collection?” he asked, as if making polite conversation. “I’m partial to Csaky. Picasso’s a little too abstract for my tastes.”

She frowned for a moment, then shrugged one shoulder. “I’ve never thought about it. Probably the Water Lillies.”

“Monet, cool,” Tony nodded. “Nobody else I asked at school had signed up for the museum. It’s good to know there’s somebody else around who’s got some taste. What do you think of Monet’s red paintings? Are they artistically interesting, or just medically?”

The girl began to smile. “They can be both,” she said. “With impressionists it was all about how they saw the world, right? It was their impression. Both Monet’s cataracts and the removal of them affected that, so it should be reflected in his art.”

Tony had expected her to be squirming by now, having realized she was wrong about him, but that didn’t seem to be the case. He tried to go a little deeper. “What do you think of the idea that after his surgery he could see into the ultraviolet?” he asked.

“I hadn’t heard that before,” she replied. For a moment Tony felt triumphant, but then she continued on, apparently oblivious to the fact that he’d just shown he knew more about impressionists than she did. “I wonder what effect that would have… could we even see it?”

Tony was about to cite a Journal of Art History paper he’d read on the subject, but then one of the big glass doors opened and a man in a blue shirt and white tie, wearing an ESMMA nametag that identified him, appropriately enough, as Art, looked out at him. “Are you two the kids from Triskelion?” he asked.

“Yes,” the girl said, reaching to took the guy’s hand. “I’m Virginia – people call me Pepper.”

“And I’m Tony,” he stepped up to do the same.

“Oh, I know who you are,” said Art, and shook Tony’s hand with enthusiasm. “I’ve seen you here with your folks. Come on in! We’re always happy to have kids from the school.” He held the door open for them. “We look forward to it all year.”

“I’ve been looking forward to it, myself,” said Pepper. “I’ve been to the museum quite often, and I know the layout pretty well.”

“And I can identify every piece in the place!” Tony bragged, not to be outdone as the followed Art inside. The foyer of the building was spacious, with high ceilings, white walls, and abstract-shaped red couches. “That one behind the admissions counter, for example, that’s Matisse’s Two Masks.” He snickered. “The one that looks like a mantis shrimp wearing cool sunglasses.”

Pepper looked at him as if he’d just sprouted a second head, but didn’t say anything.

“Man, it kinda does, doesn’t it?” said Art, grinning. “Great, now I’ll never unsee that! Right this way.” He led them to a door marked staff only, and touched his employee ID card to a panel to unlock it. The inner side had a complicated push-bar arrangement on it, the sort that would probably set off an alarm if somebody tried to open it without permission.

“Ohhh… are we gonna be working in the off-view collections?” Pepper asked in a reverent voice.

“Sort of,” said Art.

They went down the stairs to the basement level, and through a maze of rooms full of shelves and boxes and things carefully stored in glass cases, to a door with no special signs or locks on it, just an ordinary lever handle. Beyond that was a little room with one tiny, dingy window way high up in the wall, looking out on a parking lot, and a lot of metal shelves stacked high with what appeared to be garbage. There were cardboard boxes full of paper, trash bags bulging with heaven knew what, stacks of old magazines, packages of unopened paper plates and plastic forks. Tony frowned as he looked around. He hadn’t seen anything like this on the website?

“Is this art?” he asked.

“This is our surplus from last year,” Art replied. “Menus and leaflets and merch. We need you guys to sort it out – what we can still sell, what we can recycle, what we can donate, and so forth. We save it all year so you kids will have something to do.” He looked so proud of himself, as if he were expecting them to be excited about this.

Tony glanced at Pepper. Her mouth was open in astonishment.

“The café and vending machines will give you sodas and snacks at half price with your lanyards,” Art said cheerfully. “If you need anything, you can call somebody there.” He pointed to a set of buttons below a speaker on the wall. “See you at six!” And he walked out, whistling.

Pepper’s backpack fell out of her hands and landed on the floor. “Word gets around,” she said aloud. “Nobody told me.”

The look on her face and the mournful tone of her voice would have been full as hell if Tony hadn’t been feeling pretty betrayed, himself. “This is bullshit,” he declared. His parents had donated thousands of dollars to the ESMMA over the years. He’d studied for this, and they thought all he was good for was sorting garbage? “I’m going to call my Mom,” he said darkly.

💘 - 💝 - 💌 - 💝 - 💘

Pepper felt like the bottom had dropped out of her stomach and all her insides had gone splat on the gritty concrete floor. She’d been looking forward to this for a month, as a chance to work in the stimulating environment of the museum, enjoying art and helping other people enjoy it, too. Now it turned out they expected her to spend the whole time shut in the basement? No wonder nobody else signed u for the museum! Why hadn’t she asked around? Clearly somebody was telling the seniors to avoid the assignment!

It was Stark’s statement that snapped her out of her moment of shock. Pepper had kept her head down the last few days at school, waiting for the ridicule to start, but it never had. It seemed like nobody had overheard the exchange, and Stark must not have told anyone about it. She’d begun to hope that he just wanted to forget about it, too. Her hopes had risen even further when he’d actually seemed to want to talk about the museum and the collection, and when she’d noticed his parents’ names on the big granite slab in the lobby floor. Maybe they were going to get along after all…

Now it was clear after all that he really was just a spoiled jerk. He was here because he thought his family’s involvement would get him special treatment and he was pissed because it wouldn’t. Well, maybe it would do him good to live in the real world for two hours a week.

“Is that what you do every time you don’t get what you want?” she demanded. “Go crying to Mommy and have her fix it for you?”

Stark scowled at her. “Oh, and I guess you’re totally fine with it? You were geeking out a minute ago!”

“I am not fine with it!” Pepper informed him. “I am bitterly disappointed, but some of us don’t have rich parents who can make sure we get our way!” She looked around again at the room’s ill-organized contents, then picked up her backpack and set it on a chair. The sleeves of her cardigan wouldn’t stay up, but she made a show of rolling them anyway before she dug into the first box of magazines.

“What are you doing?” asked Stark.

“I’m doing what I was told to do!” she snarled. “Because I need the credit to graduate, and unlike some people I can’t just nap through all my classes and bribe the school to pass me anyway!”

For a moment Stark just stood there as if she’d slapped him. Then he drew himself up to his full height, which was not impressive when he wasn’t any taller than Pepper, and demanded, “what is your problem? I never even met you until the other day, and you already hated me! You honestly think I can’t do this?” He gestured to the piles of junk.

“I think you won’t,” Pepper replied primly. “I mean, look at you – you’re just standing there! Your parents are so rich you’ve probably never had to do anything in your entire life! I bet your Dad pays off the teachers to give you good marks!”

“I get good marks all by myself!” Stark huffed. “I happen to be a genius!”

If that were supposed to make her think more highly of him, it failed miserably. Pepper threw a magazine at him. “You’re an egotistical twit!” she said. “If you can work, prove it!”

“Maybe I will!” he said. He stood there a moment longer, looking around, and Pepper wondered if he would refuse after all, out of sheer spite. But then he grabbed a box of merchandise from a now-defunct special exhibit on Lichtenstein and started sorting them, rather violently.

Pepper smirked. At least she’d gotten him to participate.

“You’ve got no right to pass judgment on me when you don’t know me,” Stark said after a while.

“Maybe you shouldn’t worry so much about what other people think of you,” Pepper retorted. She opened a second box, and found it was full of old calendars. The guy named Art had said they saved things all year for the Triskelion volunteers, but these were fully three years old. Whoever had been conned into doing this in the mean time couldn’t have been very thorough.

“I don’t care what other people think of me,” Stark said. He was stacking souvenir water bottles into two pyramids, one of bottles that had last year’s date on them, and one that did not.

“Obviously you do, or you wouldn’t be mad at me for not liking you,” Pepper pointed out.

She looked around at the mess, and felt her jaw muscles tighten. ��This was clearly a job that desperately needed doing and, just as obviously, nobody wanted to do it. The museum staff didn’t want to deal with it, so they left it for the students. The students didn’t want to deal with it, so they didn’t sign up for the volunteer work. Pepper certainly didn’t want to do it… but that in itself awakened a weird form of rebellion in her. Fine, then. She would do it, and she would do a spectacular job, so that nobody else could ever do half as well! She dumped the calendars back in their box, and got out a marker to write the word recycle on the side.

“I’m not mad,” said Stark. “I couldn’t care less if you like me or not. I’m just saying you have no right to an opinion.”

“Of course I do,” Pepper said, “and you’re not making me like you any better by whining about it!” She grabbed another box.

“Maybe I don’t like you, either,” he retorted.

“Good thing I actually don’t care what you think of me,” sniffed Pepper. After their interactions so far, she would have been disappointed if he didn’t hate her. The last thing she wanted was to appeal to a spoiled brat like Stark! She looked over her shoulder at his pyramids. “What are you doing with those?”

“Seeing how high I can stack them,” he replied.

“We’re not here to play,” Pepper informed him. The next box contained multicoloured stress balls. For a moment she wrestled with temptation, then she threw one at Stark’s bottles, as if they were a setup pin a carnival game. They wobbled, then crashed down.

“Hey!” he protested.

“We’re here to work,” she told him.

💘 - 💝 - 💌 - 💝 - 💘

That interaction seemed to have set the tone for the entire evening, Tony observed. This girl was absolutely determined to do the job they’d given her, even though it was a stupid rip-off of a job, and if Tony hadn’t been so determined to hate her back he would have found it kind of admirable. If she had that kind of work ethic in her classes she might well end up valedictorian… and since the school was in the habit of choosing one valedictorian of each sex, that meant Tony might find himself sharing a stage with her in June. That sounded like a disaster waiting to happen.

Art had promised to let them out at six. He’d also told them they were welcome to go for snacks or bathroom breaks, but Pepper – why was she called that? Because of her freckles, maybe? She certainly was peppered with those – didn’t stop. Tony was getting hungry and cranky, but he didn’t stop, either. Pepper had thought he’d know nothing abut art and he’d proven her wrong. Now she thought he wasn’t willing to work hard, so he was going to prove her wrong on that, too.

Six o’clock came and went. Upstairs the museum was probably closing up, and Art would arrive any minutes. Pepper kept at it, though, tossing vaguely cubist plush animals around like she planned to do it all night, using her phone as a flashlight to peer into dark corners of the room looking for more. Tony wondered if he ought to say something, but if he did, she might think he was being lazy and he wasn’t going to let her have that. He continued taking bundles of pamphlets out of their elastic bands and dumping them in the ‘recycle’ box as his watched ticked past six thirty and approached seven.

Then the lights went out.

For a moment the two of them just stood there in the dark, blinking. A little bit of light came in through that high-up window, but it wasn’t really enough to see by. After a few seconds, Pepper turned her phone flashlight back on, which made Tony yelp as she shone it directly in his face.

“Hey!” he protested.

“Sorry!” She quickly moved it. “Did you do that?”

“What?” asked Tony. “Turn the lights off? Why would I do that! They probably went off because it’s way past six and the museum is closed.” He went and moved a box so he could stand on it and look out the window.

Pepper stared at him, then looked at her phone screen. “Why didn’t you say something?” she asked.

“Because you would have gone aww, is the little rich boy tired?” Sure enough, there was nobody moving out in the courtyard. The café tables had been put away, and he thought he could make out somebody on the opposite side locking a door.

“So you do care what I think of you,” she said, but didn’t seem interested in arguing the point. As Tony opened his mouth to reply, she turned away and shone the light around the room. “Which way to the stairs?”

“This way.” Tony hopped down from his box and turned on his own phone for extra light. A fat lot of good it had done him, he thought, to memorize those museum maps. None of them had included the basement! But by the light of the LEDs the two young people managed to wind their way through the maze of rooms.

“Oh, Jesus!” Pepper exclaimed, grabbing Tony’s arm.

“What?” he turned around, and nearly jumped out of his own skin as he saw what looked like a winged, humanoid figure looming over them. Then he realized what he was looking at was the shadow of a sculpture in dark stone, projected on the wall and ceiling by the light, and recognized it from the website catalogue – at least that had done him some good. “That’s Csaky’s Messenger,” he said. A black granite cubist angel.

“I knew that,” said Pepper, relaxing her grip.

“No, you didn’t,” he teased. “What did you think it was, Mothman?”

“Shut up and let’s get out of here,” she said. “This place is creepy in the dark.”

It had been kind of creepy in the daytime, Tony thought, with all the old sculptures covered in sheets and so forth. When he moved his own light around the room the shadows seemed to come to life, and it did make the statues look terrifyingly animated. He tried not to think about that as they continued to the stairs.

It was an effort not to cheer when they finally sighted the red EXIT sign. Tony took the stairs two at a time and pushed on the bar handle, not really caring if it set off an alarm. It did not – in fact, the only sound was a dull clunk, and the door did not move.

Tony tried again, wondering if he’d simply pushed it too hard. He got the same result.

“Now what?” asked Pepper.

“It’s locked,” he said.

“What?”

“Don’t panic, it’s not like we’re gonna run out of air or anything,” said Tony, rolling his eyes. “It’s just a locked door.”

“Yes, but that means we’re stuck in here!” she protested.

“It’s not like the museum’s empty!” Tony put his shoulder against the door to rattle it. “Hey! Hey, we’re locked in!” he shouted.

“Help!” Pepper chimed in. “Anybody out there? Help!”

They continued shouting for a few minutes, but it got no reply. If anybody were out there, they couldn’t hear them – or they were just ignoring the cries.

“Why didn’t that guy come back to tell us it was time to go?” Pepper wailed.

Tony very much wanted to know that, himself. “I guess he forgot about us.” He rattled the door one last time and waited a moment, but there was still no response.

She grabbed his arm again. “You can call your parents!”

Tony pulled free of her grip. “Oh, now who wants to call my rich parents to fix everything?” he couldn’t resist saying.

She narrowed her eyes. “That was a tantrum. This is an emergency. I’m sorry I made fun of you, okay? Please call them.”

The apology was startling, but it didn’t change one important fact. “I can’t,” Tony said. “Or if I did, it wouldn’t do any good. They’re in Vienna this week.” He scowled.

The light on Pepper’s phone shut off with an unhappy buzzing sound, but by the light of his own Tony could see that she looked disappointed. “So you were just ranting when you said you were gonna have your Mom yell at the museum people?”

“No, I was gonna talk to her, it’s just that it’ll probably take ages for her to do anything about it, because she’s out of the country and she doesn’t like staying up all night to make phone calls,” Tony grumbled. “Why don’t you call your parents? At least they live here in town.”

Pepper nodded and looked down at her phone, then swallowed when she saw the screen. “Uh… actually, I don’t think I can. I’ve had the flashlight on too long and the battery is dead.”

He reached into his pocket. “You can use mine. You know their numbers, right?”

“No,” she admitted, squirming a bit. “We haven’t had a land line since I was twelve. I’ve always had their numbers in my phone.”

“Well, that’s just great!” Tony kicked the door and then went to sit down on the top step. “So what do we do, just sit here all night?”

“You said you were a genius! Can’t you figure something out?” she asked.

Tony huffed. There she was again, thinking he was dumb. He knew that she was doing it on purpose, and that if he kept reacting the way she wanted, she would quickly come to decide that she could make him do anything she wanted by saying she thought he couldn’t or wouldn’t… but at the same time, he couldn’t let her think she was right. He thought back to the museum maps he’d looked at… this stairwell hadn’t been marked on any of them, which meant the public wasn’t supposed to use them. All the exits probably locked the same way. What he needed was a way to pick the lock, which was going to be difficult when it was inside the bar apparatus.

“Well?” Pepper asked.

“Shut up. I’m thinking.” Tony turned and directed the light from his phone onto the bar. There were some screws that would be easy to take out, but they were in the push panel at the hinge end of the door… he’d need to reach inside somehow. “Okay,” he said, standing up again. “There’s gotta be some tools in that basement, right? I need a screwdriver.”

“Is this a good idea?” asked Pepper.

“I won the Pym Prize for Robotics last month!” Tony reminded her. “My picture was on the cover of the school newspaper, and you don’t trust me with a screwdriver?”

She threw up her hands. “Okay, okay! Do your genius thing!”

Tony checked the battery on his own phone. With the flashlight on it was draining fast. If they didn’t want to be in here with no light but the EXIT signs, he was going to have to find another source of illumination. “And a proper flashlight,” he decided.

“That’s the smartest thing you’ve said all evening,” said Pepper, and followed him down the steps.

💘 - 💝 - 💌 - 💝 - 💘

Pepper realized she was being mean and snappish, but she couldn’t help it. How was she supposed to feel when they were locked in a basement? They couldn’t just stay here all night. What about dinner? Her stomach was already growling. She’d been ignoring it earlier because she had wanted to show that she was willing to work. Where would they sleep? There was nothing soft down here to lie on. And good lord, what was going to happen when one of them needed to pee?

All that nervous energy had to go somewhere and the only possible target was Stark – and he was doubly convenient in that capacity because this was his fault. He’d noticed the time passing while she had not. He couldn’t have said something. If he’d spoken up, they could have decided it was time to go and done so, but he hadn’t, the staff had forgotten about them, and now they were stuck down here!

Back at the bottom of the stairs, Stark located a janitor’s closet. This seemed a good place to start looking for emergency supplies – there was a first aid kit and a fire extinguisher hanging on the wall, and on a shelf above them he found a utility flashlight. He gave the latter to Pepper, and had her hold it while he rooted around inside a cupboard, looking for something else.

“What are you doing now?” she asked.

“I’m looking for tools,” he replied. “A screwdriver. A hammer. Something. I’m gonna take the door apart and open the lock from the inside… and don’t ask me if I can do that,” he added, pulling his head out of the cupboard to look straight at her. “I told you, I’m a genius. I can figure it out.”

Pepper sniffed. She would wait and see how he did at getting them out of the basement, but she knew one thing for certain. “You may be a genius, but talking about it all the time still makes you sound like a jerk. Why do you care so much that people know how smart you are?”

“Because it’s important!” said Tony, going back to his rooting around. “Fine, I admit it: yes, I want people to know I’m smart, okay? I’m proud of it. Why shouldn’t I be?”

“It’s fine to be proud, but if you go around talking about it, you’re bragging,” Pepper said to his butt, which was the only part of him she could see. “What happened to humility?”

“False humility is just another kind of lying,” he said.

“It’s polite,” Pepper insisted. “You don’t see me go around bragging. I could be standing here going, oh, they gave me this job because nobody else wants to do it so I’m going to be awesome at it just to show them.”

This time, he actually wiggled back out of the cupboard and sat up, frowning at her in evident confusion. “Is that really what you’re proudest of?” he asked. “That you’re willing to do crappy jobs?”

“I’m willing to do them well,” Pepper clarified. “The people who left all those three-year-old calendars in the box sure didn’t do a very good job of it. Just because nobody wants to do something doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it properly. I’m a Hufflepuff,” she said firmly. “I believe in doing things right.”

“Yeah, but that seems like a weird thing to brag about,” he insisted.

“I just said I don’t brag about it,” huffed Pepper.

“No, I mean, it’s a weird example of a thing you might brag about,” Stark said. “Most people would say something like, I’m good at math, or I can beat a new video game faster than anybody I know, or I’ve won prizes for my robots. Your thing is doing terrible jobs?”

His mention to the robotics prize made Pepper wonder if all three of his examples were things he personally considered himself amazing at. “No, they wouldn’t say that, because most people don’t go around bragging.”

“If you asked them,” Stark said, frowning in frustration. “If you go up to somebody and ask them what are you best at they’ll always tell you something! Like, my friend Rhodey is really good at building model airplanes. He’ll tell you all about how he changed them to be more accurate than they were on the box. Or there’s Janet from my physics class who’s really good at her fashion Instagram. What’s your ‘thing’?”

Pepper winced, wishing now she’d never spoken. Everybody had a ‘thing’, didn’t they? Something they were really into. With Jane it was astronomy – everyone knew she’d been accepted to Culver for astrophysics and she could take you out on a dark night and show you three planets, nine constellations, and tell you about how people could figure out the date of supernovas from tree rings. Pepper never understood half of what she said. With Natasha it was ballet and gymnastics, and the phys. ed teachers said she’d probably be in the Olympics someday. Pepper was madly jealous of both of them for having something they were so good at and so passionate about… because she didn’t.

She was silent for a moment – and her very hesitation must have told Stark all he needed to know. “Oh, come on, you must be good at something,” he said. “How about art?”

Pepper shrugged awkwardly. “I like art, but I can’t do it. I took art in freshman year but I wasn’t any good at it. I never felt inspired. I’m more interested in the history than in actually doing it, but that’s not really… not really something you can make a career out of. I guess I could be a museum curator, but…” She looked around the dark room, with that unsettling statue still looming in a corner of it. “A museum doesn’t sound like a great place to work right now.”

“I hear that,” Stark grumbled.

“I’m gonna do accounting in college,” she went on, “because I’ll be able to get a good job that way. I get decent grades in math, but they’re not any better than the grades I get in anything else. My Dad was always one of those if you put your mind to it you can do anything people, and he’s right, because I can do a lot of things well but there’s not really anything I’d say I’m good at.”

Pepper stopped there, because… why had she told him that? It wasn’t something she ever discussed, even with her friends or family. They wouldn’t understand. All of them had a ‘thing’, but Pepper was just… Pepper. She worked hard because if she couldn’t be good at something, she wanted to be decent at as many things as she could. Jill of all trades, mistress of none.

Stark was looking at her like he didn’t know what she was talking about. He probably didn’t. If he was so damn smart, he was probably good at everything and couldn’t imagine what mediocrity was possibly like. What would he know about insecurity?

“Look, just find your tools and get us out of here,” said Pepper.

He crawled back into the cupboard, while she knelt down to shine the flashlight over his shoulder. After a minute or two of sorting around amid cleaning supplies and a set of wrenches, he sat up triumphantly. “Aha!” he exclaimed, holding high a beat-up screwdriver with an orange handle.

“Finally!” said Pepper. “Let’s go!”

They returned to the main floor and Pepper continued to hold the flashlight while Stark knelt down to turn the screws. He tried for a few moments, then stopped and muttered a bad word under his breath.

“Now what’s wrong?” Pepper asked. She could feel her stomach sinking again.

“It’s a Phillips,” said Stark.

“What’s that?” Pepper wanted to know.

“It’s a Phillips head screwdriver!” He pointed it at her like a magic wand. “The screws are all flat heads!”

“Can’t you still use it?” she asked. Pepper admittedly knew very little about tools but she had assembled furniture with her parents, and she was sure her father had once said she could still use a particular screwdriver even if it was the wrong shape.

Stark appeared to disagree – he tossed the screwdriver back down the stairs, and she could hear it clink as it bounced off the concrete steps. “No. You could use a flat head screwdriver in a Phillips screw, but not the other way around.”

“The Phillips… is that the one with the plus, and the flat head is the one with the minus?” she asked.

“Yeah.” Stark sat there for a moment, then examined the screws again. “You got a dime?”

“Nobody carries cash in New York,” Pepper scoffed. She thought for a moment, herself, and then unzipped her backpack and started sorting through it, looking for her keys. “Here!” She pulled them out. “I have nail clippers on my keychain!”

“So what?” he asked, annoyed.

“So they have a flat end!” She took them off the loop and lifted the lever to show him. “Will that fit in the screws?”

Stark blinked, then snatched them out of her hand, grinning. “You’re a genius!” he said, and turned around to start removing screws.

“Oh, like you?” she asked, eyebrows raised.

“Maybe not quite like me,” he said, but he glanced back over his shoulder to smile at her, and something inside Pepper gave an involuntarily little flutter. Stark was clearly joking, but when he’d said you’re a genius, it had sounded so sincere and spontaneous she couldn’t help but think he meant it.

“There we go!” Stark dropped one screw on the floor, then removed another, and took the entire bar off the door. “Shine the light in here, would you?”

Pepper directed the beam over his shoulder, while he first peered in and then reached to feel around. For a moment he frowned, and Pepper started getting worried again, but this time he seemed to figure out a solution quickly.

“Another equipment run!” he declared. “I know I saw wire cutters in there… I need a coat hanger. I’m gonna snip a length of it so I can manipulate the lock from the inside.”

“There were coat hangers in the junk room!” said Pepper. “They had a box of souvenir sweatshirts that were already on them inside the plastic!”

She pulled open one such packet, and Stark cut himself a length of wire about six inches long. Pepper was starting to feel quite pleased with their collective problem-solving abilities. Stark could find, or at least make, whatever tools they needed, and Pepper had a good memory and could tell him where to find things. When they returned to the door, Stark stuck his makeshift lock pick into it, his hand disappearing into the bar mechanism right up to the wrist, and within a few second there was a clunking sound, and the door creaked open. The light that flooded in was faint, just the evening glow of the city and the fading November sky reflecting off the white walls and tile floors of the lobby, but Pepper was so happy to see it, she almost cried.

“Ta-da!” said Stark proudly. There was a clink from inside the bar as he dropped the piece of wire. “There we… ow!” he exclaimed, and quickly yanked his arm out… or tried to. Something clearly went wrong, because he stopped short and howled!

Pepper almost dropped the flashlight. What? What happened?” she asked. Her imagination offered up horrible possibilities. Maybe there was a mouse or a spider or something in there. Maybe he was going to need her to suck the venom out. Maybe she wouldn’t be able to do it, and she would be known as the girl who let Tony Stark die…

“I’m stuck! I’m caught on…” he gritted his teeth and swore again. “I’m caught on… I think I stabbed myself.”

Pepper felt herself go cold. She set the flashlight down on the floor so that its beam would still illuminate him. “Okay, well, don’t panic,” she said.

“Don’t panic? You’re the one who screamed because you thought the statue was Mothman!” he pointed out.

“Only for a moment! When you’re hurt,” she explained, “you shouldn’t panic because it’ll only make you freak out and do more damage. Now, take a deep breath.”

He breathed in, hard.

“Let it out,” said Pepper.

It came out in a woosh.

“Now tell me what happened.”

Stark grimaced in pain. “I dropped the coat hanger wire,” he said, “and I think it got caught on something. When I tried to pull my arm out it poked me, and when I tried to yank it out fast it went in really deep and I think I’m actually sort of impaled right now.”

In the dim light, Pepper couldn’t see his face very well, but he sounded like he was on the verge of passing out. She thought fast – if he did that, he would go limp, and the weight of his body would pull on that arm, and if what he’d just said was accurate, that could make things much worse.

“Okay,” she said. “Can you back your arm up so it comes out?”

He tried. “I don’t think so. The bar isn’t long enough.” Stark looked at her hands, held up in front of her as she tried to reassure him. “You’ve got small hands. You think you can reach in there and move it?”

“I’ll try,” said Pepper. She took off her cardigan and examined the situation… how would she do this? Stark was right up against the door and couldn’t exactly move over to give her space. She was going to have to practically sit in his lap. “Don’t get any ideas,” she said, moving into place.

He snorted. “I’ve got my arm stuck in a door! Getting ideas is about the last thing on my mind.”

She settled down, sitting on his knee, and wiggled her fingers in around his arm. Immediately she felt something wet and sticky. She pulled her hand back and held it in the flashlight beam, and was horrified to see the red on her fingers. “Oohhh,” she said.

“What?” Stark looked over her shoulder. “Oh, no. You’re not gonna faint, are you?”

“I don’t know if I’m the best person to do this,” said Pepper. She almost stuck the fingers in her mouth, but that wasn’t a good idea when it wasn’t her blood. She couldn’t wipe it on her clothes, either, it might stain. How much more blood would there be if she managed to pull the wire out?

“There’s nobody else here!” he protested. “That’s the whole problem, remember?”

“Yeah, but…” Pepper said helplessly, and stopped there because he was right. It was just him and her. Like sorting the garbage downstairs, it was a terrible job but nobody else was going to do it. It was up to Pepper.

“Right.” She tried to wipe her fingers on the floor, which didn’t work very well, then took a deep breath and tried again. Stark’s chin was on her shoulder watching as she stuck her fingers in between his flesh and the edge of the opening, feeling around for the problem. She could follow the piece of wire for about two and a half inches, the length of her thumb and index finger, and then had to stop. There just wasn’t room to fit the rest of her hand inside and go any further.

“Don’t tug on it,” said Stark weakly. “It’s definitely under the skin.”

“That’s so disgusting,” she whimpered. The blood had been pretty awful, but she could handle it. The phrase under the skin, however, was horrible. Pepper hated things like needles and IV lines.

“Can you get it out?” he asked.

“No,” was Pepper’s immediate reply. “That’s as far as my fingers will go. I’m gonna see if I can find the other end.” She felt her way back, trying to ignore the feeling of warm, damp blood between her fingers. The other end of the bit of coat hanger turned out to be stuck under a lip of metal at the edge of the piece next to the one Stark had removed. She tried to pick at it with her fingernails, to no effect. “I can’t. It’s stuck.”

Pepper wanted to pull her hand back, but realized if she did, it might be covered with blood. For a moment, she didn’t move.

“Okay,” Stark said in her ear. “If pulling it out won’t work, can we push it a little further in?”

“What?” Pepper asked. “No, I’m not going to do that! I wouldn’t do it even if I could!”

“I didn’t mean into my arm, I meant into the space!” said Stark. “I’ll push my arm in as far as I can, and you see if you can get the other end loose and hold it there so I can get out without it getting stuck again, okay?”

“I can’t do that!” she insisted. “What if it pierces something major and you bleed to death?” There was already enough blood on her. The idea of more made her feel ill.

“You won’t if you’re careful,” he said. “Even if you do, I don’t think there’s any major blood vessels in that part of an arm.”

“You don’t think there are? You mean you don’t know if there are? I thought you were a genius!”

“That doesn’t make me an encyclopedia!” he protested. “Being smart doesn’t mean I know everything. Intelligence is a stat – knowledge is a skill! You have to roll a check for it!”

“What?” Pepper asked. The statement made no sense whatsoever for the first few moments, until she realized what he was talking about. “Is… was that a Dungeons and Dragons joke?” His arm was impaled on part of a metal coat hanger, and he was joking?

“Yes! I’m trying to distract us,” Stark said. “Just do it, okay? Stop thinking about it. The faster it gets done, the faster it’ll be over with and we can both get out of here.”

“Right.” Pepper took several breaths in and out, the way she’d told him to do only a few minutes earlier. “Keep distracting me,” she said.

“How?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Tell me about… tell me about your parents.” It was the first thing that occurred to her. She worked her fingers further into the space, to press the piece of wire against his skin.

Stark snorted. “What’s to tell? My Dad’s the smartest guy in the world and nothing I do is ever good enough for him. Have you got it?”

“I hope so,” she replied. “I thought you said you were a genius.”

“I am a genius, just not as much of a genius as he is,” said Stark. He moved his arm a little further, but it wasn’t enough for the wire to come loose.

“Keep going,” said Pepper.

“No matter what I do,” Stark went on, “he’s like, oh, I did that when I was younger than you, and I didn’t have all this money or this fancy edu…” he hissed through his teeth as something hurt, and Pepper began to ease off the pressure she was putting on his arm. “No, hold it there!” he said. “All this fancy education. I didn’t even… oh shit… I didn’t even tell him I won that prize or that I was on the cover of the school newspaper, because he wouldn’t have… oh shit… wouldn’t have cared…”

“Am I hurting you?” Pepper asked. The end was still, just barely, under the lip.

“No, it just hurts!” he said. He moved a little further.

It was only a fraction of an inch, but it was enough. Pepper felt the end of the wire come free, and held it as tightly against his arm as she could. “I got it! Pull it out now!”

He yanked his arm out of the bar. The door, now free to swing, fell open and dumped both young people onto the lobby floor.

Pepper held up her hands. The lobby was semi-dark, but there was enough light to see that her fingers were smeared with blood. It was getting sticky as it began to dry, and the metallic scent stung in her nostrils. Her stomach lurched.

“Oh, man,” said Stark.

She knew she didn’t want to see his injury, but she turned and looked anyway. It wasn’t as bad as she was picturing. The end of the piece was very sharp, but it was only under perhaps half an inch of skin and so close to the surface that the dark metal was visible through the translucent layer of tissue. It was still horrible to look at, but impaled was an exaggeration.

“I gotta… I gotta…” Stark stammered.

“Lie down!” Pepper pushed him onto the floor. “Don’t you dare pass out on me. Wait right here, and I’ll be back.”

She ran back down the steps and grabbed the first aid kit out of the janitor’s closet. When she got back, she found Stark lying there with one cheek on the cold tile, but his eyes were wide and he was still very much conscious.

“I’m gonna pull it out,” she told him.

“Tie something around my arm first, so it doesn’t bleed too much,” said Stark.

“Got it. I think that’s what this is for.” Pepper pulled out a stretchy strap and tied it around his arm above the injury. “There… now like I said, keep talking. Your Dad isn’t impressed by you. Is that why you want everybody at school to know you’re a genius?” Honestly… it would explain an awful lot.

“I guess,” said Stark. “I didn’t think about it that way, but… yeah, probably. It’s nice to be able to brag a little without him telling me how much better he could have done it, you know? He actually wanted to send me to boarding school. Mom talked him out of it, but he just wanted to get rid of me.”

Pepper nodded. “You ready?” she asked.

“No,” he said.

“Me, neither,” she admitted. With her left hand she held his, while gripping the wire with her right. Should she pull fast or slow? If she were doing this to herself she would have done it at slowly as possible, probably crying the whole time, but this wasn’t for herself… so she decided to just yank. She held on tight so it wouldn’t just slide through her fingers, and pulled.

It came right out. Pepper tossed the wire aside and grabbed a wad of gauze out of the kit to press against the wound. “How’s that?” she asked.

“Way better,” said Stark weakly. “I don’t think I could have done that myself.”

“That’s my thing,” Pepper said, her voice shaking. “I do stuff nobody else is willing to do.”

“You sure do,” he agreed. “That’s a really great thing to be good at. Go ahead and brag about it, okay?”

Pepper of couldn’t wouldn’t do any such thing, but she nodded, giggling a little in relief.

“What the hell is going on here?” demanded a voice.

A light was suddenly in their faces. Pepper shrieked and grabbed Stark, as he hollered and grabbed her back. Both of them looked up, and then relaxed again as they realized it was just a museum security guard. He was a tall white man with a shaved head and a mustache, staring at them both in horror.

“Who are you two?” he asked.

Pepper couldn’t help it – she started giggling again. “We’re the kids from Triskelion High!” she managed in between bouts of laughter. “We were sorting the stuff in the basement, and they forgot about us and locked us in!”

“Why are you covered in blood?” the guard asked, aghast.

Pepper looked down – she’d now gotten blood from her hands all over Stark’s shirt where she’d grabbed him, and he’d smeared it on her arm. He was also now wiping his face, which got more blood on his cheeks and forehead, but whether because Pepper was setting him off or just because he was relieved, too, he was also laughing.

“I cut myself trying to take the door apart,” he said. “She helped me get unstuck.”

“Why didn’t you call 911?” the guard demanded.

Pepper blinked. That was a good question – why hadn’t they? They could have done that before they even started trying to open the door. They definitely could have done it when Stark first got his arm stuck. Pepper’s phone had been dead, but Stark’s had some time left on it. It just hadn’t occurred to either of them.

Stark laughed louder. “Yeah, why didn’t we do that?”

“I don’t know!” Pepper said. “So much for being geniuses!”

“We’re idiots!” he agreed.

💘 - 💝 - 💌 - 💝 - 💘

The security guard was not laughing. He dialed 911 himself, and summoned the janitorial staff to repair the door and clean the blood off it and the tiles. When the ambulance arrived – along with someone who had the front door key to let them out – the EMTs bundled Tony into the back for inspection. Since it was a chilly evening, they let Pepper sit inside with him while they slathered disinfectants on his arm.

“Are you put to date on your tetanus shots?” one woman asked him.

“Yes, absolutely,” said Tony. “I work with metal all the time, so I keep an eye on that.”

She nodded. “You said your parents are in Austria. Who is your emergency contact?”

“Mr. Jarvis, my Dad’s old butler. I’ll give you the number.”

The medic went to make the phone call, and Tony looked up at Pepper, sitting next to him. He smiled at her, and was gratified to see her smiling back. Apparently she… well, she obviously didn’t dislike him anymore. He’d take that.

“I have a confession to make,” he said.

“Oh, really?” Her thin ginger eyebrows roses.

“Well, you’re sitting there with my blood on your shirt, I figure you deserve the truth,” Tony said. “I don’t know anything about art. At least, I didn’t before last week. Mr. Coulson said he thought the reason you were upset was because you didn’t think I knew anything about it, and I decided to prove you wrong, so I did a bunch of research.”

“To impress me?” asked Pepper. “You didn’t even know me!”

“Well, as we established, I do kinda care what people think of me,” said Tony.

She shrugged. “If my Dad thought I couldn’t do anything right, I’d probably want everybody at school to think I’m a genius, too.”

“I bet everybody at school does think you’re a genius, if you work at everything as hard as you worked at sorting that garbage.”

“Then I’ve fooled them all,” she sighed.

Tony gave her another smile. “No fooling me,” he said, “you’re awesome. Maybe not as much of a genius as I am, but not every girl would get covered in blood to help you get your arm out of a door.”

Pepper shook her head. “Never ask me to do anything like that ever again, okay?” she said. “Next week, you tell me when it’s six o’clock!”

“Yes, Ma’am,” said Tony.

A car horn honked outside, and the EMT peeked back in. “Miss Potts?” she said. “Your parents are here.”

“Tell them I’m coming!” Pepper stood up and grabbed her backpack. “See you next week, Stark.”

“Maybe sooner,” said Tony. “We both go to the same school, after all.”

“Yeah, we do,” she agreed. “Maybe sooner, then.”

He reached out and took her hand, and pulled her a bit closer for a kiss. She ducked out of it.

“Oh, no you don’t,” she said, pulling her arm free. “I know what you’re like with girls!”

“Do you?” Tony asked. “You don’t know me, remember? Give me a chance!”

“Pepper!” a voice called from outside.

“Please?” He pouted and showed her his best puppy dog expression... the one that always worked on Mrs. Jarvis.

She hesitated a moment, then smiled. “Maybe. See you on Monday, Tony,” and leaned back down. She only kissed his cheek, and then she was gone in a hurry, her cheeks flushed as she ran off to meet her parents at the car. Tony, however, was grinning as he watched her go. As evenings when he’d nearly stabbed himself went, that one hadn’t been too bad at all.

#pepperony #valentine's day exchange #tytythepilot

25 notes · View notes

yongiefilms · 4 years

Text

JUST ALWAYS.

STARRING: zhong chenle and reader

GENRE: fluff; best friend!au

WARNINGS: lawbreaking; excessive mentions of teasing; though the rest is complete friendship goals

PLOT: trust your best friend to know every detail of your life, even that one embarrassing time when you blabbered about your idea of a perfect date. but also trust him to be the one to fulfill every wish you ever had, even ones you thought would never come true.

RUNNING TIME: 2.7k

DIRECTOR’S NOTE: putting out fluff before every fic i drop is just pure angst because it is coming and very soon...but enjoy this cute scenario as my parting gift for you all (even if there will be possibly be a few more fluff fics after this, though don’t take my word for it). also shoutout to @dvrlingrenjun for always reading through my fics at ungodly hours of the day.

zhong chenle was your best friend since birth. you did everything together. there wasn’t a time when he wasn’t with you. you were the inseparable duo, the partners in crime, and one half of a whole. that was you and chenle. the best of friends, but not lovers like many assumed you to be. though that was never a problem, for it a topic of discussion that was never addressed, yet fully comprehensible to you both. it was a pure and friendly relationship, something that would sustain for years to come. he was there every step of the way and who says he wouldn't continue to be?

when you both were learning to ride bicycles, who was there? chenle. when you got your first tooth pulled, who was there? chenle. when you scraped your knee on the asphalt after running around the playground, who was there? chenle. for each and every memory.

he was always present, simply growing to be your best friend. sure you had others, consider the boys he befriended at the start of high school, but they didn’t mean nearly as much to you as he did.

you could tell him anything. do anything. there was no judgment, just absolute enjoyment. that’s the way it always went and it was why you knew whenever vacation rolled around for the two of you, it would always be the best time as long as you were with him. he planned new things every day, always making an effort and this time he said it was a surprise. nothing new, but you couldn’t help but be anxious at what he had planned.

so when he had picked you up from your house, several doors down from his own and drove to the outskirts of town, you knew something was up. he had parked at the entrance of a restricted zone and told you to follow him through the clearly broken metal fence. you had no choice but to do as he said, especially when you were losing the day fast. yet it wasn't as bad as you presumed it to be, for he led you to an expanse of a field littered with various types of flowers and plants and a very tall hill that could be seen clearer as you walked forward.

he ran straight towards the hill without glancing back to see where you were, too excited for his own good.

“come on!” he exclaimed, calling your name in the process. he was in a hurry for who knows what reason, but that didn’t stop him from making sure you were doing just fine on your own.

when he turned his body around he saw you were struggling to make your way up the steep hill after running to catch up to him. you were huffing and puffing every so often. your legs felt like jelly and you were not even halfway to your destination. it just proved how out of shape you were, well partially at least. why he decided it was a good idea to come here at nearly seven at night when the heat felt worse than it did during the day was beyond you, but it was one of the things you admire about him—your best friend since day one. he was always filled with unpredictable and undeniable fun, making your days brighter with just a grin along with his contagious laughter. you were grateful for him and his sense of adventure, but not right now when you felt you were going to collapse any second.

he rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath some phrase in mandarin before carefully going down the hill to where you suddenly stopped. one wrong move and he would tumble down the dewy grass so he had to be cautious. one of you had to make it out of this alive and you were hoping it was him considering you needed the most help.

he finally reached you after some delicate movements, where you stood relatively close to the start of the hill.

he chortled at you and your exasperated expression, one with your lips pursed together and your eyebrows furrowed. your skin was flushed from the heat and he could see some beads of sweat glistening on the top of your forehead as well as on your temples, just waiting to fall.

you weren’t kidding from being out of shape but it was mostly the humid heat emitting from the sun that was the cause.

he clicked his tongue and shook his head then proceeded to latch his hand onto your wrist to tug you up the hill since you clearly couldn’t do it yourself.

“you can never do anything without me huh?” he questioned with a quirk of his brow.

you sheepishly smiled at him and mumbled in reply, “possibly but don’t let it get to your head.”

his piercing laughter rang in your ears a second time and he trotted forward without responding, though you knew your statement added to his ever-inflating ego.

after several long minutes and repetitive stops because let us be real he had more energy than you, more strength in his legs, you had made it to the top of the hill that overlooked the cityscape of your small town nestled in between the mountains. the scenery was beyond beautiful leaving you starstruck for you never quite saw it in this light, literally. the sun was beginning to set beyond the horizon, the warm colors starting to fade into the darkness of the night. some lights of the homes in the distance were sparkling and the usual sound of cars was drowned out by nature’s bliss. a breeze could be felt that cools you down in moments, brushing against your face and his own, his hair ruffling ever so slightly.

but it wasn’t only the scenery, it was also him and what laid before you. you had guessed he had come upon the flowery hill before he had come to your house to pick you up. for the picture mimicked one you would only see in movies. a red and white checked blanket was laid on top of the dark green grass without any wrinkles in sight and was held down by a huge brown wicker picnic basket. additionally, juxtaposition to the basket, was one of your favorite novels of all time, little women by louisa may alcott, with a bouquet laying on top. you could make out some small white daisies in the bouquet, your favorite flowers something only he would know.

everything just appeared to be perfect.

his hand had dropped from your wrist as he took steps forward to sit on the blanket, leaving you to admire everything in front of you.

your eyes were wide and filled with shock, but you managed to let a soft smile slip onto your face as you focused on him.

zhong chenle amazed you. he always did.

he tilted his head, waiting to see your next move, and then patted the spot next to him, silently asking you to join him.

you shook your head to get out of your trance and strode forward, sitting down criss-cross applesauce right next to the boy in question.

“chenle...” you spoke. “what is all this?” you let out a little guffaw, a teasing tone dripping from your words. “did you do this all for me?”

he gave you a deadpan look and you had to hold back the giggles from escaping your mouth. “don’t think too highly of yourself now.” he reached over to lightly push you to the side, the laughter bubbling up from your throat.

“but in all due seriousness, it’s a picnic can’t you see?” he put his arms in front of him and made a grand gesture towards everything before you.

your cackles halted to a stop and you huffed in response, rolling your eyes at his remark. trust him to be smart with his retorts, always trying to be one step ahead while ruining the zest in the process. silence encompassed you both as you just stared at each other, but then a beam broke out on his face, his eyes transforming into little crescents. he let out a small cough to clear the air as it was now your turn to give him a deadpan stare, but it was hard when his next words warmed your heart.

“anyways...while we are having a picnic that i obviously did for you, it isn’t for no reason. do you remember that time we were just absentmindedly discussing our crushes or something like that? it was a while ago, so i am not sure if you remember, but i do.” his hand was twiddling with a piece of grass as he had twisted away from you, refusing to make eye contact. “you told me this idea you had for a perfect date. one where your partner would prepare a picnic for the two of you, specifically with a home-cooked meal and the two of you would watch the sunset while having a view of the town. you said it was basically the dream date and the person that would do this for you would have your heart.” he let out a taunting snicker and finally raised his head to gaze at you again. “imagine that, but since you clearly haven’t had a date in forever, i thought why not?”

you were about to punch his shoulder from his not so kind jab at your love life, but he jerked away just in time before continuing. “might as well put my clearly romantic side to good use. as you can see i clearly did a fantastic job if i do say so myself. i think i got the whole lovey-dovey thing down.”

you hummed in acknowledgment though you weren’t going to give him the benefit of the doubt, well not entirely at least. “sure you do,” you let out a scoff. “but lovey-dovey? buddy, need i remind you we are friends?” you furrowed your eyebrows and glanced at him weirdly, though you were being lighthearted rather than serious.

he nervously chuckled and cleared his throat, afraid you caught onto something, but he knew it was all in good mirth. however, that didn’t calm his beating heart.

his nerves were still haywire, yet he managed to place his right palm over his chest, near his heart. “did you…” he took a sharp inhale of breath. “just friend zone me?”

you hit his chest playfully. “shut up. you’re so annoying sometimes, lele.”

he gave you a toothy grin, bumping his shoulder with your own. “it is my job after all.”

another roll of the eyes. “unfortunately, but i really can’t believe you remember what i told you about my idea for a perfect date. it seems so long ago…” you trailed off, lifting your eyes to admire your town, the faint glow of the sunlight reflecting across your face.

“i always remember things involving you.”

your heart stopped in your chest at his bluntness, the evident embarrassment coursing through your veins. sometimes it astonished you how chenle never had a filter, always speaking his mind, yet with it came the fact that he sometimes did not know what he truly said. right now was one of those countless times, albeit you knew he meant declaration, especially when it came to one of his closest friends.

you could hear the shuffling besides you. chenle was obviously trying to set everything up by opening up the basket and taking out all the goodies he had prepared for this “romantic date.”

you whipped your head around to see what he was doing with making so much noise. at that moment he had managed to take out two perfectly plastic wrapped peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, placing them on two paper plates he had taken out seconds before. his hand reached in the basket once more and he took out two apple juice boxes, putting them right near the sandwiches.

your titters rang loud, startling chenle in the process as his head abruptly jerked up.

you brought your hands up to your mouth to try to stop the chuckles from coming out, the sound becoming muffled. he raised his eyebrows at you, trying to figure out what was so funny. instances went by before you had finally become quiet and dropped your hands in your lap.

“chenle you can’t be serious. what is this? an elementary school meal?” you threw your head back, placing your hands flat on the checkered blanket to keep your composure.

“hey! elementary meals were good. don’t slander them.”

you brought your head forward, raising your hands up in the air for defense. “okay, okay.” your beam was wide viewing his clearly offended expression. “though i know you can cook so it came as a surprise. i am just a bit confused is all.”

he sighed loudly, leaning back on his arms. “yes i can, but i was on a time constraint so i couldn’t hone in on my cooking skills today, okay? sorry to disappoint. though if you think about it this is technically home-made.”

“you’re not wrong, but hey i will take what i can get.”

“thank you for your generosity.” he let out a scoff then reached to the side of the basket and picked up your favorite book, thrusting it into your hands. “now here, i couldn’t forget to bring it.”

you ran your fingertips across the cover, turning it over in your hands to admire every inch of the novel even if you had seen it a thousands times before.

he poked your shoulder blade to capture your attention amongst your state of admiration. he held out the bouquet of flowers you speculated he had picked from the flowery field surrounding the hill and you put the novel to the side, taking the flowers from him.

“wow i guess i can’t deny you are a little bit romantic,” you jeered at him.

he whirled his head away, the tips of his ears growing slightly red. “now shut up and let’s watch the sunset...please.”

you let out a long breath. “fine, but don’t forget we have to eat too.”

he rolled his eyes, handing you the plate with the peanut butter and jelly sandwich along with the apple juice, which you gladly took from him after placing the bouquet down. “obviously.”

so that is how you spent the rest of the evening, like the perfect date you had in mind years ago―watching the sunset and eating a homemade meal even if it was something straight out of the elementary school cafeteria, while sitting atop a hill that encompassed the whole town.

when the light of day finally faded away, you cuddled close to your best friend, seeking some sort of contact even if the coolness of the night was rarely felt.

he didn’t even think twice before putting his arm around you, tugging you a little bit closer to him. when he did so you placed your head on his shoulder, rotating away from the now dark sky to peer up at him with puppy dog eyes.

you spoke so gently that if anyone managed to pass by the two of you right then, they wouldn’t be able to hear you from the barely evident sound.

“hey lele?” you question.

he hums in return, still observing the twinkling lights of the town and stars.

“thank you for today. i enjoyed our little friend date, definitely was like i imagined it to be.” you released a small giggle. “a perfect date indeed so thank you for doing this for me.”

he turns his head down to glimpse at you once you finish talking, his gaze filled with fondness. he then shifted slightly and placed a kiss on the top of your head, murmuring his next words.

“you’re welcome.” you could hear the smile in his voice.

you looked straight forward, no longer locking eyes with him and whispered into the night,“i love you.”

his melodic laughter filled your ears. “yes i know.” he paused, murmuring right back. “but i love you too.”

you held out your pinky finger, raising it slightly so he could clearly see it among the increasing blackness.

“always and forever?” you asked.

he hooked his pinky with yours.

“always and forever.”

84 notes · View notes