#pierce brown said that it took so long because he also focused on the live action that will prolly never happen or it will just fail

[the-passenger-if]

one of my favorite angst tropes is someone breaking up with their partner in order to keep them safe! how would the ros handle this if newman did this to them? (also, would any of the ro’s break up with newman to keep them safe?)

combining it with

How would the ROs react to Newman who just texts them out of nowhere and the message just say "I love you always bye sorry" as if Newman was in a hurry and no matter how hard they try to contact them, no one picks up.

also

some angST!! How would the ROs react to Newman breaking up with them after being together for a looooong time?

and

ROs reaction to Newman wanting to break up with them after a while of being together?

Jonny and Horizon would break up with Newman to keep them safe. Fiama knows she can keep both of them safe, and Roach will do their best but if they have to die then they will die together xD

Combining Newman just up and disappears one day with Newman breaks up with RO after being together for a long time.

Long angsty scenarios under the cut.

“Mommy… kisses me… on the… cheek. Cheek. Cheek, Bruno. Listen, cheeeek. That’s chek.”

Bruno mutters the word ‘cheek’ under his breath a few times before adding another ‘e’ just on top of the first one.

“No,” Fiama tells him. “Erase the word and rewrite it. Well this time.”

Her son scowls but he does as he’s told. His round eyes slip away from the exercise book to the front door and stay there.

“Bruno,” she calls him. “Bruno.” He looks at her, and she knows. She just knows what he’s thinking about. Who he’s thinking about. “Cheek.” She points at the book.

He writes down the word very slowly and forcefully on the page. She still can read the wrong word under it, but she decides to let it go.

“The chick eats corn,” Fiama continues, “The… chick… Chick, Bruno.”

He bites his lower lip, staring at her.

“Remember the chicks? Grandpa took you to see them…”

Bruno mutters ‘chick’ under his breath a couple of times, then his eyes go to the front door again.

“Bruno,” and she doesn’t want to lose her patience like this, but she’s tired and she wants to… she doesn’t know what she wants to do yet, but doing homework in the living room with a very distracted Bruno isn’t it.

Her boy scowls at her, pencil shaking in a tiny angry fist. He opens his mouth to retort when someone knocks on the door. His eyes widen, the scowl vanishes. He jumps off the chair, homework and pencil and Fiama completely forgotten.

“Bruno!” she calls out, but he’s already dashing to the door and yanking it open.

“Oh! Hi there, rabbit,” Fiama’s mother says.

“No!” Bruno replies trying to close the door again.

That’s when Fiama stands up and grabs him by the arm. “Don’t you shut the door in your grandma’s face!”

“Don’t you grab him like that!” her mother yells at her, and she lets go of Bruno as if he was a hot iron.

“Why are you here?” Bruno screams at Fiama’s mother. “I wanted it to be them!”

“Bruno!” Fiama scolds.

“No!” her boy yells at her. “This is your fault! You did this!” Then he’s running off to his room, slamming the door behind him.

Fiama isn’t the type to care about metaphors, but right now she completely understands what people mean when they say 'it felt like a bucket of cold water'.

The one that breaks the silence is her mother. “Well, didn’t I tell you this would happen?”

“Not now, mom.” Fiama grits out.

“Let us hope it doesn’t affect Bruno too much…”

“I said not now.” The glare she sends her mother’s way is enough for the woman to shake her head and turn away.

Fiama closes the door very carefully, and then rests her back against it, scowl set on the table where Bruno’s homework was left unfinished. A thought like a flash; the table toppling over, books and pencils, and the ceramic fruit basket flying in the air. It passes quickly. Fiama is taking slow deep breaths. She still remembers what happened the last time she let her emotions get the best of her. That familiar wave of shame and guilt washes over her as she remembers Bruno’s stunned silence when he found her sobbing in her room, sat in the midst of broken pieces of whatever she had lying about in there.

A single tear rolls down her cheek, one Fiama swiftly washes away. She promises herself this is the last she’ll ever waste on them.

---

There's one lonely cloud floating in the blue sky and Jonny's eyes have been following its snail-like march for the last ten minutes or so. His neck is starting to feel stiff but he doesn't shift his position; watching the lazy parade happening outside of his window has kept his mind in silence. Sweet, sweet silence.

It isn’t surprising that it doesn’t last. Somebody is knocking on his bedroom door and Jonny really doesn't have the energy for this. He closes his eyes shut, focuses on the inverted shadow cloud burned in his tired retina. The door clicks open and he keeps still on his bed, chest barely moving. It's childish, he knows this, but it's the only thing that seems to keep Joaquin and Lucia from asking how he's doing or commenting about his love life, or even worse, trying to give him advice.

The visitor lingers there where they stand for another moment, before closing the door again. Jonny thinks he’s been left alone to go back to what apparently has become his favorite hobby as of late, when he hears approaching footsteps.

“I know you’re awake.”

“Don’t tell me they called you,” he says in a drawl, opening his eyes and fixing them on the man sitting on the bed across from his. Quino has the same green eyes, straight nose, and wavy brown hair Jonny has, however, his twin chooses to wear it shorter and well out of his face. He is, after all, the good-looking one.

“They didn’t,” Quino assures him with a conciliatory smile. Jonny’s skepticism must be written all over his face because his brother crosses his heart and shrugs.

“Why are you here?” Jonny knows why, but he also knows Quino too well and his twin has never been the type to start awkward conversations unless Jonny opens that door for him first.

“Do I need a reason? Can’t I—?”

“They broke up with me,” Jonny cuts him off, “I’m feeling like shit, I just want to sleep until I forget I ever met them, but every time people ask about it I think about them, and every time they tell me ‘it will pass’, and that I’ll ‘find someone new’ I just want to jump in front of a car.” Quino doesn’t say anything, he just nods while picking at his nails. Jonny rolls on his back, stares at the ceiling. “I know I’m way too old to be acting like this, but I don’t know what else to do.”

“You aren’t too old to feel like shit, Jonny. You loved them, and they left you. It’s completely understandable.”

He presses his lips together. He did love them. He does love them still. Stupid, so stupid.

“If you want to cry—“

“Screw off.”

“Not in front of me, heaven forbid,” Quino says with mock horror, “but you should cry sometimes. Crying is good for you, you know?”

Maybe it is, Jonny guesses, but he might have cried himself dry the night Newman broke up with him over the phone. Over the fucking phone, of fucking course. He rubs at his dry eyes. He doesn’t want to think about that. “Yeah,” he mutters.

The silence stretches until Quino clears his throat. “So, do you want to know why I’m here or not?”

Jonny turns his head and then frowns at the tickets in his brother’s hand. He blinks twice, recognizing the iconic font printed on them at once. He sits up an instant later. “You’re shitting me.”

“No, I’m inviting you to see Metallica in Columbia.”

“Their last two albums suck,” Jonny says, yet he still takes the ticket from Quino’s hand.

“What doesn’t?” his twin asks with a laugh, and this time Jonny can feel himself smile.

---

One of the humans is awake. Shit. Roach thought they had at least another hour or two, now they’ll have to deal with them and their overfamiliarity and their hands and their faces.

The stub between their lips trembles and they realize it has gone out. They take it, frown at it and then flick it off. It flies in an arc, landing among its dozen of dead brothers. Roach knows at least ten of those are theirs—not that the parking lot of this dingy motel could look any worse by having more dead cigs lying about.

They look for their smokes in the denim jacket they are wearing—a gift from a trucker with a tendency to comment on people’s appearances and leave his jacket behind when going to the restroom—and almost drop the entire pack when the door at their left opens.

“Those things will kill you,” says the woman coming out of their shared motel room.

“Life is killing me,” Roach replies without missing a beat, but they don’t smile; she won’t see their face anyway, not when the sun has yet to come out, and the only lightbulb over their head suddenly burned out.

“Do you have another one?”

She comes to sit next to them on the bench and Roach doesn’t need light to see the deep crow's feet at the corner of her eyes and the dark circles under them. Their conquests always look immensely better under synthetic lighting, once outside, once they’ve used one another, it’s like the spell breaks.

Roach holds two cigs between their lips and lights them with practiced ease. They offer one to their broken Juliette. It’s the least they can do; they do remember biting her hard at some point in the middle of their sexcapade… or maybe they bit one of the others, they aren’t sure anymore.

She accepts it with a thanks and takes a long drag. She sighs out the smoke, peers at Roach as if she could somehow pierce through the shadows and take a good look at them. “You are young, darling,” she croaks out. “Way too young to be doing this shit.”

“Smoking?” Roach asks innocently. Words read out from a script, tone sweet, face immobile. The face of a ghost really, one that haunts and judges them.

The woman shakes her head and then points with her thumb at the room behind them. “I bet you aren’t even thirty yet.” She tilts her head at them, eyes narrowing and still trying to see. “Whatever happened to you… you can opt out. It isn’t easy, but you can move on, you can leave your old self behind. It’s never too late…” A coughing fit interrupts her fortune cookie monologue, and Roach is super ready to skedaddle now.

They stand up, rub their hands together. “Speaking of,” they exclaim with fake enthusiasm, “I should hit the road now. It was a pleasure, really,” they add just as if they were wrapping a 5-cents bow around used pair of socks. Here, happy birthday.

Roach jogs off before she can add anything else.

“Hag,” they mutter around their cigarette. They stop as they catch a glimpse of their reflection in the window of a stripped car. The face scowling at them is silently judging them for stealing it and then using it to lure in humans. “It’s poetic, ok?” Roach explains with a tense grin. “You fucked me over so this is my way to return the favor, pet.” The reflection doesn’t reply, but Roach doesn’t care. They don’t care. They never cared, actually. Who said they ever did?

---

Slow, deep breaths. Inhale, one… two… three… four. Exhale, one… two… three… four… five… six…

Horizon opens their eyes. They are crouched in front of the ceremonial pitcher. Looking down at their reflection in the water makes something like a thumb-size metal ball roll in the back of their skull. They wince in pain and lose whatever little balance they had before. Horizon doesn’t yelp when they fall back on their ass; the sudden waves of nausea coming up like lava inside a volcano could turn a bad situation into a nightmarish one at the flip of a hat.

“Ah,” they whine in a whisper, “if there truly is anything out there, up there, or around, please make it stop.” They run a hand down their face, suppress a fiery belch.

They blindly look for the pitcher and submerge their other hand in the cold water. Dominus Dove and Domina Basil would blanch in horror and anger, but right now, this is the best Horizon has felt since Velour dragged them out of bed, wrapped their robes around them, and pushed them into their office.

Running wet, cold fingers through their messy hair is the best feeling in the world, so they continue this little ritual for a while… and another while… and a little longer…

The door opens just a crack and Horizon’s gaze jumps to Velour’s so fast that the metal ball comes back with a vengeance. An arrow piercing their brain back to front.

“Ahh!”

“This isn’t happening,” Velour hisses as they slink into the room and close the door behind them. “Tell me this isn’t happening.”

“This isn’t happening,” Horizon mutters trying to smile through the pain. They open their eyes to find a very frowny, very serious Velour staring down at them. The smile slips off their face like a slug going down the drain. “I’m so sorry, Velour.”

“As you should,” they reply coldly, and Horizon wants to cry because there’s so much more to their tone than just scorn; they are truly disappointed and they have all the right to be.

“I’m a mess,” the words sound strained to Horizon’s ears, and they can feel new tears threatening to spill down their face again.

Velour’s jaw tightens before they crouch down shaking their head. “You are drunk,” they whisper in a mellow way. “And we can’t let anyone know that.”

“No, we can’t.”

“Alright, I’ll tell them you are indisposed. Wait here, and please, stop playing with the sacred water, Domini.”

Horizon can feel themself blushing in embarrassment, but they nod nonetheless and almost don’t wince when the metal ball ricochets around their skull.

Velour steps out of the room, their voice booming in the cabin, “Domini Horizon has fallen ill with a fever. Today’s prayers will be under my supervision.”

“Are they ok?” somebody asks.

“Yes, but they are very tired and would appreciate being left alone in their cabin. Any concerns or questions you have can be brought to me.”

Efficiently, they march into the office again. “Lean on me, Domini,” they instruct and Horizon does as they say. A few moments later, The Domini is back on their feet and being herded out of the office and through the cabin. They keep their head down, letting their hair cover their face.

“Poor Domini,” another person loud-whispers, “they are drenched in sweat.”

Next to them, Velour tenses up, but they don’t let their discomfort show in any other way.

Once in Horizon’s cabin, their assistant sits them on the bed and fetches them a glass of water.

“They aren’t worth any of this, Domini,” Velour says, and Horizon keeps still, lips barely touching the water. They look up at their assistant but say nothing. “That’s all I wanted to say, and that’s all I’ll say on the subject.”

Horizon puts down the glass on their lap, both hands holding it still. They lower their gaze before softly replying, “Noted.”

Velour makes to leave. They open the door before saying over their shoulder, “And stop drinking. If I come back to find you drunk again, I swear I’m leaving. For real this time.”

Horizon nods slowly, and doesn’t look up until Velour closes the door behind them. Once they are out, the Domini puts the glass down, next to the bed, carefully lies down, and lets the ugly sobs come gushing out of them like muddy water from a broken levee.

[ateezmakemeweep]

seonghwa x reader x yeosang; love triangle au

word count: 35k

angst, fluff, smut

it was in your first class of the semester, intro to creative writing at nine a.m., that you met kang yeosang.  

you didn’t know what to expect from the college experience, leaving the safety and familiarity of your hometown to come to a new city full of strangers and endless possibilities.

one of them being an all-consuming, butterfly-inducing first love that you missed out on from years of being socially anxious and reclusive.

it all started when you showed up late to your first class, red-faced and flustered and apparently very forgetful.

you sealed your fate the moment you borrowed a pen from the cute boy next to you, sneaky looks and shy smiles eventually morphing into so much more.

september - freshmen year

you’ve seen movies and shows and even heard some things in the halls of your high school about college classes. how they were so much harder than anything you’d been exposed to but also came with more freedom.

you didn’t need a certain color or book for the subject, you could freely leave to go the bathroom or get a drink, you didn’t even have to show up for all the professor cared.

it was also known that there were many different types of people in college: the stereotypical frat boys, boasting about parties and girls as they wore cut-off shirts and showed up to class hungover.

there were the edgier teens and young adults, finding their own look away from the eyes of their parents with piercings and tattoos and brightly colored hair that caught the attention of the older, snooty professor.

and then there was everyone else.

students like you who, maybe, didn’t fit in anywhere yet or didn’t know where they were gonna fit in; but, truthfully, fitting in was the last thing on your mind.

because it was the first day of classes, bright and early in the morning, and you were scrambling into the grand brick building, panicked and breathless, as you searched desperately for room 204.

you set an alarm and got out of your dorm room and everything, a single dorm you are so eternally grateful you secured. but it was a few wrong turns and entering one of the wrong buildings on the other side that landed you your current fate.

winded with messy hair and slightly red cheeks as you entered what you were praying was the right room. the professor was still doing introductions via a powerpoint and barely sparred you a glance, allowing you to easily slip into the first available seat.

you took the professor doing her own introduction and going over the syllabus to catch your breath, calm down and relax yourself because okay, yeah, that was a bit of a mess but you’re here in one piece now.

you made it in without getting scolded, you didn’t fall on your face or trip over the outdated tan carpet and you’re pretty sure no one even noticed you.

“i’ll spare you the ice breakers because i know you guys are gonna get stuck with some in your other classes,” the professor said, another win for you because you can’t imagine anything worse than trying to talk to someone right now.

“i just have a few notes for you to take and then i’ll let you guys go early. how does that sound?”

there’s a chorus of replies muffled by the sound of students shuffling to open their bags, notebooks hitting the table and the satisfying but annoying click of new pens.

it’s upon opening your own backpack that you realized, not only were you late to your first day of college but, you’d forgotten something as simple as a pen.

you rummage through your bag, hoping one just slipped to the bottom and letting out a quiet, annoyed sigh as you come to terms with this. you should’ve just brought your laptop, you already see several other people them so it would’ve been fine.

why do you always have to-

“need one?”

the deep voice from beside you is low and whispered, long fingers attached to a veiny hand offering you a blue pen. you hadn’t even noticed who you sat down next to you, far too consumed in your embarrassment about being late to notice the very attractive, very nice man sitting right next to you.

he couldn’t help but notice you though, if the way your bag hit into his shoulder and the cute little sigh you made when you plopped down right next to him didn’t immediately grab his attention.

his interest was only peeked further when he heard you rummaging next to him, a slight flush on your exposed neck that he can only assume happens when you’re flustered.

his voice ripped you from your frantic searching, eyes meeting his as your breath caught in your throat.

they were deep and brown, with a soft light in them that kept you entranced for far too long. his hair was black and looked soft to the touch, hanging just above his eyes so it didn’t obscure his regal features.

“i... yes please,” you finally answer with a wince, taking the pen from his hold gently. “thank you.”

“no problem,” he responds cooly, keeping his eyes on you for a few fleeting seconds before turning back to the board.

taking notes and focusing on the professor’s voice keeps you occupied most of the time, the pen in your hand and the blue ink on your paper a constant reminder of the person sitting right beside you.

he doesn’t look like anyone you’d ever met before in your life.

sure, you’d had crushes on people from your school back home but that was only because they were nice to you. they weren’t like the majority who made fun of anyone who wasn’t like them - cool and popular and had an interest in going to parties and being social.

there was never anyone who looked like him though, so strikingly attractive and cool even though he’d only said four words to you; maybe this is just showing your inexperience, falling in love at first sight with a person who just gave you a pen and has a pretty face.

“alright we’ll wrap up here. i’ll see you guys next time!”

your professor’s voice pulls you from your thoughts, the rustling of people all around you bringing you back to reality.

you close your book and put the cap back on the pen, grateful you were too distracted by your thoughts to chew it absentmindedly - you probably would’ve had to drop the class if you had to give him back a chewed up, slightly wet pen cap.

you look next to you to see the boy is tucking two books under his arm, about to get up and leave for the day before your lowly spoken voice stops him.

“wait,” you say, quiet but abrupt as he turns around to look at you.

his eyes are soft and glinted with a certain type of amusement, one you can’t quite make out or have the ability to try and determine right now. you can only hold out his pen dumbly, your stare on him blank despite the slight flush to your cheeks.

it only deepens when he holds your gaze, eyes roaming your face before a smile crosses his face and make your heart jump inside your chest.

“it’s okay, keep it,” he says, nodding his head toward your bag.

“oh... are you sure?” you squeak out, “i don’t wanna leave you without an extra pen.”

a deep chuckle leaves his mouth as he nods his head, everything about him, his presence, his laugh, his face making you grow even more out of sorts.

“i’ve got more, don’t worry.”

“oh. well, thank you!” you smile softly, tucking the pen in the pocket of your sweater. “i’ll be sure not to lose it.”

“cool,” he chuckles out, the sweet smile on his face causing yours to widen. “i’m yeosang.”

“y/n,” you introduce sweetly, a lingering silence between you two full of soft smiles and wandering eyes; you aren’t aware of that feeling hanging in the air, something so obvious and palpable when two people are immediately attracted to one another, but he feels it.

he felt it in the way he’d sneak glances at you, your brows furrowed as you took notes or the far away look in your eye when you dazed off with your cheek on your hand.

he didn’t know why he was immediately drawn to you, maybe something about your wide-eyed looks or sweet vanilla scent, but he was sure of two things: he needed to know your name and he had to get here early next class to get the same seat next to you.

november - freshmen year

it took yeosang two months to ask you out.

it proved to be one of the more challenging things he’d done within these past two months of school - not because he was nervous or thought you weren’t interested but because getting you to open up was incredibly trying.

he knew you were interested though, if the way you alcoholism when you saw him or continued to sit next to him was any indication of that.

you learned within the first few weeks of class that he was a freshmen like you, had an older sister who also went to this school and planned with his seven high school friends to all attend college together.

“that’s... kind of crazy,” you giggled, a smile on yeosang’s face hearing your laugh ring through the classroom.

the professor was running a few minutes late, leaving you and him and all your other classmates to chat amongst yourselves.

“do you live together?”

“unfortunately,” he says, the pain in his voice causing you to muffle another giggle into your hand. “i love them, don’t get me wrong, but it’s like... constant chaos. and the house is always mess. it’s a miracle that i won rock, paper, scissors for a single room.”

“well that’s good then,” you say with a smile. “i have a single dorm here, too, actually.”

“oh?” he says, head cocked to the side questioningly. “did you wait too long to apply?”

“oh no, i actually... requested it,” you tell him quietly, a slight blush on your cheeks as you explain yourself. “i do better with my own space. i don’t know if i could be around someone, like, all the time. especially if they had different habits than i did.”

“i get that, completely,” yeosang says, a shudder going through him at the mere thought of some of his roommate’s different habits.

like how wooyoung rarely throws out leftover food before putting it in the sick, leaving disgusting, soggy food out that results in all of them gagging and screaming at him.

or how mingi insists on showering in the late hours of the night, the sound of water and pipes squealing ripping him from his slumber.

or, one of his personal favorites, how hongjoong must always have three pairs of shoes stacked on top of the shoe rack - no more, no less, or he says it throws off the rack’s equilibrium and sends him into a frenzy.

“but doesn’t it get lonely?” he asks, “what do you on weekends and stuff?”

“homework, sleep, sometimes go to a coffee shop and do more work,” you shrug, never realizing how much of a reclusive loser you seem to be until this very moment. “i’ve met a few girls from my classes but our project ended a few weeks ago.”

you felt the need to throw that in there, just so he knows you do in fact see other people from time to time.

“well you should come to one of our parties,” yeosang says with a smile.

“my sister’s friend always throws them at his house. they’re fun and don’t get too sloppy since it’s not people our age trying to catch up on the full college experience.”

dread pools in the pit of your stomach at the word party, not being able to picture anything worse than standing in a overcrowded house being surrounded by sweaty, drunk bodies and the stench of alcohol.

but that sounds far too harsh to say to yeosang, instead giving him a small sympathetic smile as you shrug your shoulders.

“i don’t know, i’m not much of a party person,” you confess quietly.

“oh, c’mon,” yeosang whines slightly, swinging his chair to face you playfully.

there’s a glint of something in his eyes, like he’d be fully prepared to beg and plead with you just to see you outside of the classroom or library.

“it’ll be fun! we’ll be able to hang out without finding our voice and engaging the audience.”

you giggle at the words that have left your professor’s mouth about seven hundred times this semester, cocking your head to the side as you looked at him pleadingly.

partially because, if he keeps looking at you like that, you’re gonna crack.

“i don’t go to parties much,” you tell him, a soft sympathetic frown on your face.

you really don’t wanna reject him. you wanna hang out with him outside of this class and school and engaging the audience but why does it have to be in that type of setting?

but it’s not like you can suggest any other setting.

because then it’ll seem like you’re asking him out on a date and that is something you definitely can’t do.

“why? are you scared?” yeosang teases, his eyebrow quirking up along with the smirk on his lips. “i’ll be with you the whole time. you can even meet my friends, they’ll be on their best behavior for you.”

you’ll never get used to the way he says your name. the way his deep voice makes it sound and how butterflies erupt in your stomach.

“yeosang...” you drag out in a slight whine, feeling bad at how eager he’s becoming and how much you really don’t wanna go. but you wanna go for him. you really, really do.

his smile widens at hearing you say his name, the sound of it falling from your pretty lips never failing to give him the same reaction. he wants to hear you say it more, in every way, in every setting, where people and his friends see that you’re comfortable with him.

“please, y/n?” he asks, his face leaning closer to yours.

your faces are mere inches apart, unaware to everyone else in the room sleeping on the tables or texting on their phones.

his eyes are roaming every bit of your face, lips quirked up in a smile that has your eyes falling down to his lips before back to his glinted eyes.

“for me,” he hums lowly, his smile turning to a smirk when he notices you swallow nervously.

“i really wanna hang out with you,” he says, his voice just above a whisper as he speaks to you and only you. “if you hate it that much, we’ll leave and do something else. but i want us to try. i want you to meet my friends and just have fun for a night with me.”

you let out a sigh, the air between you thick and charged as his eyes become more and more hopeful.

“i won’t leave you once. not even to pee.”

you narrow your eyes at him, pushing him back playfully and ignoring the hard muscle under your hand.

“i don’t wanna hang out with you if you’re gonna piss your pants.”

his deep chuckle booms through the room, waking a few students angrily while grabbing the attention of others. but he can only shake his head at you, eyes falling to your lips when he sees you press your teeth into the soft looking skin.

“then it’s a deal. as long as you’re there, i won’t piss my pants. how does that sound?”

you first met park seonghwa at that party on a friday night.

he was just in the midst of the many introductions and first impressions of yeosang’s seven roommates, sealing his fate as yeosang’s incredibly handsome but standoffish best friend.

you were more so focused on how handsome and happy the black-haired was to see you anyway, a smile lighting up his face the second he saw you emerge from your car.

driving yourself was a sure fire way to not drink and get shit faced, release your ever present desire and crush on yeosang in the form of a sloppy drunken kiss and embarrassing, stuttered confession.

“hey guys, this is y/n,” yeosang said, his hand guiding you by the small of your back. “the girl from my class, who-”

“you haven’t stopped talking about? yeah, we figured,” the friend he introduced as wooyoung chirps, throwing his arm around your shoulder. “you’re just as pretty as he said, y/n. do you want a drink?”

you can barely respond to the happy, chipper boy next to you, too distracted by his words and the pink flush creeping up on your cheeks.

“i... uh... no thank you,” you finally stutter out, an awkward giggle leaving your mouth. “i drove myself here so i can’t drink.”

“now why the hell would you do that!” wooyoung yelps, throwing you an incredulous look before punching yeosang in the arm.

“um, ow?!” yeosang says, a smile pulling at your lips at the sound of his voice.

“why would you invite her and not offer her a ride, you sick fuck? now she can’t drink and have fun.”

“i’ll still have fun,” you reassure wooyoung with a sweet smile. “i don’t drink much anyway. or come to parties, for that matter, so this is all gonna be a new experience.”

“oh shit, seonghwa, you hear that?” wooyoung says, nodding his head toward the dirty blonde with a sour look on his face. “she’s a recluse, too.”

“don’t call her that,” yeosang snips at the same time seonghwa says “don’t call me that.”

wooyoung only rolls his eyes before promptly getting whisked away to dance by mingi and san, leaving you and the others huddled around the couch and side table littered with their beers.

“i’m sorry about him,” yeosang says, breathless and defeated in a way only his oldest friend can make him. “he has no filter or knowledge of boundaries.”

“it’s okay, i like him,” you smile, your eyes meeting his and causing your heart to jump.

he looks better than he usual does if that’s even possible, his black hair hanging low and the faint smell of his shampoo wafting in your nose.

he’s wearing the same soft and sweet but amused expression he always has, the strangest mix of someone who looks like they’d be complete trouble but also someone you could bring home to your parents.

“then you’d be the only one,” yeosang chuckles out, the black-haired turning his head to his friend sitting on the couch. “right, hwa?”

“right,” the man’s deep voice booms, your eyes meeting at the same time.

he’s just as striking as seonghwa but not in such a boyish way. there’s a deep, brooding intensity to him that scares you ever so slightly, like he’s just as hard and cold as his expression says.

“do you wanna go meet the others?” yeosang asks, ripping your gaze away from seonghwa. “i think hongjoong and jongho are around here somewhere.”

“oh- sure,” you smile, looking back to seonghwa to see his eyes already on you. “nice meeting you, seonghwa.”

he hums a response before lifting the beer bottle to his mouth, legs spread and neck rolling to the side as if to deter anyone from sitting near him.

yeosang’s hand finds its way to the small of your back again, the warmth seeping through your shirt and making butterflies erupt in your stomach.

“don’t mind seonghwa, he’s a grouch at these,” yeosang says, a small giggle leaving your mouth as you look back at him.

“he seemed nice,” you assure him quietly, your face way closer to his than you anticipated. you can almost feel his minty breath on your skin, warmth all around you as he guides you carefully.

“they all do.”

“good,” yeosang smiles, his thumb rubbing along your back before stopping you in front of two boys playing beer pong.

“you fucking idiot! you suck!”

“fuck off, this is my first time and i’ve gotten more than you!”

you and yeosang share a look of amusement before he clears his throat, the taller boy’s head snapping toward you both. his eyes light up in some sort of recognition, dropping the white ping pong ball and ignoring the way it bounces onto the floor.

“getting your ass handed to you, i see,” yeosang quips, jongho rolling his eyes before holding his hand out to you.

“i’m jongho, yeosang’s coolest and most talented friend.”

a smile lights up your face despite the more crowded and loud area, taking your hand in jongho’s as you introduced yourself.

“you guys are in the same class, right? tell me, how much does yeosang hit his head falling asl-”

“hey, yeosang!”

all of you crane your heads toward the new voice, a group of guys with red, glassy eyes and shaggy hair looking at yeosang expectantly. you don’t recognize them from any of your classes or around campus, figuring they’re older seniors or friend’s of his sister.

“we’re gonna smoke in the back? you wanna come?”

you’re all too aware of the hand on your back moving to your waist, squeezing your hip lightly in a way that’s oddly reassuring in the moment. like he knows this area is louder and more crowded and making you ready to bolt.

you’re only not because he’s next to you and his friends seem incredibly happy to meet you.

“nah, i’m good,” his deep voice reassures.

you watch the boy’s gaze shift from yeosang to you, eyeing your body up and down before it lands on your hips. a smirk crosses his face and he nods his head, an amused “ahh, okay,” leaving his mouth.

there’s an immature and embarrassing chorus of “oohs” and “ahh,” like the grown college men are actually in a class of immature elementary schoolers who just got in trouble.

yeosang only rolls his eyes and flips them off, your eyes widening just as he turns to you with a soft smile.

“my sister’s friends. they’re cool, just stupid as shit.”

you bite down on your lip so you don’t burst out laughing, giving him a small nod that makes his smile widen.

“you wanna try playing beer pong?” he asks, “i’ll drink your beers so you can’t use that excuse.”

your eyes narrow as you pinch him arm gently, his arm knocking into yours as he narrows his in return.

“fine,” you say, “but i’m gonna be bad. i’ve never played before.”

“jongho plays every weekend and is still terrible,” hongjoong says, patting you on the shoulder reassuringly. “so it’s fine.”

“i’m not terrible!”

but come to find out, after nearly three rounds, he was pretty terrible. either he was pretty terrible or you were the fastest learner in beer pong history at this institute.

“you’re gonna be bad?” yeosang mocks with a smirk, your hands awkwardly bumping as you walk around the block.

the house had gotten far too stuffy and crowded after the second round, the noise growing louder and bodies growing closer to you in a way that made you incredibly nervous.

it was fun at first, even you can admit that. but once it got too loud, your discomfort started to show itself.

your wandering eyes, your teeth in your lip, the way you were no longer laughing or high-anniversary hongjoong despite being on different teams. yeosang had caught on immediately, deeming the third game your last before you took a break outside.

the cold air was refreshing and just what you needed but yeosang’s warm body next to you is nice too. the way your cold hand grazes his warm one, the way you’ll look at him any time it happens and catch him already staring at you.

the way, if it wasn’t for him pushing you out of your comfort zone, you would’ve never gone to an unfamiliar party or played a round (or three) of drinking games.

“i didn’t expect to be good, if you could believe that,” you giggle softly, biting down on your lip as you watch your feet. they’d almost be in sync, if you weren’t a naturally fast walker and yeosang had a slower, smoother swagger of a walk.

“i don’t know if i can,” he says, his voice teasing and light as you walk in the darkness. “beginners luck maybe but it seemed like more.”

“well i’ll probably never do it again so i’m glad we discovered this tonight,” you say quietly, a small giggle leaving your mouth.

lost in the way your heart is pounding and butterflies are in your stomach, you don’t realize yeosang isn’t walking until he pulls you by the elbow gently. your back hits in front softly, your eyebrows furrowing as you turn to look at him.

you’re greeted by a look of mock hurt, yeosang’s eyes staring down at you causing another small smile to grace your face.

“what?”

“i thought you’d come back next week,” he says, voice so soft and sweet it makes the butterflies act up even more; he shouldn’t sound like this when he can also sound so scary and intimidating, the deep tone of his voice never failing to send your cheeks blazing.

“we had fun, no? i really like hanging out with you, y/n.”

for a moment you think you ruined something that barely started to build between you two. that the fleeting look of interest in his eye is gonna be shot to hell because he thinks you’re rejecting him in some way.

but you like him.

you really like him and you really like hanging out with him - you just don’t wanna do it in such a...crowded setting.

“i liked it, too, yeosang,” you confess immediately, faintly aware of his fingers toying with yours. “but... parties aren’t my thing. it got too crowded and i just get uncomfortable but i really liked hanging out with you.”

now he’s gonna think you’re stupid. silly and stupid and, quite frankly, weird that you can’t be in a normal setting for college students. maybe you should’ve just pushed through it, maybe you should’ve just-

“so no parties next time?” he asks, the hand toying with your fingers finally fully grasping your hand. the move makes your heart jump in your chest, the perfect fit of warmth and strength in your hand making you bite back a smile.

it doesn’t stop the blush from crossing your face, though, beyond grateful for the darkness in the sky right now.

“we can just hang out us, too. see a movie, go to dinner, whatever you wanna do.”

“so like a date?”

you don’t know why you blurt that out but you’re beyond embarrassed when you realize you do, your eyes growing wide and face heating even more; if the ground swallowed you up right now, you wouldn’t even mind.

a deep chuckle leaves his mouth and it only makes you more embarrassed, your gaze dropping and head falling ever so slightly.

he crouches so he’s staring up at you, a teasing smile on his face that brings a frown to your lips.

“i’m sorry, i don’t know why i-”

“yes, a date,” he says, successfully cutting you off as he rises to his full height and lifts your face to look at him. his finger’s resting under your chin and he’s standing even closer to you, eyes roaming you in such a way that makes you stare back dumbly.

“let me take you on a date. how does tomorrow sound?”

your eyes roam his for a few silent seconds, half because you’re in shock and half because you’re still embarrassed, until you realize he’s standing there awaitingly.

eyebrow quirked cockily and eyes full of amusement, like he somehow already knows you’re not gonna say no to him.

“i... tomorrow’s good,” you finally say, not being able to help the big smile that crosses your face.

the sight causes his heart to lift in his own chest, leaning down to press a soft and surprising kiss to your cheek. it’s simple and chaste and sweet but it makes every bit of you feel even more warm and happy, excitement bubbling inside you as he pulls back and interlaces your fingers together.

dinner and a movie turned into a very impromptu trip to the store for blankets, food and a picnic basket.

the restaurant yeosang planned on taking you to, a new italian restaurant in the center of town, had a two hour wait and the new romcom that followed was sold out for the night, leaving you and yeosang in his car trying to come up with a new course of action.

you insisted that you didn’t care what you did, that you could just go back to your dorm or his apartment and order take out or watch a movie there.

but he noticed you looking at the sky absentmindedly, a far away, fascinated look in your eye at the few visible stars and had an idea of his own.

he refused to tell you what you guys were shopping for, just that you’d see when you got there and could guess as you went along. it had all been so strangely intimate and domestic, yeosang pushing the cart as you threw things in after looking at him pleadingly.

“y/n, i told you to buy the whole damn store if you want. you don’t have to look at me like that over a box of cookies.”

you narrowed your eyes, insisting you will absolutely not do that.

“i just don’t know why you’re not letting me pay for anything. not even gas,” you whine.

he rolls his eyes silently as he pushes the cart along, a smile pulling at his lips as he walks past you.

“and you haven’t even told me what we’re doing!” you yelp after him, running after him like a child who doesn’t wanna lose their parent. he cranes his neck back as he raises an eyebrow, ushering you along to “find out what his genius plan is.”

when he goes down the bedding aisle telling you to pick out the fluffiest blanket, you look at him with suspicion all over your face. a smile pulls at his lips as he ushers you over himself, his hand lingering on your waist.

“this is the nice kind,” you tell him, a happy smile on your face even though it’s white and could very well be stained and destroyed.

“then put it in, pretty girl,” he says lowly, a squeal threatening to leave you as as butterflies erupt in your stomach. a smirk crosses his lips when he sees you get flustered, tightening his hold on your waist for a moment before dropping it entirely.

his real course of action starts when you guys are done shopping, fruits and cookies and crackers stocked in the cart along with a hidden gem he snuck under the cart tray.

it’s by a stroke of luck that, when you guys pass the bathrooms, you ask if it’s okay if you run in there quickly. he tells you to meet him in self check-out as he pays, hauling ass to the register and sticking all the items in a reusable bag.

you come out with a sympathetic smile, asking him for the tenth time if you could please give him some money for tonight’s date.

“absolutely not,” he insists, grabbing your hand so naturally, it’s like you guys have done this for longer than two days. “it didn’t go the way i intended so i have to make it up to you.”

“no you don’t,” you whine quietly, looking up at him as a biting gust of winds sends you shivering. “this is fun, too. you’re just nice to be around.”

a smile lights up his face as he peeks down at you, his hold on you tightening before you quickly reach his car.

you ask where you guys are going for half the ride, a mischievous and coy smile on your face as you beg him to tell you where you’re going and what you’re doing.

you face him the entire time you do so, your fingers toying with his on the middle console. he doesn’t give you any hints but makes sure to keep his hand in yours, soft, sweet chuckles leaving his mouth when you let out more whines and groans.

“just a little longer,” he insists, the warmth of the car and his hand causing your head to rest on the seat.

it’s all very comfortable and calm, the quiet hum of his car nearly lulling you to sleep until you feel the car stop.

your head pops up and your eyes widen when you see you’re down by the beach, about an hour from your town and causing your eyes to gape at him - he just drove this far for the beach in the middle of november.

“the beach?” you ask, a confused smile tugging at your lips. you love it here and you’re certainly not mad, you spend most days in the summer down here, but you guys definitely can’t go in the ocean right now.

“yup,” he says simply, turning off the car before silently getting out. you watch him through the window as he opens the back door, carefully taking out the bag full of food and blankets before making his way to your side.

you send him a smile when he opens your door and extends his hand, a quiet “thank you,” leaving your mouth as you take his hand. he interlaces your fingers and your hands swing between you two, the chill from the ocean biting and cold but also slightly refreshing from the car’s heat.

“so...” you say once you two stop on the sand, the grains lumpy under your sneakers. you’ve never seen the beach this dark and desolate and it would absolutely unnerve you if yeosang wasn’t beside you. “what exactly are we doing here?”

“you mean you don’t wanna swim?”

your expression causes him to chuckle, disconnecting your hands to lay out a blanket on the sand. your next expression, however, warms his heart more than he’s ever felt before.

your eyes widen as they look at him, a surprised and excited gasp leaving as he pulls out a medium-sized picnic basket.

“when... when did you get that?!” you yelp, moving closer to his larger, warmer body to get a good look at it. “i didn’t even see you pick it up!”

“i was sneaky, right?” he teases with a wink, guiding you by the waist to sit down before placing the basket between you.

you barely notice the harsh gust of wind because of your excitement and surprise, yeosang’s hands draping a blanket around your shoulders before you can even shiver.

“i even packed the food. i didn’t really know how to be sneaky for that so it was pure luck that you went to the bathroom.”

and low and behold, when he opens up the white, woven basket, all the food you got was packed in perfectly. plates and utensils were strapped to the top with two small cups next to the array of fruits, cookies, and several ingredients for sandwiches.

you both happened to like cheese ones, your hands grazing and soft giggles leaving when you both reached for it in the frozen section.

“i... i can’t believe you did this,” you mumble quietly, feeling far more touched and happy than you’re willing to let on. “this is so cute. thank you, yeosang.”

you look up to see the soft smile he’s sending your way, his hand reaching out to cup your cold, red cheek. his thumb rubs over the cold skin for a few seconds, like he’s testing the waters to see if this is too much too soon.

the way you lean into him makes his heart start to pound just a little bit, his head cocked to the side as his eyes roam your face - you look so pretty, even with early signs of windburn.

“of course, pretty,” he mumbles quietly, that word again causing the butterflies to return. “thank you for coming on this date with me.”

you eat your sandwiches and fruit huddled under a blanket together, him wiping a crumb from your face and you throwing a stray piece of cheese at him when he calls you messy.

it’s all very tranquil and comfortable, like you guys have known each other for longer than two months. it’s still just enough time to still be unsure though, if your touches are too much or the way you’re looking at each other is setting yourselves up to be hurt.

you couldn’t care about any of that right now, though, laying down on the blanket and looking up at the sky with yeosang by your side.

you started off close, arms brushing before they eventually stayed glue to each other, and now you’re even closer. your head is just mere inches from resting on his chest, a shiver running through you that acts as the catalyst of him pulling you closer to him.

“c’mere” he mumbled lowly, your body immediately moving closer to hm until his warmth and woodsy scent surrounds you. you smile into his sweater, toying with the ends before his large, veiny hands covers your smaller, cold one.

“this was a really smooth idea, you know,” you say after a few moments of silence, eyes threatening to closer and body relaxing if you continue to lay here in the most comfortable silence of your life.

“oh?” he says, hearing the smile in his voice.

“yeah,” you say, tentatively turning to look up at him. there’s a look in his eye that makes you feel comfortable enough to rest your chin on his chest, your eyes briefly falling to his lips. “i think this was better than dinner and a movie. the stars are really pretty.”

a small smile grace his face as he looks at you, hand reaching up to tuck a few loose strands of hair behind your ear. all of his moves and touches tonight have been slow and gentle, like you’re a piece of glass he has to be fragile with.  

you’ve never been treated like that before and it makes your heart flutter, the sweet look in his palpable even in the darkness.

“they are,” he mumbles, his eyes not leaving you as his hand gently moves down your face.

your skin is smooth and cold and he doesn’t think he ever wants this moment to end. the closeness, the wide-eyed look you’re giving him, the way he feels so content and at ease, it’s like he doesn’t know how he lived peacefully before this.

“when’s our next date gonna be?”

a smile lights up your face as a cute giggle leaves your mouth, his hand on your chin constricting your movements ever so slightly.

“this one isn’t even over,” you tease lightly, eyebrows raising playfully. “what if when it ends, you don’t wanna see me again?”

“and why would that happen?” yeosang asks curiously, genuinely confused and positive that that wouldn’t be the case. because as he pulls your face a tad closer to him, your amused expression dropping to one of a surprise, he’s certain of two things.

he’ll never get tired of seeing you and he wants to kiss you right now.

“because, right now,” he starts again, voice low and deep that effects every part of your body. “i wanna kiss you more than anything. and then make sure i see you soon, as soon as possible, really, so i can do it again.”

you swallow nervously as you look at him wide-eyed, the confidence and sureness in his words causing your eyes to drop to his lips again.

you meet in a kiss half way that’s just as gentle and sweet as it is fulfilling. it’s a kiss that shows it’s your first time kissing each other but that’s what makes it so nice for both of you.

it’s slow and chaste but everything about it is pure. there’s no other intention than just kissing, testing out and acting on the attraction that was building the moment you saw each other.

he moves you on your back gently to hover over you more comfortable, your eyes closed as your arms wound around his neck. he doesn’t even make a move to deepen the kiss in any way, his tongue barely flicking out to trace the outline of your lips.

it’s then you pull back breathless, looking at him above you with flushed cheeks and a heaving chest.

“i... i want that, too,” you admit quietly after a few seconds, his eyes on you and yours on him.

because you wanna see him again, you wanna see more of his smile and hear more of his laugh and get to know the boy who briefly his way into your heart and mind so quickly.

“good,” he mumbles, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek before pecking the other one with a smile. “that makes me happy.”

you wanna kiss him again but he flops back down beside you before you can daringly initiate one, pulling you atop his chest again as he wraps his arm around you.

it takes everything in you not to fall asleep right there and then, feeling so comfortable and safe beside him, you’re excited to see how your next date is gonna go with him.

febuary - freshmen year

your second date turned into many more, becoming more comfortable and familiar with each other until, one night, he finally asked you to be his girlfriend.

it wasn’t anything grand, just after a night of late night drives and fast food run. your feet were up on the dash and you fed him salty, fattening fries with the moon as your witness.

he looked over at you occasionally, watching as you sipped from your drink or took a bite of your sandwich and realized in that moment, he needed you to be his.

officially.

because as far as he was considered, you were his and he was yours after your first date stargazing.

“y/n?” you hear him say, your mouth still connected to the straw as you guzzle down your soda. you move your gaze to see him looking at you, nervously swallowing your drink as your eyebrows pull together.

“what?” you ask, immediately wiping at your face and mouth. “is there something on my face?”

a deep chuckle leaves his mouth as he shakes his head, eyes roaming you for a few more seconds before his hand is resting on your face. the movement causes your heart to stutter, eyes widening and heart starting to pound.

you hope he can’t hear it. you think there’s about a 40% chance that he does and those odds are way too high for you.

“i like you,” he says.

the confession is short and sweet and everything about it is genuine. the way his voice drops and he’s looking at you with such a soft fondness, you can’t find the words to respond.

“i really like you, y/n,” he mumbles, his thumb slowly caressing the side of your face.

every stroke of his finger makes your heart pound more and more, your eyes looking up at him with a palpable look of, both, fear and fondness. because you like him, too. you really, really like him but that scares you a little.

so does the way he’s looking at you, touching you so softly and sweetly and not tearing his gaze away from you.

“i want you to be mine,” he finally says, breaking the silence in the car. “will you be my girlfriend?”

his friends took the news of your relationship just as you expected, excited and overwhelmingly supportive, with a few lingering eyes that went unnoticed by everyone.

but that’s because he made sure to keep it that way.

you didn’t go to yeosang’s often but when you did, you made sure to talk and hang out with each and every one of them. some of them were crazier and chattier than others but you found it all very endearing - no matter how overwhelmed and scared it made you.

seonghwa was the only one who seemed to be on your level, able to sit in a room and observe without saying much unless directly spoken to.

you haven’t talked to the handsome boy a lot, just casual greetings and goodbyes, but you just knew you were intimidated by him. he always held such a stern, hard expression on his face, dignified and serious in a way that just didn’t seem to match the group.

the only times you’d see him crack a smile when the boys would start brawling or hongjoong said a corny, uncharacteristic joke.

he did’t make you feel uncomfortable or unwanted though, he always said hi and always made you feel welcomed by making extra food for you or automatically setting an extra spot for you.

it was subtle but it was nice, always making you feel just a little more welcomed by yeosang’s friends - but when valentine’s day came, yeosang did everything in his power to let his roommates know they were not welcomed in their own home for the night.

“what?!” wooyoung screeched when hongjoong broke the news to them. “where the hell are we supposed to go on valentine’s day as seven single losers?! and then get a hotel?! are you nuts?”

yeosang only stared blankly at the boy as groans of protest were heard from the others, grumbles of “who said i’m single?” and “i’m not a loser,” throughout the  apartment.

“when did i say you could never come home you dramatic fuck?” yeosang sneered, “i just asked for a few hours!”

he had been tormenting himself for weeks about what to do for valentine’s day  with you. you insisted over and over again that, really truly, you didn’t want to do anything.

but he thought you deserved it and he’d never actually had a girlfriend during this god forsaken holiday - he had to try it at least once and what better time than with someone like you?

“that might be the problem though,” seonghwa said to him one night, after hearing his friend carry on for hours and hours.

yeosang looked to his friend on the couch with a confused expression, the dirty blonde rolling his eyes.

“she doesn’t like crowds or loud noises. you think it’s really a good idea to bring her out to a restaurant or public place on valentine’s day?”

naturally an extrovert, yeosang would’ve never thought that to be an overwhelming or distasteful prospect. the booming voices of people and laugher and music was something he’d loved all his life but, seonghwa’s right, you don’t like that.

you didn’t like it at the party and you don’t like it here. you don’t like when a restaurant or movie theater is too crowded, always choosing an area that’s more secluded and quiet.

“shit, you’re so right, hwa,” yeosang says, slapping his friend on the arm gratefully. “maybe i’ll just make her dinner here. we can stay in, that’ll be nice, right?”

seonghwa gives a disinterested shrug and yeosang can see he lost his friend already, wondering how the dirty blonde even knew that until he remembers, he’s the same way.

avoids crowds and big outings like the plague, only humoring them because they’d all annoy the shit out of him if he didn’t. and he thinks if seonghwa had a valentine, he’d wanna do the same thing with them.

“okay, okay, okay,” wooyoung says, the only one of the seven that had shit to say per usual. “we will go out and get shit faced if you insist. cry about our sad single lives and the fact we’re not loved this year. but... i ask that you save some left over food and buy us at least two drinks.”

hongjoong knew to rush the boys out of the apartment in a timely fashion after that, already seeing in his mind the brawl that wold ensue between yeosang and wooyoung - and once that happens, everyone else will pick sides and create more chaos.

it leaves yeosang with a little over two hours to prepare the house and dinner, lighting a candle and throwing nonsense into any closet that would fit in until the aroma of spices and flavors filled the air.

he told you to come at seven on an empty stomach, that he’d be providing drinks, dinner and dessert and to not even try bringing him a gift the same way you requested; but when you show up at seven on the dot with a cute little pink bag, he sees you did’t listen either.

“baby... i told you i didn’t need anything.”

“and i said the same thing,” you whine, poking him in the stomach lightly as you walk through the apartment.

it’s the most spotless you’d ever seen the place, a soft touched smile on your face as you picture him scrambling to clean and get the boys out.

“you even cleaned.”

“please, i made the boys do it before i kicked them out.”

“yeosang!” you squeal, narrowing your eyes at your boyfriend of two months. “you didn’t have to do that!”

“believe me, i did,” he assures, pulling you by the hand to the table set for two. he pulls out your chair and you bite back a smile, mumbling a quiet “thank you,” as you watch him prepare two plates of food.

the idea of this always embarrassed you, a cheesy romantic dinner with candles and chivalry and a boyfriend who looks at you so lovingly. but now that you’re here, you know you’ve never felt this happy before.

that seeing him do this for you and only you is one of best feelings in the world; you’re still not crazy about valentine’s day, you find it all very cheesy and dramatic, but you think it just has to do with the fact that you’re with yeosang is why you’re so happy and touched tonight.

“this is good,” you hum through a mouth full a food, a smirk on his face as he reaches over to dap at your messy lips.

“yeah?”

“yeah,” you answer through narrowed eyes, yeosang’s deep melodic laugh quickly melting your annoyed expression way.

“you look pretty.”

your brows pull together in confusion, slurping noodles into your mouth at the exact moment he says that.

you look down at your outfit in contemplation, a simple comfortable outfit you were excited to wear when he asked if you wanted to stay in for valentine’s day.

you were shocked when that was the plan he came up with, knowing that yeosang enjoys going out and socializing every day and night; but that’s what happens when you’re good at it. when you’re so charismatic and joyful and just so naturally draw people into you.

he asked if you wanted to go to dinner or a movie or do a crazier type of date but you didn’t have the heart to tell him no. just told him he can plan it and you’ll go along with whatever he wants.

you ended up getting a text from him asking if you just wanted to stay in. that he’d cook for you and you guys could just hang out and watch movies as long as they weren’t cheesy romantic comedies.

“why do you look so surprised?” he chuckles, ripping you from your thoughts as a small, shy smiles finally rises on your face - you don’t feel very pretty, in fact, you thought you actually looked kind of sloppy.

“i don’t know,” you mumble, a blush creeping up on your face as you twirl your noodles.

you feel his gaze boring into your face, pressing your lips together before finally raising your eyes to him.

“what!” you squeal, face heating up even more in a way that causes a deep, melodic chuckle to leave yeosang.

“you’re cute, that’s what,” he says, eyes roaming your face before they fall on the small, pink gift next to you. “and it’s because you’re cute i’m not mad you got me that.”

you follow his eyes to the bag by your elbow, huffing as you meet his mock harsh gaze.

“how could i not get you something?” you whine. “you never let me buy anything ever! and you made all of this food.”

he watches as you slurp up the last of your food, smiling gratefully at him before standing up from your chair. you take the bag next to you and pad over to him shyly, holding out your hand awaitingly.

he looks at it before meeting your gaze, eyebrow quirked with a smile pulling at his lips.

“what?”

“i wanna give it to you before i do this dishes.”

“like fuck.”

your eyes widen as a laugh bubbles out of your mouth, smacking him in the arm lightly before he loops an arm around your waist. you fall into him with a squeal, your heart stuttering when you’re suddenly in his lap and he’s smiling down at you.

“i- it’s only fair,” you manage to stutter out, feeling silly for being flustered over being in his lap. “you cooked all of this for us.”

there’s a pout on your lips that he can’t help but notice, next to the wide-eyed innocent shock that’s always behind your eyes.

when he pulls you in his lap the same way he did now, watching you shift and move on him in ways he doesn’t think you realize what you’re doing.

when make out sessions turn more intense, his lips trailing down your neck and his hands squeezing your hips that has tiny, small pants leaving your mouth.

when he gets more bold and tells you all the things he wants to do to you when you’re ready, lowly mumbled in your ear so he can pull back and see just how red and lustful you are at the thought of his head between your legs.

he didn’t wanna rush any part of your relationship in that regard.

one because he liked you, he really, really liked you and it wasn’t about that for him, and two because he just knew you hadn’t done much before and didn’t want you to feel pressured in any way.

it didn’t stop his own desires from surfacing. from him getting hard with you on top of him and jerking off to the thought of you when you two would part ways.

it’s feelings he’s trying to push down right now, your wide-eyed look staring at him as a soft, sweet smile pulls at his lips.

“and i’ll clean it for us, too,” he mumbles, his arms wrapping around your waist loosely before his eyes move to the bag - the disdain in which he looks at it could only be described as incredibly dramatic.

“once you see what it is, you’re gonna feel bad for looking at it so meanly,” you say with a swat to his chest, dangling the bag in front of his face.

his interest is peeked, a mischievous look behind his eyes that makes your cheeks flame. a soft chuckle leaves his mouth as he takes the bag from your hand, carefully taking out the festive pink and red wrapping paper.

the first thing he feels is cool metal, his hesitant gaze move toward you only to be met with a soft, encouraging smile. he rolls his eyes playfully, unveiling the gift that has his heart jumping in his chest.

it’s a framed photo of you two he’s never seen before, you smiling at the camera and him smiling at you as his arm rests around your shoulder.

he recognizes it from one of the parties he took you to a few weeks ago, the pretty red dress you wore with black tights under leaving him unable to tear his eyes away from you all night.

there’s even picture proof right in front of him, his gaze so soft and sweet on you he feels the slightest hint of an embarrassed flush on his cheeks.

“you looked so pretty that night,” he mumbles lowly, a low, short chuckle leaving his mouth that has your stomach swooping dangerously. “who took this picture?”

“who do you think?” you quip sarcastically, remembering half the night you were hiding from one particular friend with black hair and a high-pitched laugh.

“wooyoung’s stupid ass,” yeosang grumbles, his finger sliding over the cool metal of the frame.

he has a lot of pictures of loved ones and likes documenting moments with family, friends, even the people he meets once but has a great experience with. but this picture is by far his favorite, the way a smile is stretched across your face and how comfortable you look beside him.

“thank you, baby,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “i love it, my new favorite picture.”

“i wrote something on the back, too,” you tell him sweetly, cheeks warm as you watch his eyebrows pull together.

he looks at you for a few moments, smiling when your lips quirk up and you nod your head encouragingly.

when he flips it over, he sees your neat handwriting in red ink with i’s darted with hearts.

i really like you, too :) happy valentine’s day ♥

a deep chuckle leaves his mouth, cheeks turning pink as he throws his head back and looks at you fondly.

“i never said anything after you asked me out because i was too nervous and shocked,” you tell him honestly, his smile widening as he watches you speak. “so i just wanted to assure you.”

“thank you, baby,” he laughs out, placing the picture down and wrapping his arms around your waist tightly. “i’m glad you’re letting me know two months into this that you do in fact like me.”

a squeal of protest and defense tries to leave your mouth before he shakes his head, cutting you off with a kiss to your lips that you immediately meet. it’s chaste despite the way you’re in his lap, your mouths parting and his tongue licking along your bottom lip.

“your turn for a gift,” he says when he pulls back, both of you slightly breathless. “go wait on the couch.”

“but i wanna do the-”

“i’m just gonna stick them in the dish washer,” he tells you, the look in his eye proving you’re not gonna win this conversation. “just find something for us to watch, okay?”

you stare at him for a few seconds, his gaze and face unwavering causing you to let out a groan and jump off his lap. he smirks to himself as he begins to clean off the table, watching you pad over the couch to turn on the tv.

you seem comfortable in his house.

you look like you belong there and that makes his heart pound in his chest the whole time he puts the dirty dishes away.

he sneaks into his room to grab your gift before joining you, plopping down on the couch next to you and causing a tiny, surprised squeal to leave your mouth.

“you scared me!” you giggle, a quiet “sorry,” leaving his mouth as he starts to  dangle a small white bag in front of your face. your eyebrows pull together as you snap your head to him, a content, almost conniving smirk on his face.

“yeosang...”

“i never said dinner was your gift so stop looking at me like that,” he says, his hand on your cheeks squeezing them together lightly.

your lips are pushed together and pouted and he has to resist the urge to kiss them, your eyes shooting daggers into him the only thing holding him back from doing so.

you take the bag with a small sigh, your eyes softening when he smiles down at you.

your heart nearly drops when you see a small black box wrapped in the white, glittery paper, your wide eyes meeting his that makes him throw his hands up innocently.

“not an engagement ring, don’t worry.”

a snort leaves you as you hit his arm playfully, licking over your lips before opening the box with shaky hands.

the first thing you notice is the amount of diamonds.

small, sparkly diamonds in a crescent moon shape that makes your eyes widen. it’s shining under the faint light of living room, the tv blaring and candles from the table filling the room with the aroma of cotton candy and sugar - courtesy of jongho’s love for festive candles.

“yeosang...”

the gift leaves you just as speechless as it does emotional, tears pricking your eyes because while you love it and you’re so grateful, he didn’t have do this; you didn’t expect any gift from him since he cooked you dinner tonight.

“do you like it?”

“of course i like it, i love it,” you’re quick to say, the feeling in your chest the biggest indication of that. “but i didn’t need this, yeosang. it’s too much.”

“it wasn’t,” he insists with a small, half-amused pout, his hand running through your hair before caressing your cheek gently. he smiles when you lean into his touch, thumb running along your smooth skin.

“i saw it and i thought of you.”

you look from him down at the necklace in your hand, a small smile on your face at the memory.

your arms grazed as you laid out on the blanket together, the cold chill in the air bringing your bodies closer and closer together. neither of you even noticed until the warmth of other’s skin sent shockwaves through you, a blush on your cheeks and a shy smile on his face.

“this was kind of better than dinner and movie i think,” yeosang’s deep voice says, breaking the comfortable silence that’s fallen over you. you rest your chin on his chest as you look up at him, a small smile on your face as you nod your head.

“i think so too,” you say sweetly, sticking your cold hands under the blanket. “definitely the best first date.”

a soft smile crosses his face, his cold hand cupping your cheek as his gaze roams over your face. the light of the moon is the only source of light tonight, shining in your eyes with a look that’s making his heart pull in his chest.

he couldn’t tear his gaze away from you, the fascinated, content look on your face as peered up at the sky. take in the sight of shining stars and the crescent moon and the dark waves crashing on the shore.

it’s a sight that’s gonna remind him of you now. the moon and the stars and the distinct feeling of being content and at ease on the beach at night.

“good,” he says with a sense of finality, pressing a sweet, chaste peck to your lips. he smiles when you meet it back hesitantly, everything about it innocent and slow and just how he wants to pursue you.

“the moon’s gonna remind me of you now so i hope our second date goes well too.”

“our second date went well,” you mumble, toying with the necklace in your hand as you observe the amount of diamonds.

you’re almost uncomfortable at the thought of having something like this around your neck, knowing it was expensive and that you’ve never received a gift like this before.

“it did,” he says, the slightly crestfallen look on your face casing him to frown. “do you not like it? is it cheesy?”

your face falls the second you hear those words, the rapid shaking of your head causing a smile to pull at his lips.

“no! no, no, no, of course not,” you’re quick to reassure, guilt building in the pit of your stomach.

“i love it. i really, really, love it and it’s so beautiful. but i didn’t need a gift like this, yeosang. i feel bad that you got this and i got you a $15 frame with a secret picture.”

a deep chuckle leaves his mouth as he rolls his eyes, shutting you up with a kiss to your lips. his hand weaves through your hair and you make a tiny noise against it, clutching the necklace in your hand tightly.

“i wanted to get you it,” he says when he pills back, slightly breathless as he looks down at you.

“it wasn’t about the money. i love that picture and what you wrote on the back,” he teases, your eyes narrowing despite the embarrassed flush on your cheeks. “so don’t feel bad and please accept the gift, baby.”

he must see something in your eyes that shows him he won, a proud smirk on his face as he takes the necklace from your hold and brings it around your neck.

his hands graze your hair before touching the sides of your neck, the feel of his skin on yours causing you to bite down on your lip. his smirk widens as he struggles to clasp the necklace, all nervous feelings subsiding when a small giggle leaves your mouth.

“are you having a tough time?”

“no,” he grumbles, another small giggle leaving your mouth until you’re suddenly pushed down on the couch - necklace successfully on and back pressed up against the cushions.

all laughs and smiles are completely wiped off your face with the pressure of his body on yours, his smirking face above you causing your breath to quicken.

“oh? are you having a tough time now?”

he sounds so cocky and teasing, it should make you narrow your eyes. tease him with just as much of a conniving, wise-ass tone and smug look. but instead, your stomach swoops and your eyes move to his lips and like there’s a break in a dam, your mouths meet in the start of a fervent kiss.

he holds himself above you, tongue slipping in your mouth as he swallows your small, quiet moans. his hand trails itself down the side of your stomach to rest on your hip, the pressure of him and his lips on yours all consuming.

your hand travels to the back of his head, tugging lightly at the strands before a squeal leaves your mouth.

his deep chuckle rings through the quiet apartment as he lifts you up, plopping you down on his lap before connecting your lips again.

it’s the fastest you both have ever moved, your hands toying with the bottom of his shirt while his hands grasp your hips tightly. pulling your body closer to his  and moaning into his mouth when you rub against him a certain way.

you feel him smirk against your lips, pulling back every so slightly to catch the growing hint of lust and desire in your gaze.

“oh? that feel good?”

your cheeks flush at the tone of his voice, swallowing the embarrassed lump in your throat as you nod your head timidly.

“let me know when you wanna stop,” he mumbles, his words kissed along your neck making you sure you never want him to.

your mouths connect again in a fit of tongues meeting and bodies crashing, foreign feelings of arousal coursing through your veins. you guys always took things slow but you were never sure why - if he was doing it for you or if he just didn’t wanna do that step.

but you were secretly even hoping tonight, you’d be able to go further.

that’s why when his hands trail along the bottom of your shirt, warm fingers dipping under to touch your skin, you move into him even more. pulling back to look at him through hooded eyes as you nod your head.

you don’t even have the time to feel apprehensive when you’re sitting there in just a lace bra, exposed and slightly cold with goosebumps on your skin, because yeosang’s quick to assure you.

look at you with a soft, sweet fascination and tell you how beautiful you look for him.

both your shirts hit the living room floor before he’s scooping you up, a surprised squeal leaving your mouth that brings a smile to his face.

he plops you down on the bed shoved in the right corner of the room, clothes littering the floor and a mess of wires near the desk. it’s a little messy but it smells surprisingly clean, like a mix of cologne and yeosang’s natural teakwood scent.

“we don’t have to do this,” he says, his body looming above yours.

because you guys really don’t have to do this, he’d be perfectly content watching movies tonight with an inkling of kissing or touching, but, fuck, does he want to.

he’s wanted to hear you moan and touch you and taste you since you both started dating. since he looked at you under the stars and knew he’d fall for you shortly after.

“i want to,” you confess, a soft blush on your cheeks as you look up at him,

he rolls his tongue over his lips, biting down every so slightly in a way that makes your lower stomach tighten in desire. the look in his eyes is too much, it’s nothing you’ve ever seen before. like he wants to-”

“i want to ruin you,” he mumbles, bending down to press a peck on your neck. “i won’t do it tonight,” he continues, trailing his lips down your chest before bringing his hand to the lace.

his finger traces the red material, sliding one of the straps down before tugging down your bra. his eyes move to your nipple, hardening in the cold air as he feels his cock do the same.

“i’m gonna be slow and gentle and so good to you, baby,” he says, his hot breath fanning over your exposed boob. his lips are so close to touching your skin, the warmth and wetness bringing tingles to your skin.

“i only ask that you moan for me, okay?” he mumbles, his tongue swiping across your nipple causing a choked, strangled gasp to leave you. you feel him smirk against your skin and can’t even be embarrassed by it, just wanting more of him and more of the pleasure he’ll give you.

“doesn’t seem like that’s gonna be a problem though, pretty girl,” he chuckles out, mouth closing around your nipple again as his hands trail down your side.

every sensation seems heightened and overwhelming, completely aware of how heavy your breathing is and the building pit of desire in your stomach. desire that heightens when his hand ghosts past your pants, his middle finger tracing small circles through your leggings.

he can feel your legs widen and a smirk crosses his face, sucking at your nipple once more before pulling back and meeting your lips. you moan at the feeling of his fingers moving quicker, a strangled “yeosang, please,” catching you off guard as much as him.

but it seems to get things in to motion - because your leggings are done and your skin hits the cold air a few moments later, yeosang tugging his shirt over his head before his hands are back on you.

you’re laying beside him, head resting on his bare chest when he slips his hand in your underwear. rubbing quick, skilled circles on your clit as your breathing labors and you whine into the air.

“have you ever been touched like this before, baby?” he mumbles, a shake of your head causing him to stop his movements all together. you whine at the loss of pleasure, looking at him with glossy, confused eyes that makes him hold back a smile.

he likes seeing how desperate you got. how ready and willing and eager you are for him.

“have you ever been touched like this?” he repeats, a croaked whine of “no,” leaving your mouth that makes him smile. continue his blissful strokes on your clit as a finger slowly enters you.

you’re so wet that you welcome the stretch with a moan of pleasure, a deeply grumbled “fuck,” causing your eyes to roll back when he hesitantly adds another.

“you’re so wet, baby. you’re so fucking wet for me.”

you nod dumbly, not being able to find the words as his pointer and middle curl  and he fucks you with his fingers. you moan his name when the pleasure becomes too much, wanting to scream when he suddenly removes his hand from you.

you watch through hooded eyes as he tugs your underwear down with his teeth, his mouth pulled into a smirk until they’re only just past your upper thighs.

because like he’s so eager and can’t wait, like he’s been waiting for this moment since he knew you were gonna be okay with it, he looks down at your bare, soaked pussy with a look of hunger you’ve never seen before.

“let me eat you out,” he says, his words choked out and tone deep and strangled. “please, baby, can i?”

his voice sounds as desperate as you feel and you have to sit up so you can crash your lips on his, the overwhelming need to kiss him coming over you. he meets it back immediately, sloppy, open-mouthed kisses and tongues until you pull back and tell me “please.”

his tongue brings you to your first orgasm, your thighs shaking between his head as your hand runs through his black hair desperately.

when his cock springs free, he circles it around your entrance and enters you slowly. sweet, soft spoken words of “it’s okay,” and “you’re doing so good, angel,” that make the whole experience that much better.

you feel full and he feels so good inside you, both your moans ringing through the air and the smell of sex in the room until he’s coming in you. hips bucking and slamming quickly to follow his high before he flicks your clit a few times to bring you to your second orgasm of the night.

you both lay there after, naked and panting, before he’s up and getting a warm, wet rag. there’s a slight sting but it makes you feel incredibly love and vulnerable, watching as he cleans between your legs with a sweet, gentleness and diligence.

“was that okay?” he mumbles in your hair, the faint scent of sweat and perfume on your skin. you only mumble and nod against him but he needs to see your face in this moment.

see that this was just as amazing and fulfilling for you as it was for him.

and when he meets your gaze, his thumb under your chin to meet his eyes, he can see it was. in your glossy eyes and shy smile and pink cheeks that makes him wanna kiss you all over again.

“it was good. really good,” you confess quietly, a small deep chuckle leaving his mouth as he moves a sweaty stand of hair behind your ear.

“yeah? really good?” he teases, eyebrow quirked as he pecks a playful kiss on your cheek. “just how good?”

your blush intensifies as you hide your face in his chest, his laugh mumbled against your head as you feel his lips press against your head.

you two eventually venture back into the living room after a few more kisses and wandering hands, plopping on the couch fully dressed and cuddled into one another when there’s a commotion right outside the apartment door.

the both of you turn to see the seven other boys barreling through in a drunken, sloppy daze, yunho holding mingi and jongho up while hongjoong holds san and wooyoung. seonghwa follows behind with an annoyed expression, meeting yeosang’s gaze that screams you will pay for this.

“what the hell happened?”

“single people drank for free,” hongjoong says, watching as the four drunken idiots either collapse onto the floor or stumble into the kitchen; seonghwa follows quickly behind, because as much disdain as he has, he doesn’t wanna see anyone light themselves on fire.

“so you could only imagine how that went. i don’t even know how many peanut butter and jelly shots san and wooyoung had.”

“that is so disgusting,” yeosang says, your head nodding against his chest because “i’m sorry, but that kind of is. maybe you guys should have some water now.”

“it was good, y/n!” jongho whines, throwing himself down next to you and yeosang. he slumps against the arm of the couch, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before his eyes shoot open.

you and yeosang watch as he does so, quickly rising from the couch and sniffing like a police dog in front of a bag of drugs.

“the fuck’s your problem?”

“who lit my cotton candy candle?!” the boy yelps, taking one whiff of the air and being positive he’d know that smell anywhere. “and why does it barely mask the smell of sex?!”

your eyes widen and a deep, red blush overcomes you, a growl leaving yeosang at the same time hongjoong comes over and tugs the boy up by his arm. the smaller boy throws you an apologetic look as he escorts jongho to his room, yeosang’s arm tightening around you as you hide yourself in his chest.

“does it really? i don’t smell anything.”

yeosang bites down on his lip so he doesn’t start laughing, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he shakes his own for your own peace of mind.

“no, baby. it’s fine. he’s just a drunk idiot.”

april - freshmen year

maybe it was because you guys started out so strong.

with great communication and constant assurance that kept you both aware of each other’s feelings.

you knew when he was feeling unsure about your quietness, wondering if it was something he did or if you just weren’t feeling good that day.

he knew when you were feeling overwhelmed, realizing just how different you two were the longer you were together. how he was just so outgoing and charismatic and extroverted and you just... weren’t.

how now that they honeymoon phase was over, stupid little arguments would break out. about what to do on the weekend, about where to eat, about staying in to study versus going to a cafe on campus.

they weren’t even real fights but it was enough to make you see a change in you guys. enough to see that, maybe, one day, this was gonna be a problem and you two would have to overcome it or let it ruin something good.

“we’re having seonghwa’s birthday party at the house tonight,” he tells you during your study session, another argument he won by bribing you with hot chocolate and sugar cookies at a local cafe.

you look up from your work and nod your head, a small smile on your face at the thought of seonghwa and the others.

you’ve gotten a lot closer to all of them over the past few months, even seonghwa who took a little bit longer to come out of his shell. but now that you talked to him you saw how nice and funny he was.

how he comes across as scary and standoffish but, really, is one of the most loyal and observant friends in the room.

he always knows when people are uncomfortable or have had too much of someone or something for the night - you watched him physically separate wooyoung and san when the both had too much alcohol and were getting snippy with each other.

his presence brings a comfort over you that you can’t quite explain. maybe because it seems like he’s kind of like you - quiet and shy and doesn’t like being the center of attention.

which is why you’re shocked in the first place he even agreed to a party.

“oh, he didn’t,” yeosang says, a smirk on his face as he thinks back to the night they all gave him an ultimatum. “but it was the lesser evil that we gave him so he agreed.”

“oh?” you quip, eyebrow raised as you play footsie under the table. “and what was it? making a restaurant sing him happy birthday?”

a wide smirk crosses yeosang face as he nods, a giggle leaving your mouth as you smack his arm lightly.

“you guys are bad.”

“eh, he’s dramatic,” he says, your gaze dropping back down to your work.

he’s said that a few times when you tell him a restaurant or bar is too crowded. when you’re at one of his sister’s house parties and the beer pong table is becoming far too overwhelmingly and crowded for your liking.

it’s always in a joking manner, him whisking you away despite others’ groans of protests, but it still secretly makes you a little sad.

“i actually have to go help them set up in a bit,” he says, your neck snapping up to him again. he sees your eyebrows pull together and reaches across the table, his hand on your arm rubbing you assuringly.

“what’s that face for?”

“nothing, i just...” you let out a sigh as you look down at your lap, feeling silly and stupid and perhaps dramatic. “you’re the one who wanted to come here and now you’re leaving. i could’ve just stayed at my room.”

“yeah but then i wouldn’t have fed you,” he says, reaching over to peck your nose sweetly. “i’ll pick you up at 7:45, baby.”

you can’t even say anything before he’s up and out the door, a heavy sigh leaving your mouth as you watch him walk to his car. he turns around and waves, a small smile on your face as you wave back and watch him drive away.

you try not to think about it as you get your work done, faintly aware of the growing population in the cafe and the raising altitude of voices. a group of five take the spot next to you and that successfully gets you ready to sprint out the door.

it’s all good sounds, laughter and squeals and chipper voices, but it’s still too much for you. the sounds and the crowds and the overwhelmingly desire to just be in a peaceful quiet by yourself.

that is until a familiar voice, deep and low and calming, brings you out of your panic before it can even start.

“y/n?”

you look up to see a head of dirty blonde hair, seonghwa clad in dark leather and converse as he makes his way over to you.

“oh. hi, seonghwa,” you say, voice quiet and slightly breathless.

his eyes remain on you for a few seconds too long, gaze carefully roaming your  face before he makes his way over to the table. he sees your books and pens splayed out messily, a smirk on his face as he meets your eyes again.

“the semester just started, how do you have all this shit to do already?”

“believe me, i’m wondering the same thing,” you wince, his quiet chuckle causing a smile to light up your face. “what are you doing here?”

“getting a coffee. i slept like shit last night.”

“did wooyoung keep you up?”

“of course he did, the annoying fuck,” he grumbles, his eyes rolling and face pulled in disdain causing you to giggle. “speaking of which, where’s yeosang?”

seonghwa can count on his hands how many times he’s seen you two without each other.

“he left like an hour ago actually,” you say, seeing the time on your phone is 5:00 before your voice turns teasing and you raise your eyebrows playfully.

“he’s getting your party ready.”

seonghwa’s face pulls into on of confusion, your smile dropping as a guilty, sinking feeling builds in your stomach - yeosang didn’t tell you it was a surprise.

“oh no.”

“those annoying fucks, i swear to god,” seonghwa growls lowly, your eyes widening and lips pulling into a frown. “guess i can’t go home tonight.”

“i’m sorry, seonghwa, they didn’t tell me it was a surprise,” you whine quietly, looking up to meet his tight, dark gaze. “they said it was either that or a restaurant sang to you and you went with the party.”

“i told them that one was worse, not that i wanted a party.”

your frown deepens as you sink in your seat, your hands toying nervously on the table. seonghwa’s eyes fall to them and he lets out a sigh, eyes moving to the chair before he plops down in his seat.

a silence hangs between you both, as silent as it could be in a bustling, crowded cafe. you look up to see him watching your hands, quickly pulling them apart and smiling when he meets your gaze.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to spoil it,” you say, “but i don’t think they’re inviting that many people. yeosang usually tells me when parties are gonna be really crowded, so they’ll probably only be like twenty people.”

“yeah, well, that’s eleven too many.”

you press your lips together as you watch him, his neck rolling back and adams apple bobbing.

you can feel the table beside you watch, are sure the whole cafe has been watching since the moment he walked in. you’re not blind to the fact that seonghwa is unbearably attractive, slicked back dirty blonde hair and large stature that draws attention anywhere he goes.

for as long as you’ve known him though, you’ve never seen him bring girls around. or even mention a girl. he always just keeps to himself and his friends - and now you, you suppose, after months of trying and trying.

“i guess this is why they said we’re having a roommate meeting at 8:00.”

you send him a sympathetic smiling, assuring him that it won’t be that bad and you’ll be able to get through it together.

“i sometimes wonder how you’re able to put up with it,” you tell him honestly, thinking back to all the times you’ve watched him and his roommates. “they’re all so crazy and extroverted and.... loud.”

a deep chuckle leaves his mouth as he nods his head, rising from the chair and looking down at you.

“years of practice and selective hearing,” he says, a giggle leaving your mouth as you nod your head. you don’t think anything of the way his gaze lingers on you, sending a small smile his way before he speaks again.

“so you’ll be there tonight?”

“yes! yeosang’s picking me up at 7:45 so i should probably get going too,” you say, closing your textbooks and getting your pens together.

“i’ll order my coffee and then walk you back to your dorm.”

“oh no, seonghwa, it’s okay, i-”

but before you can protest any further, he’s turned around and waiting in line to place an order for his coffee. you let out a sigh as you pack up your books, securing it on your shoulder before meeting him at the register.

the cashier is just as mesmerized as she is disappointed when she sees you stand next to him, dropping her flirtier smile for a polite one.

“your order will be right out sir.”

he nods his head as you guys go to the waiting area, standing side by side in silence before you turn to look with a smirk on your face.

“sir?”

“you can walk home in the dark, how ‘bout that?”

a giggle leaves your mouth as you shrug, insisting you didn’t even ask him to walk you home in the first place. he only rolls his eyes before his name is called, grabbing the hot coffee as you follow behind in amusement.

the walk to your dorm is only a few minutes, you and seonghwa walking in a comfortable silence as you walk through the campus. snow from last week’s storm rests on the trees in a picturesque manner, a slight chill in the air that causes you to shiver.

“are you gonna act surprised?”

seonghwa looks over at you as you walk, his arm clumsily bumping into yours as you walk through the slushy, dirty snow - it goes seemingly unnoticed by both of you, arms accidentally grazing for a few seconds before disconnecting as you walk.

he just shrugs and remains quiet, slipping back into the dismissive and intimidating person he once seemed to be. you don’t even think he realizes he comes off like that, just has this look that screams do not look or talk to me.

you stop in front of your dorm a few moments later, turning around tot meet seonghwa who looms over you. he wears a blank, unreadable expression until you smile up at him, thanking him again for walking you and that you’ll see him in a few hours.

“no problem, couldn’t let yeosang’s girl walk alone,” he says, gaze lingering on you for the third time. you've noticed him do this to everyone though, watch and observe to a point where you think he knows things people don’t know about themselves.

“and i’ll act surprised, tonight. won’t let it slip that you ruined my birthday.”

“yeosang didn’t tell me that it was a sur- wait. is today your real birthday?”

his eyebrow quirks up sarcastically, a smile pulling at his lips as he looks at you.

"why would they throw me a birthday party if it wasn’t my birthday?”

an embarrassed flush crosses your cheeks as an awkward giggle bubbles out of your mouth.

“i just thought because it was the weekend or something,” you stutter out, “happy birthday, seonghwa.”

“thanks, y/n,” he smiles, eyes softening every so slightly before he nods his head toward the building. “go in. it’s cold. i’ll see you later.”

“bye,” you say, sending a small wave his way before turning around and disappearing into your dorm building.

if you didn’t know any better, you’d think seonghwa was an award winning actor.  

because when the party of 30 (just ten over what you predicted) screamed “happy birthday seonghwa!” in the pitch darkness, a miscalculation mingi and the light switch, he seemed genuinely surprised.

or, at least, as surprised as his face could express when he turned on the lights.

his eyes were wide and his eyebrow was quirked, a look of disdain throw at his friends who were huddled in the front and clapping excitedly.

“happy birthday hwa!”

“we got you, bitch!”

“wear this happy birthday hat!”

he whacked the red hat right out of jongho’s head, growling at him to not push it in a way that makes you hold back a laugh. he catches your eye and smiles at you, mouthing “good enough?” that has you nodding happily.

the house party picks up almost immediately after seonghwa’s arrival, music blaring and drinking games starting and a loud, pleasant chatter that your boyfriend thrives off of.

guides you around by the small of your back and introduces you to people you’re sure you’ve met before but just don’t recognize you; regardless, you’re polite.

smile at people and say hello before falling into the silence of watching yeosang and stranger after stranger talk. even someone he doesn’t know, like the friend of a friend or significant other of a friend, he talks to like he’s known them forever.

he just connects with people so easily and a part of you is truly envious of it.

“i just don’t get how you do it,” you whine to him on the couch, the same alcoholic beverage in hand (you think yeosang said it’s a rum and coke) that you humored him with when the party started.

“i just talk, baby, what do you mean?” he laughs out, you sitting on his lap as he takes a swig of his beer.

“i know but so easily,” you mumble. “and you don’t see awkward or scared or anything. what if you guys lapse into a silence? or don’t know what to talk about?”

“silence isn’t bad, though, we sit in silence sometimes. and there are always things to talk about.”

like the person walking around with jongho’s array of candles, making the drunk boy run after him and fight off people trying to sniff them.

or the incredibly competitive and entertaining game of flip cup, one side far superior than the other and completely demolishing them.

or like how the birthday boy, the reason why eveyone’s gathered here today and having fun, hasn’t gotten his ass off the couch since he walked through the door.

“i didn’t ask for these people to be here,” seonghwa growls when he hears yeosang talking shit, throwing a dirty look his way as he tosses a pillow at him. “you idiots did that all on your own.”

“and aren’t you happy we did? now you have a bunch of gifts.”

the blank stare seonghwa has shows he could not give less of a fuck about the pile of cards in his room right now, politely thanking the guests who were nice enough to actually bring them and not just their drunken presence.

“we should’ve taken your grouchy ass to a restaurant so they could’ve-”

“yeosang, bro! please come here! we need you!”

the voice belonged to a guy from your class named yeonjun. he had pink hair and was very similiar to your boyfriend, charismatic and friendly in such a gravitating, almost unnatural way.

he also apparently sucked at flip cup.

“it’s not my fault you suck,” he yells from over the couch, loud groans of protest and upset coming from the table.

“c’mon yeosang! please!”

“we need you!”

“leave your hot girlfriend and get over here now!”

yeosang looks to you to see a flustered blush on your cheeks, a deep chuckle leaving his mouth as he pecks one the pink skin.

“can i go, baby?” he mumbles quietly, squeezing your waist every so slightly. “they’re really desperate and need me.”

your lips purse together as you look over your boyfriend, the slight pout and look in his eye causing you to sigh. he knows then that he won, again, the way he usually does these days, and lifts you off his lap.

he presses another kiss to your head before he’s off, loud, happy shouts of excitement causing you to crane your neck back. he does the weird boy hand shake-hug before the game starts up, turning back to see seonghwa sitting across from you on the other couch.

“having fun birthday boy?”

“no,” he answers immediately, dryly, in a way that brings a big smile to your face. “how ‘bout you?”

“it’s okay,” you shrug, curling your legs under you as he rest on the couch more comfortably. “i hope the cake is good.”

“i don’t like cake.”

he’s never seen someone’s eyes widen as much as yours do in that very moment, a small, short chuckle leaving his mouth at your expression.

“what?”

“how do you not like cake?” you squeal.

if there’s one thing you could eat in this world, dietary and nutritional values aside, it would be chocolate cake.

“i just don’t like it, it’s too like sweet and sugary. and if it’s chocolate, that’s even worse.”

the pillow he threw at yeosang flies through the air and hits him back in the face, only your smug, disturbed expression staring back at his shocked one. it would usually make you laugh, the look on his face, but you’re truly just so disturbed - how is there not gonna be cake at a birthday party?

“how could you not like chocolate cake of all the cakes!” you squeal

“did you just throw a pillow at me on my birthday?”

“i mean like carrot cake or fruit cake i get. those are kind of gross and only certain people like them. but chocolate cake? it’s loved by almost every-”

like a game of monkey in the middle, with no monkey, the battered throw pillow flies through the air again and just misses your face; whether he did that on purpose or accidentally is no one’s business.

you and seonghwa stare at one another, eyes narrowed and faces slightly red, completely unaware to the party around you until you’re the one who cracks. put your hand to your mouth and start laughing hysterically.

not a cute giggle or breathy chuckle but a big, hearty, real laugh.

he’s never heard you like this before, probably because he’s only spent a little bit of time with you, but it makes him smile even more. the sound of your laugh and innocent happiness is contagious, his deeply mumbled “stop,” so obviously fake due to the the smile tugging at his lips.

you eventually moved onto the couch beside him, hitting him closer with the pillow before plopping down next to him. talking to him and being next to him made you forget about the party.

not because he was handsome or because you liked him - you loved yeosang and were dating him.

you just enjoyed being able to relate to someone. loved sitting there with someone who didn’t just wanna drink or get high or dance. who was able to be there in silence or talk about nonsense while being surrounded by the chaotic energy of a party.

so much so that you don’t even realize your own boyfriend left you for half the night. not once coming over to check on you or see if you were dong okay until it was time for the cake seonghwa wasn’t even gonna eat.

“i’m sorry, baby, i got caught up with the game,” he mumbled, his arms wound tightly around your waist. you shake your head against his chest, assuring him that it’s okay as he tickles your neck with soft pecks from his lips.

the night ended with yeosang getting so drunk, you had to put him to bed. it wasn’t something you minded, you’ve done this a few times before, but for whatever reason tonight it made something build in the pit of your stomach.

like you already knew tonight something in the future was gonna change because of parties, yeosang’s extroverted ways and seonghwa’s lingering eyes that everyone but you three notice.  

july:

you end the semester with all a’s, an excuse to not return home for the summer and a strained relationship.

it seemed like it happened slowly and then all at once.

there was the time at seonghwa’s party where you thought nothing of it. he was occupied and, luckily, so were you. he left you but went back smiling and affectionate, pressing kisses to your skin and mumbling about how beautiful you looked.

but then it started happening more.

at his sister’s parties where he knew you were uncomfortable.

at frat parties where you were even more uncomfortable.

even at his own house, when the boys had a few people over and they were playing video games while getting high.

it was always seonghwa who kept you company, the two of you in the same room as them but seemingly on a different planet. sitting beside one another observing the party and sharing snide, sneaky comments about others.

how it seemed as if there was some turmoil between mingi and yunho, the way they were ignoring each other and sharing looks back and forth when the other wasn’t looking.

how wooyoung and hongjoong’s frat boys friends didn’t seem to get along in the slightest, the boys always sneering at him when he laughed too loud or teased them too much.

how yeosang was so consumed by the limelight, talking and laughing and making jokes, that he seemed to have forgotten you exist.

“i don’t think he realizes he does it, y/n,” seonghwa assured you one night, the end of the semester coming to a close and allowing you all to relax.

it’d been a hard and stressful first year but there’d also been a lot of fun. a lot of making new relationships that you know will last a lifetime and a lot of things you learned about yourself through all of these experiences.

it’d also been one of the happiest times of your life thanks to yeosang, the boy you fell for so hard and so fast despite all your fears and reservations.

you’re still happy now, even with the bumps. because you think, you hope, that you guys could get through them.

“he’s always been like that. very social and in the middle of a group. people are always drawn to him.”

seonghwa’s not surprised that you were drawn to him. yeosang’s always had something about him that people flock to, men and women alike; but you were the first he’s truly fell for.

reciprocated feelings for and truly cared about their well being and them as a person.

“i don’t think he’s trying to hurt you. that’s just how he is.”

“he’s not hurting me.”

because through all of this, through him ignoring you and neglecting him and seemingly blowing off your feelings because they’re silly and unrelatable to him, you’re trying to convince yourself he’s not.

that you really are just being silly and dramatic about all of this.

that even though you go these outings for him, despite detesting them more than anything, and he keeps leaving you alone, you’re not hurt by it; but seonghwa can see through it.

and whether it’s because you guys are so alike or because he’s so annoyingly observant, you’re not sure. you just know that he looks at you with a soft, sympathetic disbelief that causes the ever growing lump in your throat to grow bigger.

“y/n...”

“he’s really not, seonghwa,” you mumble, words hushly spoken as you watch yeosang carefully; you know if he sees you looking upset, he’s gonna come over.

he’ll stop whatever he’s doing or whatever conversation he’s having and it’s because of that you can’t be upset. because he still loves you and cares for you.

you just have to stop being so dramatic and silly.

when you say that to seonghwa, the very words that come from your boyfriend’s mouth, you watch his face change completely. become harder and harsher as he looks to yeosang, jaw ticking as he pops his neck to the side.

“whatever you say, y/n,” he mumbles. “i just don’t want you guys having problems over this. he loves you, y/n.”

he asked you to stay with him for the summer a few days before classes ended, unsure if you’d be able to but wanting to ask because “my parents are gonna be away for the summer,” he said to you suddenly, both of you laying naked in your dorm.

you craned your neck up to look at him, sweat glistening on his face and chest making him handsome even then.  

“are you scared to be in the house all alone?”

he rolls his eyes playfully, bopping you on the nose lightly before pulling you on top of him. the blankets lay around you messily, your core under his flaccid dick that just ripped several orgasms through you.

“very. i’m gonna be very scared and need you with me. i truthfully might not even survive,” he drones on, resting his hands on your hips as you roll your eyes at him.

you ponder over it as you sit on top of him, biting down on your lip in a way that causes him to tighten his hold and roll your hips over him just a little bit. you ignore him and his horny ways the way you’ve learned to, thinking it all over before realizing it might be good for you guys.

you don’t know if he’s noticed the slight disconnect, it could just be you living in your head all the time, but you think spending time together would be good. would remind you of how you felt with him when you first started dating and he always made sure you were his number one priority.

you want some of that again. you want him to notice when you’re upset or uncomfortable and go out of his way to help you in a crowd, even if it’s just for a moment.

you want to feel like if it came down to you, his friends and the parties or you, that he’d pick you each and every time.

the first few weeks of summer felt as if you were getting that.

you spent a lot of your time longing around his house. playing in his pool and watching movies outside and having sex on nearly every surface, you were surprised to be able to walk.

but all of that quickly stopped when everyone else was home from college.

when his hometown became just one big reunion, people from his high school and neighboring colleges getting together the one way college kids knew - house parties with kegs and loud music.

it seemed as if every few days, you guys were going out.

you and yeosang and all of his friends meeting up with different groups and different houses and having the time of your lives late into the summer nights.

the stuffy houses and sleazy bars definitely weren’t your scene but yeosang, per usual, thrived.

he more often than not would leave you after the first hour, making sure you were with seonghwa or hongjoong or yunho before going off to drink or mingle with his friends.

he’d check on you periodically but it almost seemed as if he felt obligated to.

pressing a kiss to your cheek or holding you by the waist to ask if you needed another drink or wanted to play beer pong; but it was always the same answer every time.

a polite no with a fake smile on your lips that he left with a parting kiss before disappearing back into the crowd.

it was getting old and you knew he was starting to feel the disconnect too, the more hazy summer days that passed, but you both ignored it. because the times at his house were nice, you almost felt normal.

kissing and cuddling and talking as you ate.

but you knew that would all fade away eventually.

when there more were people who weren’t just you or his friends and craved something more exciting than just staying in and hanging out.

talk of a beach bonfire weekend had, admittedly, peaked your interest.

it was different than the stuffy houses or sleazy bars you’ve gotten used to over these past few weeks of summer.

now, you got to go to the beach and rent a nice house right by the ocean. be with yeosang and his friends and the people you got to know in a much more tropical and romantic setting.

you drove up with yeosang, yunho and mingi in the latter boy’s jeep, you and yeosang in the back as wind whipped through your hair. you giggle anytime your hair smacks him in the face, eventually being pulled into his chest to stop the assault from happening on his face.

his heartbeat is calming under your ear, his arms wrapped tightly around your body as him and the two boys in front talk over the plans for the weekend.

you’re blissfully unaware of it as you remain close to his body, warm and sticky in the humid air but not caring.

because even despite your problems and disconnect, you still want him near you. you still find comfort in him and you still want to feel loved by him.

“how does that sound?” you hear yeosang mumble in your ear, his breath tickling your skin causing you to hum against him.

“how does what sound?”

“did you fall asleep?” he asks teasingly, nudging you playfully until your faces are a few inches from each other. “i asked if you wanna go on a date tonight when we get there.”

a happy smile crosses your face as you nod eagerly, one breaking out on his too before he places a soft kiss on your lips.

you’re buzzing with a silent excitement the rest of the ride, your hand is his as you play with his fingers and he smiles at you ever so often. holding hands always felt right between you two, like they were made to fit perfectly and acted as a way to ground you both.

your hands stay intertwined when you get to the house, a giant 8-bedroom mansion on the beach that cost you half of your savings - but the view is making it seem worth it.

the waves crashing just a few feet from the back door and causing everyone to storm out of their cars to fight for the best room.

“i want the balcony, please for the love of god! i will do all the dishes during this trip if you guys let me have it.”

“that’s such bullshit,” hongjoong complains, calling wooyoung out on a deal he knows he definitely won’t abide by; but after much nearly 30 minutes of whining and a written contract stuck to the fridge, it was decided.

wooyoung gets the room with the balcony in exchange for dishes duty, a fair exchange you think given the view.

your and yeosang’s room is the one next to wooyoung, an en-suite and beautiful view of the ocean outside the floor to ceiling windows. your standing there watching the waves crash, bags at your feet and content smile on your face when yeosang wraps his arms around you from behind.

you giggle when he presses his lips to your neck, turning in his hold to immediately meet his for a kiss. it feels like you miss him even though you see him everyday. even though you’ve fallen asleep and woken up next to him for over a month.

“what do you wanna eat tonight?” he mumbles against your lips, pulling back to look at you with a smile on his face and a playful twinge in his eyes. you cock your head to the side as you look up him, shrugging your shoulders because it really doesn’t matter.

you’re just excited for your date.

“i don’t care, i’ll have anything.”

“we’ll find a place then,” he says, pulling you closer to him in a way you already know means something. “you wanna shower before we go?”

“why? do i smell?” you tease, a smirk on his face as he pulls you toward the bathroom wordlessly.

and lucky for both of you, there was a very convenient bench in the shower that had you in there until the mirror was foggy and the water ran cold.

“can you bring us back food?” mingi whined, yeosang rolling his eyes as he caught the boy’s car keys.

“as long as you eat in on plates so wooyoung has to wash the dishes.”

“hey!”

“deal.”

a smile spreads across your face as you wave goodbye to all the boys, wearing a pretty new dress you’ve been wanting to wear for weeks. yeosang takes your hand and interlaces your fingers together, shouts of “bye” and “have fun lovebirds,” echoing through the house.

the restaurant is right on the beach with outdoor seating, twinkle lights lining the space with the quiet chatter of people and gentle crash of waves. you and yeosang are play footsie under the table as you look over the menu, shy smiles and coy narrowed eyes beuing thrown at each other.

it’s been a while since things have felt this natural and easy between you two but you think you both needed it. the casual conversation, the airy chuckles and giggles, the warm feeling in the middle of your chest when you catch him looking at you lovingly.

“you look beautiful, baby. are you excited for this weekend?”

a faint blush covers your cheeks as you look up at him, twirling the spaghetti on your fork as you nod your head.

“yeah. we’re going to the beach tomorrow, right?”

“yeah,” he says, popping a piece of steak into his mouth. “and then we’re gonna meet changbin and them at a bar. his friend’s parents own it so we’ll be able to get in.”

“oh... okay,” you hum after a few seconds, quietly picking at our food and feeling yeosang’s eyes on you.

“what?”

you look up and meet his gaze, the sweet, softness gone and replaced with something you’re not quite able to make out. you feel nerves in the pit of your stomach, taking a deep breath before you plaster a smile on your face.

“nothing. that’ll be fun.”

“you think?” he asks, eyebrow quirked and a happy smile on his face; he was hoping you liked going out and meeting his friends more. he loves showing you off and having you by his side but in the beginning, it always seemed like you didn’t wanna be there.

he’s happy you’re coming around to it now, wanting his girlfriend by his side and having fun with him too.

“yeah,” you lie through your teeth, the smile on your face a complete contrast to your feelings inside.

when did he stop knowing when your smile was fake? or thinking that you actually wanted to go out? couldn’t he see all the time you were pushing yourself to be there for him, just for him to leave you alone?

“i think we’ll have fun,” you lie again, having a terrible feeling that this weekend getaway might be the thing that breaks you and yeosang completely.

because your relationship is already fragile and neither of you are acknowledging it. you just keep kissing and giggling and playing footsie under the table, looking like the perfect couple you truly once were in the beginning.

friday morning it seemed as if maybe things were gonna be okay.

you woke up to yeosang kissing your face, forehead to cheek to cheek to nose until he peppered them down your neck and a tired whine left you. he smiled against your skin, his lowly mumbled ,”good morning, baby,” making your stomach flutter first thing.

the moment was quickly over, open mouthed kisses and his tongue slipping past yours, when wooyoung and mingi bursted through the door, dramatic yelps leaving them as they ran out covering each other’s eyes.

“i cannot believe you kiss him in the morning,” wooyoung said an hour later, all eight of you walking down to the beach.

the cooler was packed and ready, fully prepared for a day in the sun and pregaming for the bar later tonight.

“why?” you ask, a smile pulling at your lips at the look of disgust on his face.

“multiple reasons but his breath being the first! isn’t it disgusting? there’s no way he doesn’t wake up with rank breath, y/n, i just don’t believe it.”

an arm wraps around your waist from behind, your boyfriend’s hand craning your face back so he can peck another long, lingering kiss on your mouth; wooyoung’s gags in the back cause you to smile against him.

“you better be careful talking about rank breath,” yeosang says when he pulls away, eyes right on wooyoung who’s wearing a look of shock and hurt.

“i don’t have bad breath.”

“i can smell you right now. did you even bring a toothbrush?”

“he actually didn’t,” jongho quips, wooyoung’s head snapping toward his as you and yeosang suppress your laughter - one of you better than the other.

“it’s all he kept talking about in the car. sick fuck even asked to use to mine but that is just too-”

“oh wow, look at the waves! c’mon, y/n, you said you wanted to play in them!”

wooyoung grabs your hand before you’re able to say anything, giggling as he drags you down the hot sand. you throw down your bag and look back at yeosang with a smile, his hand waving you off as he picks up your belongings.

mingi and san join you both a few minutes later, the water making your feet numb in the wet sand.

you don’t know how long it takes all four of you to fully immerse yourself in the water - at least thirty minutes if you had to guess. but once you got in, you guys didn’t wanna get out.

the waves were harsh and crashed down on you viscously but that was part of the fun. diving into the water and letting the salt water soak up into your skin and hair. it was even better that there was no gross seaweed, the four of you attempting to play toothpaste despite the major difficulty.

but with how much time past, pruny fingers and soaked hair, you didn’t expect the others to already be shit-faced. it was barely noon and you could tell immediately that yeosang, hongjoong and jongho were well on there way to getting obliterated tonight.

you have sinking suspicions it’s because changbin and his friends are also here; and when their two friend groups are together, nothing could comes of it.

they’re all fun and sweet and care for one another but they also build off of each other - enable each other’s young, college drinking habits and rowdy behavior.

“b-baby, c’mere,” yeosang slurs when he sees you, wrapping you up in a towel and pulling you on his lap.

you land on his lap with a plop, smiling and saying hello to the others. you can smell the alcohol on yeosang’s breath but he’s always in good spirits. always laughing and smiling and making jokes that, usually, his drinking isn’t a problem.

it’s not something you particularly enjoy or can relate to but he’s never been a  mean drunk.

not until today.

“you look really good today, you know that?” he mumbles lowly in your ear, the new, red bikini you brought clinging to your body in all the right ways. you were slightly embarrassed to wear it today but decided to go for it because you thought you looked nice in it and spent $70 on it.

you looked up at him with an embarrassed flush on your cheeks, elbowing him lightly as he wraps his arms around your waist. his fingers toy with the edge of your bikini under the towel, your eyes widening when you feel what he’s trying to do.

“yeosang,” you whisper harshly, keeping your voice low but firm as you smack his hand over the towel.

“what,” he whines lowly, eyes roaming the area to see everyone either going to the water or chatting amongst themselves. “you’re covered, baby. i wouldn’t let anyone see what’s mine.”

“are you crazy,” you whisper as you peek your face up at him. “we’re already drinking underage on the beach yeosang. you can’t finger me in public either.”

“who said i was gonna finger you?” he mumbles, a smirk on his face and teasing in his voice; but you don’t find this funny. you don’t find him being this drunk and touchy at noon is funny. “you’re getting ahead of yourself now, baby.”

“why are you getting this drunk at noon, yeosang? we’re going out tonight too, unfortunately.”

“unfortunately?” he asks, craning his neck down to look at you. “i thought you were excited.”

“i was so excited for the beach,” you tell him quietly. “i thought you would come in the ocean with us.”

because you wanted to spend that time with him. have the jeuvnile fun you used to have when you’d go on drives to the beach at night and freeze your asses off on the sand.

“you looked like you were having enough fun with wooyoung and san,” he mumbles, something darker and sarcastic in his voice that makes you turn in his lap and look at him.

his eyes are glassy and teasing but not in the light hearted way. they look almost vengeful, like he’s jealous or feeling left out the same way you’ve been; but you’re always sitting there, at parties or at bars or in your room, waiting for him.

how doesn’t he see that?”

“that’s because you’ve been with everyone else. you’re always with everyone else and you leave me behind.”

“what are you even talking about?” he sneers, keeping his voice low but full of bite. “you come everywhere with me like my damn shadow, y/n. how do i leave you behind? i couldn’t if i tried.”

his words make you physically recoil, his lap now longer feeling comfortable and inviting but cold. the hurt is evident on your face and in your heart and he’s just looking at you like he’s ready to have a full on argument, his eyebrow raised and glossy eyes wide.

like he’s waiting for you to say something just so he can respond and hurt you.

there’s a long, lingering silence between you two, the laughter of others surrounding you despite the way tears are burning your eyes. a screech of your name pulls you away, looking at san and mingi where the shorter boy is holding his foot above the sand.

“can you come back with us? i cut my foot.”

some silly part of you expects yeosang to tell them to leave you alone. that you spent your time with them and now it’s his turn to be with you. but he doesn’t say a word, just bounces his knee as if to tell you to get off and it feels as if your heart drops into your stomach.

you swallow the growing lump in your throat, throwing the towel back on yeosang and rising toyour feet to help san.

“sure,” you tell the boy quietly, not looking back at yeosang once as you make your way up to the house.

you clean san’s foot on the counter in the kitchen, getting off all the dirt and dust with an alcohol pad as he whines in pain.

“it’s not that bad,” you mumble, mingi nodding in agreement as san narrows his eyes at both of you.

you’re strangely quiet, more quiet than usual, and mingi can’t help but notice the sad look on your face; you’d been so happy in the water and when you first got to the beach.

“did you and yeosang fight?”

you look up at mingi to see his eyes on you, soft and sweet and looking over you gently. it makes the weepy, emotional part in you wanna cry but you refuse, letting the dramatic tears burn your eyes at you shake your head.

“are you sure? you look sad.”

“no, i’m okay, i’m just tired,” you say, sending a small smile his way that is obviously fake. “the water and sun always tire me out.”

san and mingi accept your answer as you finish covering san’s food, slapping a band-aid on his heel and smiling (the smallest hint of a real smile) as he kisses your cheek in thanks.

you watch outside the window as yeosang sits in his chair, all the boys in a circle with their cups full of beer and throwing their heads back in laughter. you can hear their banter and harsh words through the open glass, not a single part of you wanting to go back out there.

you’d much rather sit in the bath or take a nap, rid yourself of the image of yeosang’s harsh words and annoyed eyes.  

“y/n?” san says, your eyes snapping to his concerned face - how long had he been calling you?

“c’mon, we’re going back,” he says, extending his arm down to you. “we used to play this olympic game when we were kids and we wanna try again.”

a smile pulls at your lips at his statement, picturing all of them as crazy kids running up and down the beach playfully. but now you don’t wanna go back out there, especially since you have to go out later with them.

“i kind of wanna take a nap before we go out tonight,” you tell the boys, looks of horror crossing their faces.

“what? we’re not going out till 7. it’s only 1:30, y/n.”

“i know but i’m gonna take a bath, too. the tub is really big.”

the dejected frowns on mingi and san almost make you crack but they eventually let it go, insisting that if you can’t fall asleep to come back out so you can all go back in the ocean.

you watch them walk back to the group from the door, eyes lingering over yeosang who’s smiling and laughing with his big group of friends. he always looks most comfortable like that, in a big group of people where everyone looks to him and laughs, giving him the attention he used to look for from you.

but things change apparently. you don’t know how or when or why neither of you have acknowledged it but it’s obvious that somewhere along the line, things had changed.

“where’s y/n?” seonghwa’s voice asked, pulling yeosang from his discussion as he sees mingi and san walking back to the group.

“she said she’s tired,” san answers with a frown, a scoff leaving yeosang that has the dirty blonde side eyeing him. “she might come back down after she takes a nap.”

“she won’t,” yeosang says, taking a sip from his beer before throwing the glass bottle into the garbage bag; san and mingi side eye each other, catching the dark look that seonghwa throws the boy’s way.

“can someone get me another one?”

you woke to the sound of yeosang shuffling around in his bag, eyes fluttering open to see a towel wrapped around his waist. your eyes roamed over is body, a flat, toned stomach and muscular arms that now had a red su burn on them.

“did you put on sunscreen?”

he jumped slightly despite your quiet tone, meeting your tired gaze and bedridden hair as he nods his head. he places a pair of jeans and a t-shirt on the bed, undressing in front of you as you keep your gaze on him.

“did you sleep well?”

you can’t read his expression or tone at all right now and it unsettles you greatly; so you only nod, sitting up and stretching your arms up and over your head.

“are you coming out with us?”

your eyes narrow and that same sad feling plummets in your stomach again. how it feels like your heart’s falling down further and further.

“um... why wouldn’t i?”

“because it doesn’t seem like you want to.”

“then should i just sit here by myself?”

silence fills the room as you both just stare at each other blankly, the hurt behind your eyes and the annoyance behind his far too palpable. you wonder if he’s gonna say anything in response or just leave the out the bedroom door, quirking an eyebrow up in the quietness.

“we’re leaving in 30,” is all he says, voice still short and eyes still tight as he turns around and leaves. mingi and san sneak through the door, most definitely eavesdropping, as they run over and plop on your bed.

“you didn’t come back.”

“you guys definitely fought.”

you let out a sigh as you look to mingi, an apologetic smile on his face as he pats your shoulder reassuringly. his hand moves to your hair, lacing his fingers through it before a knot stops him.

“i was sleeping, okay,” you grumble, a deep laugh leaving him as he pulls you up and off the bed.

“we’re leaving soon so get ready. we’re just gonna dance and have fun. i promise.”

and so similiar to the beach outing, the first few hours were fun.

the music was good, it wasn’t too crowded and you even didn’t mind the taste of your strawberry daiquiri. you danced with san, mingi and wooyoung until your feet were killing and your throat felt parched.

you went up to the bar for a water, needing to yell your order over the voices of people as you realize just how crowded it got. your eyes scan the bar for yeosang, seeing him in the corner where the big group resides.

your eyes meet form across the room, a small smile on your face as you wave to him.

you know he sees you, you know you two definitely make eye contact and that he could tell it was you, but he doesn’t acknowledge you in the slightest. only hyunjin and jisung do, yelping your name from across the bar and ushering you over eagerly.

you hesitantly make your way over, a polite smile on your face. there’s a few people you don’t recognize but there’s a lot of people you do, trying to keep that in mind as you approach the table closer and say hi to everyone.

“y/n! where have you been?”

“dancing with san and mingi,” you tell them. “wooyoung, too, but we kept losing him.”

“he’s too friendly for his own good,” jisung says, his eyes roaming you and yeosang before back to you. “where are they now?”

“not sure, maybe outside.”

“cool. stay with us for a bit.”

you’re hesitant but find yourself nodding anyway, your arm grazing yeosang who’s standing next to you. you look to him and he’s talking to a few guys across the table, hyunjin calling your name twice before you notice.

the whole time you’re talking to them, you can’t help but notice how yeosang seems to be avoiding you. giving you the cold shoulder like you’re a random stranger in a bar and not his girlfriend.

and the longer it goes on, the worse you feel. trying to carry on the conversation but becoming more and more aware of yeosang’s distance; and you’re not the only one who’s noticed.

“yo, yeosang,” jisung says, the black-haired boy snapping his head toward the boy. he nods his head toward you, your neck craning toward yeosang and face dropping when the boy begins to speak again.

“is there any reason you’re ignoring your girlfriend?” he asks, humor in his tone.

“what do you mean?” the boy asks, his eyes moving to yours, the same unreadable expression in them.

“you haven’t looked at her once. are you guys even still dating?”

“surprisingly,” the drunken man quips sarcastically.

your face drops and it’s like he knows it, looking at you with a roll of his eyes.

“i was kidding, y/n,” he huffs, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into him. he reeks of alcohol and cologne, keeping you under his arm before continuing his conversation.

the entire time, it’s like you’re not even there. he doesn’t once acknowledge you or try to include you in the conversation. just keeps you there as if your his shadow, something he’s not even aware ad that he doesn’t pay any mind to.

you thought you’ve been dramatic over these past few months. maybe being too sensitive or too emotional or maybe even asking too much from him. but it’s like he doesn’t even want you here.

he hasn’t looked your way once and neither of you acknowledged the way you snapped at each other before. your communication has gone down the toilet, all of your feelings brewing while his seem to be nonexistent.

you move out from under his arm, no one, not even him, noticing when you mumble that you’re going to the bathroom.

tears burn your eyes the entire time, feeling stupid and left out and annoying, like you have no place here and just have to be attached to someone who doesn’t want you or yeosang’s friends.

you grip the sink and take a few calming breaths, looking up at the mirror when you hear the door open.

a drunken girl comes in and smiles upon seeing you, her face immediately dropping before she makes her way over to you.

“oh no, what’s wrong?” she asks with a frown on her face, her eyes roaming yours carefully as her hands grip your arms comfortingly. “you look like you’re about to cry.”

you almost laugh at the fact that this random stranger is the one noticing that you’re upset when you were just beside your boyfriend. you only shake your head and promise her that you’re okay, a pathetic excuse of a smile plastered on your face.

but the same way a person breaks down when someone asks if they’re okay, you do when you try to assure her that you are. that you and your boyfriend are in a great place and you feel completely happy here with him.

“just... stupid stuff with my boyfriend,” you eventually mutter out, a small tear escaping your eye that causes her frown to deepen. “i feel silly and dramatic but i don’t know.. i feel like he’s been ignoring me. we’ve been so weird these past few months and it doesn’t seem like he even loves me anymore.”

“leave his ass, are you crazy,” she asks without hesitation, wiping at your tears with a sympathetic smile on her face. “you’re beautiful and he’s not worth crying over. no boy is. because that what he is. a boy. a stupid boy, in fact.”

a wet, strangled giggle leaves your mouth despite the tears streaming down your face, watching as she takes a paper towel and dabs at your face.

“you’re gonna mess up your makeup so no more crying!” she says happily, bouncing up and down with her legs crossed. “leave his ass and have fun, sweet girl! i’m about to pee my pants now.”

another giggle leaves your mouth as you thank her sweetly, wiping at your face and smiling when she lets out a heavy sigh of relief. you take a deep breath, trying to take her words to heart but far too aware of the upset in your stomach.

how leaving him seems like the most painful thing ever. how you don’t even wanna do that because you guys haven’t talked about anything yet. all these problems could be in your own head for all you know, you two haven’t had any sort of discussion.

but it doesn’t help that he doesn’t even seem receptive.

he has been ignoring you and making you feel left out. he brings you along just to leave you when he knows you’re only coming for him; even on the nights you guys stay in, it’s obvious he wants to be out partying.

why can’t it be more fair? are you asking for too much or is he just being inconsiderate?

you walk out of the bathroom to se the corner of bar empty, only jisung and hyujin lingering. the taller boy meets your gaze and the two make their way over, letting you know that they went to the bar outside.

“oh... okay, thanks for letting me know,” you thank softly, a small smile lighting up your face.

they both wear their own sympathetic smile, hyunjin shaking his head at jisung when they make eye contact. there’s a few moments of an awkward silence, you looking between them both before jisung opens his mouth to speak again.

“yeosang was saying some fucked up shit, y/n. i just wanted you to know.”

“han...”

“no, hyunjin, they’ve been together for a long time and he knows her best. that wasn’t cool.”

your stomach plummets at the words leaving the boy, the tears you just got rid of burning the back of your eyes again.

“what... what did he say?”

“it wasn’t anything that bad, we were just shocked. you guys usually seemed so happy and in love and it was just-”

“he said it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if you guys broke up. and that if you wanted to, he wouldn’t be too opposed.”

the look on your face must give it all away, tears filling your eyes as you feel yourself ready to bolt. you will not be the girl who cries publicly in a bar, looking like a hot, red-faced mess because your boyfriend decided to be an asshole.

“he’s shit faced, y/n,” hyunjin says immediately, his stomach turning at your tears; he hates when people cry, especially girls. “he only said it because he thinks that’s where you guys are headed. said you guys have felt very disconnected since school ended.”

and while it helps to hear that you haven’t been the only one feeling that way, it still hurts you.

because it doesn’t seem like he wants to fight for you and he hasn’t said anything to you. he’s just ignoring you, making you feel worse and worse with the occasional kiss or whispered sweet nothing.

you think the worst part is that, eve if you guys did break up, he wouldn’t be sad about it. he’d just move on without any qualms and think of you as the girl he dated during his freshmen year of college.

but he was much more to you than that.

he was your first love. the first boy you allowed in and let yourself trust. gave yourself to in the most intimiate way and found solace in him despite your differences.

those differences seem to be your downfall right now - with one similarity that, apparently, both of you suck at communication.

you don’t even realize you’re turning around and leaving the bar until you hear your name being called behind you, walking out in the warm night air and heading toward the beach.

you just keep walking and walking and walking, until there’s nothing but silence and the waves crashing around you.

he knows he shouldn’t care this much.

he knows that it’s not his place and that the boy next to him should be the one worrying and concerned about where you are.

but yeosang doesn’t seem to care at all, switching from beers to shots in a decision seonghwa made hours ago to stay away from.

he can’t stop his eyes from moving to the door ever so often, waiting for your hair or smiling face to walk through and flood him with some relief; but when he sees mingi, san, and wooyoung come in without you, he’s not sure he can hold off any longer.

“yeosang,” seonghwa says, voice deep with his usual bite. “where’s y/n?”

“i don’t know,” he slurs out, not even bothering to look around or observe the crowd. “probably with mingi or san.”

“no, they’re out here, too.”

“i don’t know hwa, why do you care?” he growls in annoyance, downing another shot to dull out the sound your name and all the concerns he has. coming to terms with the fact that you guys are changing and he doesn’t know how to deal with it.

“because she’s missing, yeosang. no one has seen her or is with her.”

he’s getting more and more irritated at his friends attitude, the way it seems like he couldn’t give less of a shit about where his girlfriend is. especially when he knows you get uncomfortable in this setting.

“i’m her boyfriend, hwa, and i know she’s fine. so fucking drop it. she’s around here somewhere.”

but that answer doesn’t quell the worry in seonghwa, the dirty blonde rolling his eyes at the endless horror stories plaguing his mind. they’re underage at a crowded bar with sleazy drunks and cops lurking - there are far too many things that could go wrong.

“then act like it, dickhead.”

yeosang just rolls his eyes, turning his attention back to the group and dismissing seonghwa and the conversation completely. he doesn’t know how they can talk about his girlfriend missing to something as mundane as video games, seonghwa getting up with a huff and walking back into the bar.

he checks around the whole bar twice, nearing 1 a.m so the building is at its maximum capacity. but even then, he checks everywhere and doesn’t see you; he even asks girls waiting on line to the bathroom to see if you’re in there, unaware of the dreamy look in their eyes as they nod and hang on to every word he says.

“no one named y/n was in there,” they said a few moments later, an apologetic look on her face before she smiled flirtily. “did you lose your girlfriend?”

he rolls his eyes and thanks them politely, not giving her the time to give him some cheesy pick up line before he’s outside.

it’s warm with such a slight breeze coming off the ocean, looking up and down the block before the beach catches his eye. there’s a few people walking in the distance and he thinks it’s worth a shot, walking away from the bar and going down to the cold, grainy sand.

he’s walking for twenty minutes, about to turn around as he wonders why the hell he’s even looking for you, when he hears soft cries.

he can barely hear them over the sound of the waves but he definitely hears them, squinting his eyes in the distance to see a figure hunched over with their face in their hands.

he can tell you it’s you when he’s a few feet away, the way your hair’s falling and dress is riding up your legs. he swallows thickly, relief flooding through him as he looks over your figure quietly.

he could tell you and yeosang were having problems, could tell you’ve been having them for a few months by how often you and him would hang out at parties, but it seemed as if they were getting worse these days.

he saw it on the beach this morning, the way you went from smiling and laughing to disappearing inside the house. it bothered him then but he knew he shouldn’t butt in, waiting until you guys figured it out or handled things on your own.

but now he can’t just sit back anymore.

he’s seeing changes in his younger friend that he doesn’t enjoy; his drinking, his attitude, the way he’s treating you 90% of the time. and tonight had been the last straw for him, his blatant disconcern for you and your wellbeing completely rubbing him the wrong way.

he continues to approach you quietly, the sound of his footsteps in the sand causing you to look up.

the faint glow from the streetlights and moon cast light on him, calming you immediately as you look up at him. you feel the wet tears on your face but could care less at the moment, sending him a small broken smile that makes you feel pathetic.

seonghwa is similiar to mingi and san in the aspect that he’s able to tell something’s off between you and yeosang. not because he’s nosy (in the most concerned way) like the two younger boys but because he sees it.

watches you at parties and is usually the person sitting beside you on the couch while yeosang’s off doing whatever.

he moves slow and cautious, sitting down on the sand next to you silently. you can feel the heat radiating off his arm, not quite touching you but just a few inches away.

you’re no longer crying but tears are still on your face, leaving you wet and sticky and most definitely tear-stained.

“i don’t know what i did, seonghwa.”

the dirty blonde looks your way when you finally break the silence between you two, seeing your tooth in your lip and eyes strained on the dark, starry sky.

“we’ve been so weird ever since the semester ended and it’s only getting worse. i- i know that’s just how he is but he was like that in the beginning too but he would never ignore me. i don’t know what i did or why he started but it feels like we’re on our way to breaking-”

you can’t even say the words because it’s not something you’re ready to do. you still love him and there’s still hints of you guys as a happy couple, the way he holds you and kisses you and looks at you sometimes.

but the bad is outweighing the god these days and it’s hurting you. hurting you to the point that you’re here, crying on the beach to his best friend who you don’t even realize looks at you a little too long and a little too soft.

and he doesn’t even know what to say to you this moment. because he sees his friend is changing and he sees it’s effecting you; it makes him wanna go back to the bar and punch yeosang in the face, tell him to wake up before someone snatches you away and treats you the way you deserve.

“am i the one being stupid, seonghwa?” you ask again, turning to look at the boy beside you. “do i just have to like... get over it and try for him? try to enjoy all of this and be okay with mingling on my own?”

“you go out with us all the tie, y/n, how are you not trying?”

it’s the softest you’ve ever heard seonghwa’s voice, something about it bringing more tears to your eyes because it’s so obvious that you’re a mess.

“i must not be if he’s being like this. it’s like he doesn’t even know me and he just wants me to leave him alone. he- he even told jisung it wouldn’t be that big of a deal if we broke up, so why am i even crying?”

seonghwa feels rage bubble up in his chest at the thought of yeosang saying that, cracking his knuckles one by one until he’s facing you again. he doesn’t get how he can’t see what he’s doing to you or how he doesn’t care.

“he’s been different these past few months, i’ve seen it too, y/n, so it’s not you,” he assures gently, waning to reach out and touch your hand form comfort. “he’s just... i don’t know what the fuck he’s doing but he shouldn’t be taking it out on you.”

you let out a sigh as you hide your face in your knees, tears leaking from your eyes again as quiet sobs leave you.

you feel seonghwa’s hand on your back a few seconds later, moving up and down slowly as you fall into him. you both just sit there on the sand, you crying and him silently comforting you as you try to make sense of this mess.

because even right now, with you gone and not saying a word, he doesn’t care. he’s not calling or texting or going to look for you. he just don’t seem to care at all.

“please don’t cry, y/n,” he mumbles quietly, his thumb moving up and down your skin gently.

but his words don’t help in the slightest. you just muffle your cries until you can’t anymore, peeking your head up as you wipe the wetness off your face.

“i’m sorry,” you mutter, feeling embarrassed to have just cried your eyes out for god knows how long; but seonghwa doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest, shrugging his shoulders with a small smile on his lips.

“you don’t have to apologize,” he reassures gently, sending a small smile his way.

you watch his eyes roam your face, dark eyes piercing yours in a way that you once found so intimidating. but you’ve gotten to know him so well and know how sweet he is.

how much he looks out for his people and that he’d really do anything for anyone.

“what?” you ask, feeling self conscious and seen. “are there tears on my face?”

“just a few,” he teases, reaching across to dab at the reamining wetness. you smile softly as he tocuhes your skin, watching him so gently reach over your face.

his warm fingers linger on you for a little too long but you don’t even notice, thanking him softly when he pulls back.

you lean back and are reminded of your first date with yeosang, on the sand that feels familiar and the sky with a bright crescent moon similiar to the one around your neck.

it pulls at something in your heart, how maybe you guys will never be like that again. how the honeymoon phase is just something that isn’t meant to to last htat long maybe.

it’s just a fleeting moment that you’ll remember in times like this, when it feels like you guys are about to fall apart.

tears prick your eyes again, a sigh leaving your mouth as you silently beg yourself not to cry again before seonghwa’s on his feet and reaching his hand down, like he knew you were about to blow.

you look at it with confusion, looking from his hand to his eyes looking down at you expectantly.

“come with me.”

“where are we going?” you ask, taking his hand hesitantly. he pulls you to your feet with ease, keeping you hands intertwined as he turns around and pulls you up the beach silently.

“seonghwa,” you whine, your bare foot tripping over the lumpy sand. he just grips your hand tighter every time you stumble, a quiet chuckle leaving his mouth that makes you narrow your eyes at him.

“you’ll see,” he says, eyeing you back just as sternly. “i past it on my way to find you.”

a dimly lit playground with swings and small, slightly janky jungle gym comes into your view, a smile lighting up your face as you turn to look at seonghwa.

“i don’t know how i missed this,” you tell him, knowing for sure you hd to have passed it on your way to the beach.

“you were too busy crying,” he teases lightly, a snort leaving your mouth as you push him gently. he narrows his eyes and pushes you back playfully, watching as you take off in the sand and plop down on a swing.

he smiles as you wave him over, moving the swing and pumping your legs as you hold your arms out to him. he walks over, leaning his head against the chain of the swing next to you watching you sit there and smile up at him.

“push me,” you ask sweetly, his eyes narrowing slightly. “please,” you add, wide glassy eyes and a sweet smile that renders him unable to resist. his warm hands rest on your back as he pushes you higher and higher, your eyes looking out into the ocean and sky as memories wrack your brain.

“when... when did you get that?!” you yelp, moving closer to his larger, warmer body to get a good look at it. “i didn’t even see you pick it up!”

“i was sneaky, right?” he teases with a wink, guiding you by the waist to sit down before placing the basket between you.

you barely notice the harsh gust of wind because of your excitement and surprise, yeosang’s hands draping a blanket around your shoulders before you can even shiver.

“i even packed the food. i didn’t really know how to be sneaky for that so it was pure luck that you went to the bathroom.”

and low and behold, when he opens up the white, woven basket, all the food you got was packed in perfectly. plates and utensils were strapped to the top with two small cups next to the array of fruits, cookies, and several ingredients for sandwiches.

you both happened to like cheese ones, your hands grazing and soft giggles leaving when you both reached for it in the frozen section.

“i... i can’t believe you did this,” you mumble quietly, feeling far more touched and happy than you’re willing to let on. “this is so cute. thank you, yeosang.

you shake your head from the memories, looking back to see seonghwa still pushing you with a content smile on his face. you stretch you legs to reach the ground, slowing down until you jump off.

you topple on the sand a little bit, seonghwa calling your name with a chuckle and watching as you steady yourself out. you turn to him with a smile, looking up at him in a way that causes his heart to jump in his chest.

he knows he has to ignore though. because problems or not, broken up or not, you’re still his best friend’s girlfriend.

but it doesn’t stop him from frolicking in the sand with you. following you as the playful spirit comes out from zipping down the slide or climbing on top of the monkey bars.

he grabs your leg that hangs off from the monkey bars, your whiney “seonghwa!” echoing through the quiet night air. his laugh causes a smile to light up your face, the two of you in the playground until your body is weak and you’re laid out on the sand.

seonghwa checks his phone to see it’s almost 3:00, wondering aloud if their friends are back from the bar.

and that’s the reality check you need. remembering that your boyfriend’s ignoring you, you don’t know he you did and his best friend is the one here - comforting you, making you laugh and keeping your mind off all the things that are making you sad in the first place.

it’s a very sobering thought that makes your smile fall off your face, jumping up from your spot in the sand as you look at seonghwa.

“i... we should get back then,” you hear yourself say. “i didn’t realize it was that late.”

it’s the reality check seonghwa needed to, that he shouldn’t be the one making you laugh and smile while your heart and mind are still plagued by yeosang. so he nods his head, rising to his feet and looking down at you for a few seconds.

you feel a lump form in your throat at the look he gives you, butterflies threatening to erupt in your stomach as his eyes roam every inch of your face. eyes to your hair to your nose to your lips, his tongue peeking out before he nods his head down toward the beach.

"lets go, then,” he says, ignoring the slightly dejected feeling in his stomach he knows he shouldn’t have. “they might be back by now.”

you guys walk back to the house in silence, arms bumping ever so often in a way that both of you try to ignore. because even if this felt right, even if your time with seonghwa always feels so right and easy, it feels right with yeosang too.

and it’s not like you can just have them both.

gong home to an empty house was incredibly sobering.

your bed was cold, the house was quiet and you had to muffle stupid, disappointed cries into your pillow until you fell asleep.

but there was someone else sitting in the living room, waiting for the moment his friends come back so he can tear his one drunken asshole of a friend a new asshole.

and that’s exactly what he did when he heard the front door open, wooyoung and san’s loud “heeellloo!” echoing through the house causing his head to snap toward the door.

the boys shuffle in, saying their hi’s to seonghwa as they filter in the kitchen and start to raid the cabinets for food. yeosang’s the last to get through the door, his stumbling to a minimum and glassy eyes observing the house carefully.

seonghwa feels his jaw clench, the two boys meeting eyes as the black-haired boy approaches him quickly.

“did you find her?”

“how’d you know i went looking?”

“do you think i’m a fucking idiot?”

seonghwa clenches his jaw again, cracking his tension-filled neck as he looks at his friend. the boys hold a dark, intense eye contact that goes ignored by the rest of the boys - too consumed by their need for food, drunken ramblings, and wooyoung crying about keeping the dishes to a minimum so he doesn’t have to wash them hungover tomorrow.

“she was on the beach crying,” seonghwa eventually bites back, looking at his friend with every hint of disdain and anger. “heard that you said it wouldn’t even matter if you guys broke up or not.”

“that fucking jisung,” yeosang grumbles, seonghwa rolling his eyes and getting up from the couch. he feels yeosang falling behind him, half tempted to tell him to piss off before they’re both just outside the dirty blonde’s room.

“what are you so mad about? she’s my girlfriend, yeosang.”

“and you’re treating her like shit, yeosang. you have been for months. leaving her all the time, barely spending time with her, do you even notice how much she fucking hates going to those?”

“but she still does?” yeosang says, face pulled into confuson and irritaiton - he doesn’t like the way he’s feeling attacked and defesnive. “i never force her to go.”

“obviously she’s gonna go for you,” seonghwa growls, confused as to how his friend is so stupid and blind about this. “because she loves you, yeosang.”

“i love her, too,” he says, “she knows how much i love her.”

the look soenghwa gives him cause his eyes to narrow, anger spiking in him as he pushes his frined back. seognhwa’s eyes flare and he has to hold himself back, knowing that he’s already not in a spot to fight over you.

“and if i didn’t know any better, i’d think you loved her too. running to her rescue right away and nearly ripping my head off before.”

seonghwa doesn’t know what to say so he doesn’t say anything, the silence doing more than words could at this point. and even drunk, yeosang knows what it means. can see in seonghwa’s face and body language that he has nothing to say because, yeah, he might love her, too.

“bullshit,” yeosang blurts out, a look of shock and horror on his face. seonghwa only shrugs his shoulders, attempting to walk away from yeosang before he pulls his friend back roughly.

“are you kidding me? y/n? out of every woman in this world?”

“i don’t know, yeosang, okay. it just fucking happened. i wasn’t ever gonna say anything to either of you.”

“wow, how noble of you. but you run off to save her when we get ino a fight.”

“because you were being a dick and she was upset,” seonghwa growls back, balling his fists in a similiar fashion to yeosang. “but i didn’t say anytihng to her. i just called you an asshole and said you were changing. not that she should leave you for me, although i’ve been tempted to steal her from you.”

a laugh of disbelief leaves yeosang, his head shaking as he looks over his friend.

“you’ve got fucking balls.”

and if it were anyone else saying this to him, they’d be beaten to a bloody pulp. but yeosang knows seonghwa would never make a move on you, actively try to steal you and get you away from him even if he wanted to.

he even had sinking suspicos that he had feelings for you, catching the way he’d look at you or his gaze would linger for just a little too lnog.

but he trusts his friend and he trusts you.

he was just the idiot now, acting as if you ddin’t mean the world to him and he doesn’t love you more than anyone else in this world.

“i’m gonna go apologize to her,” yeosang says, his gaze meeting seonghwa and making the dirty blonde nod his head. “thanks for taking care of her.”

the dirty blonde only nods his head, dread pooling in the pit of his stomach as he watches him walk out the room and go to you.

yeosang walks in to se your sleeping form on the bed, creeping over to his bag and cringing at the sound of his zipper in the quiet room.

you wake to the sound of shuffling toward the door, eyes peeking open to see yeosang with his shirt off and slipping on pajama pants. he makes his way over to the bed, your eyes closing quickly as you attempt to keep your breaths even.

you think his soft chuckle is a sign that you’ve gotten caught, keeping up the act as the bed dips and he’s sitting beside you, running his fingers through your hair gently.

“i’m sorry, baby, i’m so sorry,” he hums quietly, keeping his eyes on you as a knot forms in his throat.

he hadn’t reaalized how much he’d been neglected you this summer.

how often he was leaving you and just being assured by the fact that you always had someone with you - mingi, san, wooyoung, even seonghwa, although that proved to be slightly dangerous now.

“i know you’re mad, love, but i’ll be better. i was shit faced when i said that to jisung and hyunjin.”

your eyes peak open, seeing his soft, apologetic eyes that makes a frown appear on his lips. your hand reaches up to touch his face, his skin smooth and slight sticky from the humid summer air.

“are you shit faced now? will you even remember this tomorrow?” you ask quietly, still hurt by his words and the way he acted.

he takes your hand from his ace and presses a kiss to each knuckle, shaking his head as he crawls into bed next to you.

“no,” he mumbles, positing himself close to your warm body. “i stopped drinking when no one could find you. your girlfriend going missing tends to sober a guy up.”

a small snort leaves your mouth as you shake your head, meeting his gaze with tired eyes.

“i wasn’t missing, i was on the beach.”

“with seonghwa.”

you bite down on your lip as you nod your head, eyes roaming him carefully. you don’t quite know what to make of his tone or face, choosing to just nod your head in confirmation.

they had to have talked anyway - how else would he have known jisung told you what he said?

“i’m glad he was there for you when i wasn’t,” he mumbles quietly, a sad truth that he has to come to terms with despite knowing seonghwa’s feelings now.

“it’s okay, you’re here now,” you mumble, moving your body closer to his. he smiles against your head, wrapping his arm around you as he presses a kiss to your head.

but you can’t quite shake the feeling of seonghwa being there for you either.

the way he looked at you so sweetly and made you feel better with just his presence. his hold on you strong and gaze so soft, you can’t help but wonder if, somehow, you’ve also somehow fallen for yeosang’s best friend.

november - sophomore year

if someone told you over the summer that in four months, you’d be living with seonghwa and yeosang, you would’ve called them crazy. asked how the hell that arrangement came to be because why would a single man choose to live with a couple in the first place?

but really, the arrangement stemmed from all of you just having terrible luck.

you had started sophomore year on a terrible foot, not securing a single room this semester and getting a roommate you knew from the moment you met was gonna be a nightmare.

she was not only incredibly rude but messy. 

her clothes littered every inch of the floor by the second week of class and her boyfriend would come over at all hours of the day; you understood it was her room too but hearing them try (and fail) to have quiet sex at 2 a.m was not only disturbing but left you exhausted most weekdays.

“i can’t keep doing it,” you whined to yeosang, laid on top of him in his bed.

it was ironic that his apartment, the one with seven hyper active boys you once thought was the loudest place on earth, was now your place of solace.

it was where you went on weekends to get a good night sleep, not only quiet with no interruptions but incredibly comfortable with your head in boyfriend’s warm chest.

“i’m telling you, baby, ask to get a new room,” he says, a frown on his face at the bags under your eyes. 

his fingers swipes under your purple skin and you close your eyes at his gentle touch, always about ready to fall asleep when you’re with him.

“i did, they don’t have anything,” you whine, burying your face deeper into his chest. “i was even looking at apartments off campus but they’re all too expensive.”

yeosang quirks an eyebrow when he hears you say that, biting down on his lip as he contemplates telling you his idea.

because even before your terrible roommate dilemma, he’d been playing with the idea of asking you to move in together. you guys have almost been together for a year and this summer, even with the bumps in the road, had been nice.

waking up and going to sleep together every day had been the best part for him.always being with you and going about your day still with each other. food shopping, furniture shopping, even just watching tv in silence together.

he wanted more of that with you.

“why don’t we move in together?”

he doesn’t mean to blurt it out so harshly but the words just fall out, your head snapping to him with wide eyes.

“what?”

“i... i know it seems kind of sudden but why don’t we move in together? we can split the rent then,” he says, his arm wrapping around your waist tightly. “we basically lived together this summer and that was nice, wasn’t it?” he hums, grinding his body into yours a little too purposely to be innocent.

you roll your eyes despite the smile pulling at your lips, moving away from his chest to peer up at him.

could he be serious? does he really wanna live with you?

“would you really wanna live with me?” you ask quietly, his eyebrows pulling together at the meekness in your tone.

“of course i would, baby,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to cheek sweetly. “why wouldn’t i?”

but even with his reassurance and sweet words, you still felt reluctantly.

it was a big step that scared you not only for financial reasons but because you know how you are. you couldn’t even have a roommate your first semester of college and now you’re gonna live with someone permanently?

but the more days pass with you living with your roommate, the more you realize you would much rather have yeosang. even if it meant taking a big next step with him as your boyfriend.

you walked up to his apartment ready to tell him you were ready to move in together, that you guys have to start looking immediately before you just insist on sleeping on the bench outside your dorms.

but when you open the door to this house, you’re met with chaos.

absolute, disastrous chaos. 

voices screaming, water everywhere and, most importantly, all of them running around shirtless and packing their bags; you suppose this is why yeosang hadn’t been answering your texts.

“um.. what is happening?” you ask loudly upon entering, all the boys heads snapping to you.

you’re able to make out the words water line breakage, flood, drown to death and parents house, the several loud voices rendering you unable to say or hear  anything properly.

yeosang pushes his way through and explains that their apartment is well on its way to being destroyed, a faulty waterline that the apartment manager didn’t take care of threatening to completely flood the building.

“what? where are you guys supposed to go now?!”

and that right there is how your current situation came about. 

moving into a one bedroom apartment with your boyfriend and his best friend, the black-haired boy looking over seonghwa with a particularly harsh look in his eye.

the rest of them were either able to secure dorm rooms at the boys dormitory or move in with their parents who lived close by - but seonghwa’s parents lived out of state now and the apartment he was one step away from closing on fell through, thus leaving him homeless.

this unsettled yeosang greatly, knowing his best friend was secretly in love with his girlfriend still.

“you’re crazy if you think i’d try anything with her at all, let alone with you fucking here, yeosang, shit.”

“i already told you just to tell her so shit doesn’t have to be awkward,” yeosang said, whisper-yelling as you set up furniture in your shared bedroom.

“telling her would make shit more awkward, she doesn’t have to know,” seonghwa argued back, looking toward the bedroom with a cautious look on his face.

ever since he outed his confession to yeosang this summer, he’d been trying to act like the same. 

distance himself physically but remain there for you emotionally - laugh with you, smile with you, act as a friend to you while not pushing the boundary when it came to how he felt about you.

“i don’t know how she doesn’t,” yeosang says honestly, looking at seonghwa with not a hint of anger in his eyes. “you make it pretty obvious.”

the dirty blonde narrows his eyes at the boy, punching him in the arm lightly before setting up the couch that now doubles as his bed - living like a true single bachelor.

you make your way out of your new bedroom, the house almost completely set up with furniture and decor. 

a frown crosses your face when you see seonghwa setting up the couch with pillows and blankets, poking the cushions with your finger as you look at him.

“seonghwa, are you sure this is gonna be okay? sleeping on a couch isn’t comfortable.”

“it’s a futon, y/n, they’re meant for that,” seonghwa teases, a small smile lighting up his face. “it’ll be fine.”

“but are you sure? what if you start to get-”

“he’ll be fine, baby,” yeosang says from behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle as his eyes bore into seonghwa. “you don’t have to worry about him.”

the dirty blonde rolls his eyes before looking to you, reassuring you with a small smile and nod. he plops down on the couch and adjusts himself comfortably, giving you a thumbs up as he looks you over happily.

“it’s good, i swear. it’s new so i just gotta break it in.”

“maybe you can invite a girl over. finally get laid,” yeosang mocks, seonghwa biting the inside of his cheek so he doesn’t say a snappy comment; but you, you of course, have other ideas about how to break it in.

“that’s a great idea! let’s have a movie night!”

and before the two boys can protest, you’re running off to your room and writing in the group chat for the boys to come over at eight with snacks and a list of scary movies to watch.

“she already runs the show around here, doesn’t she?” yeosang grumbles, a smirk crossing seonghwa’s face as he nods his head.

“duh.”

“duh! you never go back in the house, are they fucking nuts!?” wooyoung shouts hours later, the apartment completely dark apart from the glow of the tv and jongho’s pumpkin pecan waffles candle (the one he insisted on bringing to set the mood).

you share a knowing smile with seonghwa, the dirty blonde finding himself in the worst seat of the house - directly next to a chatty, exuberant wooyoung.

yeosang and hongjoong had jumped up and claimed the chaises of the other couch, you spending the first two and a half movies curled on top of yeosang until your side became numb and you stole mingi’s seat.

now you sat beside seonghwa, bumping his arm lightly and giggling any time he made a passing comment about wooyoung or the movie or anything else he found utterly stupid or loud.

“who do you think would be the first to die?” you whisper to seonghwa, a smirk on his face as he looks over at you. his lips quirk as he thinks, looking over the pile of his friends laid out in his new living room.

he catches yeosang’s eyes on him, the boy watching carefully before he looks back to the screen casually.

“definitely mingi,” seonghwa mumbles in your ear, a smile pulling at your lips as you watch the boy clutch onto a blanket tighter and bury himself closer to yunho. “he’s a coward.

“maybe,” you mutter, a yawn escaping you as you adjust your position on the couch. your curled legs hit seonghwa but neither of you move, pulling the fuzzy white blanket tighter around you.

“but i think it’d be jongho to be honest,” you mumble, tired eyes still focused on the screen as you him and talk hushly. “it’s always the person you’d least expect.”

a small chuckle leaves seonghwa’s mouth as he nods his head in agreement, wishing he could put his arm around you so you could fall asleep against him more comfortably.

but he just keeps his arm and legs against you, watching the movie until he suddenly feels the pressure of your head on his shoulder.

he looks down to see your eyes closed, hair splayed over your face as even breaths leave you. you look so at peace and innocent in your sleep, not even realizing when his hand reaches out to move away the strands.

his eyes move to yeosang’s when he realizes what he’s done, looking to the boy who’s still adamantly watching the movie and chewing on popcorn. he settles himself back and tries to relax, feel the warmth of your body on his and tries not to get to comfortable with how nice it feels to have you against him.

a small whine causes him to look down at you a few moments later, his hand reaching down to rub against your blanket-covered leg calmingly. he barely realizes he’s doing it, not until his phone vibrates next to him and he sees yeosang’s name appear.

his eyes shoot up to see the boy looking at him, jaw clenched and eyebrow raised as he nods his head toward his phone.

yeosang [1:04 a.m.] you’re pushing it dick. try not to look so happy about my gf sleeping on you.

the dirty blonde is quickly humbled, removing his hand from your leg before trining his attention back to the screen; but the scene is one yeosang can’t quite shake off.

not because of something like petty jealously or a bad feeling in his stomach. simply because it reminds him of the first time you fell asleep with him, just a random night where you dozed off on his shoulder and he thought nothing of it.

he was listening to the sound of your breathing, the tv just white noise in the background as his own eyes threatened to close.

you’d only been dating for a few weeks, enjoying the closeness that comes with watching movies as you both stay in for the night. he wasn’t quite sure when you dozed off, he just knew when he asked if you wanted to watch the next part of twilight, you didn’t answer.

(yes, twilight was your idea and no, he doesn’t enjoy it or want to know how edward and bella’s wedding is gonna turn out).

he deices to replay the first one, just noise to have on in the background as he starts to doze off himself.

he’s stirred awake, however, when your body lurches forward, a gasp leaving your mouth as you shoot up from your sleep quickly. his eyes are wide as he looks up at you, thinking you’re on the verge of a panic attack or nightmare and fully prepared to help in any way he can.

but he sees your eyes are more so full of shock, looking at him and the surroundings of his room like you can’t believe you’re still here.

“are you okay? what happened?”

“i... did i fall asleep?

“uh... yeah?”

you look to be in such disbelief, he doesn’t know what to make of it. is it that odd that you would’ve fallen asleep? it’s late and dark and you said you hadn’t slept too great the night before.

you look to see his face pulled in confusion, looking at you with a mix of concern and bewilderment that makes you shake off the weird feeling inside of you.

“sorry, it’s just... i can usually never ever fall asleep around people,” you explain to him, a problem since childhood that rendered you unable to attend sleepovers or even share a room with cousins on family vacations.

your parents and doctors said it was probably just that you weren’t tired but it felt as if they were deep rooted trust issues of some kind. not allowing yourself to be unconscious or unaware in the presence of other people.

but you didn’t realize any of that with yeosang; you’ve never felt as comfortable with anyone as you do with him.

“ever since i was a kid, i could only fall asleep alone. it’s like i was too scared around other people or something,” you chuckle out, a small smirk crossing yeosang’s face as he pecks a kiss to your nose.

“hmm.. guess you just really like and trust me, huh?”

yeosang bites the inside of his cheek as the memory comes back to him, watching as your sleeping figure moves closer to seonghwa with a content look on your face.

he can only smirk at the way seonghwa seems conflicted, looking down at you with the softest, sappiest expression he’s ever seen his colder friend wear before they move to him.

yeosang moves his eyes away, training them back on the terrible scary movie that, for whatever reason, has mingi absolutely shitting his pants.

the black haired boy wakes you up at the end of the movie, sitting on the other side of you and mumbling that he’s gonna bring you to your room. you barely stir so he lifts you up effortlessly, a tired whine leaving you before you smell his familiar scent.

your eyes pop open to see him looking down at you, a sweet smile on his face that causes one to break out across your own face.

“hi.”

“hi, love. you fell asleep.”

you nod tiredly, face red and hair messy as he places you down on the bed gently. you curl up and under the blanket, letting out a tired whine as you hold your arms out with a pout.

he snorts as he joins you immediately, moving in next to you and sighing contently when your head rests on his chest. his hand runs through your hair. gently, slow and calming in a way he knows will quickly put you back to sleep.

but he needs to ask you one thing tonight. he needs to settle this once and for all so he can stop his brain from racing and thoughts from spiraling.

“baby?”

“hm?”

“do you like seonghwa?”

even in a tired daze, the question throws you off.

makes you snap your head up and rest your chin on his chest, eyes narrowed and eyebrows shooting up your forehead as you look at your boyfriend of almost a year.

“what?”

“do you like seonghwa?”

he repeats it like it’s a simple question, so straight forward and casual that you would think he was joking if it wasn’t for how serious his expression is.

“i... you’re my boyfriend, yeosang? why would i like seonghwa?”

he bites his lip at the confused expression on your tired face, twirling a piece of your hair at the top before letting it bounce back.

“was just a question, love.”

you look at him in complete shock and confusion, trying to decipher any anger or jealously on his face.

“is it because i fell asleep on him? i didn’t even know, yeosang, i just-”

“no, baby, no,” he’s quick to assure, his hands cupping your face gently. “it was really just a question, okay? i’m not mad or anything.”

you look at your boyfriend but see nothing but honesty in his eyes, reluctantly nodding your head before resting your head back on his chest. he hums quietly as you close your eyes, his chest feeling different than seonghwa’s but still just as comforting.

you don’t even have the time to wonder why you’re even thinking about that, comparing yeosang and seonghwa’s chests and smells, until you’re fast asleep again.

it took four days for you to finally admit it to yeosang.

and it wasn’t even that you lied at the time he asked - you just didn’t even realize.

you didn’t realize that, for longer than you can remember, you might’ve always had a bit of a crush on seonghwa. entranced by his handsome face and the way he carried himself.

how he always looked out for you and made you feel safe and cared for despite not owing you a thing.

but it wasn’t something that was overwhelmingly noticeable. 

you hadn’t thought about seonghwa when you were with yeosang. you hadn’t wished he was him or that the dirty blonde was the one who let you borrow a pen the first day of college.

but you did eventually come to love seonghwa. 

depend on him and look forward to seeing him and knowing that, if you didn’t have him in your life, your life would feel emptier.

but why had yeosang asked that? did he know before you did? did he see something in the way you looked or acted around his best friend? why wasn’t he mad about it?

“we can have a talk about it if you want,” yeosang said when you confessed all of this to him, sitting on your bed with a heavy pit in your stomach. 

“in fact, i think we’ll definitely have to talk about somethings. but for now... i think you should tell seonghwa.”

and if this whole situation wasn’t bizarre enough, admitting to your boyfriend that you liked another man, that surely did it. your boyfriend telling you to confess your feelings to him even though he was his best friend and you two were very much together.

“what?”

“tell seonghwa that you like him, baby,” he mumbles, his hands holding your face gently. there’s so much confusion and hesitation in your eyes he almost wants to laugh but he supposes he can’t blame you.

this whole situation is weird. and he doesn’t know how he knows this is the direction your relationship should go - he’s just felt it inside of himself for the past few weeks.

“stop looking so confused and just trust me, okay? tell him you like him and see what he says.”

so that’s exactly what you do, despite all the confusion still swirling inside of you; because as confused as you are about this entire situation, it doesn’t take away from the fact that you do like seonghwa.

you love him, even. not just as a friend and someone who’s been there for you but more. the way you feel comforted by his physical touch, physical being, how sometimes you’ve felt like, if you didn’t know any better and if things were different, your lips would’ve met with no hesitation.

“i... we should get back then,” you hear yourself say. “i didn’t realize it was that late.”

it’s the reality check seonghwa needed to, that he shouldn’t be the one making you laugh and smile while your heart and mind are still plagued by yeosang. so he nods his head, rising to his feet and looking down at you for a few seconds.

you feel a lump form in your throat at the look he gives you, butterflies threatening to erupt in your stomach as his eyes roam every inch of your face. eyes to your hair to your nose to your lips, his tongue peeking out before he nods his head down toward the beach.

"lets go, then,” he says, ignoring the slightly dejected feeling in his stomach he knows he shouldn’t have. “they might be back by now.”

you find the dirty blonde in the kitchen, hunched over a pot of boiling water as he carefully puts in a bag of ramen.

“seonghwa?” you say, creeping up on him with your hands intertwined and a blush already creeping its way on your body.

“oh, hey, y/n. you want some?”

you peek over at the chicken flavored ramen, your nose twitching when you say the bold, red, spicy printed on it; he lips quirk up into a smirk upon seeing your face.

“sorry. forgot you don’t like spicy food.”

you watch seonghwa stand over the stove for a few minutes, plopping yourself up on the counter to watch him silently. he continues what he’s doing with your silent presence there, completely going about his routine until he tells you to sit at the table with him.

there’a few more moments of silence, just him slurping and your occasional laugh until he finally realizes you came out here to say something.

“so... what’s up?”

you peek up at the boy watching you carefully, slurping a noodle into his mouth and watching some excess broth fall into the bowl.

“what do you mean?”

“don’t you wanna tell me something?” he asks, his questioning tone making your heart pound. “or ask me something? you’ve been playing with your fingers for the past fifteen minutes.”

you let out a sigh as you drop your hands to your lap, watching him with a look of mock disdain on your face; curse this boy for knowing you so well.

“it’s a little... random,” you begin, not quite sure how to approach this. 

you’ve never confessed to someone before, especially not per the request of your boyfriend, but you have to imagine these are all the feelings that comes with it.

nervousness in your stomach and warmth fluttering throughout your body, hoping and praying that he like you back because if not, you’re gonna ruin this friendship and that’s not something you want at all.

“and maybe even shocking. but... i think i have to tell you and i hope you don’t think it’s weird. it’s something i just realized within these past few days and i... i don’t wanna ruin anything between us.”

his eyebrows pull together at your words, dropping his utensils on the table as he looks over your face carefully. his stomach’s quickly consumed by nervous, anxiety-ridden knots, looking over your face for any hint of emotion.

but you just seem to look as nervous as him.

“you wouldn’t, you couldn’t,” seonghwa assures gently, his voice deep and soft as he speaks to you and only you; you’re freaking him the fuck out but he’s trying to remain as calm as possible.

“what is it?”

you bite down on your lip as you look at seonghwa, his deep brown eyes staring at you so intensely it makes your stomach flutter. you don’t know how you didn’t reaize sooner that you liked him.

“i.... i like you,” you tell him, voice shaky and soft but the words already out - you’ve said them and there’s no going back. “i like you, seonghwa. a lot.”

it feels as if there’s a giant weight off your shoulders the second you say it, the butterflies in your stomach at an all time high. it feels good to finally say this, finally realize and admit it and let it out into the universe.

“i think i might even love you the way i love yeosang. i didn’t realize because of him, i guess, but now i know i love you both. i don’t know if that’s normal or possible but i really do, seonghwa. i hope that’s not weird for-”

the first thing you taste is the faint spice of chicken broth, unfamiliar but remarkable lips covering yours that you meet back instantly. seonghwa hums against your mouth as he pulls your chair closer to him, the sound of it scraping against the floor going unnoticed by both of you.

you’re only consumed by the feeling of his lips, the small noises leaving your mouth and the desperation of his kiss. how it feels like he’s been wanting to do this for so long, kiss you and touch you and show you how much he’s loved you from afar.

his hand grips your face as he pulls you closer, his deeply mumbled moan of your name against your lips causing you to whine against him. allow his tongue into your mouth and giggle when they collide into one another.

all the kissing stops though the second you hear another voice, the sound of the footsteps approaching you before a hand smacks into the concrete wall harshly.

“i told you to confess. you guys are making out?”

february - junior year

the first thing you learned about polyamorous relationships was that they’re all very different.

the way they come about, the rules in which couples establish, how and why people choose to be in them. there’s not some one size fits all for any relationship in life and that stands true for you, yeosang and seonghwa.

admittedly, things were weird in the beginning. navigating between yeosang and seonghwa comfortably and getting used to having not one but two boyfriends.

there were insecurities to quell on both sides, naturally, and you learned how do that.

assure yeosang that he was enough and that you stayed in love with him for a reason. assure seonghwa that he was enough and that you fell in love with him for a reason too.

many reasons that all became too much and morphed into one another, rendering you, both, loyal and locked down to two men who constantly tested you.

the first test being the blanket dilemma.

without fail, no matter the weather and no matter the sleeping position, you woke up without a blanket. 

you were either curled into seonghwa’s warm body, your legs intertwined and his arms around you, or had your back trapped against yeosang’s chest.

his arms wound tightly around your waist, the steady rise and fall of his breath on your skin as seonghwa laid there with the queen size blanket half on him and half on the floor; that’s what this morning was like, too.

you slowly untangled yourself from yeosang, crawling over to seonghwa until you plopped yourself down on him clumsily. he stirred underneath you, attempting to move and stretch his body with the weight of you on top of him.

you bend down to peck his cheek lightly, smiling when his handsome, sleeping face barely changes. 

you decide to play a little bit more, moving your body back and forth against him teasingly. the movements somehow wake the black-haired boy next to you, his eyes popping open and a smirk on his face as he watches you grind against seonghwa.

“what are you doing, baby?”

his voice causes you to jump, a quiet chuckle leaving him as you move your arms to showcase the stolen blankets.

“he can’t keep doing this!” you whisper-scream, a look of frustration on his face. “every morning it’s either you or him stealing all the blankets and leaving us freezing.”

yeosang rolls closer so he’s in your warm spot in the middle, looking up at you as his hand rests on your waist. you’re only wearing one of his white t-shirts, your nipples peeking through the material not at all helping his morning wood.

“and you think grinding over his dick is gonna help?”

your cheeks flush as you stick your tongue out at him immaturely, tuning back to run your fingers through seonghwa’s dirty blonde hair. 

the slow, calmingly movements cause tired groans to leave his mouth, his eyes eventually popping open before a smirk crosses his face.

“hi, baby girl,” his deep morning voice drones, one hand slipping past your shirt to rest on your waist. “what are you doing?”

“you stole the blanket again,” you whine, the pout on your face one he just wants to kiss off with you on top of him like this.

“i didn’t mean too,” he hums, moving you along by the hips as he feels his cock grow harder. “you had yeosang to keep you warm, no?”

the two share of look, both of them more often than no waking up horny and ready to take you. it’s not something you’re ignorant of either, watching them look at you before, suddenly, you’re pushed down onto our back.

“because, you know pretty girl, we may take the blankets but you take up a whole lot of room,” seonghwa says, his hands running through your messy morning hair.

he’s never slept with someone who kicks as much as you. who, even though you’re the smallest in the bed, take up the most space by far.

“remember the night you almost kicked me off?” he hums, a smirk on his face at the memory. his hand trails down your face, thumb pressing on your lip before he moves his hand over your chin and down your neck.

yeosang smirks when he watches you swallow nervously, his hand on your hip slipping between your thighs carefully. he doesn’t make any moves to touch you, just holds your inner thigh and allows his thumb to move slowly up and down your skin.

“he’s got a point baby,” yeosang’s voice mumbles, slightly deeper than even seonghwa’s morning voice. “you do take up a lot of room for being the smallest one here.”

with their hands on you and an intense feeling building in the air, you’re quickly being humbled. 

seonghwa’s hand trailing over your white t-shirt until it’s ghosting over your nipples, the palm of his hand on the sensitive bud causing your breath to quicken.

or that could be because yeosang’s hand is so close to your pussy, just a few inches away from touching your bare, growing wetness.

“i... i don’t mean too,” you say, growing more and more submissive and ready to whine as your two boyfriends start to cloud your senses; you were scolding them and now you’re the one being punished - how is that fair? 

seonghwa’s hand gently guides your shirt up until your bare chest hits the cold air, a deeply mumbled “fuck,” leaving him before he dips his head down and attaches his mouth to your nipple.

you let out a surprised gasp, sensations of pleasure shooting right between your legs. yeosang is readily there with his long, skilled fingers, toying with your slit and teasingly running up and down the growing wetness.

“you might not mean to,” yeosang says, eyes peeking up to see seonghwa’s face in your chest and your mouth thrown back in pleasure. “but you still do it, don’t you?”

his finger slides into you easily, a loud moan escaping you that has seonghwa smiling against your boob. his other hands move over to tweak with your nipple, yeosang keeping up his movements as he curls his finger inside of you.

you’ve barely been up for ten minutes but you feel yourself about to come, both the boys far too skilled and ready to give you pleasure however and whenever you want it.

you cry out when yeosang slips another finger inside of you, seonghwa disconnecting his mouth from your nipple to kiss you deeply. skilled tongue slipping in your mouth as his lips part on yours and you’re kissing back just as desperately.

chasing your orgasm as your hips buck into yeosang’s hand.

“are you about to come?” seonghwa mumbles when he pulls back, his hand trailing over your neck and squeezing at the sides lightly. “has your pretty little pussy had enough? are you gonna come just from yeosang’s hand?”

“y-yes,” you moan out, hand reaching out to hold onto seonghwa’s shoulder. “and your mouth.”

“please, he didn’t do shit,” yeosang mutters, his fingers fucking into you with just the right amount of pressure and speed.

they both watch with lust in their eyes as you moan loudly, eyes rolling back as you throw your head into the pillow. yeosang removes his hand immediately, tapping at your hip gently.

“turn around.”

but seonghwa can tell immediately what yeosang wants to do, the dirty blonde slapping his hand away and instead gripping your hips tightly.

“you got to touch her,” seonghwa growls, bitter over the fact he didn’t get to make you ome first thing in the morning. “now i get to fuck her.”

“you waited too long to make your move,” the black-haired boy smirks, the double meaning in his words making him roll his eyes. “that’s why i got her first.”

“well, maybe if you didn’t-”

“stop,” you whine, the growing feeling of wet empitness making you frown at your two boyfriends. “one of you, please. the o-other can fuck my mouth. i’ll be good, i promise.”

seonghwa and yeosang share a look before the dirty blonde flips you over and pulls up your hips, rising your ass in the air as he holds himself on his knees. the bed is firm enough so that he doesn’t sink down, rubbing over your ass gently before landing a loud, resounding smack.

“you’re always good for us, baby girl,” he says, trailing his dick up and down your wet slit. “you’re always so so good.”

you whine as he teases you, knowing that, with seonghwa, it’s better if you’re polite and wait. he likes seeing you desperate and whining, always waiting until he says it’s okay to buck your hips or chase your own orgasm.

but he doesn’t give you the time today.

because one second you’re empty and wet and ready to scream and then the next, his hips are smacking into yours and he’s fucking the life out of you. snapping them just the right way and in just the right spots for you to be crying out into your hot and stuffy bedroom.

“seonghwa,” you moan, the slapping of skin and quiet grunts filling the room.

it’s all halted, however, when yeosang’s in front of you, his hard cock just inches from your face as he looks down at you. there’s a smirk on his face seeing you so fucked out and desperate because of them, guiding your mouth to him and smiling when you take his cock without a second thought.

your tongue laps at the tip, swirling around and around until you sink down on it further. you hold back a gag when he hits the back of your throat, your head getting into a groove that has yeosang cursing and groaning your name harshly.

“there you go, baby,” you hear seonghwa growl from behind you, his hand reaching around you play with your clit. “you take us both so well. filling you up and making you feel good, right baby?”

“r-right, seonghwa,” you moan, eyes rolling back when his cock starts hitting a certain spot inside you. he can feel you’re about to come by the way you tighten around him, by the way your head starts bobbing harsher and yeosang’s grunts grow louder and deeper.

“come first, baby. it’s okay,” seonghwa says, partially because they always want you to come first and partially because he knows he’s about to bust inside of you.

it takes you clenching and throwing your hips back against his for him to come, one last snap of his hips causing you both to release. you’re moaning against yeosang’s cock when he releases too, the vibrations and knowledge that you just came with his cock in your mouth far too much.

the room is a mess of bodily fluids, heavy breathing and sweat but it doesn’t matter. you collapse on top of the bed as seonghwa pulls out of you and yeosang massages the sides of your aw gently.

the black-haired boy mumbles sweet nothings to you as seonghwa gets a warm rag, cleaning between your legs before he kisses the top of your head sweetly.

“you did good, baby,” he mumbles, collapsing on the bed next to you and wrapping arm around your waist. the three of you lay in silence for a few moments, heart rates calming and senses coming back before yeosang looks at you with a soft, sweetness in his eyes.

“oh. and happy valentine’s day baby.”

you’ll never forget your first valentine’s day as a couple with yeosang and seonghwa.

it was only a few months after you confessed to seonghwa during your sophomore year, the three of you just starting out and establishing rules for your new relationship.

they had all been strangely easy to work out, the number one rule being to always communicate. 

be open and honest about everything one of you may being feeling, so there’s not a spiral of miscommunication and tears the way there was that one disconnected summer.

the transition had been strangely easy for all of you too, probably because yeosang knew seonghwa liked you way before he called his friend out.

the parts of it that had been hard, however, was something you least expected - telling the rest of the boys and reserving a table for three on valentine’s day.

“wait... you’re all going to dinner?” san asked, looking at the three of you with confusion on his face. “can we come? what the hell.”

“you’re not sending us off the bar again but instead leaving us alone? why can seonghwa go but not us? we wanna spend time with, y/n, too.”

“because i’m her boyfriend, bud. who are you?”

seonghwa’s deep, sarcastic voice halted all the whines and complaints immediately, everyone’s eyes wide as they look to yeosang. the black-haired boy can only smirk as he feels eyes on him, a reassuring nod that sends the house into chaos again.

asking what kind of swinger shit is going on and how long it’d been going on under their roof without them knowing.

“it’s not swinger shit, dickhead, we’re just both dating her. like... one cohesive unit that live together and take care of her. me and seonghwa both agreed to it. in fact, i think it was more so my idea.”

“it was definitely your idea,” you tell him, seonghwa’s arm around your shoulder as he watches you talk with  smile. “you’re the one who told me to tell seonghwa i liked him!”

a snort leaves yeosang and seonghwa as there’s a mix of different reviews in the crowd.

hongjoong and yunho are looking on supportively, the only two boys who had lingering suspicions about seonghwa’s feelings for you.

wooyoung, san and jongho are only slightly confused, a mix of happy and cautious like they don’t know what’s about to happen but are here for it.

and mingi is by far the most baffled, looking between you, seonghwa and yeosang before shaking his head in bewilderment.

"straight people are so weird.”

you nearly spit out your drink at dinner reliving the story with yeosang and seonghwa, the table full of meat, pasta and bread as you celebrate valentine’s day together.

going out on dates was something you also had to get used to, usually surrounded by lovey-dovey couples who only had eyes for each other; but for you guys, the dynamic was obviously different.

you’d hold seonghwa’s hand while smiling lovingly at yeosang. yeosang would have his hand on your lower back while you and seonghwa played footsie under the table.

if anyone were nosy or curious about your dynamic, they’d be able to pick up on it really quick - but you three didn’t care. it wasn’t anyone’s business but your own and as long as you guys were all happy, it didn’t matter.

“he’s such a little shit,” seonghwa mutters, a giggle leaving your mouth as yeosang raises a fork to your mouth. you open up happily, biting into a piece of chicken and chewing on the flavorful food.

you three eat until you’re ready to explode, seonghwa and yeosang splitting the check before walking out to your car. 

you half expect to go back home, lay out in bed with them and spend the rest of the night watching cheesy romantic comedy, until you realize you’re in the car for a while.

your head resting on the chair as you turn to look at yeosang.

“where are we going?”

“it’s a surprise,” he mumbles, your mouth dropping open as you look at seonghwa in the back seat.

“wait.. do you know?”

he shrugs his shoulders with a smirk pulling at his lips, a whine leaving your mouth as you wack both of them in the arms.

“that’s not fair! please tell me, too!”

“we’re almost there, baby, c’mon,” seonghwa mumbles, moving closer to take your face in his hands. “come back here with me.”

“no,” yeosang says, taking one hand off the wheel to hold your arm tightly; but seonghwa’s at an advantage, picking you up over the console and dragging you up and onto his lap.

he drowns out the sounds of yeosang’s yelling, securing you onto his lap as you straddle him with a chastising look on your face.

“that was dangerous,” you mumble, a snort leaving him as he shakes his head at you.

“it’s fine,” he mumbles, your lips meeting in a kiss that you meet back immediately. 

yeosang looks in the rearview mirror when he hears the sounds of lips smacking and muffled moans, throwing an empty water bottle that just misses seonghwa’s head.

“i’m not your fucking uber driver,” yeosang snaps, “don’t make out when i can’t join.”

“hear that, baby? he wants to kiss me, too.”

you muffle your giggles into his chest, seonghwa and yeosang bantering back and forth as you rest your head on seonghwa’s chest. he’s warm and toned underneath you, the gentle lull of the car causing your eyes to close.

you’re not sure if you fall asleep, you think you’re in that weird space of consciousness and slumber, when you hear yeosang mumbling your name. his lips are by your ear and you look up at him sleepily, a smile on his face when he tells you to wake up.

you look around to see you’re still in the car, the black leather interior one you’re very used to by now. but what you’re not used to seeing is the ocean outside the windows, a gasp leaving your mouth that quickly wakes you up.

you run out and onto the beach, yeosang trailing behind as he shouts your name with a smile.

seonghwa and him had already set up the blankets on the sand, a cooler full of drinks and snacks off the side.

“yeosang told me this was your first date,” seonghwa mumbles, his arms wrapping around your waist. “gotta admit, pretty smooth even for him.”

a smile brightens your face as you peck his lips, intertwining your hands before reaching out to grab yeosang’s.

you drag the two boys out to the freezing ocean, both of their desperate pleas to not freeze their balls off going unheard by you. you just giggle and pull them out further, squealing when the freezing water hits you feet and you jump up.

they both move to catch you, yeosang catching one leg and seonghwa catching the other as you hold yourself above them.

“baby, this was your fucking idea,” yeosang complans, the smile on his face proving he’s not bad in the slightest.

you frolic around with the two boys until your feet are numb. giggling and squealing when seonghwa catches you around the waist and pecking yeosang’s lips when you fall back and collapses on top of you.

“i love you,” he mumbles against your mouth, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as you smile against him.

you spend the rest of the night cuddled between them, your head on seonghwa’s stomach as yeosang sits next to you, playing with your fingers and blowing hot air on your cold hands.

it’s calm and peaceful and everything you’ve ever wanted. 

there’s a different type of feeling in the air compared to the first time you were here with just yeosang, something that feels right and sweet and like without, both, yeosang and seonghwa here, it just wouldn’t be the same.

“i love you,” seonghwa mumbles when you look up at him, his hands twirling through your hair as he bends down to peck your lips.

all your cheeks are red from the wind and the tips of your fingers are freezing but you don’t wanna leave just yet. you just wanna stay here together, enjoy the silence and the crash of the waves and the occasional squawk of a brave seagull.

maybe even wait until the sun comes up to watch the sunrise, if you guys don’t completely freeze to death together.

january - senior year

your trip to the mountains doubled as a two year anniversary/graduation celebration.

the three of you were still as strong as ever, dealing with bumps in the road that all couples went through: fits of miscommunication, times of insecurity, even acknowledging that, sometimes, you need seonghwa and yeosang for different things.

seonghwa’s the boyfriend who understands you. 

is similiar to you and knows the way your introverted mind works. you go to him when you feel most uncomfortable in a crowd, like at frat parties or in bars where you know yeosang just thrives.

but yeosang’s the one who pushes you to do extraordinary things - maybe not even extraordinary, just things you normally wouldn’t do; he’s the one who pushed you to do you research with your professor that ended up allowing you to graduate one semester early with them.

so in order to celebrate, you three rented a house in the mountains with one bedroom, a giant movie room and a hot tub on the balcony.

spent a week in the snowy, picturesque country where you lounged around in bed, soaked in the hot tub and became even more sure that this is what you wanted for the rest of your life.

to wake up next to seonghwa and yeosang, even if it meant having the blankets ripped off of you in the night.

to live with them and build a life together with them, deal with the bickering that comes with dating best friends who have known each other for their entire lives.

to act surprised when, in a few years when you’re settled with jobs and a house, they buy you matching wedding bands to show off the fact that you’re theirs.

[star-lemonade]

Private Video (1/2)

A.C.E Donghun x Reader

Cw: smut, asmr

Rating: R

Word count: 3.2k

Not betaed. thanks to @silent5tar for reading it ahead of release <3

“I heard your channel is doing well.”

Sujin smiled over the edge of her mug. She had never really understood the appeal of ASMR, but she still supported your endeavors.

“Yes, it is. Next month I will invite you to dinner.”

“Oh, so you really make some money?”

Sujin raised one eyebrow. A look that fit her face well. Even in situations like this her words never came out accusatory.

“Not really, but I can take my best friend out for dinner anyways.”

She smiled as the waitress came with your cakes. No, the youtube channel did not really make money, if you consider the cost of the microphone and filming equipment but it was a good pass time. The feedback from people in the comments felt good too.

“Ah! I remembered something.”

Sujin leaned forward as if people in the cafe would pay attention to your conversation. Of course no one was looking at you.

“Do you remember Donghun?”

Yes, you did remember him. Donghun was Sujin’s ex-boyfriend’s friend. Well, friend is maybe said too much. They had attended some of the same classes and Donghun had hung out with him, and by extension you, sometimes.

“I do. What’s with him?”

“He asked for your number.”

That was surprising. You had talked a few times but mostly you had been there for Sujin, to spend time with her. Why did he want your number now?

“Okay. Why tho?”

She shrugged. At least she had not just given out your number to anyone who asked. A bit more information would have been though.

“No idea.”

You thought about it. Technically you knew him so it was not like you would give your number to a stranger and if you did not like where the conversation was going you could still block him.

“Okay, give him my number then.”

A few days later Donghun asked you to meet him for coffee. The place was in a particularly hip part of town. Every coffee shop here was the picturesque backdrop for some influencer’s instagram post.

You entered the shop and looked around. Donghun was nowhere to be seen. You got yourself a coffee and sat down. The place was cozy with its assorted armchairs and low tables. It would be perfect to come here and read a book. It was not too loud either at the moment at least. You sank into the soft cushions. The armchair felt like a lot of people had previously sat in it. The seat had sunken in the middle but it was still okay. A shadow appeared in your periphery.

“Hi, how have you been?”

A soft voice asked from the side and you jerked up. Donghun had arrived. His dark brown hair fell into his eyes as he smiled, looking down at you. He took off his jacket and hung it over the armchair opposite you. The jeans and plain black sweater looked stylish on him.

“I’m good thanks for asking.”

“Good to hear. I will just get a coffee too.”

He joined the queue for the counter. The coffee shop was not very full at the moment, most people just got a drink to go and left again. Donghun looked different from the last time you had seen him. His hair was longer and dyed a warm shade of brown. The small piercing in the side of his nose was new too. It gave him an even more soft, pretty feeling. He looked like one of those instagram influencers that you followed for their cozy aesthetics and beautiful faces. You wondered if he had a public instagram account and if yes, how many followers did he have. I would follow him. You made a mental note to look for his account later.

He returned with a mug of coffee and sank into the soft armchair.

“So, why did you want to meet me?”

“Ah, yes it’s been a while.”

He looked down at his mug that he held in his hands. Several delicate metal rings decorated his fingers. You could also see a bracelet peek from under his sleeves.

“I have seen your videos and I love your channel.”

“Oh, so you are a fan.”

Your tone was teasing and Donghun smiled.

“I guess so.”

Not a lot of people you knew had much interest in what you did on your channel. Most had never even seen an ASMR video. Sujin had watched some when you started but it was not something that she needed in her life.

“What are your favorite videos then?”

Let’s see if he really watched them or not. You had not done that many videos over the past year or so, maybe 30 videos, but you had enjoyed making them. He leaned forward a bit as he spoke.

“I really liked the one with the lid sounds. Those containers from lush sound really good.”

You nodded.

“Oh and the long one. I listen to it while working.”

Ah yes. The long one. The 3 hour monstrosity had taken forever to edit together. You had made some mistakes and it delayed the whole schedule you had set for yourself. It felt good to hear that your work was appreciated.

“There is actually something I wanted to ask.”

He leaned forward and met your eyes.

“I would love to try it too. Recording a video I mean. Would that be okay with you? Maybe you can publish it, if it’s good?”

So this was his ulterior motive. It made sense. The equipment was pretty pricey so, if you do not know, whether or not you really like recording, it would be better to try first with someone else’s microphones.There was no harm in letting him play around. You seized him up. Donghun would look good on camera, you were sure of that. Personally you only showed your face very few times. It was enough to have good sound and nice close ups of the objects. One thing about him stood up to you the most.

“I think I have an idea for your video already.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, how is next Saturday for you?”

You set up your filming equipment in the small living room. Well, more like the room had become a set and had ceased to be a living room. You had built a soundproof box out of plywood and sound absorbing foam. While it was technically removable, most days you just let it stand there. It was simply too bothersome to move it elsewhere.

Donghun arrived on time. He rang the bell and you let him in. Just as you had told him, he wore an off white sweater. There were some colors that had to be avoided when filming videos, because they did not look as good on camera. The background in the sound proof box was black so this would make him stand out.

“Hi, can I offer you something to drink?”

“A cup of tea, if you have it.”

While you made tea for both of you, Donghun inspected the set. A chair was surrounded by three walls of sound foam. The camera and the microphone were plugged in to your computer and ready to go.

“Here.”

“Thanks.”

He sat down on the chair as there was no other place for him to sit that was not the floor. He blew on his tea.

“So, what have you planned for me.”

“Have you ever seen a hand sounds video?”

These kinds of ASMR videos featured a person rubbing their hand together in different ways. You enjoyed listening to them a lot and while you would have loved to make one yourself, the thought of having people look at you hands that closely made you uncomfortable. Okay, maybe they were doing that already but it would be even more intense.

“Oh. Yes, I have. You think I will be good at that?”

“You have nice hands, so…”

Now that you had said that out loud it seemed a bit odd. As if this was something inappropriate. It implied that you had looked at him. He held up his hands and inspected them. Pretend like that wasn’t awkward. He nodded.

“So, when do we start?”

You closed the blinds on the windows and began to adjust the lighting. Donghun looked really good. His skin had a healthy tone and the long hair, freshly washed, shone in the lights. He had rolled up his sleeves, but you wondered if taking the sweater off would be better.

You gave him a monitor - some earbuds - so he could hear himself while recording. He started to test the microphone and looked surprised at the sound. You could not hear the sound of the microphone but it was okay. You would watch the recording a bit later. Donghun rubbed his fingers together and experimented with speeds. His hands were graceful and you could not help yourself but stare. Even if it was disguised as monitoring the recording.

“Can you come over I wanna try something”

You walked over to him, wondering what it was. He took your hand and pushed the sleeve of your shirt up. While close to the microphone, he ran his palm over your arm. A shiver ran down your spine. His hands were a bit more on the soft side and the way he rubbed your arm, even if unintended, put you on edge. It had been some time since you had had a partner and this felt almost too intimate.

Thankfully Donghun did not notice the effect he had on you because he was focused on the sound only he could hear. You controlled your breathing as it would be audible on the recording. Please stop being so handsome. The faint smell of shampoo and freshly washed clothes tickled your nose. It made your stomach drop.

Okay, but is it possible that I am developing a crush on Donghun right now? That was totally possible. You had always found him kind of attractive, but you had never spent that much time together.

“Are you okay?”

His voice was soft, only audible because it was so quiet. It brought you back to the present.

“Yes...yes! Sorry I…”

You cut yourself off. Don’t mumble. His fingers pressed lightly against the palm of your hand. Almost like holding hands but not quite. He got up, not letting go.

“Can we take a break?”

“Sure.”

You were very aware how close he was and of his fingers gently holding your hand. His eyes were a warm shade of brown that reminded you of chocolate.

“Let’s go then.”

A trip to the coffee place around the corner gave you a bit of time to sort your thoughts. Maybe you should ask Donghun if he was looking for a girlfriend. If he was, you could ask him out. There was no point in denying you felt something for him. Now, the only question that remained was, how could you ask subtly about his relationship status. You could not bring yourself to just ask. What if you made it awkward? What if he laughed in your face? No, you wanted to do it, indirectly. You would come up with something.

After you drank your coffees, you returned to the apartment. Donghun recorded for about two hours. You would have to cut some parts where a truck drove by or where the neighbors talked too loudly but it had looked good.

“Awesome, you did a good job!”

It was true you really liked the video and sounds you had recorded. You set the earphones down and looked up at Donghun.

“Is it really okay if I upload this?”

From a legal standpoint you could not simply upload someone else’s face to your Youtube channel. So you had to ask.

“Yes!”

He beamed as he put on his jacket. You did not want him to leave but could not think of a reason to make him stay. Donghun must be tired. Sitting in the chair for so long was surprisingly exhausting. You knew that from experience.

“Awesome.”

You saw him to the door. Donghun standing in your door was something you would like to see again. When he came back that was.

“It was fun recording today! Thank you for letting me do this.”

His smile was a ray of warm sunlight.

“No problem. I had fun.”

He stood in your door and buried his hands in the pockets of his pants. I bet the hair feels as soft as it looks. It looked like he wanted to say something, probably goodbye. The time was now.

“Would you like to grab a coffee sometime?”

He looked a bit surprised but a smile appeared on his face.

“Yes, I would like that.”

“Good.”

Your heart had skipped a beat when he had said that. Hopefully it would not be too long before you met again.

“See you around.”

The video with the title “Hand sounds with my friend” was a big success. Comments and likes poured in all day. One of the most upvoted ones read:

“I loved the part you did together. Can we get a part two? 😘”

The thought of Donghun running his hands along your skin was dangerous. It had felt so good. It had been two weeks since you had filmed the video but the memory was still vivid in your mind. The tickling of his fingertips brushing over your arm. The warmth of his hands and the smell of his hair were still there. You wanted to run your hands through the soft hair, wondering how it would feel. His head would tilt up and he would look up at you with those sparkling eyes. Maybe he would kiss your hands. Kiss your arm. Kiss your lips.

Your phone vibrated and you jerked from your daydream.

“Hey, do you wanna get dinner tonight?”

Donghun. As if your thoughts had summoned him…

“Sure, where do you want to go?”

Was this a date? You did not want to ask if this was a date or not. No need to make things awkward.

About 20 minutes before you had to leave for your maybe date, you stood before your wardrobe and weighed your options. The nice dress may signal your interest but could also be perceived as overkill for a casual date with a friend. Wearing a simple jeans and sweater or cardigan combo might seem too much like you were not interested and saw this more as a “friends going out to eat” situation.

You put on the dress. It showed way more cleavage than you remembered. You did not feel comfortable enough to wear it today. Jeans and cardigan it was. As fast as possible you changed.

In order to relieve some nervousness you went to the bathroom and started putting on makeup in record time. Usually you were too lazy to put on makeup but in situations like now it felt like armour. Whatever may happen today at least you looked your best.

The worry you had had about a look overkill dissipated, when you saw Donghun. He wore black suit pants, a white dress shirt and a cream colored blazer. A black silk shawl was tied like a ribbon around his neck instead of a tie. Your dress would have looked down right shabby next this. Donghun looked absolutely stunning.

“Hi!”

“Hello!”

He smiled a small smile. It made your heart jump.

You opened the glass door and entered. The restaurant was not very fancy and Donghun seemed out of place. One of the tables in the back was free and he walked towards it with unwavering steps.

He sat down and you took the chair opposite. You busied yourself with choosing something to eat. The laminated pages of the menu made your fingers even more sweaty. It’s not necessary to be this nervous. Calm down. But look at him! Is he playing a prince in a drama or something. Who shows up to a dinner with a friend looking like that?

It was true, he looked extra good today. The only logical reason seemed to be that he saw this as a date. Maybe it was a good idea to signal your interest.

“I really like your outfit.”

He looked down as if to check what exactly he was wearing.

“Ah, yes. Thanks. I was taking photos with some friends earlier.”

“Oh.”

You did not realize that you had said that out loud until he gave you a questioning look. Pretending to be suddenly very interested in the menu you looked down and hoping your blush was not visible.

The waiter took your orders and left. You still felt awkward and avoided looking at him by looking around the room. Some of the older men at the other table were clearly talking about Donghun. He, however, was not bothered by the way people looked at him. In general it seemed like not a lot could dampen his confidence. One time you had hung out with Sujin, her ex and some more friends, you had played some game. Your recollection of the night was not very good but the result of the game - or was it a dare? - was that Donghun had to put on one of Sujin’s crop tops. He wore it for the rest of the night even when you went to a club. Now that you thought about it, this was actually something you admired about him.

“I don’t think i have asked, but what do you do for a living?”

Donghun had mentioned working but you did not remember what it was that he did. As it turned he worked as a system administrator at a company not too far away. On the side he had an instagram account with a few ten thousand followers. Not a huge following but definitely something. You pulled out your phone and searched for his account.

“I will stalk your account later.”

“But don’t like all the old posts or people will notice.”

Eyes sparkled mischievously and you laughed. The few photos you had seen looked exactly how you had expected. All of them had a hard to describe coziness to them. Like the one of Donghun sitting in bed with a mug.

“How have you been doing?”

The food had arrived and you felt more relaxed around Donghun. He obviously did not think this was a date so there was no pressure on you to look your best. It was a bit disappointing but also a relief. You talked about your work and how you thought about changing jobs.

“Would you quit if your channel was making enough money?”

“hmm.”

You had thought about that before but reality was complicated.

“Right now i’m just doing it for fun but if it was a matter of paying the bills, I don’t think it would be as fun.”

Donghun nodded.

“It’s not very stable.”

“That too.”

If your channel did very well and you quit your shitty, but stable job, you would have to worry more about what videos would do well instead of enjoying what you do.

“Ah, speaking of the channel, I wanted to ask you something.”

Donghun looked up from his plate.

“The video we recorded did really well and people asked for another. Would you like to make another video with me?”

[olivemac]

1300 miles | chapter one | b.b.

Summary | Bucky Barnes is adjusting to civilian life, living in Brooklyn, visiting Sam in Delacroix when he can, and trying to figure out what he wants. When he meets Jo Landry, the tattooed lead singer of a New Orleans-based band, he thinks he might have found the answer. Too bad they live 1300 miles apart.

Time Frame | post-TFATWS

Pairing | Bucky Barnes x fem!oc

Rating | explicit

Warnings | mentions of combat-related injuries, alcohol use, tattoos/body piercings, coarse language, gay male character, bisexual female character, recreational/medicinal drug use (weed), pet names (doll, Sarge), smut (f/m, mutual masturbation, fingering, slight dom!Bucky, praise kink), angst if you squint but not really, and all the romance tropes/fluff because I'm a sucker for it; more warnings to come; 18+ ONLY, minors DNI

A/N | It’s my birthday, so to celebrate I’m sharing chapter one of my new WIP. This started its life as a one-shot but then my enneagram 4 brain took over and now it’s looking like it’ll be a multi-chapter short. Enjoy!

Also, feedback – comments, likes, etc. – is always appreciated, my loves.

AO3 link | 1300 miles playlist

_____

The sun is just starting to sink in the sky as Sam and Bucky finish the latest repairs on the boat. Sam has spent the last hour pestering Bucky about things he’s missed over the last 80 years — things he needs to do, shows and movies he needs to watch, music to listen to, places to go. Bucky is considering the consequences of putting his vibranium fist through the new Captain America’s face.

“You’re telling me you’ve never been to New Orleans?” Sam half-shouts at Bucky in amusement.

“Sam, besides the airport, when would I have been to New Orleans?” Bucky sighs.

“We’re going. Tonight.” He stands up. “But none of that Bourbon Street bullshit. I know a place,” he says.

_____

The bar is crowded on a Saturday night, but they manage to find a table near the small stage where a band is setting up.

“I’ll get drinks,” Sam says, heading to the bar.

“Sam said he knows the owners?” Bucky asks Sarah.

“Jo and Danny. Yeah,” Sarah says. “Danny served with Sam on his last tour. Real young kid when he served. Took some shrapnel to the chest and face in an RPG explosion and got out early. He and Sam kept in touch.”

Bucky watches Sam talk to a man with a mop of curly, brown hair and an auburn beard behind the bar. From where he sits, Bucky can see a jagged scar peeking out from the top of the man’s beard over his cheek, stopping just below his right eye.

Sam returns with three beers. "Danny says hi," he tells Sarah. "Says he'll come over when he has a free minute."

"Jo around?" Sarah asks.

Sam nods toward the stage. "She's playing tonight. Danny says she's in the office rewriting the set list."

Bucky sips his beer and looks around. When they entered, there was a wave of enthusiasm as people recognized Sam as Captain America, but it seems to have died down and now no one is paying them much attention. Bucky prefers it that way, though he’s happy that people are excited for Sam.

“Speak of the devil,” Sam says, smiling and nodding toward a woman emerging from a door beside the bar marked ‘Employees Only.’ She’s wearing a loose-fitting white tank tucked into light-wash jeans cuffed just above a pair of black combat boots. Her wavy, dark hair fans out behind her as she rushes towards the stage. She's clutching a piece of paper in one hand, and the smile on her face makes Bucky's heart stutter for a moment.

Sam catches the way Bucky is watching Jo as she jumps onto the stage. He elbows Sarah and nods at the lovestruck look on Bucky's face, and they share a smirk. Bucky doesn't notice the exchange. He's too busy studying Jo. Her arms are covered in tattoos, from shoulders to fingers. When she tucks a strand of hair behind her left ear, Bucky can see the row of piercings adorning the curve of her ear. There's a gold ring between her nostrils. Bucky's seen some of the kids in Brooklyn with that piercing, but he doesn't know what it's called. He's seen plenty of women like her since moving back to New York — with tattoos and piercings and dark hair — but there's something about the combination with her green eyes and soft smile that makes his mouth go dry and his palm sweat.

He takes another sip of his beer to ground himself.

Jo picks up an acoustic-electric guitar from its stand, swings the strap over her shoulder, and plugs the guitar into a small amp at her feet. She raises her right hand in the air and sets a count with her fingers — one, two, three, four. The band starts, and Jo strums the guitar, smiling at the crowd. When she steps up to the microphone and opens her mouth, Bucky is surprised at how sweet her voice sounds. He was expecting it to be rougher, but it's gentle and warm, and he likes the way her mouth looks as it forms the words to the song.

Next to him, Sam taps his foot along to the music. Bucky can't remember the last time he saw a band play live. God, he thinks, it was before the war, before everything. He takes another sip of his beer before Sarah hands him a fresh bottle. He hadn't even noticed that she'd left the table and gone to the bar. He smiles and nods his thanks.

Sarah leans over and whispers to Bucky just loud enough for Sam to hear, as well, "You should ask her out after the show."

Bucky grimaces and shakes his head. As he told Yori once, there's a dance to these things, and he's eighty years out of practice. Plus, his last date didn't exactly go as planned.

But he can't stop staring at Jo's painted black nails and tattooed fingers as they move across the guitar strings. LOVE is written across the top knuckles of her right hand, HATE on the left. A series of lines and dots decorate her lower knuckles. There’s a snake curling around her left wrist, its inked head resting on her hand, and several large peonies cover the back of her right hand and up her forearm. Bucky wonders what her tattooed hands would look like wrapped around his cock. He also wonders where else on her body she has tattoos and what that voice would sound like when he's between her thighs. Fuck.

The band transitions into another song, and Jo's eyes land on Bucky. She's used to people staring at her, especially when she's on stage, but she's caught by the way his eyes never leave her, never wander to look at the band's female bassist or to Sarah sitting next to him. She's certain his stare could burn a hole right through her, and she wouldn't even complain. He’s fucking gorgeous.

She knows who he is, of course. She’s seen the recent footage of him with Sam in New York and read the Times article detailing his move from assassin to almost Avenger. Plus, her twin brother, Danny, was a bit of a history nerd as a kid so she’s definitely seen a Captain America documentary that mentioned the Howling Commandos. And they may or may not have hidden a fugitive Captain America and Falcon following the Accords.

Jo tears her eyes away from the super soldier and focuses on the rest of the audience. She can see Danny behind the bar, flirting with the man he's been trying to sleep with for the past two weeks. She catches his eye and smiles her encouragement between lyrics. Get his number! she tries to say with her eyes. Danny's usually pretty good at reading her mind. She doesn't know if it's a brother thing or a twin thing or just a Danny thing, but when he holds up his phone in surrender and smiles back at her, she knows he got the message.

The first half of their set ends with a crash of drums and a long guitar riff. Jo takes a swig from the mason jar full of water she keeps on stage. Her eyes meet Bucky's again as she swallows, and he licks his bottom lip. Heat curls in the pit of her stomach at the thought of what else that tongue could do.

Willow, the band's bassist, steps over and whispers in Jo's ear, “If you don’t fuck him after the show, I’m going to."

When Jo looks at her, she can see the amusement dancing in Willow's eyes. She rolls her own eyes and avoids looking directly at Bucky for the rest of the set.

_____

After the last song, Jo thanks the crowd and helps the rest of the band tidy up the stage, unplugging amps and turning off the mics. She's still trying not to look at Bucky, even though she can feel his eyes on her.

"You have to stop staring, man," Sam whispers to Bucky.

"I'm not staring," Bucky grumbles.

Sarah laughs, "You're definitely staring."

“Here," Sam says, "I'll introduce you." And before Bucky can protest, Sam is waving Jo over. "Josephine," Sam says, hugging her.

"Samuel," she returns, smiling. "Congrats on the new gig." She punches his shoulder lightly. "Better you than that John Walker douchebag," she says. Bucky snorts, and she catches his eye and smirks before turning to Sarah. "Hey, Sarah." They exchange pleasantries while Bucky tries to get his tongue to turn back from lead.

Sam points at Bucky, "This is—"

Bucky stands. "Bucky. Barnes."

Jo smiles and shakes his gloved hand. "Jo. Landry," she says, matching his cadence.

Sam was right. Bucky can't stop staring at her. This close, he can see there's a bit of gold in the green of her eyes and a slight gap between her two front teeth. She smells like sandalwood and citrus and just a little bit like pot.

Jo returns his stare. His five o’clock shadow doesn’t hide the dimple in his chin, and she briefly imagines pressing her lips against it. She’s trying to name the exact shade of blue of his eyes when Sam clears his throat.

She’s not usually so easily flustered by attractive people, but Bucky's blue eyes and chiseled jaw have done a number on her self-control. “Let me grab a drink,” Jo says, turning quickly.

“No need,” Danny says, appearing in front of her and handing her a glass. He leans in and whispers in her ear, “He’s cute.”

“Please fuck off,” Jo hisses in return, widening her eyes at him. She’s only half-serious, and Danny knows it. It’s a twin thing.

When she looks at Bucky again, he’s smirking, and she wonders if enhanced hearing is a super soldier trait. Bucky pulls out the fourth chair at the small table for her to sit, and Jo can't remember the last time someone did that for her.

"The show was great," Sarah says, grabbing Jo's attention.

"Thanks," Jo replies. "Took a while to get back to it after…” she snaps her fingers but doesn’t finish her sentence.

"You were snapped?" Bucky asks.

Jo nods. "Yeah. You?"

"Yeah."

"Cheers," she says sarcastically, raising her glass in a toast. She shakes her head again and pushes her hair behind her ear. "Five years just," she holds her hands open, "gone. Danny was still here, holding all this together by himself."

She tucks one leg under the other, and her knee bumps Bucky’s beneath the table. When she moves to pull her knee away from his, he places a gloved hand on her thigh, holding her leg in place.

Bucky surprises even himself with this move. He hasn’t been this forward with a woman since an auburn-haired nurse in Italy during the war. With her, it was all hands and mouths and skin on skin because he was certain he was going to die any day. Now he supposedly has all the time in the world. He just isn’t sure what he wants to do with it.

But in this moment, he's comfortable here, in this tiny bar, with a beer in his hand and Jo's knee pressed against his. He's confident that Sam would never introduce him to someone he couldn't trust.

Bucky's flirted with Sarah, sure, but that was mostly to irritate to Sam. And as much as he doesn't want to admit it, the thought of something happening between himself and Sarah and then ending badly and ruining his relationship with Sam makes his stomach hurt. Pursuing Jo seems safer in that regard. She and Sam are friends, but if — when, he thinks — he ruins things, he can just go back to New York instead of losing his only friend.

Jo asks Sarah about AJ and Cass to distract herself from the butterflies forming in her stomach at Bucky’s touch, and Sam starts a story about the boys' latest interests. Bucky is content to listen to the three of them talk, his eyes barely leaving Jo. When she flicks her gaze over to him every now and then, she doesn't seem phased by his staring, and she hasn't pulled her knee away from where it's softly touching his. After a while, Danny emerges from behind the bar and joins their table, introducing himself to Bucky with a firm handshake.

While Danny and Sam trade updates about people they know, Jo leans towards Bucky and asks, “You want another drink?”

“Sure,” Bucky replies.

Jo doesn’t say anything else, just nods her head toward the bar, stands, and offers Bucky her hand. He takes it, the leather glove of his right hand warm against her palm. He wishes he could feel her skin without the gloves between them. He doesn’t usually wear them around Sam and Sarah and everyone in Delacroix, but he wasn’t sure how the metal arm would be perceived at this bar he’s never been to. Sam told him not to worry about it, but Bucky doesn’t like to draw unnecessary attention to himself.

Jo leads him through the sea of tables to a barstool, then moves behind the bar and grabs him a fresh bottle of the beer he's been drinking all night. "Unless you want something stronger," she says, pausing before she hands it to him.

"This is good," Bucky replies.

She pops the top and hands him the bottle. He takes a sip as he watches her maneuver around the bartender on duty to fix herself another whiskey sour before taking a seat on the barstool next to him.

"Full disclosure; because it's only fair," she says, taking a sip of her drink. "I know who you are, Sergeant Barnes. Not the whole story, but bits and pieces."

Bucky pauses. He searches her eyes for the fear he's expecting but finds none. "And you're okay with that?" he asks.

Jo quirks the corner of her mouth up in a half-smile and says, “If Sam trusts you, I trust you."

“I’m not great with meeting new people, and I was telling myself the same thing about you," Bucky admits, almost sheepishly.

“You know we can never tell Sam about this, right?" Jo says, conspiratorially. "We’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Never,” Bucky agrees, and knocks his beer bottle lightly against her glass in understanding.

They talk for a while, just the two of them alone at the end of the bar. Jo asks him how he likes Louisiana ("Hot, but the people are friendly"); where he's staying ("Sarah's"); when he's heading back to New York ("A week from tomorrow"); what he likes to do for fun ("Still figuring that out"); his favorite place ("Wakanda") and favorite book ("The Hobbit"); and a myriad of other questions — some of which Bucky answers easily and some that make him pause. He makes her give her own answers to each one in turn.

Jo leans close to Bucky so she can hear him over the noise of the room, and he takes the opportunity to study her features more closely. He's practically mapped all of her face when her eyes leave his for a brief second and land on Sam, Sarah, and Danny staring at them from the table across the room.

"Don't look now," she whispers, leaning even closer, "But we seem to have an audience."

Bucky makes a big show of looking over his shoulder at the group.

"I said 'don't look!'" Jo laughs and swats casually at his arm.

Bucky takes the opportunity to pin her hand with his own, holding it tightly and licking his bottom lip before smiling at her. He can see the blush paint her cheeks and creep down her neck and chest.

He likes Jo, likes how easy it feels to be around her. He isn't used to that. He isn't used to feeling comfortable with people. Hell, he thinks, I barely feel comfortable with myself. But there's something about Jo that makes him feel safe and calm. Of course, there's attraction there — plenty of it — but he's sure it's more than that.

For her part, Jo is enamored with Bucky. She likes his hard edges and his snark, but she also likes the small glimpses he's given her of the man beneath all of that. She doesn't usually fall for people so easily, but she's found herself drowning in the sea of blues that make up Bucky's eyes, and she doesn't want to be rescued. How fucking cliche, she tells herself.

"We should probably go back over there," Bucky says, squeezing her hand once before releasing it.

They both stand and make their way back to the table. Bucky pulls Jo's chair out for her again, but this time, he makes sure to pull it a little closer to his chair in the process. This doesn't go unnoticed by Sam who smirks at him. Bucky returns the smirk with a thin-lipped smile of his own before scooting even closer to Jo.

Jo finds it hard to focus on the conversation in front of her with Bucky's warm body so close to her own, and she realizes she misses the pleasant feeling of his gloved hand around hers. She places her own hand on his thigh and hopes he gets the hint.

Bucky’s fascinated by even the slightest movements of Jo's tattooed fingers, and when her hand rests on his denim-clad thigh, he thinks the sight alone might kill him. Before he can second-guess himself, he pulls the glove off his right hand and links his own flesh and bone fingers with hers.

Jo doesn't look at Bucky — she's trying not to draw attention to her hand in his lap — but Bucky watches the corner of her mouth quirk upwards into a smile, and he squeezes her hand in response.

The conversation continues a bit longer before Danny leaves the table to check in with his bartender. Jo excuses herself to get another drink, and Bucky watches her pop behind the bar to fill a glass for herself.

"I need to get home, relieve the babysitter," Sarah says when she finishes her beer.

"We're heading out then," Sam says, then turns to Bucky, "You coming?"

Bucky looks toward Jo and says, "No, I'm gonna stick around. I'll get a cab back or get a hotel room in the city."

Sam smirks. "I don't think you're gonna need a hotel room, man."

Bucky rolls his eyes.

"Just promise me you'll use protection," Sam laughs. "We don't need any little super soldiers running around just yet."

Bucky gives him a sarcastic smile, but realizes Sam's probably right, and he definitely doesn't have any condoms in his wallet. He's not planning on sleeping with Jo tonight — he just met her, and he's not sure he's ready for that yet — but if the army taught him anything, it's to be prepared. As if reading his mind, Sam pulls out his wallet and places a condom in Bucky's palm before pulling him in for a hug and clapping him on the back.

"Have fun, man," Sam says.

Sam and Sarah say their goodbyes to Danny and Jo on their way out, and Bucky joins Jo at the bar, sitting on the barstool next to her where they sat earlier.

"Sticking around, soldier?" she asks. She reaches for his dog tags and tugs them gently. The drinks have been strong, and she's feeling more flirtatious than she would otherwise.

"If you don't mind," Bucky replies.

Jo smiles and reaches for his hand this time. "Not at all."

"Are you gonna finish your interrogation of me?" Bucky asks, amusement apparent in his voice.

Jo laughs in return. “I thought I'd read your palm instead," she says, turning his hand over in her own.

Bucky snorts but doesn't pull his hand away. "Is this a trick you use on all the guys?"

"And girls," Jo says, meeting his eyes. Then she studies his hand carefully, running her index finger across the lines that crisscross his palm.

"Your dominant hand," she continues, "determines your future, while your non-dominant hand is tied to your past."

Bucky snorts again at the truth of it all.

"I'm not making this up!" Jo laughs. "I mean, someone did, but I'm not!" She can see the laughter shining in Bucky's eyes, so she goes on, "Your head line is deep, meaning your thinking is clear and focused, but it's also curved downward which indicates a creative spirit and an appetite for literature and fantasy." She looks up at him, "Explains the love for Tolkien."

"I'm not sure I'm buying this," Bucky says.

"You've literally fought aliens, and you're gonna give me a hard time over palm reading," Jo laughs.

"The aliens were real," Bucky deadpans.

"And in New Orleans, palm reading and psychics and crystal balls and voodoo are real," Jo says, still laughing. "But I promise not to read your palm again or read your aura or get out the tarot cards."

Bucky likes the way her slight accent makes New Orleans sound more like Nawlins. He also likes the sound of her laughter and the way her face lights up when she smiles. She's still holding his hand in her own, so he turns his palm over in hers and brings her tattooed knuckles to his lips.

_____

Meanwhile, the bar closes, and Danny and the bartender clean glasses and close up for the night.

Danny points at Jo as he comes around the bar. "I’m locking up then heading upstairs," he says.

"Thanks, love," Jo replies.

Danny walks the bartender out and locks the front door, then retraces his steps to the back of the bar. On his way past Jo, he stops and kisses her on the cheek, saying, "Be good. And set the alarm."

He turns to Bucky. "And you, Sergeant Barnes," he says, pointing at him now, "I know you're an Avenger or whatever, but if you hurt her, I'll kill you."

"Bye, Danny," Jo says, rolling her eyes as he disappears through the door marked 'Employees Only.' "Don't worry about him," Jo says, turning back to Bucky.

“Older brother, right?” Bucky says. He understands; he was an older brother once.

“Twins, actually,” Jo smiles.

Bucky takes a sip of his beer. "Sarah said Danny served with Sam," he says.

"Yeah. Afghanistan. A lifetime ago," Jo says. “He only had one more mission before he could come home so he switched with someone. An RPG barely missed the helicopter he was in, and he was pretty badly injured in the explosion and the resulting crash. Almost lost an eye. He came home, got out of the Air Force, went to business school. Now we own the bar..." She pauses to take the last sip of her drink. "...and the building. Sam's really helped Danny get past everything."

"He's good at that," Bucky says.

"Another thing we can never tell him," Jo laughs.

"Agreed. So, when do I get to ask about your tattoos?" he questions.

"What do you want to know?" she asks.

Bucky licks his bottom lip. "Anything."

He likes her dagger tattoo the best. It’s inked on the inside of her right forearm, nestled amongst the peonies, the hilt facing the crook of her elbow and the knife’s tip pointed toward her wrist. It’s feminine and dangerous and incredibly sexy. She blushes when he tells her how much he likes it. He doesn't tell her it reminds him of one of his favorite knives, currently tucked at the bottom of his backpack back in Sarah's living room.

"In some ways, they're my armor," she explains. "When I'm on stage, people look at the tattoos, not me, and I kind of like that. It lets me be whoever I want to up there."

Bucky understands the desire to hide better than anyone. But she knows who he is so there's really no point in hiding from her any longer. Plus, he feels like his arm is something she would understand, something she could accept — not just because of her brother's military record but because of her own unique body modifications.

He pulls his left glove off and shrugs out of his leather jacket, revealing the vibranium arm beneath his black t-shirt.

Jo takes in the black metal and gold details. "That," she says, pointing to his arm, "is lovely."

"It's lethal," Bucky warns.

She cocks her head to the side and says, "If you're trying to scare me, it won't work, Sergeant Barnes."

Bucky can't stop the corner of his lip from pulling up in the slightest hint of a smile.

"Okay,” she says, placing her palms flat on the bar top. “You want another beer?" she asks.

Jo stands and turns to move behind the bar, but Bucky's vibranium hand on her arm stops her. She looks at him curiously, and he slides his arm behind her back and pulls her flush against his chest. She settles between his open thighs, her palms resting gently on top of his legs. He's staring at her so intensely she's convinced he willburn that hole right through her, but she can't bring herself to look away.

He leans in, his lips only a breath away from hers.

"Can I kiss you?" Bucky finally asks, his flesh hand moving up to cup her cheek.

"Please," Jo whispers, desperately.

Bucky closes the distance between them, and his lips meet hers. He's hesitant at first, but when he feels Jo respond, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing even closer, he runs his tongue along the seam of her lips until she opens them for him. She tastes like bourbon and lemon from the whiskey sours she's been drinking, and Bucky loves it. His tongue sweeps along the roof of her mouth, and Jo moans. Bucky is determined to hear that sound again.

He kisses across the corner of her mouth and over her jaw. The hand that was cupping her cheek moves to her hair to angle her head backwards and give him better access to the bare skin of her neck. He laves his tongue over the corded muscles there, then nips at the skin with his teeth. She moans again, and Bucky is on fire.

Jo's right hand weaves into his short hair and tugs until his mouth comes away from her neck. He catches his breath while Jo nuzzles his nose with her own and places a soft kiss against the Cupid's bow of his upper lip. His eyes meet hers, and her pupils are blown wide with lust.

The need to kiss her again is overwhelming. Bucky’s lips find hers, and Jo somehow leans even closer into his body, her hands tracing down his chest to his waist. Bucky lets his own hands move to Jo’s ribs, resting just beneath her chest, his thumbs teasing the underside of each breast. Jo gasps when Bucky’s right thumb moves across her taut nipple.

Fuck, he thinks, I need to slow down. While he’s shared kisses with the handful of women he’s met on dating apps, he hasn’t done anything this intimate in a lifetime.

Bucky pulls away, panting. He rests his forehead against Jo's and stares into her green eyes.

"I should leave," he says. “I’m getting carried away. I…I want to do this right.”

And he does. Desperately. He wants to buy her flowers and take her out and learn what makes her swoon. But he also wants to map every tattoo on her body with his fingers and tongue and then fuck her until she can’t walk straight.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

Jo laughs breathily. “We don’t have to do anything, but it’s almost three o'clock in the morning and your ride already left. You can sleep on my couch if you want to be a gentleman.”

Bucky groans. “I should be a gentleman."

She kisses him again, lightly, then moves away to set the alarm and turn the rest of the lights out. She leads him through the 'Employees Only' door and up a set of stairs to her apartment.

"You're not allergic to cats, are you?" Jo asks, as she unlocks the door.

"No," Bucky says. As far as he knows, he's not allergic to anything thanks to the knock-off serum, but he doesn't say that.

Inside her apartment, Jo kicks off her combat boots at the door, and Bucky does the same, leaving them both in their socked feet. There's a fluffy black cat sitting on the back of the green velvet sofa.

"That's Toulouse," Jo says. "Or Louie. He doesn't answer to either, so it really doesn't matter what I call him."

The cat regards Bucky with indifference before standing up, stretching, and leaving the room.

"Guest bathroom’s just there,” she nods. “Let me get you some blankets and pillows for the couch," Jo continues. "Unless you've changed your mind about being a gentleman." She smirks at him.

Bucky laughs through his nose. “Don’t tempt me.”

Jo leaves the room for a moment, which gives Bucky a chance to look around. He's standing in her living room; one wall features a set of French doors that lead to a balcony overlooking the street, and the opposite wall holds bookcases stuffed from floor to ceiling with books, framed photographs, and various knick-knacks. From where he stands, he can see a small room with an upright piano and guitars hanging on the walls. The exterior walls of Jo's apartment are brick, and everything else is set in jewel tones. He likes it. It's dark and cozy, and from what he knows of Jo so far, her living space matches her well.

When she returns, Jo is holding a stack of blankets and pillows. She sets them on the ottoman and moves across the room to close the curtains.

"There are some sweats and a t-shirt there that should fit you" she says, turning to Bucky.

"Thanks," Bucky says, smiling softly.

Now that they're here, in her apartment, Bucky isn't sure what he's supposed to do or say. He can still feel the heat of Jo's lips on his, and he's painfully aware that the condom Sam gave him is still in his pocket.

Jo must sense the hesitation rolling off him because she crosses the room to stand in front of him and takes his hands in hers.

"Get some sleep, Sarge," she says, squeezing his hands in tandem before dropping them.

"Goodnight, Jo," Bucky returns.

_____

Bucky lays on Jo's couch in the dark beneath blankets that smell like laundry detergent. He wishes they smelled like her. He unlocks his phone and looks up the distance between New Orleans and Brooklyn. Just over thirteen hundred miles. He sighs and drops his phone onto the coffee table before closing his eyes and reliving each kiss as he falls asleep.

On the other side of the wall, Jo falls across her bed, deflated. She likes this guy. She wants him — painfully so. But leave it to her to fall for the one guy in her bar who lives half-way across the country.

_____

next chapter

[creepypasta-archive]

Voicebox: A Ticci Tobi Love Story: Chapter 1

by Absolon-Resonance

This story shouldn't be here as it doesn't contain enough Jeff and it's way more focused on Ticci Tobi. But the levels of Iconic in this Epic of Romance, Drama, Suspense, Magicks and Horror deserves to be archived, preserved and spread, regardless of my opinion on canonicity. I recommend HoodoHoodlumsRevenge reading (aka Ticci Tuesdays)The story is long enough to require spliting it in chapters

CW// sexual assault, incest, sexual harrasement, domestic violence, bullying, gore, cannibalism, implied pedophilia, fraticide, homicide, mutation, cheating, torture, eye trauma, improper teen behaviour, nudity, mental illness misrepresentation, cringe memes, Slendermansion

Click below to read the original unedited story

The day my life changed forever started out like every other day. It was the same routine for the last 7 years, ever since I had turned 10. I woke up at 6:00 am, took a quick shower, tossed on my favorite black skinny jeans, a black Hollywood Undead t-shirt, my crimson hoodie and my red and black running shoes. I pulled my long brown hair up in a ponytail, covered the bruises on my pale face with some makeup, grabbed my backpack for school, and woke up my 6 year-old little sister, Benna. I quickly got her dressed and ready for school, feed her breakfast and took her over to her babysitter. Luckily her babysitter only lives a few houses down so I had time to drop her off and rush back home to make breakfast for my parents. Just like every day I hoped to have breakfast cooked and be out the door before my parents woke up, but once again I was just a little too slow. As I finished cooking my mother walked in and gave me her usual greeting, a punch to the stomach that dropped me to my knees and a swift kick in the ribs. “Get your lazy ass up and clean up the mess you made in the kitchen Shayla, you useless bitch.” She said as she calmly sat down to eat the breakfast I had cooked. I nodded quickly and got to work on the kitchen, still hoping to get out of there before my father came down. I’m just glad that I am able to protect Benna from our parents. As much as my mother’s continual physical and emotional abuse hurt it was nowhere near as bad as my fathers “punishments.” I just had a “punishment” last night since Mother had to work late and I didn’t want to get another one after Mother left for work so I cleaned as fast as I could. Luckily that day I was able to get out before he came down. So for me it started out a better day than most. After catching the bus to school I hurried to my locker. Once again I hoped that I could avoid Jeanie and her group. Jeanie, her boyfriend Biff, Biff’s friend Joel, and Joel’s girlfriend Roxanne were the biggest bullies in the school. They were also the head cheerleaders and the captain and quarterback of the football team, so of course in the teachers’ eyes they could do no wrong. They had bullied me ever since third grade and the abuse from them got worse every year.

I quickly grabbed my books for the first half the day and started walking as quickly as I could without running to English class. Luckily I made it to class without being caught. Unfortunately I knew there would be no hiding from them after school. They had made sure of that the day before when they caused me to get detention. Jeanie had been beating me in the girls’ locker room after gym class and when she heard someone come in she rammed her head into the locker and screamed, so of course everyone believed that I had been attacking her. I had tried for years to tell the teachers and the principal what really happens between Jeanie, her friends and me, but of course they never believed me. No one ever believed me, probably because I have a couple disorders that make people think I’m a freak. It’s not my fault that my eyes are two different colors. My right eye is a piercing light blue, like the color of a Siberian husky’s eyes. My left eye is a bright emerald green. I also can’t help that I was diagnosed with Tourette’s syndrome when I was 10; shortly after my older sister, Rebekah, and I were in a car accident. I survived without any physical damage, but my sister didn’t and my parents always blamed me for that. I can’t help the twitching that happens or the spontaneous low pitched sinister sounding giggles that freak people out. Anyway the day went on like usual. People either ignored me or made fun of me, at lunch I sat in the library by myself. I never ate lunch at school, my parents wouldn’t let me take a lunch nor would they give me money to buy lunch. After school I went to detention. No one else was there today so I had plenty of time to do my homework. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to do it tonight. Mother and Father would be waiting for me to come home from detention so they could beat me again. I knew that Benna would already be in bed by the time I got home, and I hope that Mother and Father didn’t hurt her while I wasn’t there. I just hoped that Mother didn’t leave me alone with Father again like the last time I got detention. I didn’t think I could take Father’s “punishment” two days in a row, I was still sore from the night before. I really hated my life. If it wasn’t for my need to protect Benna I would have run away a long time ago. After detention I tried to make a run for it, but as soon as I left school ground Biff and Joel grabbed me and dragged me into the nearby woods. I tried to scream and struggled to get away, but Joel punched me in the face and I lost consciousness for a few minutes. When I woke up I found myself laying in a small clearing in the woods, I knew this clearing. I had come out here a few times to escape from my life for a while. I was only about a fifteen minute walk from home. I thought that if I could just get away I could make it home before they caught me again, but then I saw Jeanie and Roxanne. I knew I couldn’t get away from all of them. “Well, well, well, what do we have here, hmm?” Jeanie’s shrill voice was so irritating as she smirked over at Roxanne, Joel and Biff. “Looks like the Freak tried to run again. Well boys, I think it’s time to get rid of that eyesore don’t you?” Roxanna chimed in as she handed Joel and Biff large curved skinners. The faint light from the setting sun made the blades gleam a menacing orange. “Thanks babe, you and Jeanie should head back to set up for the party tonight. Biff and I can handle this little slut.” Joel chuckled as he sat on my stomach and almost playfully ran the blade down the right side of my face, causing a shallow wound. I could feel the blood running down my cheek into my hair and I started twitching, my involuntary muscle spasms made

Roxanne and Jeanie laugh. “Well, have fun boy; just remember to clean up before you come to the party. Skank blood stinks.” Jeanie said as she and Roxanne left. There was silence for a few before Joel smirked up at Biff. “You thinking what I’m thinking bro?” Joel asked. “Yeah, let’s have some fun with the little slut before we kill her.” Biff’s eyes were full of lust as he looked at me before turning and starting to walk away. “You go ahead first Joel. I know how much you love it when they fight back. I’ll be over there. Call me when you’re done man.” “Sure thing bro,” Joel said with a grim chuckle, “now then let’s see what you hide under that hoody of yours.” As Joel started to rip my hoody off I started to struggle as my twitching got worse. They were going to “punish” me like Father did and then kill me. If I died what happened to me could happen to my little sister. All the years of torture and anguish flooded through my mind as I struggled. The anger and hatred I felt for everyone but my little Benna built and I suddenly felt stronger than I ever had before. The small voice in the back of my mind that would whisper to me in my dreams was suddenly loud and clear. They should all just die! We don’t have to take this anymore Shayla! Stop being weak and fight back! Kill them! Kill them all! And for once I did as she said. In a move too fast for Joel to counter I rolled my hips and pinned him under me. Before he could call out to Biff for help I sank my teeth into his throat and ripped it out, taking his voice box with a large chunk of his throat. He gurgled as his blood rushed out and the light started to fade from his eyes. The taste of his bloody vocal cords was so delicious that I sighed with pleasure as I devoured the delectable treat. I had never tasted anything so exquisite in my life. As I got off Joel’s lifeless body I noticed the skinner on the ground and picked it up. The blade really was beautiful. Good job Shayla. That’s my good, sweet girl. Now we just have to get rid of Biff and those so-called parents of ours. We’ll leave the bitches for another day. I got up and silently walked in the direction Biff had gone. The twitching in my face and neck slowed down and I knew it wouldn’t be long before they stopped and the giggling started so I went as fast as I could while staying silent. I crept up on Biff as he leaned against a tree. I smirked when I saw that Biff had his pants down around his thighs and he was moaning softly. His eyes were closed so I snuck up on him and grabbed the other skinner he had left on the ground. His eyes shot open as I pressed one of the cold blades to his neck and a look of horror came over his face as he saw me. I started giggling in a low and sinister tone as I smirked at him. “Biff, Biff, Biff. It looks like we caught you at a bad time.” I whispered in his ear as I continued giggling. When he tried to move I pressed on the blade a little harder causing blood to flow down his neck. Then I lifted the other skinner so that he could see it and slowly lowered it down to his now deflated manhood. “Oh dear, it seems you’re not happy to see us right now. We thought you wanted to have a little fun with us. But guess you’re not in the mood. That’s alright though; we don’t think you’re going to need this anymore.” With a quick flick of my wrist I severed off the head that did Biff’s thinking for him.

Both the voice in my head and I giggled as he let out an agonized scream. I was still a little hungry and was tired of playing with the piece of shit in front of me so while he was screaming and crying I took the skinner that had stolen his manhood and pierced his skull right between the eyes and into his brain. When he fell to the ground I sank my teeth into his neck and tore out his vocal cords too. I moaned in ecstasy as I savored my new favorite treat. Come now Shayla, it’s time to take care of the trash at home. Ok, I thought to the voice in my head as I headed home. So do you have a name? It would be awkward to call you ‘Hey you’ when I talk with you. You can call me Voicebox. You know you really should have listen to me years ago when our Father started ‘punishing’ us. I’m sorry Voicebox. I couldn’t hear you clearly until just know with Joel. I understand Shayla dear. But you hear me now and that is what is most important. I will never let anyone hurt you ever again. Whenever you need me I will be here. Thank you Voicebox. We will have to run after we kill Mother and Father, what should we do about Benna? We will take her to Grandmama and Grandpapa. They are the only ones we can trust to keep Benna safe. They would be appalled at what our parents have done to us if they knew.We finished the walk in silence. I decided to wait for Mother and Father to go to bed before killing them. As much as I want to make them suffer for everything they had done I also just wanted to get rid of them, get Benna to our grandparents and get out of here. Besides there was always the chance that they could scream and alert the neighbors or wake up Benna and that was a risk I wasn’t willing to take.

Chapter 2

It was midnight when I finally entered my house. My parents had gone to bed three hours ago and since they are heavy sleepers I knew I didn’t have to worry about them waking up any time soon. I snuck up the stairs being careful to avoid the loose board on the fourth step and slipped into my parent’s bedroom. They looked so peaceful sleeping there, as if they didn’t have a care in the world. Rage filled my mind as all the abuse they had inflicted on me over the last 7 years fills my mind. Shayla, it will be alright. We will never have to worry about them again. Kill them now, we have to protect Benna. I know, Voicebox. If I leave them alive they will just hurt Benna. They deserve to die a slow painful death, but we don’t have the time for that. I tightened my grip on the skinners and felt my mouth stretch into a smile. I walked over to the bed and slowly crawled up the bed until I was directly between my parents. I raised both skinners up over my head and slammed them both down at the same time into my parents’ heads. Rage had given me more strength than I thought and the skinners sunk into their heads all the way to the handles. I giggled that sinister giggle again as I wrenched the skinners out of their skulls. The blood started to flow out of the puncture wound in their heads. I then tore out their vocal cords with my bare hands and ate them. Oh how I loved the taste. Once I finished my treat I went and took a quick shower since the killing had been so silent I didn’t need to worry about leaving quickly. I loved the feel of the warm water caressing my skin. I felt something wet and furry brush against my calves and quickly looked over my shoulder to see what it was. I felt my eyes widen and my mouth dropped open when I saw that I now had a very beautiful red tail. I concentrated on moving it and it moved. I ran my hands through the fur and shivered in pleasure as I stroked my new tail. I noticed that the tip of my tail was black; it looked like a fox tail.

I felt my ears twitch, but they were no longer on the sides of my head. I reached up and found large furry ears on top of my head. I would have screamed, but I knew I couldn’t draw attention to the house or I would be in deep trouble. I quickly turned the water off and rung the water out of my hair, which I now noticed was blood red, and out of my tail. I had to see what I looked like. I stepped out of the shower, dried off, and used the towel to wipe the steam off the mirror. I was shocked when I saw my new looks. I had two red fox ears with black tips on top of my head, a healed scar on my right cheek from when Joel had cut me, but the most striking difference was my left eye. Instead of the brilliant emerald green I had since birth, it was black with a slitted blood red puple and there was black oozing from it, like I was crying black tears. The way it was slitted reminded me of a cat’s eye. I tilted my head and smiled a big toothy grin and noticed that my canine teeth were longer and sharper than they had been. I loved this new look. I looked at the blood stained hoody and jean I had been wearing and thought that I should have a new outfit to match my new looks. I went back to my parents’ room and raided Mother’s closet. Most of her close were business outfits, but in the very back I noticed an outfit that was just right for my new looks. It was a long sleeved, very short leather top and a very short leather skirt. The sleeves of the top were black with red stripes; the rest was a sky blue color that matched the skirt. I grabbed the outfit and some black leather boots and headed to my room to get dressed. I tossed on a black lacy thong, the outfit and the boots, which came up to mid-thigh, and stood in front of the full length mirror in my room. The leather shirt covered most of my breasts and acted like a bra, but left the underside of my breasts exposed. Another thing I noticed was that the bruises from all those beating had disappeared. We look great, Shayla. Now we should take all the money our parents have, pack a bag for Benna, get Benna to our grandparents’ house and get out of here. You might also want to add a black leather belt so when we get the sheaths for the skinners from Roxanne we can have easy access to them. Great idea, Voicebox. I think I saw one in Mother’s room. After I packed some of my clothes and essentials in my teal backpack, tucked the skinners in the side pocket and went to the kitchen. I raided the pantry for all the non-perishable food I could find, some silverware and dishes and a can opener and stuffed it all in my backpack. Then I ran back to my parents’ room, grabbed the belt, put it on, and raided my parents’ wallets and the small lock box, and headed to Benna’s room. I grabbed her purple duffle bag and threw in a bunch of clothes and her favorite toys. Then I picked her up, making sure that her blanket was wrapped tightly around her and headed out of the house. In this case I was happy that it was difficult to wake Benna up.

It was about three in the morning when I headed out for our grandparents’ house, so the streets were empty. Benna sleep through the whole three hour walk, it was just before six in the morning when I laid Benna on the porch swing, put her duffle bag in front of the door, rang the doorbell and hid in the nearby bushes. It took Grandpapa a few minutes to answer the door and he looked puzzled at first, until he saw the duffle bag. I saw him look around and notice Benna. As soon as he picked her up and went inside I took off into the woods. I decided to stay in the old fort Rebekah and I had made just before she died. It wasn’t too far from my house and I needed some sleep before I head back out to deal with Roxanne and Jeanie. It was already dark by the time I woke up. I checked my watch and saw it was already 8:00 pm, so after eating a couple of Poptarts and grabbing my skinners I headed over to Roxanne’s house. Voicebox and I talked during the hour it took to reach our destination. We planned to head out of town as soon as I finished killing those stupid girls. We hadn’t decide where exactly we would go, but we both thought it was best to get as far away from here as we could, seeing how by then we will have killed six or more people, depending if I had to kill the girls’ parents. When I reached Roxanne’s the place was empty, but after a little searching I found out that her parents’ were out of town on a business trip and she was staying at Jeanie’s. I grinned at this because Jeanie lived outside of town. Her nearest neighbor was three miles away and her house was close to the woods, making for a fast getaway. I searched Roxanne’s room and found the sheaths for my skinners and attached them to my belt. Then I headed back to the fort for my backpack since I would be able to kill them both tonight I would just head out right from Jeanie’s house and I could even take a shower before leaving. I started twitching and giggling as I hiked to Jeanie’s. By the time I reached Jeanie’s I had myself under control again. It was now about 11:00 and the house was dark and silent. Shayla, kill her parents first. Then we can have some fun with those two before we kill them. Great idea, I’ll see what I can find to tie them up with in her parents’ room. I’ll have to be very quick and quiet while tying them up. I checked the back door of the house and found that the idiots hadn’t even locked it. Slowly and quietly I snuck up the stairs and peeked in the rooms. I found her parents’ room and crawled to the end of their bed. This kill was almost too easy. Jeanie’s mom had her head resting on her husband’s chest. I quickly stabbed the skinners into their skulls, killing them before they even had a chance to open their eyes. I quickly cut out their vocal cords and ate them while I searched their room for belts or scarves to tie Jeanie and Roxanne up with.

I was in luck; Jeanie’s dad had a lot of belts. I grabbed eight of them and snuck into Jeanie’s room. Both girls were fast asleep on Jeanie’s bed. I carefully tied them up with the belts, first by slowly and carefully stretching their arms up and tying them to the bars of the headboard. I was careful to spread them far enough apart that they wouldn’t be able to untie themselves. I did the same with their ankles and the bars of the footboard. Once they were safely secured I started giggling sinisterly. They both woke up with a start and tried to sit up only to find out they couldn’t. The fear and panic on their faces made me grin revealing my sharp canines. They both started yelling for Jeanie’s parents and demanding that I release them. “Did you really think that we wouldn’t have taken care of your parents before we came for our revenge?” I chuckled as I drew the skinners out of their sheaths “Shayla!!! What…How…Why…” Roxanne stuttered. “Let us go you skanky bitch!” Jeanie yelled. “I don’t think so Jeanie. After all I thought you might like to be reunited with your boyfriends and parents. It’s just too bad that Roxanne’s parents couldn’t join the party, but I’ll make sure they join you soon enough.” Before they had time to say anything else I cut their cheeks just like Joel had cut mine. I felt my tail swishing back and forth with glee as I started leaving shallow cuts all over the girls. I grinned as their screams of agony and fear serenaded me. It was music to my ears to hear them suffer just as I had. After a few hours of torturing them I ripped Roxanne’s vocal cords out with my teeth. I grinned at Jeanie and she watched with horrified eyes as I ate them. Roxanne gurgled as she choked to death on her own blood. “Don’t worry Jeanie; you’ll be joining her soon.” I said, but to my surprise it was Roxanne’s voice that came out of my throat. I giggled again and tore Jeanie’s throat out too. I ate her vocal cords too and laughed as she too drowned in her own blood. It was at that moment that I heard clapping from the doorway of the room. I spun around, raised my skinners, and growled at the figure standing there. He was taller than me, maybe about 6’1” tall. He was thin, but even with the bloodstained white hoody on I could tell he was fit. His hair was coal black and hung down to his shoulders. But these things were not what really caught my attention. It was his face that intrigued me. It was white, not the normal Caucasian white, but white, white, like it had been bleached. His eyes were large and unblinking; I could see that his eyelids had been burnt off. As if that wasn’t unusual enough there was his smile. His lips were a burnt red and he had deep gashes in his cheeks extending his smile almost to his ears. But the most perplexing thing was that while I knew I should be scared of him and the giant butcher knife in his hand, I wasn’t. “Who are you and what do you want?” I growled. “Name’s Jeff, Jeff the Killer. What I wanted sweetcheeks, was to kill these idiot. Unfortunately it looks like I got here too late. Well, not too late to watch the show you put on with those girls. I gotta say I’m impressed with how you handle those skinners.” He chuckled.

Don’t give him your real name, Shayla. Tell him that you are Voicebox. We will share that name from now on. Alright Voicebox. “The name is Voicebox, not sweetcheeks.” I replied. I wasn’t about to let my guard down with Jeff, he is, after all, a killer. “Nice name, sweetcheeks. You know I have some friends that would find you as interesting as I do. You ever heard of the Creepypastas?” “No. What are the Creepypastas?” “Well to human’s we’re urban legends and scary stories. But what we really are is practically immortal killers. Most of us live in Slender Mansion with Slenderman. You do realize that you are a new Creepypasta right?” “Really, so that’s what I am.” “Yep, and that means you can live with us in Slender Mansion.” “I don’t know…” Shayla, go with him. I know that everything will be alright. We can trust Slenderman. Are you sure we can trust him? I’m sure. Slenderman may be a killer, but he would never harm us. Alright. “Ok, just let me grab my backpack and we can head out.” “No problem, sweetcheeks.” He grinned bigger as I growled at him. “My name is Voicebox. Don’t call me sweetcheeks.” I sheathed my skinners and left the room. Jeff followed behind me and we left the house. I grabbed my backpack and motioned for Jeff to take the lead. He smirked as he lead me deeper into the wood. We soon reached a large cherry tree in a clearing. I was confused as to why Jeff had lead me here, until he walked up to the tree and shoved a key into a small knot hole in the trunk. There was a slight rumbling sound as a doorway appeared in the trunk of the tree. Jeff motioned for me to follow him as he walked through the doorway. The first thing I saw after I passed through the doorway was a huge mansion. It looked slightly creepy and possibly abandoned. Jeff grabbed my wrist and tugged me towards the mansion. “Well, this is Slender Mansion. Don’t worry, sweetcheeks, it looks much better on the inside.” “Jeff, quit calling me sweetcheeks.” I said as he opened the door. “Hey Slendy, I’m back and I brought a friend.” He yelled. “Child do not call me Slendy, and you know you are not supposed to…” I heard the deep voice trail off. I looked away from Jeff and saw an 8’ or 9’ tall man in a black business suit and no face standing in the foyer. “Daughter…you are alive.” The man Jeff called Slendy said as he scooped me up in a tight hug. “I thought you both your sister and you died with your mother.” “Huh, Slendy what do you mean daughter? Since when do you got kids?” Jeff looked just as confused as I was. “I’m sorry, but I think you might be confused. I just killed my parents yesterday.” “Shayla, you would not remember since you were very young when your mother died, but did your aunt never tell you? What about your sister Rebekah, is she still alive too?” “Whose Shayla, she said her name is Voicebox?” Shayla, Slenderman is telling you the truth. He is our father. The people you called your parents were actually our mother’s sister and her husband. Benna is our cousin. Our aunt should have told you about our mother years ago, but she never knew who our father was. Now answer our father, tell him what happened to Rebekah. He deserves to know everything, and I mean everything. He needs to know what our Uncle did to us. I’ll tell him about Rebekah, but I don’t want to tell him everything until we are alone. It is no one else’s business. Very well. “Father, I do go by Voicebox now. As for Rebekah, she died…ten years ago in a car accident. I’m sorry; no one ever told me that I was adopted.” “That is alright my dear. I have mourned for your mother and sister for 17 years. I am just happy that I have you back. Come, daughter, let me introduce you to the rest of the household. Then later tonight we shall sit down and get to know each other.” Father finally put me down and lead me into the living room. There were six guys sitting around playing games, talking or reading.“Everyone, I have someone I would like to introduce you too.” With that six pairs of eyes looked over towards me. “Everyone, this is my daughter, Voicebox.”

Chapter 3

The six people who were sitting in the living room stared at Father as if he had grown a second head. There was one in black and white who looked like a gothic clown with a striped cone nose. His jaw dropped and a bunch of half chewed candy fell out. Sitting on the floor in front of the T.V. was a boy who looked a lot like Link, but had black eyes with red pupils. After staring at Father for a minute his eyes landed on me and he gave me a perverted grin. A young man in black and dark blue, wearing a dark blue mask with black ooze coming out of the eye sockets was sitting in a chair with an open book in his lap. I couldn’t really tell what he was thinking because of his mask. One the couch were three young men, two of them were wearing masks, the third had some kind of mouth guard on and orange goggles. One of the masked men was wearing an orange hoody that shaded his face, leaving only glowing red eyes and a red stitched frown showing. The other masked man was wearing a yellow hoody and his mask was white with black eyes and a black painted mouth. The man with the goggles and mouth guard was wearing a brown long sleeved hoody with grey and brown stripped sleeves and was sharpening two hatchets while twitching every now and then. Jeff stood behind me laughing at the others in the room. With all the staring I was starting to get nervous and I started twitching again. At first no one said anything, but I could sense that they were all looking at me. My tail started swishing back and forth and I started to get irritated with the starting, especially from the Link look-alike. “Voicebox, these are my three proxies. Masky, Hoodie, and Ticci Toby.” He said as he pointed them out to me. By this time my twitching was getting bad, my neck started cracking and my lips started twitching into a smile every few seconds. “That is Laughing Jack, most people call him L.J., next is Eyeless Jack, most call him E.J., and last is BEN Drowned. BEN, stop thinking like that about my daughter.” “N…nice to m…meet you.” I greeted between the twitches. I was hoping that I could leave the room soon, I could feel the twitching start to lessen, and I really didn’t want to start giggling in front of everyone. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to leave in time. As the guys in the room started greeting me in return the twitching stopped and my sinister giggling started. I could tell I was blushing as my giggling took hold. “S…sorry. C…can’t h…help it.” I managed to get out between the giggling. “I h…have Tou…Tourette S…Syndrome. I…it w…will s…stop in a mi…minute.” “That’s cool babe, I like your laugh.” BEN smirked as he winked at me. “So do you like videogames, babe?” “D…don’t call m…me babe. My n…name is V…Voicebox. Videogames a…are ok.” My giggling was finally starting to die down. “Ha, Ha, Ha, I agree with BEN. Ha, Ha, Ha, your giggling is very cute, Voicebox.”

L.J. said as he stuffed more candy in his mouth. “Ha, Ha, Ha, do you like candy?” “I like candy ev…every once in a wh…while.” “How do you feel about eating kidneys?” E.J. asked. “Um…I prefer vocal cords, but whatever floats your boat.” “Hoodie and I want to know if you like cheesecake.” Masky said. “I love cheesecake, who wouldn’t like cheesecake.” “Do you like pancakes?” Toby asked. “I adore pancakes, especially blueberry pancakes with boysenberry preserves on them.” By this time my giggling had completely stopped and I smiled at them revealing my sharp canine teeth. After chatting with the boys for a while and explaining how I was Slenderman’s daughter I started yawning. Father sent everyone to bed and asked me to follow him to his office. I waved goodnight to everyone, BEN smirked and winked at me and Jeff, of course called me sweetcheeks again which earned them both growls from me and a smack to the back of their heads from Father. I followed Father up the stairs and down a few corridors to his office; the door was black and had a white circle with a white X through it. Inside the office was a large desk, three walls covered in floor to ceiling bookshelves crowded with books, and a few chairs. Father sat down in the tall chair behind the desk and motioned for me to sit down in one of the other chairs. “Shayla, tell me about your life. I have missed so much; I wish I had known you were still alive. I would have brought you and Rebekah to live with me hear if I had only known.” I swear that I could see pain on Father’s featureless face. I suspect that he would have cried if he could have. “Father,” I sighed, “there is so much to tell you. I just ask that you listen to everything I have to say before you say anything.” “Of course, daughter.” Father said in a worried tone. Remember Shayla, you must tell him everything. He will be angry, but not with us. He loves us and would never hurt us. Trust me on this. I do trust you Voicebox. You may not always tell me everything, but you have not lied to me before and I doubt you will start now. I took a deep, calming breath and started telling Father about how life was ok while Rebekah was alive, but I knew that she was getting hit by the people I thought were my parents. I explained that I knew that Rebekah was protecting me, but that after she died they had turned their abuse towards me and how I stayed to protect Benna from their cruelty. I told him about the bullying and the teasing from the other kids at school. It was especially difficult to tell Father about the “punishments” I would receive from the man who I had thought was my father. Finally I told him about killing Biff, Joel, my “parents”, Jeanie’s parents, Jeanie and Roxanne. The entire time I was telling Father about my life, I started at my hands as I stroked my tail for comfort. I was afraid to look at Father, afraid that he would blame me for being raped. Most people blame the girl, said she was begging for it and lying about it.

A few minutes after I finished telling Father about my life, I felt his tendrils lift me up and he pulled me into a hug. He rocked me back and forth as though I was still a baby and wiped away the tears I hadn’t know I was crying. I noticed that the tears from my left eye were as black as night but the tears from my right eye were blood red. I looked up at Father and hugged him back, sobbing into his suit jacket. Finally I could let my tears fall, I cried out all the loneliness and pain I had felt for so many years. There was finally someone there who would hold me like Rebekah had; with love and understanding. After crying for about half an hour I drifted off to sleep, still cuddled in Father’s arms as he whispered words of love and comfort to me. I felt like I was finally home. I woke up the next morning in a large canopy bed. The silk sheets were blood red, the blanket was white with a black forest scene on it, the bed itself was made of purple heart wood, and the canopy was as red as the sheets. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, got up and looked around the room. The walls were painted sky blue and there was a dresser, a desk, and a vanity all made of purple heart wood like the bed. The carpet was black, there was a large bay window with a built in love seat and there were three doors in the room. I walked to the door nearest to the window and found a walk in closet with a wide selection of clothes, everything from jeans and tee-shirts to formal dresses. I also found my backpack and I picked out some underclothes, a pair of black low-rider jeans, a blue spaghetti strap belly shirt and a pair of black running shoes. I checked the second door on the same wall and found a private bathroom. With a squeal of delight I tossed my clothes on the white marble countertop, ran back to my backpack, grabbed my lavender scented shampoo, conditioner, body wash, my wild cherry blossom deodorant, my hairbrush, toothbrush and toothpaste, and ran back to take a shower. I found some towels and washcloths under the sink and enjoyed the relaxing hot water. For once I was truly happy and I started to sing my favorite song, “Come Little Children” by Erutan. Once I was done I quickly dried off, changed into my outfit, put my clothes in the hamper and opened the door. To my surprise I found that my room had been invaded while I was in the bathroom. BEN, E.J., L.J., Masky, Hoody, Toby, Jeff and a cute little girl in a torn pink dress with brown messy hair and blood on her face were sitting in my room. The little girl jumped up off the bed and ran over to me as she held a brown teddy bear in her arms and smiled up at me. “Hello miss Voicebox. I’m Sally and this is Charlie. You sing really pretty, will you play with me?” She said as she looked up at me with large green eyes full of joy.

“Well hello Sally and Charlie, it’s nice to meet you,” I said as I squatted down to her level. “I would love to play with you, but I’m kind of hungry. Maybe we could have breakfast together first and then play. Would that be ok?” “Sure, I’ll show you to the kitchen, Daddy Slendy should have breakfast ready soon.” “Sally,” I whispered to her as I bent closer to her, “do you know why everyone seems to be in my room?” “Yep.” She whispered back. “They heard your singing and came here so they could hear it better. BEN wanted to go into the bathroom, but the others wouldn’t let him.” “I see, thank you. If you would wait just a minute while I talk to the guys, I would love to walk down to the kitchen with you. I haven’t been there yet so I could use the help finding it.” “Ok. You’re real nice, miss Voicebox. Charlie says he likes you.” “Thank you Charlie, I like you too.” I stood up and looked at the guys. I raised an eyebrow and said in a very cold tone of voice, “you know boys it isn’t polite to come into a girl’s room without permission. I would appreciate if you would get my permission first. If not then I could always do to you what I did to Biff, and remove the head that does your thinking for you. Now if you would all be so kind as to leave, I would like to finish getting ready for breakfast without a male audience.” With that the boys all rushed out of my room, BEN looked almost as white as Jeff, and even Jeff looked a bit paler than he had been. I giggled as I walked over to the vanity and sat down to brush out my hair. When I was done I sat Sally down on the chair and fixed her hair up in a French braid. Then Sally and I walked down to the kitchen together. All the boys were seated at the table while Father was standing at the stove finishing up breakfast. I noticed that none of the boys were looking at me, and smirked. I helped Sally into her seat and walked over to Father. “Father, is there anything I can do to help?” “Thank you for offering, Daughter, but I am almost finished. Please take the seat next to Sally and I will be finished soon.” “Alright Father, perhaps I can help you with dinner then.” “That would be fine, I would enjoy the company.” I went back to the table and sat next to Sally. A few minutes later Father handed out everyone’s plates and sat down by me at the head of the table. I chuckled at all the different dishes Father had made. L.J. had a big bowl of candy, E.J. had kidneys, eggs and bacon, Masky and Hoodie had cheesecake pancakes, Jeff had bacon, sausage, eggs and toast, Father had a raw steak and some sausage, and the rest of us had blueberry pancakes. It was delicious; Father even had my favorite boysenberry preserves on the table for me. It was interesting to see that Father really did have a mouth. For some reason I wasn’t afraid of his sharp pointed teeth or his long black and white tongue. After breakfast I followed Sally up to her room and we played dress up and had a tea party.

> Next Chapter

[deepseavibez]

Fall Pronto_1 || JHS

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-> Picture Source - Pinterest

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Fall Pronto [Hoseok x Reader]

Part 1 || Part 2

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Genre - Smut; 21+; Best Friends Brother

Summary - Hoseok was quiet. He focused on work and stayed out of the way. He was calm and collected. He was patient. He didn't even dispute your food choices. What a man. It made sense that he stayed over while he visited the city for business;you had the space and it would only be a few days. There was nothing complicated about a short visit, of course not, after all, he was only your best friend's brother. Right?

🎶 - Waves - KANG DANIEL (feat. Simon Dominic & Jamie

Warning - 21+!Only; Smut; Vulgarity;

Word Count - 2.1k

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It was late, a bit after two in the morning according to your bedside clock as you squinted to look at it properly. Your throat dry and skin itchy from the humid weather, you threw the covers off and stepped onto the wooden floors.

As you walked down the hall, a glance at the room next to you, the door wide open and bed untouched confirmed your roommate hadn't returned for the night.

Shaking your head absently, you decided to call her when you got back in your room. She worked too hard, too late, and she was too in love with her job.

But then, Seri was one of the lucky ones that way. Her family was well off, her job was perfect for her and she was beautiful.

You would be salty about it, but Seri was wonderful. A kind heart, caring and she was one of your best friends.

You sighed, a smile crossing your face at the thought of one of the most important people in your life.

Barefoot, in purple cotton shorts and a shirt, you walked to the kitchen. Delirious and tired, you navigated yourself through the dimly lit house, purely by muscle memory.

Yawning, you reflexively covered your mouth with your hand as you passed through the lounge and into the kitchen, illuminated by the moonlight shining through the window above the sink.

Opening the fridge, you scrunched your nose as you found nothing to your liking, so you grabbed a cup from the overhead drawer, and filled it in the ice water dispenser.

Humming at the coolness of it against your hand, and placing it against your lips, you were just about to drink as you turned around, only to let out a ear piercing shriek.

Cup forgotten, you clutched at your heart as you identified the familiar face and struggled to compose yourself.

The cup of water and its contents on the floor in pieces, you stared up at the face of the man that plagued your mind and caused you sleepless nights.

Jung Hoseok was absolutely handsome. A diamond shaped face, brown eyes and a jawline created to stand out he haunted your every sane thought. And considering the circumstances his presence did nothing to calm your fast beating heart.

Now dressed in nothing but a pair of shorts, his clear smooth skin, lean tummy and muscles drew your attention. You gulped audibly, trying to be as discreet as possible about his affect on you.

Would it be too much to hope my reaction could be passed as being chicken shit for the dark.

You thought it would be okay to have Hobi over, after all his sister was your roommate and he was only crashing for a week or two. But the days proved to already be too much.

You were antsy and you weren't used to being so flustered. Being single and having no sex for almost a year now, didn't help. You didn't want to feel so drawn to him, but it happened gradually and yet, all at once. Like a fine wine aging to potency.

His presence, was a stark thing. Within the hour of meeting him, your body hummed in awareness of the man, butterflies fluttered through you when you made eye contact with him and if it was even possible, the heat always kicked up a notch when he was around.

Hoseok saved his smile. For his sister. For a good plate of food. For his best friend, Yoongi. Other than that he made head nods a common acknowledgement for you.

Initially you just had an uncomfortable vibe with Hoseok around, which was fair. He was a stranger in your home and in your personal space, of course you felt uncomfortable. But you knew yourself, it was not just about leaning away when he leaned forward, or not making any skin contact with him through effort, you noticed that once it did happen, you wanted it way too much.

You can remember all too well, as you walked out of your room less than a day ago, and straight into something solid and warm. His hands caught at your arms as he looked you over and steadied you. The slight touch sent tingles across you, wanting to lean into his scent, his cologne, the expanse of him already too large in front of your 5'2 frame. You jumped back as if burned and mumbled an apology as you scurried away.

He said nothing to you. Didn't push you or anyone else, you had probably never met someone so set in their standard way of life and yet meeting middle ground with others.

As far as you knew the work habits ran in the family, because he always had his laptop open, one hand on it while he spoke on his Bluetooth and texted with the other. Direct and blunt, his voice carried over commands as if disobedience was never invited to the party.

His rolled up shirt sleeves and the Audemars Piguet watch on his hand, as you walked in on the scene almost had you closing your eyes asking for help from the universe. Because those forearms, curled around you, near you, those hands on you, those fingers in you... the cold shower you had did nothing for you that evening.

Now as he stared at the broken pieces on the floor and your clearly shaken form, you cursed yourself for actually forgetting he was under the same roof as you.

Blinking rapidly, you hissed at him. 'You freaking scared me!'

This man, he didn't deserve your tone, or the disrespect, but he triggered ferity in you on a level so intense you stayed as far away from your apartment as possible while he was around. It was all you could do to protect yourself.

'I happen to live here too,' he looked at you with irritation.

At least that reaction helped; irritation deserved irritation.

Deciding you shouldn't make a snide remark about how long he would be staying, you turned your attention away from him to the floor. Moving your hair aside, you looked down at your bare feet, hunting a way out of the sea of glass that could much likely hurt like a bitch if you stepped on it.

A short look, confirmed that Hoseok wasn't fine either, his feet were bare too.

So engrossed, with your dilemma you didn't notice, Hoseok huff in impatience and reach for you.

You yelped as a pair of strong arms, grabbed you under your thighs, hands flailing as you caught at his shoulders. Even in your shocked state you reveled at the feel of his muscles under your palm, and it took a portion of self control you didn't think you had not to grip into them with your nails and run your hands across the smooth expanse of his skin.

Your legs instinctively wrapped themselves around his waist, the action putting your center's together, the ravaging demand to rock your hips into his was leashed in before you could carry it through.

'What the hell are you doing!' The panic in you could be heard through your cold voice.

'Are you fucking kidding me? You're barefoot! Do you want to get cut?' You brushed aside his concern. You had to. The odds already too stacked against you.

'You're also barefoot,' pointing it out by looking down.

He ignored you. You stared at him waiting for some sort of explanation. He averted your eyes and didn't give one, so you took it upon yourself to try and get out of his grip.

'Can you stop? I'm trying to help you!' he said gruffly as you wiggled.

You huffed, and pushed harder at him, but he had a strong grip. 'I can take care of myself.'

You needed space. You needed to be away from him.

Something wild in you reared it's head but you pushed it aside. Baring it's teeth, you knew all too well you wanted this man and you hated it.

He moved his hands from your waist, and tightened it on your ass, adding more pressure to your center. You only now noticed he was hard. Very hard.

You held back a moan at the realization, but couldn't stop the breath leaving your body as you made eye contact with him.

Stilling yourself, hunting for a thread of calm, you cleared your throat and swallowed through the harsh lump formed in it.

Looking away you frantically searched for the next logical step in the situation. You felt your demeanor tearing itself apart, ice cracking into pieces.

Close to tears at wanting something you shouldn't and the frustration of the situation adding onto it, you whispered softly, 'Please put me down... away from the glass.' You sounded breathless, and you hated it, but assertive all the same.

Surprisingly, he listened. He managed to evade the glass as he walked you over to the island across the kitchen and placed you on it. Letting go off him you looked down, if he'd stepped wrong his expression didn't indicate it. So you swallowed your concern.

'Thank you.' You dragged it through clenched teeth. You evaded eye contact as you said it. Your blood was raging. Your skin too sensitive, too soft.

His hands finally leaving you made you feel empty, but at least you were safer, more from yourself than him.

You waited.

He just needed to move away from you and get out from the space between your legs, then you could get your shoes and clean up this mess.

He didn't.

You looked up at him again, an annoyed, questioning expression on your face.

'I want to know what's your problem with me.' Slightly taken aback at the direct question, you managed to keep yourself composed. Hobi never smiled around you, you didn't even think you were allowed to think of him as Hobi either. He reserved that right for his friends. But that was fine, you never intended to be his friend. He needed to leave as soon as possible. Sunday couldn't come fast enough.

'Move,' you bit out, wanting to crawl out of your skin with the need to sink your teeth on the firm muscle of the man in front of you. 'I need to clean up.'

He leaned in closer, hands on either side of you, caging you in. 'You're pissy with me. You have been since I got here.' His breath fanned your face, you tried evening yours. 'And you don't get out of this position until I know why.' His tone was quiet, but molded in steel, that of a man who had clearly reached his limit.

And so had you.

'Fawning over you is not a requirement Hoseok,' you managed with a smile and a tone so sweet, it drew blood.

'Someone should bite you... hard.' he responded gruffly. 'Then maybe you'd loosen up a little bit.'

You clenched at the near snarl, his tone doing all sorts of things to your body. Especially making the pooling between your thighs more noticeable.

Your nails dug into your skin, as you felt his breathe on your lips. 'It's not like you've been very forthcoming since you've got here.' Nerves far too close to the surface, you needed out or you really wouldn't be able to keep that part of you under wraps.

'Oh hell no!' His eyes slammed into yours. It was the first time you'd heard him come remotely close to raising his voice. 'Don't you dare pin this on me.'

'You took one look at me and decided you couldn't stand me, and I want to know why.'

You breathed in, an attempt to calm your beating heart.

'Look,' you started, 'I'm an asshole generally.'

'That's bullshit and you know it! I've seen you with others. Especially my sister.' His anger was a palpable thing. A blade with a serrated edge would have been less dangerous.

Patience wearing thin, you snapped, 'Get out of my face Hoseok!' You pushed at his chest.

'Are you sure I should?' He leaned in further, restraint evident he continued, 'You probably swipe at me because you can't have me close enough!'

You inhaled sharply.

His eyes widened in shock, as he pulled back. His mouth fell open at your reaction, a resounding, 'Fuck,' leaving his lips.

Part 1 || Part 2

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[no-whump-on-main]

Apartment 307-8 (Grabbed by the hair)

Hi guys!! I'm so sorry it took me so long to update. School and work have been crazy but luckily I'm out of school next week so I'll have much more time and be posting more frequently! Apologies for the short chapter, I have no idea why but it just kicked my butt lol. I tried doing some cool multimedia stuff, I hope you enjoy! This is @sableflynn's BTHB request, grabbed by the hair.

TWs: Creepy, possessive whumper, mention of branding, also this chapter made me sad bc I love my mom and Elora's mom is sad so warning for that lmao

Elora was still lying there crying hours later. The tears had slowed from her initial keening sobs, but they still fell steadily down her face, accumulating in a small puddle on the tile by her head. She could see a bit of her reflection in the salty water; just her eyes, mostly. She saw green eyes that had once been so full of hope and life that were fading, the slow abandonment of hope almost making them gray out. She wanted to lie there forever, staring into her own eyes, until oblivion took her. If she cleared her head enough, she could pretend she was elsewhere, somewhere warm and loving; the blanket draped over her body did help with the fantasy, though she always knew somewhere in the back of her head that it was just that: a fantasy. She was still here. With him.

Clyde tried to give her time to recover, but his patience wore eventually. He began to get antsy after a few hours of watching her lie there, doing nothing but cry. Admittedly, he did enjoy it at first-seeing her so weak, so docile, because of him-but it eventually grew tiresome. Watching each tear drip down into the puddle became like watching paint dry.

He stood up abruptly. Elora was startled by the motion, flinching before stilling and watching him very carefully. What was he going to do?

“Get up,” he said simply.

Elora froze. She still felt sick, dizzy with pain and the lingering scent of her burning flesh in the bathroom. But why would he care about that? Why should she disobey him, when she knew what would happen?

Yet pride and pain got the better of her again.

“I can’t,” she whimpered. She felt weak. “I hurt. You hurt me.”

The piercing sound of a loud, sudden laugh began to echo through the bathroom. It reminded Elora of the laugh of a hyena. She winced.

“Darling, did you not think that was the point?”

Her expression hardened and her heart thumped in her chest. That was the point. She wanted to say something, but her mouth suddenly got dry.

The man simply grinned. “Get up,” he repeated, but she didn’t. She just laid there, dumbfounded.

He groaned angrily, rolling his eyes. “Fine,” he grumbled. “Be that way.”

He gathered up her hair in his hand, locked his fingers in a tight fist, and pulled up. Elora yelped and scrambled to get to her feet to relieve the pain, but he didn’t give her the chance; he carelessly dragged her off, out of the bathroom, through the hallway, and into the living room. She screamed and thrashed wildly, her hands desperately trying to push him away as her scalp burned like fire. Again and again, her feet scraped the ground to no avail, kicking and kicking but never able to gain enough traction to stand as she was mercilessly dragged. The man finally dropped her on the floor at the foot of a worn leather couch, releasing his death grip on her hair. Her hands immediately flew up to her head, applying gentle pressure to her scalp to try to ease the burning pain as she looked around the new room.

The living room was barren, like the man had half moved into it then given up. There was a dusty box in the corner, the couch, a worn coffee table, a small stand, and an old TV. Other than that, it was empty, in an eerie way. The aged carpet spanned the floor like an ocean.

The pressure didn’t do much and Elora dropped her hands, still wincing as the man plopped himself on the couch behind her, the leather making a loud crackling noise as he sat. She whipped her head around as her shoulders raised up to her ears instinctively. The man made a sour face, his features twisting into an ugly frown.

“Relax,” he commanded, forcefully pushing her shoulders down. At first, she tried to wiggle away, but that idea was abandoned when he tightened his grip, clearly as a warning. He grabbed the TV remote from the arm of the couch and turned it on. It started on some history channel documentary about cars, but Clyde quickly flipped through channels until he found the local news station.

A grin spread across his face as he read the blue banner spanning across the bottom of the screen. They were just in time.

UP NEXT: CAPE COD GIRL GOES MISSING; DESPERATE MOTHER PLEADS FOR HER RETURN

His hands wandered to Elora’s scalp and began to gently card through her hair. She inhaled sharply, and it took everything she had in her not to immediately shove him off. Somehow the gentleness felt worse than the pain; the false sense of care disgusted her. He was a maniac. He hurt her, he branded her, and now he was sitting on the couch petting her hair, pretending like none of it happened. It didn’t escape her attention how he set her on the floor instead of the couch, below him, like a dog.

The banner was bad enough, but she felt sick to her stomach when the station cut to a reporter sitting at a desk with a picture of her on half of the screen. It was the picture her mom took of her at the orchard last fall. It was candid; she remembered it. She was intently focused on a butterfly off on a tree, ignoring her mom as she snapped the photo. It was one of her favorite pictures of herself. And now, it was plastered all over the news.

The reporter on the TV began to speak. “Tonight, a desperate mother pleads for her missing daughter’s safe return. Elora Larkin, nineteen, of Barnstable county, Massachusetts has been missing since Friday night. She was last seen walking home from her job at Agathangelou’s bakery, wearing khakis, a black t-shirt, and black sneakers. The police have opened a tip line and are offering an unspecified reward for any information that leads to Miss Larkin.”

Elora felt a lurching sensation in her stomach, so visceral she wanted to throw up. That was her. On the news. Gone. Missing.

Behind her, the man chuckled.

“Look at that, baby. You’re all over New England.”

“I’m not your baby,” she snapped, turning around. But her head was spinning. All over New England? It wasn’t the Cape Cod news station on the TV. It wasn’t even a state news channel. It was entirely unfamiliar, the reporter’s face one she’d never seen.. So he’d taken her across state lines, making her chances of being found lower yet.

The man shushed her and put a finger up to her lips. “Watch.” She almost bit him, but decided it wasn’t worth the inevitable punishment that would follow. Besides, they might say something useful, something that could help her. She needed to pay attention.

The screen changed, and a missing persons poster popped up. Hers.

It was up for a minute before it faded away as the reporter came back on the screen.

“Such a sad story. Everyone in the studio is hoping and praying for her safe return. Unfortunately, vigilance is so important in this day and age. Up next, we have a recording of a press conference with the girl’s mother.

The girl’s mother. Her mother. Elora felt her heartbeat thumping in her chest.

And there she was. Jodie was standing at a podium in a building that had to be a police station. Demetrios was standing by her side, offering support by merely being present. While Elora hadn’t seen him cry even once in all the years she’d known him, he now looked like he was on the verge of tears.

Her mom started to speak. She looked so sad. Withered, like the life had been sucked out of her, from fear and overthinking and sleepless nights.

“My daughter-My daughter Elora has been missing since Friday night. She’s got-she’s got blonde hair, and green eyes, and she’s real tall. I’m sure pictures have gone around by now. She was walking home from work and-and then she disappeared. We were supposed to have dinner Sunday and she never came. It was supposed to be her weekend off. I- If someone has her, please, I’m begging you, let her go. Bring her home safe. She’s a good kid, she works hard, she rescues cats in her spare time...she doesn’t deserve this. And Elora, if you’re seeing this, I love you. I love you so much, honey. If you chose to leave, please just tell us you’re okay. It’s okay. You can go see the world, just tell us you’re okay. And if something-something bad happened, we’re gonna find you. I promise, baby, I love you and we’re gonna bring you home. Promise.”

At that point, she set the microphone down and began to cry, tears streaming down her face as she hurried off to an exit, the cameras following her for a few moments. Elora’s heart twisted in knots. Seeing her mom’s face brought her so much joy, yet knowing how worried she had to be made her feel sick with guilt.

But she promised. She promised she’d find her.

“That your mom?”

Elora stilled. He already knew the answer.

"She’s kinda pathetic. Could barely keep it together long enough to tell them about you.”

She went cold. “Stop,” she seethed. Her voice was eerily calm, given her anger.

"Or what?” he replied, twisting her hair up in his hand and giving it another tug.

Elora was silent. There was no or what. She knew that.

The reporter came back on the screen.

“Well, folks, that’s all we have on the case for tonight. Remember to be safe and vigilant. This has been Hannah Brown with News12.”

The man released her hair, picked up the remote, and turned off the T.V.

“Notice how they only talked about you, not me?”

Elora turned her head around. She was crying.

“What?”

He scoffed. “I said, notice how they only ran their mouths about you the whole time. Never said a word about me. You know what that means? They don’t know jack shit about me. They don’t know who you’re with or where you are. I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but we’re in Connecticut. We crossed state lines twice. They’re never going to find you, you know that?

She tried to hide it, but he could see her expression falling with every word he said, hope beginning to seep out of her. She shook her head vigorously, her bottom lip trembling.

“N-no! No, they will, you’re just crazy! You’re just fucking crazy!”

A scowl formed on his lips. “No, they won’t.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but in a split second, his hand was gripping tightly around her throat, cutting off her air. Her eyes went wide.

“No one is coming to save you.”

Elora swallowed, fear bright in her eyes. She tried to rip herself away, but the man raked his fingers across the fresh brand on her collarbone, sending her to the ground, keeling in pain.

“We could’ve had a nice evening if you behaved. Listened,” he grumbled, standing and once again grabbing her hair tightly before dragging her off towards the bathroom.

Tags: @exploringspaceinpyjamas @all-whumped-out @badthingshappenbingo

[doodledraw]

Return (Of What Was Cherished)

Cody crash lands on Tatooine. He doesn't really know why, but there's nothing left for him in the Empire. Little did he know there's a lot waiting for him this far out in the Outer Rim.

(thanks @katanrocksketches​ for the title idea!! and for being my sounding board ily)

Today for @commandercodyweek​ I decided to write a fic I’ve been wanting to try my hand at for a while!! Post-Order 66 reunions are just...the BEST so here’s my shot at it!

Read on AO3 here! Or under the cut!

He didn't know who he was. He didn't know what he was doing. All he knew was that it was kriffing hot and it had been over 24 hours since he had crossed paths with another being. Granted, 12 of those hours had been in space and then another 5 had been spent unconscious in the desert, slowly baking under the hot suns. Most of his armor had quickly been removed and fastened to a small sled using a piece of debris from his now absolutely trashed ship. Dragging that along, he began to wander the desert (it was just his luck he managed to land as far away from civilization as possible).

After two hours, he felt like he was going in circles.

After three, he spotted a ridge in the distance and started to make his way towards it.

After four, the ridge was still firmly in the distance and he was starting to think it was a mirage and that he was going to die out in the middle of nowhere.

He never realized that he was thinking clearer and more him than he had been for the last five years, like taking a breath after being underwater.

He finally reached the ridge on hour six and allowed himself a small rest. Clones were built for endurance but not for invulnerability. Besides, he needed to tend his wounds and the shelter he had found was the most he was going to get.

It was only once he'd stopped that his brain, no longer preoccupied with moving his legs through the rapidly shifting sands, caught up to his situation. That was when the panic set in. He was all alone, on a planet that very well could be the death of him, and yet at the same time he was feeling more alive than he had in a good long time.

After he gave himself a moment to panic, the rational part of his brain kicked in and he looked through the pockets on his toolbelt to see what he had with him.

Unfortunately, his black armor did nothing to help him from the heat of the suns, and he curses his competency for that. Why couldn't he have been forgettable?!

None of you are forgettable to me, my dear. You're all so very important, the memory surfaced unbidden. Obi-Wan would reassure him like that whenever he or his vode felt inadequate.

Cody's breath caught. He tried the name out in his head again. Obi-Wan. Then out loud: "Obi-Wan," he whispered to the wind.

He can say his General's name!

For the first time in years, he can say the name of the man who gave him everything and asked for nothing in return. It made him want to cry. But water is precious on Tatooine. Even he knows that. So he stashed that grief with all the other grief he'd piled away into a corner of his mind and then he left it be.

He's got a bacta patch, some tape, two painkillers, a spare comm that's broken straight in half, a ration bar, and nothing else. He split the ration bar in half and ate one of the halves along with one painkiller. Then he set to work making bandages out of part of the sleeve of his blacks and secured it around the cut on his head with some tape. Luckily he could still think rather clearly, so he didn’t think he was in danger of anything worse than a concussion, and the blood had stopped hours ago.

~~

He didn't realize he had fallen asleep until he woke up the next day. Sighing, he decided to conserve his painkillers and food. He wanted to make it out of this canyon...gorge...thing...whatever it was, if he even could and make it to some sort of civilization. So with a groan of pain, he set off again.

He focused on the fact that he was no longer burning under the suns constantly due to the slight shelter the ridge provided, and told himself that he could make it. He was Marshal Commander Cody turned Purge Trooper, the sun was not going to be the thing that killed him. Kriff it all, he was going to live. For his vode. For his General. He would live.

~~

Civilization was a sight for sore eyes. After almost having fallen to his death multiple times, and having definitely aggravated the wound on his abdomen, he had made it out. He wanted to fall asleep. No wait, he wanted to eat something other than the expired ration bar and then fall asleep. And food required civilization.

The citizens of the town had apparently had a good amount of half-dead beings stagger their way into town because he was barely even given a second glance. The town, which he later learned was Mos Espa, was located in the north across from the Dune Sea, where he'd crashed. The barkeep was helpful enough to direct him to somewhere he could trade in some of his armor and scrap for some credits and get new clothes for it. He traded everything except his vambraces, greaves, blaster and toolbelt, and got a hooded jacket and a pair of patched-up spacer's pants in return. Freshly outfitted and feeling lighter than he ever had, but also more exposed than ever, he wandered back outside and through the town.

He had no working commlink, not that he would want to call the Empire anyway, better they just assume he died, and no credits and nowhere to go. Credits, he obviously needed. Shelter could come later.

~~

Cody spent three weeks in Espa. He picked up odd-jobs here and there, and with the credits, bought some medical supplies, treated his wounds, and then did more odd-jobs. He had no purpose but also no reason to leave. The townsfolk weren't so bad once you got to know them and Espa was quiet, out of the way. No one could find him there.

At least that's what he thought.

Brown robes weren't uncommon on Tatooine. The first time he had seen one, he nearly killed himself by looking away from the box he was supposed to be catching. But it wasn't him, how could it be? The second and third times, he had been no less surprised, but this time he knew it wouldn't be him. It couldn't be him.

Now, being the tenth time, he barely even glanced at the stranger on an eopie wandering into town. But he felt the eyes on his back anyway.

Cody knew he was recognizable. He was one in a a few billion, obviously there would be people that had seen his face before. Some of the townsfolk asked about that at the beginning, but not for long. They stopped asking soon enough. So this stranger would realize soon enough that he wasn't who he thought and move on. They all did, everyone had for as long as he could remember, except for one. Cody couldn't escape the slight feeling of relief that filled him when the stranger's eyes were gone. For some reason, that stare had felt more piercing than normal. He shivered despite the heat, then turned back to his work.

He forgot about the stranger until that night, when he made his way into the bar for a refreshment after his day of work. They were there, at the bar, almost as if they were waiting for him. But that was crazy, and Cody resolutely placed himself as far away from them as possible. They made no move towards him, didn't even notice him, as far as he could tell, and they mutually ignored each other for the rest of the night.

Until Cody left to make his way back to where he was staying. Noticing his brown hooded shadow, he made his way through alleys and then stopped. "Whoever you are, whatever you want, why don't you just leave me alone. We'll both be happier that way."

The figure made a choked noise and took another half step towards Cody, who had spun to face them.

"What do you want from me?" the clone demanded.

"I don't know."

"Who are you? How did you find me?"

The figure lifted their hands to remove the hood, and Cody immediately tensed towards his blaster. Moonlight illuminated silver threaded copper hair and Cody's eyes widened.

"My dear, I think you know the answer to that by now. It's not an expression you've particularly liked me to say," Obi-Wan Kenobi said, tears streaming down his drawn face.

Cody stumbled back against the rough stone wall. "No. No, it's not you. It can't be. I...I killed you! I watched you fall! That should have killed you!"

"You of all people should know I am rather good at surviving things normal mortals should not be able to," he chuckled wetly and his gaze moved off into the middle distance. "It was a specific point of anxiety for you during the war. Oh Kote. Ner'Kote...what have they done to you?"

"More like what have they done with me," Cody remarked bitterly. He scrubbed a hand over his face. "Is this real? I need you to tell me right now if this is real, General."

"Not your General."

Cody gave him a withering glare. "Yes you are."

The Not Apparition took a step forward. "May I?"

Cody nodded slowly, and then General Kenobi was gently, carefully, cradling his hand in both of his like it was the most precious thing he had ever held. "I'm here, Cody."

Cody broke right there. In the middle of nowhere on Tatooine, Cody fell to the ground and sobbed. He grieved in his General's arms, the man he was not allowed to even think of until earlier that month. The man he thought he had killed. The man he loved.

"Ni'ceta! Ni'ceta, Obi-Wan! I should have fought it harder, I should have escaped earlier, I should have looked for you, I should have--"

Obi-Wan shushed him. "You should have nothing Cody. You did everything you could. It was not you. I forgive you. I've forgiven you. I'd forgiven you as I was falling. It was not you, my dear."

They sat there, two broken pieces slowly healing each other in the middle of an alley in the middle of nowhere in Mos Espa until Obi-Wan pulled away.

"Let's go home cyar'ika," he murmured.

Home. The first true home he would ever have. "That sounds perfect."

[ineffablebooklover]

Woo! this took longer than expected. I’m super sorry, school has been piling up so maybe promps will come every week or two. Thanks for your patience and support :)

anwyas, lets get into this!!! I‘ve been excited for this prompt, a Sambucky Sleeping Beauty AU. There’s just so many places to go with this. So without further ado:

Bucky Rose

a Sambucky Sleeping Beauty AU

“In a far away land long ago lived a King and his fair Queen. Many years had they longed for a child and finally, their wish was granted.”

People came from near and far to celebrate the birth of the child Alaric, their heir to the throne. Everyone except a certain brunette who lived deep in the forest and was discarded by all but one.

So the party was held, people came bearing gifts, and so did three fairies, who gifted beauty, curiosity(that hopefully led to smarts), and-

BANG! With a neon flash and a swift ‘whoosh’, the air staled and breaths were held. Maleficent, the horned fairy in the woods, stood before the kingdom. She chuckled, maleficently.

“Ah yes, so sad my partner couldn’t make it today. Alas, I see neither of us even got an invitation?” She feigned a pout at the king.

“You and your… your… you’re not welcome here!” The king stuttered out.

Maleficent scowled for real now, turning her attention to the baby. “Ah, how cute,” she said in a tone that in no way alluded to ‘cute’. “A sweet little boy who will one day become king. Say, do you expect any heirs?”

The king growled back at Maleficent.

“Anyways, gift time!” Maleficent cackled.

Before anyone could say a word, she looked at the baby and pointed a long, slender finger at the child.

“You may flirt but you shall never find a girl who you love as she loves you! Hah! And when you turn 16, you shall prick your finger on a spinning wheel and fall asleep until a true love's kiss, blah blah blah. Okay well farewell everyone! Good luck!” She smirked, winked, and then she was gone.

Murmurs scattered across the room. How was a true love supposed to awaken the prince if the prince would never love a girl? The king was horrified. No wife meant no heirs that weren’t out of wed-lock. He would have no bastard as an heir.

The queen took his arm. “Dear... what are we to do?”

The king nodded solemnly. “It is horrible, I know.”

“If he sleeps for so long he will practically be dead!” The queen cried.

“Oh, right. That,” the king replied. His mind was still focused on the whole ‘no-wife’ part.

“Perhaps Maleficent is trying to kill him... oh this palace isn’t safe anymore Stephan!” The queen realized. And with that, the baby Alaric was hurried out of the palace in the middle of the night to be taken care of by 3 peasant women in the woods. Even his name was changed to Bucky Rose, so Maleficent wouldn’t find the boy.

~•~

For all his life before the slumber, Bucky Rose had wondered. He was inventive as an infant, a curious child, and turned out to be quite the troublesome teenager.

His days has been long, yet limited to the small square of woods he lived in with his three godmothers. So whenever a fair maiden were to waltz into his neck of the woods, he was indeed very inquisitive.

But, like the curse had stated, he loved no girl like she loved him. And he never did. He had talked to his god-moms about it, and all they did was shake their heads, for they had no answer to give him, only the fact of the spell.

Bucky soon taught himself the word ‘loophole’. It came with a boy his age, a childhood friend, who had grown big and strong, a proper farmhand, maybe even a soldier. Bucky had loved no girl, but Bucky had loved Steve in a much grander scale than mere friends would.

When he had told his god-moms, as he told them everything, they had realized that this was what the curse meant. But they were happy that Bucky had found love in his heart. They knew he was not incapable of love, for he loved them so, but they were glad to know his heart reached out to another, and perhaps he wouldn’t be so alone.

But when Bucky’s life turned up-side down, and when he pricked his finger on the spinning wheel at 16, Steve had left for a girl in town, one by the name of Peggy.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. How exactly had the prince pierced his flesh to a spinning wheel? Well, let’s start one day before his 16th Birthday...

“I shall make a cake!”

“And I’m making a royal coat!”

“And I’m using magic because I know neither of you are useful without it!” Merriweather shouted at them.

“No! Magic!” The two shouted from below.

Bucky, leaving the hassle of the house as if he has heard nothing, called out his departure to his godmothers.

“Be back by lunch dear!”

“I will!” Bucky shouted back, then ran out of the house with the hope of picking some berries in the woods, but also the hope of seeing him again. He sighed as he walked through the pathway, bouncing around through the forest, humming a happy tune. He would be 16 tomorrow, and his godmothers seemed to be making a great deal about it.

Bucky wandered around the forest, thoughts of Steve’s pure heart and charming smile warming Bucky's heart more than a thousand hugs would.

A splash cut through Bucky’s thoughts like a falcon diving into water. Bucky swiveled around, speed-walking towards the pond. Steve never fell in the pond. So who…

A young boy had fallen into the pond, his horse on the side of the water’s edge.

“Who’re you?” Bucky asked in an accusatory tone.

The boy looked up, dark eyes wide. He was young, dressed propper, had deep brown skin, and was not in a good mood. The boy glared at his horse. “Samson! What was that for?”

The ‘Samson’ in question just nickered. Bucky looked the two up and down.

“What are you two finely dressed gentlemen -gentlehorse in your case- doing out here?” Bucky asked.

“Well what does it look like we’re doing?” The boy snapped back. “We‘re stuck with having to go to the prince’s Royal sweet 16!”

Bucky was shocked by this. “The prince is turning 16? But we don’t even know who the prince is!”

The boy rolled his eyes. “Yeah well that’s why it’s stupid. I don’t even wanna be here. Some guy I don’t know is getting a birthday party and didn’t even have cake.”

‘This boy is quite… interesting,’ Bucky thought, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow at the kid. “Look, it’s gotta be fun, I mean it’s a Royal party! You’re lucky you even get to go. What are you, a prince?”

The boy nodded. “That’s Prince Sam to you!”

Bucky scoffed. “Yeah there’s no way I’m calling you that. Come on kid, let’s just get you to the palace and then go get ready to celebrate a birthday party.” He offered a hand, and Sam took it, standing with a huff. Soon he was on his way, Bucky wondering how strange the boy was. ‘He’s just a rich kid, whatever.’

Bucky sometimes wished he could be royalty. Especially with his birthday lying on the same day as the prince, it was getting annoying having to squish down his hopes. He was adopted, and the king and queen knew who their son was. Anyways, he had Steve. That was enough. Even if Steve didn’t show up today.

~•~

After an early celebration of cake, presents, and lots of laughs, Bucky’s godmothers suggested they go for a walk. The evening sun was appearing, the lovely color grazing over the castle in the background. It really was a lovely sight.

“So… where exactly are we going?” Bucky asked.

His godmothers exchanged a glance. “We’re heading to the palace. To celebrate the prince’s birthday tomorrow,” was all Merriweather said. Flora and Fauna shot her a glare.

“Oh,” was all Bucky said. He was hoping to spend his birthday with his godmothers, or at least go somewhere fun for his birthday, but the stupid prince had to have his birthday on the same day as Bucky, so Bucky tried to suck it up as he frowned at the grass between his toes.

“Bucky...” Flora looked at Fauna as they tried to raise Bucky’s mood, but stopped short. Any more, and he would know.

Any more, and his life would change.

Any more, and he’d know before he was supposed to.

Any more, and-

“What’s with all this tension?” Merriweather groaned. “Bucky, you’re the prince!”

---end of Part 1

that was part one! I hope you peeps enjoyed! Stay tuned for more :)

[currently-exsisting]

Coins & Coffee Shop (Akaashi Keiji)

Pairing: Akaashi Keiji x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Pure Fluff, Second Hand Embarrassment

Word Count: ~1.5K

A/N: You can't tell me Akaashi's demeanor doesn't scream dark academia vibes and I'm totally here for it. Also, this is my first post here so I hope you guys like it and I'm always open for constructive criticism! (ꈍᴗꈍ)

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｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ

Everyone has little aspects about them that make them unique. No one has the same features as anyone else but people do share common traits among each other. (Y/N) was known to be many things. She was intellectual, indecisive, inquisitive, sometimes lazier than she would like to admit. But above all these things, (Y/N) was an honorary member of the klutz society. It’s not that she chose to constantly trip on her own feet or overlook the miscellaneous sock that somehow found its way out of the laundry basket, it was just that the universe had placed some unspoken curse on her that bound her to these actions in her everyday life. Some days seemed to consist of fewer misdemeanors than others. Today was seemingly one of those.

(Y/N) had just finished her second interview of the week and so she went to treat herself at a small coffee shop located in the quieter part of town. Although it is labeled as a coffee shop, the young woman was never a fan of the bitter drinks most adults fawn over. Her typical order consisted of a medium-sized hot, Darjeeling tea. She preferred to use honey as a sweetener because it added a unique flavor otherwise unattainable.

She entered the small coffee shop and made her way to the barista to place her order. She didn’t give her surroundings much thought, her mind was wandering, thinking about the latest article she wrote for the local newspaper.

“Hello miss, how may I help you today?” She placed her order with a lopsided smile, her mind still not completely present.

“That will be $3.25 please.” (Y/N)’s fingers fumbled around as she was reaching for the correct amount of change, causing a few dimes and pennies to fall on the haphazardly cleaned floor.

She muttered a small sorry as she scrambled around to gather the few coins, mentally cursing the mere existence of them. Just as her finger reached to pick up the last coin, a stranger’s long, skinny fingers brushed up against hers.

“Oh thank you!” (Y/N) pulled her hand away after the stranger gave her the discarded coin. She hadn’t looked at his eyes yet, far too embarrassed to even look at his face.

That was until her stranger let out his first few words. “It was no problem.” Quickly (Y/N) raised her head, causing a sharp pain to shoot up her neck. Her slight grimace faded into a nervous smile, completed with wide eyes. The boy- no, the man in front of her was nothing short of angelic. His face could easily be mistaken for that of a Greek god. His slightly shaggy, raven hair fell on his forehead, framing his face. His cerulean eyes looked like they were unintentionally piercing into (Y/N)’s thoughts. And, as if he was able to use those eyes to read her thoughts, a small smile gracing his lips. (Y/N) were in the presence of an angel, there was no doubt about it. However, her heavenly daydream quickly crash-landed back on earth when the barista let out a forced cough.

(Y/N)’s eyes widened even more- if that was possible- as she realized her situation. She quickly tore her eyes off the stranger without another acknowledgment and turned back to the counter. She grabbed her tea, nodding her head in both gratitude and apology. (Y/N)’s mind, still hazy from the multiple levels of embarrassment she caused herself, didn’t conceive the idea that the man standing behind her was also in line and didn’t, as she previously thought, move away after helping her.

She whipped her whole body around yet again, itching with the idea of escaping the immense tension she created and misplaced her feet. Her legs tangled together like a braid, causing her to lose what little balance and dignity she had left.

It’s not that she meant to trip and spill her tea all over him; it was just the way of her people. People that she never disliked more than in that singular moment. (Y/N) looked up at the stranger, who was now holding her shoulders back to keep from falling over, for the second time in the span of two minutes. Except, this time he was covered in a light yellow-brown drink, his face contorted due to the hot tea burning his skin.

“Oh my goodness! I’m so so sorry!” (Y/N) scrambled to grab some napkins that were placed on the counter. She pushed him down into a nearby chair as she dabbed the napkin over her shirt. Her hands came across his abdominal area and she felt the hardness of his abs. Her indecipherable tangent of apologies paused and her cheeks flushed to an even brighter red.

It seemed as if the tea had cooled off because the man let out a small chuckle. His hand reached down to grab her wrist but he didn’t pull it away. (Y/N)’s eyes were still stuck gazing at the light brown shirt, speckled with unorganized dots of darker brown. When he grabbed her hand she slowly lifted her face. And without meeting his eyes, she let out another meek apology.

“It’s alright, you won’t be able to remove the stains or the dampness with a napkin. I was on my way home anyway so don’t feel bad about it.” His face had returned to the relaxed, nonchalant expression he had on previously. His cheeks were tinted a faint light pink color but he attempted to force the color to seep back into its typical hue.

“But I have to make it up to you somehow.” Her eyes wandered around the small cafe, thinking of something she could do for the gorgeous man. “Oh! Let me pay for whatever you were about to buy! It’s the least I can do and I am not taking no for an answer.” (Y/N)’s expression lit up as she stood back up from her crouching position. Her cheeks that had just started to lose their pinkish tint flamed up again when she realized the man hadn’t let go of her hand.

He slowly, almost reluctantly, let go of her wrist as he let out a small nod and stood up alongside her. “What’s your order?”

“A medium Earl Grey tea” The man, as (Y/N) had picked up, didn’t say or do more than was necessary. It wasn’t that he was careless but rather extremely reserved. Noticing this, (Y/N) let out another smile.

“Do you prefer tea over coffee as well? My favorite is Darjeeling but Earl Grey is delicious as well, it has a sort of musky yet elegant taste.” The man shook his head in another slight nod but this time it seemed as if he was more intrigued by the conversation. His eyes were focused on her as she placed the order yet again, this time paying in full bills instead of reaching for change.

(Y/N) turned her head around, slowly this time, after she got both their drinks. Her eyes caught on his piercing blue ones yet again and she felt her heart skip a beat. She acknowledged the upward tilt of his lips but decided not to comment on it. “Do you mind if I join you?” Heading towards a pair of chairs set around a mini coffee table by the window. The man simply shook his head and sat across from her. They conversed about their lives for a bit until their drinks had cooled down and they seemed to be well acquainted with each other.

“Oh, where are my manners? My name is (Y/N) (L/N), and again, I'm so sorry for inconveniencing you.” She took a sip of her tea and placed it down on the table.

“Akaashi Keiji; and like I said, don't worry about it. You do have a way of attracting clumsiness though.” (Y/N) looked away, embarrassment creeping up on her again.

Nodding her head she let out a sigh, “I can’t help it. The more I think about fixing my klutzy nature, the more it becomes prominent.” She reaches her hand to grab her cup. “I need some sort of anti-klutz device.” Rolling her eyes, (Y/N) wasn’t exactly paying attention as to where her hand was headed. Just as her wrist knocked the edge of her cup, Akaashi’s hand jolted out to hold the drink steady. (Y/N)’s brows crinkled and she rested her head in her hands in frustration. “See!”

Akaashi’s smile grew larger.“I don’t know about an anti-klutz device but I’ve had my fair share of clumsy friends so I can be of some assistance.”

(Y/N) peaked out from between her fingers, “You mean you want to willingly spend time with a hazard such as myself.” She said that as a joke of course, but Akaashi still nodded in his nonchalant manner.

“ Did you know that it is a person’s nervous system that causes them to be more or less clumsy?” he hummed and continued, now looking at the young woman in front of him that had him infatuated in her, “I can’t change your clumsiness, but I can be there to catch you if it causes you to fall.”

[davosmymaster]

To the Ends of the Universe

A/N - Hello!!! How’s everyone doing? Just wanted to say thank you to the people who left a comment/liked the post about this one shot. I really hope this fic won’t dissapoint anyone.

Special thanks to @wonders-of-the-multiverse​ who has been there from the very first second. This fic initially started as both of us just daydreaming about the Master as usual and well, here we are XD. She was also my incredible beta reader.

As some of you know, English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance for any mistake. This is also my first fic on tumblr YAY

I really hope you have a good time reading this!!!

WARNINGS - Blood, mentions of nightmares, it’s pure fluff basically with hints of angst

PAIRINGS - Dhawan!Master x Reader (The Master x Reader)

WORD COUNT - 6,062 words

TO THE ENDS OF THE UNIVERSE

 The dimly lit hallways exploded in a bright white light as you rushed to the medbay, the loud thumping of your heart stuck in your ears as you forced your legs to keep the pace for just one more second.

 As Opposed to The Doctor’s, The Master’s TARDIS had always looked quite dark and unwelcoming, almost as if it wasn’t pleased with having anyone wandering around inside her. This time, however, a white flickering light guided you through the maze-like corridors to your destination. It was a big change from the dirty tricks she used to play during the first few months of your stay.

 The floor under your shoes quaked as the ship took off, the harsh trembling sending your body forwards and your shoulder crashing against one of the metal doors. You rubbed the tender spot for a second, the worry that had overwhelmed you at the sight of blood quickly being replaced by a wave of pure annoyance and agitation.

 “You could help me a bit here” you whispered through gritted teeth towards the TARDIS, the pain in your shoulder slowly dissolving into numbness.

 A low groan seemed to come from the walls and the energy inside it. The metal disappeared as the door slid open to reveal the grey colour of the medbay.

 “O-oh” you gasped “sorry”

 Once inside the room and without a thought, your body automatically went for the second drawer in one of the cupboards.

 Traveling the stars wasn’t as safe as you would have liked, and both the Master and yourself had gotten hurt more times than either of you remembered. As years and years passed you had surprised yourself in the most appropriate situations, becoming aware of the fact that you could find almost anything in the medbay at this point; even if you couldn’t understand the advanced medical technology a time lord could have gathered all over time and space for god-knows-how-long.

 “I’m back!” you announced when the control room appeared in front of your eyes again. The figure of the Master was leaning against the console, eyes too focused on his own empty fists to be considered normal. His hair was more disheveled than usual, the fringe coated with blood as it brushed across the top of his eyes. “Master”

 He jumped in place at the sound of your voice, one of his hands instinctively going to his coat’s pocket as a reflex. The wound on the side of his head was still bleeding, although the oozing flow of blood seemed to have lessened considerably since you had last seen him. His skin was much paler than usual and the dark rings under his eyes were looking much worse than that morning. You couldn’t help but think that he looked miserable, even beyond the blood staining his face and clothes.

 “Are you alright?” you whispered. You took a step forward cautiously and didn’t look away from his eyes, trying to find all the answers to your questions in those big brown orbs.

 “Why wouldn’t I be?”

 He quickly backed off, putting as much space between the two of you as he could. You watched him wander the room, walking in one direction before changing his mind the next second. You clenched your hands around the medical supplies, the weight of all the things you were carrying reminded you why you had left the room in the first place.

 “Have a seat somewhere” you demanded, although it sounded angrier than you had intended, almost like a bark. “You’re still bleeding”

 “YOU DON’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!”

 Your heart hammered in your chest as a response. The silence fell between the two of you, the atmosphere suddenly running out of air. He looked like a madman right there in front of your incredulous eyes, bleeding and pointing at you like he pointed at his enemies after stating a threat. He had never glared at you with angry eyes before.

 The Master had been acting odd for some time now. It all started with a change in his plans. One day, for no apparent reason, he took you on a trip to one of the most beautiful planets in the universe. The blue dunes of sand under an orange bright sun permanently eclipsed by one of its forty-three satellites. It seemed to be the perfect place to have some rest, at least it was until some of the natives recognized the Master and threatened to kill both of you.

 Surely ‘the most beautiful’ didn’t imply ‘the safest’, as the few civilizations that lived there had been at war for more than a millennia. The only thing all those aliens had in common was, somehow, the desire for the Master’s dead body. When the TARDIS set off again, as far away from the planet as she could, you realized he had done the first good action in a long time: he had left behind two civilizations unified for a cause greater than themselves, to get rid of him once and for all.

 Most of the time you couldn’t choose where to go, he always traveled whenever and wherever he needed in order to gather weapons or artifacts. Other times it was merely to have some fun, and on some rare occasions you would manipulate him to use his bloodthirstiness to do some justice.

 Those trips weren’t as usual now, or maybe he just had stopped telling you the truth about his intentions. Burning planets, dangerous ships and poisonous waters became beautiful trips to sightseeing constellations and the most delicious dinners served next to the colorful Medusa Cascade. No matter how beautiful or safe the place seemed to be, there was always someone or something interrupting the dates you were trying to enjoy with the Master. Not that he would call them dates, anyway.

 You used to read him like an open book. When he said “you’ll slow me down” in reality he meant “this is gonna turn nasty and I want you as far away from here as possible”. When he said he wanted to be alone, that was probably the last thing he wanted. And most of all you were almost a hundred percent sure that the strange words he whispered into your hair when he thought you were asleep meant “I love you” in Gallifreyan.

 But you still hadn’t managed to persuade the TARDIS to get you a Gallifreyan dictionary with the words’ pronunciation. It was definitely a work in progress though, or it had been until you realized that the Master and yourself had been slowly growing apart for the last few months.

 “(Y/N)” he said, his voice almost as low as a whisper “I- I shouldn’t have-”

 “You’re right, you shouldn’t have” you responded firmly. There were a lot of things you were willing to forgive him for, but yelling and mistreating you wasn’t one of them.

 He groaned in pain then, drenching his fingertips in the blood clot in his temple. Your own heart shivered in your chest at the sight, concern quickly burning your insides as a white hot fire ran through your veins.

 “Don’t touch it!”

 You quickly walked the space keeping you apart and gave him a gentle smack to his wrist. He avoided your eyes, fixing them instead on the rolls of unopened gauze, alcohol, towels, and those strange alien band-aids that accelerated the healing process up to five times faster.

 In a flurry of movement the Master moved, his hands quick to try and snatch them from you. But you had known him for a long time and knew exactly what he was like.

 “I can do it myself, I’m not a child”

 “I know you can-” you replied softly, your mind trying to convince itself that he was acting weirder than usual because you had underestimated the damage caused by the blow he had suffered to the head. “-but I’m not as sure about the rest of the sentence.”

 He raised one eyebrow in response and you watched him try not to grimace in pain again.

 “Here” he pulled away from you and walked to the front door of the TARDIS, opening it with ease. The old wood-like doors pulled back to reveal a black nothingness filled with thousands of distant flickering stars “I need some air.”

 The Master took a seat at the border. His back rested against the doors, one of his legs dangling out into space, the other bent beneath him on the floor.

 “You’ve definitely taken quite a hit.” you laughed, “There’s no air in outer space!”

 He smirked with closed eyes, calmly breathing in and out through the nose. “Don’t tell a Time Lord what can and cannot be in outer space. Now get to work, if you’re not going to let me do it myself.”

 You took a seat in front of him in the small space between his figure and the open door, one of your legs also dangling out into space. Leaning in, you pressed the gauze soaked in alcohol against the open wound to finally stop the bleeding. The Master clenched his jaw as much as he could, hissing in pain.

 “Sorry” you apologized, “Keep the pressure on yourself, I’m gonna clean you up.”

 He leered at you, the corner of his lips smirking lasciviously. You rolled your eyes, taking the wet towel in your hands and proceeding to clean the dry blood away from his chin and cheek. You cleaned his short beard the best you could and tried to get rid of the blood clots in his fringe, unsuccessfully to your dismay.

 You could feel his eyes piercing yours, his fingers gently sliding across the skin of your shoulder, softly brushing your hair to get it out of the way. You fixed your eyes onto his own only to catch him avoiding your gaze, his attention stuck on staring out at the endless sight of the universe.

 The Master kept his eyes fixed in nowhere in particular while you worked on his wound. You slowly opened one of the band-aids and tried to avoid his hair as much as possible, so you could place it on the side of his head; just above the temple. Now you just had to wait a few minutes to remove it. You had used those curious things several times before and although the healing was sped up, the thing never failed to leave some kind of scar. But even with those odds stacked against him, the Master was always lucky enough to never get scarred- likely thanks to his own unique biology.

 You let yourself fall limp against the door and tilted your head to whatever the Master was looking for. The sight was beautiful as it had always been, millions of stars were almost swallowed by the black nothingness that separated planets, constellations, solar systems, and asteroids. And even at the incredible sight of all of this, you struggled to find something that could possibly retain the Master’s attention for more than a split second.

 “Are you alright? You’ve seemed a little distant lately” you asked again.

 Fixing your eyes on his features you searched for any sign of discomfort, either physical or emotional. At the lack of response your gaze started to wander, his hand catching your attention as he played with something inside of his coat pocket.

 He was likely twisting and curling the TCE between his fingers. It was a trait you had noticed during your time travelling with him, his fingers fidgeting without fail whenever he was deep in thought. It happened every time, he would either tap four beats on any surface he could find or get something to entertain his restless fingers with, most of the time the ‘thing’ being his TCE.

 The memories from the day filled your head then. He had looked distant the whole time, from the very first second he landed the TARDIS in one of the three planets that formed the solar system of one of the seventeen suns in Kasterborous. It was the closest you had ever been to Gallifrey and, still, it was far enough to not be able to admire the beautiful planet that had watched the Doctor and the Master grow into adults for centuries.

 “I’m just planning my next scheme to trap the Doctor”

 You nodded, although you didn’t believe a thing of what he said.

 The words of what you had been thinking for endless nights poured from your lips before your mind could make up an excuse for his strange behavior, like all the other times. No one could blame you, after all you were just trying to protect your heart and mind from shattering.

 “Is it me?” you asked finally, your voice betraying you and showing more emotion than what you had intended.

 The Master suddenly turned his curious gaze to you. So he was paying attention then…

 “Don’t you think I haven’t spotted how distant you’ve been lately” you added, although lately didn’t seem to be the right word. Obviously you had realized how much time he spent alone in the library and how his visits to the room you both shared were becoming less and less frequent. He always claimed he didn’t need to sleep as much, but you had been apart for enough time for you to notice that it was just a cheap excuse to not be there.

 “Do you not want me to be here anymore?”

 He frowned at your words.

 “W-wha-”

 “Are you still happy?” you asked with a hoarse voice, feeling the familiar weight of tears building up in your eyes at the low wheezing sound of the silence. You clenched your jaw and tried to swallow the tears. “Don’t lie to me.”

 He just stared at you in silence for a second, mouthing like a fish out of water, until he finally blinked and tried to make a sound.

 “I-is not-”

 “Just-” you cut him off, feeling again like a lie was about to spill from his lips. “-you seem sad, distant, you’re not happy and you’re lying to me.”

“No-NO!” You snapped when he tried to talk again, “Don’t try to deny it, I can tell. I know you”

 “So…” Anxiously you took a shallow shaky breath “It has something to do with me, doesn’t it?”

 He pressed his lips together for a second but soon relaxed again. Changing his expression, the shimmer in his eyes shifted as he smirked slightly, the dark circles under his eyes failing to achieve the frightening look he was striving for. Maybe it would have worked with anyone else, but not with you.

 “You humans are so vain, always thinking the universe spins around you.”

 “I’m being serious, Koschei”

 He took a breathless gasp, almost as if he had been hit. The name of a time lord was one of the biggest, best-kept secrets in the universe. Only a handful of people had known (or would ever know) the real name of the Doctor, and due to the Master’s lack of sympathy and his trouble to connect with people to an emotional level, even less had known or ever would know his.

 ‘How many?’ you had asked when he confessed his real name one night, his forehead pressing against your sweaty collarbone.

 ‘Only you’ he had whispered, right before kissing your shoulder “and some Time Lords at the Academy, but they are not important.” you heard him take a deep breath, his nose pressed against your throat “All dead now.”

 Those times seemed out of reach. You even asked yourself if he regretted telling you.

 “Not you.” he whispered defeatedly, his head falling to his lap “It could never be you.”

 “What is it then?”

 He shifted his whole body to face you, squirming in his place and unable to keep still. He removed his hand from his pocket, clasping your own tightly.

 “It’s me.” he whispered in a choked breath and looked at your eyes “It’s so selfish of me to want you forever even though I know I don’t deserve you.”

 “Don’t say that!” you replied, struggling to believe the honesty in his voice and eyes. “You’re not serious. You can’t think like that after everything we’ve been through!”

 He focused again on your hands firmly entwined.

 “I believe it because… you’re so good” he looked away briefly towards the stars, before turning his gaze back to you again. “And people like me don’t get good people by their side or moments like this.”

 The Master stroked your palms with his thumbs, suddenly finding them more interesting than his own thoughts. After a few moments he gave a shaky sigh, backing off once more.

 “And if the past few attempts haven’t been proof of that, then I don’t know what could it be.”

 “Proof?” you questioned, “Proof of what? And what do you mean by the past few attempts?”

 He froze in place, and you frowned at his sudden stiffness. His shoulders tensed and body solid as he sighed deeply, his eyes fluttering closed as he tried and failed to relax his posture. The Master grumbled to himself in defeat, his hand dipping back into his pocket and playing with the TCE or whatever he had found to fiddle with once more.

 “I-it’s nothing. Just rambling.” he shrugged in an attempt to consolidate his own thoughts, but not even you believed his body language. “You do it a lot, ramble I mean, ugh, it’s your fault. I’m getting your bad ha-”

 “Does it have something to do with the last few stops?” you insisted, although you knew from personal experience that pressuring the Master to talk more than he wanted was never a good idea “All those… extravagant places, the two dates at the Medusa Cascade…”

 “Dates?”

 You would have laughed at his disgusted look if the atmosphere wasn’t so tense between the both of you. So you just gave him a crooked smile.

 “Yes, Master. That’s what it’s called when a person takes another person for dinner to talk and have a good time, especially when the place is that fancy. I loved it even though...”

 He watched silently as you told him about the whole date and everything that happened afterwards, despite him being there by your side. Although the dinner had started off with good intentions, it had quickly slipped into a tone of awkwardness through no fault of his own. So much so that the chasing and ‘running for your lives’ had been very much welcomed, although he didn’t notice it. He even apologized once you got into the TARDIS. It was fair to say that he was beyond annoyed the first time.

 A month later, when the second date was just another failed attempt in another restaurant in the Medusa Cascade, he had been furious. That was one of the reasons why the console room (or the living room of the house the TARDIS was disguised as) was even messier than usual. He had broken some chairs and cups before following your steps as you had stormed out to the library.

 The Master realized as he watched you talk that there would be no such thing as a perfect time. He silently admired the star light reflecting in your eyes and highlighting your features, oblivious to everything else. He couldn’t believe the fact that fate had found a way for both your souls to meet and connect. It didn’t matter in the end how much he had tried to distance himself from any other form of life in the universe, because at the end of the day you had always been there, always. He didn’t believe in fate, but when he looked back at the few possibilities there was for him to meet a person that he truly cared about, it was hard not to succumb at the idea of a force greater than himself pulling the strings to figure everything out.

 Even if he dared to think for a split second about not seeing you again, he wouldn’t be able to keep his pieces together. The Master wanted to do the right thing for once, and if fate surprisingly existed, he was certain it absolutely despised him. Countless times he had tried to have a full minute in silence with you, just enjoying each other’s company with a beautiful view, and the same amount of times his plans had been ruined by someone or something trying to either kill him, obtain revenge or obtain revenge via killing him. Until that precise moment he had never had regrets about all the people he had annoyed.

 He wondered what he could do now. Kasterborous was the last place on the list, and he was beyond exhausted from trying. On the other hand, he couldn’t give up on you. His best dreams were always about you, but so were his worst nightmares. And whenever and wherever he was he could always be sure about two things: his love for you and his conviction that as long as your heart was beating, so would his.

 How had he expected to make it perfect when your lives had always been so messy? After all, that was the whole basis of your lives: chaos, adventure, nothing ever occurring according to plan. And still, everything seemed to always find a way to fall into place. Not even the tardis had felt like a home before you, but now home seemed to be in his hands whenever he held yours, and he would be so lost if your hand ever left his.

 A sudden current of hope swallowed him whole.

 “Travel the universe with me.” He whispered, loud enough for you to hear.

 You couldn’t help but chuckle at his pleading. However, your laugh died with ease when you turned around to find a pair of saddened eyes.

 You leaned in and stroked his beard in your palm, using a few seconds to admire his lips and features. Sighing, you repositioned yourself with both of your hands in his lap, your eyes staring intensely at his own as you held his attention on yourself.

 “I already travel with you, idiot.” You gave his hands a gentle squeeze, “What’s wrong?”

 The Master took three shallow breaths, his sight lost somewhere in your hands above the fabric of his trousers. You moved away from him again, gazing worriedly to how distant he seemed to be from his own flesh. It was at that moment that his hand emerged from the concealment of his thick purple coat pocket, his fist trembling and knuckles a stark white colour.

 An idea quickly surged in your brain, and you fought to swallow the dry lump in your throat at the fear of something serious happening to him.

 However, that fear quickly vanished when his fist relaxed and his fingers slowly curled open; revealing what was inside for the light of day to see.

 For a split second you thought he wasn’t holding anything, but then your mind acknowledged the shape of a ring sitting proudly in front of your incredulous eyes. The ring was so tiny in his large hand that you couldn’t properly see it until his fist was completely open and flat, it seemed almost a crime to keep something so beautiful concealed in the shadows.

 The ring was silver, encrusted with white circular gemstones that you didn’t even bother to try and name as without a doubt they weren’t from Earth. The central gem shined a dim light almost invisible until he lent his hand to the side. For a second you could have sworn you had seen a fine black line inside of it, the thought quickly dismissed as a trick of the light as your eyes filled with unstoppable tears once again.

 The only thing that could make you look away from the small piece of jewelry was a gentle squeeze to your shoulder, that and the fact that the Master had quickly stowed the ring away in his coat pocket once more. Your trembling body kept your eyes locked on the empty space it had once inhabited regardless, that was until you heard his panicked voice breaking through the loud thumping of your heart in your ears.

 The Master had positioned both his hands against your cheeks which were now wet with your tears, his thumb tracing the contour of your cheek and drawing you away from your reverie. Only then did you dare to look at him again.

 “I-I’m sorry. I-” he took shallow breaths, blinking away the tears forming in his eyes at light speed. “I’m so sorry. Don’t cry, please. Don’t cry.”

 “W-” you tried to ask, but the words in your mouth didn’t seem to appear fast enough in your mind “W-what’s that?”

 He leaned in and pressed his forehead to your own, still wiping away the tears that littered your cheeks with his thumbs. Even from that angle you could discern how one tear slipped away from his right eye, licking gently at the hot skin behind only to die in the corner of his lips.

 “Nothing.” He stated with a shuddered exhale, suddenly cutting himself off by chewing his lip “It’s nothing!”

 “It’s a ring!” You cried in return.

 From all the things you expected from the Master, marriage was very low on the list. He despised most planets and sassily commented about any tradition and culture that wasn’t his own. You had never even bothered to think about marriage, especially after knowing that weddings on Gallifrey were mostly arranged, a mere game to obtain political power and status amongst the community. In Gallifrey weddings weren’t enjoyed and at the end of the day, they didn’t mean anything either; it was just a convenient tool for both parties.

 But you weren’t a Time Lord.

 You were human.

 Just one more human traveling the stars.

 During your travels, you had learned that the meaning of marriage was a timeless concept to the future of the human race, no matter how long someone had been away from Earth or how many millenniums had passed since the Solar System had been destroyed to dust. Some things simply stayed the same.

 So he knew what marriage meant to the human race, and most importantly, he knew what marriage meant to you, for the both of you.

 “No” he tried “No, it’s…”

 “Don’t lie to me” you growled, pushing his shoulders back “Don’t you dare lie to me. I’m tired of getting pushed away. You always, always, do that. And it hurts”

 You buried your head in your knees, your arms wrapping around yourself tightly as tears silently escaped your eyes without remedy. It happened regardless of how you felt, were you happy? nervous? sad? You didn’t even know at this point. The thing with the Master was that he was always so hard to comprehend, despite all the years of traveling and living together. In the end he was always true to his spontaneous, chaotic natures, never failing to surprise you at the least expected moment.

 The Master moved closer, this time pressing his forehead to your shoulder. A second after you felt your own shirt getting damp, your heart tightening in your chest even more, if that was even possible. Knowing that not only was he only trying not to cry in front of you, he was also trying to hide, trying to find somewhere safe to let himself break. It was hard not to think about how much exhaustion and courage it was taking him not to get on his feet and run as far as he could.

 He always had struggled to put his emotions into words, and expressing the depth of his feelings for you was still something he wasn’t quite used to. Even though he had never said I love you openly, you also knew he didn’t need to.

 The Master was the kind of person whose acts always said more than his words. The way he supported you in everything you wanted to do, the soft whispers to wake you up and his habit of making a single cup of coffee in the morning just for you (mostly because he didn’t like the taste). You had spent an endless amount of nights in his arms when you couldn’t sleep, countless days curled up tightly next to him when sickness took over your body. You didn’t remember what nightmares felt like anymore, you hadn’t had one since the first night he shared with you. Yet still, you preferred them to the terror swallowing your body whole when his own nightmares woke you up in the middle of the night.

 “Of course it’s a ring.” he finally admitted, “Im selfish enough to not want you with anyone else or anywhere else. I want you here for as long as we have.”

 His confession was sealed with a feather light kiss against the exposed skin of your neck. “I’ve been trying to ask you for a long time, but it never works out. I fear this will have to do”

 When you pulled away, he quickly wiped all the tears from his face in a rapid and almost angry manner. But even with his cheeks partially dry, you could still see the redness tinted around the edges of his eyes and the tip of his nose, still spot the remnants of tears clinging to his eyelashes.

 You pulled his hands away from his face and cleared away the final tears that slipped across his cheeks. A choked sob tearing from his throat as he tried to take a steadying breath. You could clearly see the conflict he waged with himself, especially so when his hands turned into fists and his jaw clenched so tightly you feared he would break a tooth.

 Pressing the tip of your thumb against his lip, you caressed the soft skin you were dying to kiss. Looking deeply into his eyes, you could tell he seemed to be finally paying full attention.

 “Look at me.”

 “I’m looking at you.”

 “No, you’re not.” You exclaimed, “You’re thinking, not looking. Stop torturing yourself in that head of yours and just… look at me and see.”

 Frown lines marked his face and you took the chance to get rid of the white band-aid that stuck to his forehead; revealing the pristine healed skin underneath.

 “What do you want me to see?” The Master ventured after a moment of silence.

 “How much I love you.” You brushed the tip of his nose with yours and slid your hand against the soft hairs in his jaw. “You need to see it, and believe…”

 His short chuckle was melody to your ears.

 “It's impossible not to see it, love.” He smiled sadly, your skin shivering under his touch as he slid two fingers under the fabric of the shirt’s collar. Lazily he outlined your collarbone, his hands roaming and exploring your skin as though it was an uncharted planet.

 You smiled to yourself, knowing it was yet again another sign of his nervous quirks; the constant need to entertain his fingers with something.

 “It’s there every time I look at you.” The Master continued, “And unfortunately, I never believe what I see.”

 Somehow, you already knew what he was going to say, the words nestled deep within your heart. Closing your eyes, you gently pressed your lips against his own, the moment brief and chaste before backing off almost immediately afterwards.

 “I’ll have to make you then.”

 Leaning forwards your hand reached outwards, pulling the pocket of his coat round as you brazenly dug down into his pocket. It wasn't hard to find the tiny piece of jewelry, but it was definitely harder to free your wrist from the Master’s grip.

 “Please…” he begged with pleading eyes “What are you…?”

 Eventually, and without a word, he let your wrist go. You licked your lips, feeling the coldness of the ring nestled against your own palm but too afraid to open your fist to give it a proper look.

 Taking a deep breath, you finally encouraged yourself to do what had to be done.

 Even before giving the ring a second look, you slowly slid the piece of jewellery on to the place it belonged; where it would always belong. Then with baited breath you drew your gaze carefully across every inch of it, committing every shine, every detail to memory. The circular gem in the middle caught your attention for a lot longer than when you had initially seen it, and you found that the more you fixed your eyes on it, the clearer the thin black lines became inside of the gem.

 You could tell it was gallifreyan, the entwined circles were hard to mistake for any other language, the black dots inside the circumferences were almost impossible to see. You struggled to find the meaning, even with the knowledge from the classes that The Master had given you in the past.

 He seemed to be holding his breath when your eyes watched his features again. Noticing your eyes on him, he swallowed loudly. His whole figure relaxed. His shoulders falling back against the wood-like door, his constant frown fading and hands falling limp in his lap. With nifty fingers brushed away his fringe in an attempt to remove the hair from his eyes.

 He was clearly overwhelmed by the situation and you did understand his reaction, after all he had been trying to propose for a long time.

 “What does it mean?”

 His grin was the biggest he had ever made, his eyes recovering that special shine you hadn’t seen in months.

 “Why do I even bother trying to teach you?”

 “Why do I even bother treating your wounds if you make me want to punch you in the face afterwards?”

 “Uhm… let’s see…” He jokingly teased. Catching your left hand, he brought it closer to his eyes, his gaze fixated on the ring perched on your finger.

 With a steady voice and growing confidence, The Master pronounced a series of sounds that you couldn’t quite comprehend, your mind still flaring with recognition for them as the words he always whispered in your hair during the night.

 Before you could protest about not speaking gallifreyan, he promptly translated.

 “Hold my hand to the ends of the universe.” He took your hand and gently pressed his lips to the ring and the skin around it.

 “This is my promise” he finished with a whisper.

 Your breath was caught in your throat. You only remembered you needed to say something when he warily gazed to your own incredulous eyes. You had no idea what he would decipher in your gaze, as your own torrent of emotions were hard to decode even by yourself. But you caught sight of the huge amount of hope installed in his eyes and your heart hammered in your chest at the sight.

 “Yes, I do.”

 The Master chuckled, your attention catching a glimpse of the happiness exploding in his eyes. It was like watching a supernova explode in before you. He let his head fall to your intertwined hands once again, sliding his fingers to tighten his grip around your own as he held your hand.

 “I wanted to propose to you.” he smirked, “Not marry you on the spot. We have time for that.”

 You chuckled and he lent in, his lips gracing your cheek as he kissed you once more. With his breath hot against your skin, the Master released a shaky, relieved whisper.

 “Thank you, love.”

 With a gentle touch, his hands wandered to the small of your back urging you to lay down on top of him. You followed his guidance with little resistance, hands pressed against his chest as you could hear the rapid beating of his hearts despite the numerous layers of clothing he always wore.

 Excited at the sound, you shifted your hand directly above his hearts, the gemstones in the ring sparkling and reflecting the flickering light of the stars on your finger.

 “I love you.” You whispered as his hands traced circular lines in your back. He made an amused sound and kissed the top of your head.

 “I love you too,” He answered without a moment's hesitation.

[misssophiachase]

All You Never Say - Part 4a

Mr Mikael and Mrs Esther Mikaelson and Dr Grayson and Mrs Miranda Pierce request the pleasure of your presence at the wedding of their children:

The Hon Elijah Edward Mikaelson and Dr Katherine Elena Pierce

On the twenty-third of June, twenty-twenty one, 1400h at Ely Cathedral followed by a reception at Mikaelson Manor, Ely Cambridgeshire

Dress: White Tie

23rd June 2021, Mikaelson Manor, Ely Cambridgeshire - 8:47am

“What do you mean the beagle ate the wedding cake?” Caroline hissed, shutting the door behind her so as not to alarm the bride on her big day.

“Well, I can detail the stages of destruction, but yes, the Mikaelson's beloved pet dog decided to taste test the cake early, long story short.” Caroline was certain that the housekeeper’s use of “the Mikaelson’s beloved pet dog” was clearly by design.

Caroline was all for adorable dogs, especially those that were photogenic for the wedding album like Tully, but not those who scoffed the cake before the ceremony had even begun. Especially given that extra amount of fondant and extra tier which cost the earth.

But given the way Tully looked at her with those imploring, brown eyes and the telling evidence of frosting smeared across her chops, she was close to calling it a day.

Who needed cake anyway? It was worth way too many calories and most people would be so drunk that far into the festivities it wouldn’t even matter, right?

“So, I see you’ve met our cute but pressing problem.”

Caroline turned to see the best man in all his glory. And by that she meant those unkempt curls, sly grin and a fitted, tank top that should be illegal given those arms on display. 

Was this their thing? Just running into each other partially clothed. She looked down at her ensemble self-consciously glad for the shorts, t-shirt and the Maid of Honour monogrammed robe that she greedily pulled across her chest.

“Our problem?”

“Because a problem shared is a problem halved right, wedding buddy?”

“Wedding buddy? Oh, you mean the same guy who wanted to document the lost ring for speech fodder?”

“It was a joke but clearly you don’t know what that means, grouchy.”

“Oh, like that time you let your dog, albeit cute, eat the wedding cake before the ceremony. I only hope the Bride and Groom figurines are still firmly intact at least?”

“Well, their passing was most definitely mourned,” Klaus noted. Caroline was trying to be mad, but he was doing that thing where he looked cute so as to avoid her wrath. Bastard.

“So, what you’re telling me is that we have no cake or cake topper and the wedding is due to start in 5 hours?"

“I mean there’s some cake left, albeit a mess, but if the guests want to eat it off the floor...”

“Yeah, I can see the Prime Minister doing that. You are not helping, Mikaelson. Look, I’ll call the baker, they must have a back-up cake on hand, otherwise why are we paying them such an exorbitant amount? I mean it’s a cake, like it’s hard to bake one of those,” she rambled, the reality of the situation making a sudden and ugly appearance.

“Okay, I didn’t want to tell you this because you are clearly already upset but the baker has no wedding themed alternatives,” Klaus explained, shooing away both the guilty canine and her loyal housekeeper in the process, no doubt by design. This was not the news Caroline wanted to hear and clearly he knew it.

“What?"

“You are not going to lose it, not on my watch, Forbes.”

“I am not losing it,” she hissed, finally finding her voice. “But she is your dog and that makes you responsible for my mood.”

“She is a Mikaelson, I mean expensive taste comes with the territory,” Klaus replied. Caroline, meanwhile, felt the brief spell he had over her lift.

“Can you please stop offering up annoying commentary? We have an emergency, one that needs to be rectified STAT.”

“What I didn’t get to say was that the baker has two other cakes on hand.” Caroline’s ears pricked up, maybe all wasn’t lost.

“I’m listening,” she murmured.

Klaus pulled his cell from his pocket and swiped through his phone. “These are the options.”

He leaned in closer so she could see the photos but in the process his arm grazed hers and she was momentarily blindsided and not focused on the pressing emergency. It reminded her so much of two years ago, when she’d felt his arm encircle her waist and pull her towards him. 

Caroline told herself he must have been dreaming at the time but that didn’t take away from how it had felt. It felt good, really good.

“Alright, love?” She looked up into his blue eyes, only deciding too late that it was a bad idea. A very bad idea.

“I’m just shocked by...” she paused, her eyes hurriedly flickering to his cell screen. “Congratulations on your Retirement, Bernie?”

“I’m sure we can change a few letters around or something,” she gave him a look which plainly said it wasn’t going to happen. “Right, here’s the other one."

“Happy 6th Birthday to our Unicorn Princess? Don’t think Kat would mind being called a unicorn princess at all but not sure about Elijah...”

“Well, what suggestions do you have, Forbes?”

He had a point, there were none that forthcoming but then it hit her.

“The bomboniere.” Caroline was surprised she thought of it given she was so caught off guard by his close proximity and the unfolding situation.

“The what?”

“I don’t have time to explain wedding terminology right now, I have a bride to reassure that everything is peachy. Just meet me in the kitchen in twenty minutes and put some clothes on while you’re at it.”

“Only if you do,” he smirked. Caroline didn’t wait before slamming the door in his smug face.

There were so many things to reconcile with Klaus Mikaleson and not just her feelings. Last night they’d shared more than a sandwich in the kitchen and two years ago...well that was another story.

Perch, Los Angeles CA - 14 February (two and a bit years earlier)

Caroline felt like she’d finally hit rock bottom.

Not because it was Valentine’s Day.

Or that she was single.

That wasn’t the worst part of her predicament. She was currently...well, before she could lament her situation a bell rang out, breaking Caroline from her regretful thoughts. She didn’t have time to bid Phil the Chiropractor farewell because a burly looking brunette appeared immediately in his place.

“Tyler.” Apparently there was no need for an actual greeting or for Caroline to ask his name in the first place. I suppose they only had two minutes so he was getting straight to the point. Caroline couldn’t blame him given how painful this whole thing was.

Caroline was going to kill them. First Bonnie, who wanted their apartment to herself tonight so she could cook a romantic dinner for current boyfriend Jeremy. Clearly he hadn’t been present at her most horrific of food failures given they were still dating.

They’d been living together since Bonnie relocated to Los Angeles nine months earlier and Caroline was enjoying rooming with her best friend again after so long. Then she got a boyfriend, even if he looked twelve, and Caroline was relegated back to her usual existence. It wasn’t like Caroline wanted or needed a boyfriend because her schedule was busy enough.

Which took her to the second person she had to blame. Lexi. Her colleague and friend, who decided they should spend the evening speed dating so Bonnie could “get it on with her boyfriend” as she put it. Caroline figured the fact she’d already signed them up weeks earlier and only asked right before a deposition hearing were the main reasons why she had no choice but to agree.

Now, here she was, pretending to be interested in Tyler and shooting deliberate looks in Lexi’s direction who seemed unaffected given the way she was attempting to read her guy’s palm. Smooth.

“I don’t think I got your name?”

“Huh?” She looked into his warm, brown eyes feeling guilty she’d been blatantly ignoring him.

“Your name?” Before she could reply, she heard a very familiar voice call out her name.

Then he appeared in all his gorgeous goodness, his ability to wear a suit had not waned since they’d seen each other last at a mutual friend’s engagement party. Why he was here of all places, she had no idea.

“Caroline, sweetheart.” Sweetheart?

“Do you know this guy?” Tyler asked, the confusion obvious. She didn’t blame him.

“Of course she knows me, I’m only her boyfriend.”

Her what now? Caroline was too shocked to speak let alone reprimand him for being a presumptuous idiot.

“You have a boyfriend? Then why are you here?”

“I’d like to know the same thing, mate,” Klaus agreed, his hands crossed over his chest. Caroline was madly trying to crawl under the table just so everyone would stop looking at her like she was some two-timing girlfriend.

Lexi meanwhile seemed to be enjoying the entertainment from afar, raising her champagne glass in salute, even if she had no idea what was happening. Caroline wasn’t enjoying it at all. She wanted to scream at him for being such an ass but at the same time a rescue from this situation was an equally enticing prospect.

“I…”

Before she could find the words, he found them for her.

“It’s my fault, sweet cheeks,” he implored, pushing past Tyler and placing his hands in hers. Caroline was trying to ignore the electricity it generated but also the horrible pet name he’d bestowed. Like he couldn’t have come up with something normal? “I neglected you and for that I am so sorry but just know that I will love you, always and forever.”

Was he kidding? Next thing he’d be pulling out a cracker jack bracelet or resembling any one of the romantic leads in a Nicholas Sparks adaptation. Caroline made a note to tease him about his taste in movies and television later.

However it seemed their audience didn’t mind one bit. Women and men nearby were more interested in fawning over the scene playing out than resuming speed dating. Even their organiser seemed transfixed.

She hated him, especially for interrupting her night and being the smug pain-in-the-ass she knew so well but she needed to get out of there fast and he was her ticket.

“Honey bear,” she cooed, noting the slight twitch in his jaw. Caroline knew he was trying to withhold his signature smirk. But why did he have to smell so good withholding it? His hands were still firmly intertwined with hers too. “You took me for granted, so why should I forgive you?”

Now he was trying to contain an eye roll, only someone who’d known him for that long could tell. And she was loving every moment especially if he was going to crash her speed date and embarrass her in the process.

“And for that I am eternally sorry, baby cakes.” Caroline had to really try not to dry reach. “But you are the one for me. We are destined to be together forever, like soulmates.”

As much as she wanted to draw this out and force him to eat those horrible and predictable platitudes, this show needed to end. Now. Given Tyler’s defeated expression she knew it wouldn’t be too difficult to transition to the bar and to a much-needed straight vodka on the rocks.

“You were an imbecile, Mario, but I’m willing to consider a reconciliation if you stop being an asshat and promise to worship me forever.”

Before she could relish in her response and the slight tugging at the edges of his crimson lips, he’d pulled her up and moved them towards the direction of the bar. No doubt because her demands were slightly out of the question and he was starting to feel embarrassed himself. Served him right really. Given half of the people were entranced by their conversation and the rest were clearly dubious she decided it was good timing to high tail it out of there.

“Worship you forever, someone clearly has tickets on themselves,” he muttered, gesturing to the barman. “And who is Mario? I so do not look like a Mario.”

“Says the man child named Mario who called me sweet cheeks and baby cakes."

“I was clearly being sarcastic,” he shot back, gesturing for a shot. “What was honey bear all about then?”

“You barrelled into my life uninvited, and last time I checked you don’t live here.”

“I'm in town for business and was having dinner with colleagues. Had I known it was going to be dinner and a show I might have arrived sooner.” Caroline chose not to respond immediately, just drank her vodka in one, long gulp. “Someone is thirsty.”

“I need to drink to deal with you.”

“Says the girl speed dating,” he whistled. “I mean you can be difficult and kind of abrasive, Forbes, but I never thought you’d speed date in a million years.”

“I am only doing this for Bonnie because she wanted the apartment to herself to cook for her date and then my friend Lexi signed me up without telling me,” she rambled.

“She’ll have another vodka,” he gestured to the barman. “So, I take it this boyfriend hasn’t sampled Bennett’s cooking yet? I just hope you left the fire extinguisher in plain view.”

“That’s what you took from all of this?’"

“I feel like if I delve too deeply I’ll be too immersed in all the Rebekah type drama and we both know that is not my thing.”

“I’ll be sure to pass on your best wishes to your sister,” she growled. “So, why involve yourself and embarrass me like that in front of total strangers? Let me guess, you’ve got no one to play with and were bored?”

“Don’t underestimate my ability to find a playmate, love.” The way he drawled “playmate” was making places below feel like they hadn’t in a long time. So much so that she didn’t even try to bite back. “Anyway, I thought it would be fun,” he teased, his left dimple making an unwanted appearance at that exact moment. “And I could tell you you needed rescuing.”

“I’m not some damsel in distress you need to save, Mikaelson,” she argued.

“Says the girl who looked like she’d rather be anywhere but here,” he shot back. “So, you’re welcome.”

“Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss!” The patrons began to chant and tap their glasses, Caroline only just realising they seemed to have an audience of very interested speed daters watching their every move.

“I’m going to need more vodka,” she muttered, “But not here.”

Roosevelt Hotel, Beverly Hills - 2 hours later

“So, this is where you bring all your playmates?” It was the first thing that came to mind when Caroline spied the king size bed taking pride of place in his suite. They’d spent an hour at 25 degrees, the hotel’s poolside bar and were now in his suite.

Inexplicably.

Okay, maybe not so inexplicably.

Caroline wasn’t one to go to a guy’s hotel room - especially this particular one - but between the vodka buzz and the fact Lexi had picked up and Bonnie was enjoying her night in their apartment there wasn’t much choice about where to go.

The vodka had helped loosen her usual inhibitions and, although she’d never say it aloud, Caroline was enjoying his company. Although, if anyone asked about this temporary bout of insanity she’d blame the alcohol.

“ Says the woman who was questioning the existence of said playmates only a few hours earlier.”

“So, you won’t mind if I do this?” She stated, not bothering to ask his permission as she discarded her heels and jumped onto the perfectly made bed. He stopped what he was doing momentarily, his eyes transfixed on her short, black dress and bouncing, blonde waves.

“I’m going to have to tip the maid extra now,” his voice was low, husky almost.

“Maybe she deserves it,” Caroline shot back.

He didn’t respond immediately, just shrugged off his suit jacket and loosened his tie. She was watching him do it like it was in slow motion. Then he rolled up his shirt sleeves. Who knew forearms could be so...appealing?

Caroline was starting to think that she was entering some sort of alternate universe she needed to escape, if only just to keep her sanity and self respect. I mean he was Klaus Mikaelson and she wasn’t one of his “playmates.” Not by a long shot.

“Drink?”

“Water, please,” she replied immediately, he cocked an eyebrow as if to say she was no fun. “I’m a cheap drunk, what can I say? And who knows what else I might trash in this place under the influence?”

He seemed to accept her response, busying himself with drink preparation. “So, why exactly did you go speed dating in the first place?” He asked, filling a tall glass with ice cubes.

“I told you,” she panted, finally tiring of the activity and making herself comfortable on the expansive bed. “Bonnie…”

“I heard that version,” he pressed. “But I want the real one.”

He passed her the water and made himself comfortable on the bed, his aftershave combining with the dizziness and messing with her overall composure.

“It’s Valentine’s Day, and maybe you don’t understand, but spending it alone can kind of suck,” she confessed. “Especially when your roomie kicks you out of the house.”

“I just hope you kick Bennett out on Halloween as payback.”

“You like Halloween?”

“You have no idea, love,” he chuckled. “No rose petals or corny ballads, just blood, guts and general mayhem.”

“Noted.”

“It’s just this ridiculous Hallmark Holiday,” Klaus offered, stretching out further and grazing her legs in the process. “It creates unrealistic expectations.”

“So, it’s Hallmark’s fault?”

“Hallmark is the tip of the iceberg,” he explained. “Every candy company, every florist, every jeweller and don’t even get me started on those terrible things they call romantic comedies.”

“You don’t like romantic comedies?”

“I try to steer clear for my own sanity, Caroline.”

“Not tonight,” she murmured, an idea suddenly coming to mind. “If I’m forced to stay in this mediocre hotel with you then...”

It was a lie and they both knew it but suddenly the less tipsy version of herself felt like she needed an excuse to stay the night with her best friend’s brother in such close quarters.

“I demand a movie marathon.”

“Terminator, Rambo, Rocky?”

“It’s Valentine’s Day, Mikaelson,” she shot back. “And I happen to know there is a marathon on television tonight.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me?”

“I’m deathly serious,” she answered. “But before we start, I’m going to need some popcorn and a shirt.”

“You want my shirt?”

“Not the shirt you’re wearing, lover boy, don’t get so excited. But I can’t sleep in this dress.”

His eyes seemed to linger a little too long on her body and Caroline was trying to do everything in her power to remain calm. Luckily he broke the silence not too long after.

“I’ll get you a shirt, but I’m not going to enjoy these movies at all, understand? I am only watching these ridiculous excuses of cinema because you’ve taken my television hostage?”

2 hours later…

“So, the apparent “virgin who can’t drive” ends up with the step brother? I mean I’m not surprised given the poor and predictable plot but is this kind of union legal in the state of California?”

“For the fiftieth time, he’s not related,” she growled, throwing a few popcorn kernels in his direction. This is about Cher realising that material things in life aren’t everything.”

"Whatever you say, Forbes. Although, tell me after this movie ended she ditched the mansion, the jeep, the designer plaid and knee sock combination outfits and moved to the Valley?”

He was annoying but also eerily observant.

“Yes, I mean maybe? People with money can change.”

“They’ve clearly never met Mikael or Esther.”

He said it quietly but Caroline couldn’t mistake the pain in his voice. She knew about his difficult past but they’d never been close enough to discuss it and given they were lying in the same bed it didn’t seem like the best time to open that pandora’s box.

“Do I have a great choice for you next,” she promised, her eyes sparkling, hoping to lift the mood.

2 hours later…

“Are you crying?”

“No, for the last time I have allergies, Caroline.”

“Inside?”

“The pollen level was high today and the doors in these rooms are forever opening and closing. Maybe the maid doesn’t deserve such a big tip after all.”

Maybe it was cruel, but it was on television and there was no stopping the effects of the Notebook on even the most emotionless male.

2 hours later…

“I thought I’d seen everything,” he scoffed, stretching out tiredly. “She paid a guy to be her wedding date?”

“Not just anyone, he’s hot.”

“He’s an escort.”

“I think it adds to his overall appeal. He knows how to treat a woman because of his experience.”

“And how many escorts have you met?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Wow, if you ever show up to a wedding with a stranger, I’ll be asking for their credentials,” he joked. “Wait, you think he’s attractive?”

“Didn’t I just say that?”

“Each to their own I suppose, but that aside, the whole premise is just unrealistic.”

“It is a movie.”

“Yeah, a romantic comedy,” he shot back. “Case closed. Now, can we please sleep already? I think I deserve it after that marathon effort.”

“Fine,” she conceded, leaning across to turn off the lamp. “I have to say your shirt is very comfortable.”

“It should be," he replied, snuggling into the covers. “That’s my lucky Ramones t-shirt.”

As her head hit the pillow, Caroline was wondering why he gave her that particular shirt to wear. She couldn’t deny just how good the worn fabric felt against her bare skin and how the faint hint of his aftershave consumed her senses.

Sleep was immediate.

When she woke up the next morning and felt his arm encircle her waist and pull her towards him Caroline relished in the feeling. She assumed life would go back to normal but for now she was happy to live in the moment. It was probably better that way.

Read on AO3 HERE 

[fanficsforheartandsoul]

The Dragonborn | M!Reader x Geralt of Rivia | Part II

Note: I split the oneshot because damn 12k does nobody want to read in one go xD

Fandoms: The Witcher (TV Series), The Elder Scrolls: Skyrim

Warnings: Non-Canon Story, Swearing, Gore, Slight OOC

Summary: Geralt and Jaskier meet a stranger in the woods while on the hunt for a special monster. They decide to team up but neither does Geralt realize that his prey is close to him nor does the stranger notice he's the one being hunted...

Word Count: 6938

If you want to be tagged in my stories send me a pm with the fandom/character name!

Please note that The Witcher is supposed to be around the Middle-Age. Homophobia existed. 

Part I

_______

A few hours later, after they had eaten the rabbit, they began to look for tracks of the monster. There were a lot of them. For example, the scorched moss where Geralt almost turned into roasted meat, the dark footprints in the dirt, and the fallen trees. 

The witcher was impressed by how good the warrior from Keizaal could search for tracks. 

“You see that, Jaskier? The way the claws dig in the ground? It means the claws of the dovah are really big. That’s pretty unusual for female dragons, so it’s obvious we’re dealing with a male. But we uh... know that because Odahviing is male.”

While Jaskier and Y/N genuinely searched for any signs he just stared at the foreigner. He somehow felt like he had found a kindred spirit in the man standing in front with his back facing him. 

A weird association, but there were only a few things that could really impress Geralt. 

Magic, Fighting Skills, and usually breasts. 

Which made him sound like a skirt chaser, but that wasn't it. It just meant what it meant. Dicks definitely didn't attract hi-

"What the hell?"

He lifted his eyes from the lower body of Y/N, and his breath hitched when those e/c eyes pierced his. Did he see...?

"The footprints are gone!"

Oh. That.

"That does make sense... Or not? It's a dragon, after all? They can fly. Or not? Can they?"

 Jaskier stepped in front of him and obstructed his view on the other. Geralt turned and touched his face. His cheeks were burning. What's gotten into him? He remembered something Yennefer had told him once as a half-joke. 

I sometimes think that if I haven't met you, you would have chosen someone who fights like you, thinks like you, who lives like you. And from what I believe that someone would have been a man. Because it needs a brute to move a brute's heart. 

While his head was filled with thousand thoughts, Y/N and the bard inspected the tracks closer.

"It can't be that he took off. Do you see how the footprints are as deep as the others? If he wanted to fly away, they would be deeper because he had needed to shift his weight."

"Is that something you learned while hunting for the other dragons with the Dragonborn?"

The man from Keizaal nodded. Some locks fell into his face, and his expression was thoughtful while he searched for a plausible explanation. Geralt could see every feature of his sharp e/c eyes. 

They were different from Yennefer's violet ones, their spark was different, but for other people, they must be as enthralling as the eyes of the sorceress to him. That's at least what he believed. They had a particular pull. He didn't feel it, but it was there. Puzzling, but powerful. 

A cough pulled him away from Y/N's eyes, and Jaskier stared at him with a grin. 

"What?" he asked, his voice almost defensive.

"Nothing," responded his friend with a knowing undertone. What the hell was going on?

"Well, I can't think of anything that happened. Witcher, what about you?" 

The mesmerizing eyes turned to him, and he blinked. What was the question?

Thankfully, I always have a good answer ready. 

"Hmm." 

He shifted and knelt to see the footprints up close. They had a certain distance to each other as if the dragon was walking slowly. Y/N was right; he couldn't have flown away, the marks were too shallow. Either he disappeared into thin air, or the monster had an amazing control when it came to his weight.

 "Strange..." was all he said.

He focused on the sounds around them, but there was nothing extraordinary. Just the whistle of the wind, a few birds singing, and the steady heartbeats of the other two men. It was a dead end. 

"Fuck."

He looked up, surprised that he and the warrior of Keizaal said the same thing at the same time. Y/N shot him a grin, and Geralt snorted. 

"Maybe we should try to set up a trap"

He turned and watched Jaskier's expression. It was a good idea, and they didn't have any other options, besides he wasn't really in the mood to search the whole forest for the dragon. The h/c haired man agreed and pulled a bow out of his satchel. The bard's eyes once again widened.

"I want a bag like this too."

"If you don't want to carry your things anymore, you can give them to me. I'll store them."

Jaskier smiled brightly, and Y/N returned it. Something flared up in Geralt's chest, but he ignored it. Damn bruises make my chest hurt. 

The bard gave the foreigner their things, and he put them in his satchel. 

"Let's think about the trap," the warrior tested the string of his bow and then focused his eyes on Geralt and Jaskier. 

"Dragons are usually very picky about their food, but I belie- know that Odahviing is fine with deer meat. We should hunt some." 

.

And they did. With the help of Geralt's tracking skills and crossbow and the Y/N's bow, they easily got two does. Although it took a while to find them since most animals steered free of the area where the dragon rampaged. 

Geralt and Jaskier only watched, while Y/N slashed the throats of the already dead animals. 

"Dovahs have a keen sense of smell; we have to cover our own scent."

He continued to drench his hands with the blood and even smeared some on his neck and armor. When he couldn't hear the other two approaching, Y/N turned around and tilted his head questioningly. 

"U-Uh, what did you say?" asked the bard and avoided his gaze. 

“What? Did I say something wrong? Can you... Is it a sacrilege to use doe bloo-"

 Geralt interrupted him. 

"We couldn't understand what you said because you spoke in a different language." 

Y/N widened his eyes, and an apologetic look crossed his face. 

"I'm sorry...”

Jaskier’s slightly odd expression concerned him and he examined the witcher. Geralt was more intrigued than scared by the fact the atmosphere in the woods seemed to have changed as soon as the other spoke in his probably native language. 

The fact that Y/N’s voice got a lot deeper while he spoke, caused a shiver to run down his spine. The foreigner apologized again and then added:

“I said the dragon could smell us. We should cover our scent with the blood."

Jaskier didn't seem to like the idea, but the witcher nodded and followed his advice. 

Soon the bard's and his hands were stained with doe blood. Geralt was unaffected by it since he already got used to it by hunting monsters for years, but the other man looked a little pale. 

The warrior watched their actions and then approached the white-haired man. His yellow eyes followed all of his movements. 

"You should also put some on your throat... It’s a place where a lot of sweat gathers." 

As soon as Y/N touched his collarbone and neck, Geralt stiffened. Actually, he froze. Something about another man touching his carotid artery was really intimate. His nose caught the smell of iron, moss, and smoke. 

Someone who lives like you. 

Yennefer's words replayed in his mind, and he couldn't stop himself from unconsciously moving his head closer to the other man. 

The warrior was only a few centimeters smaller than him, his head reached up to his eyebrows. The hands on his throat were rough and slippery, but they touched him with such gentleness, Geralt had to shiver. 

He gulped, and his adam's apple pressed against Y/N's palm. The afternoon sun danced on the other man’s scars, and eyelashes and Geralt wondered if every man had such long ones. He breathed in and closed his eyes. 

Is this the essence of a kindred spirit?

Suddenly Y/N's hands disappeared from his throat, and he could no longer feel the warrior's presence so close to him. 

“Put some on your cheeks too.”

A little disappointed, he opened his eyes and noticed that the other man had already turned and now approached Jaskier just to do the same thing to the bard that he did to him. 

Y/N's bare hands touched his friend's throat, and neck and Geralt suddenly had a very, very dark thought. 

Abruptly he turned around and covered his lower face with his hand. 

Did I... About this man...? 

He could feel how heat crept up his neck, and he questioned the emotionlessness that every witcher was supposed to have. 

What the fuck was he thinking? He has Yennefer! 

Or at least had. Their relationship was somewhat in the stars at the moment. After their rather big fight last time... 

Geralt didn't know why that mattered though.

He buried the fluttery feeling that had sprouted in his chest when the other man had touched him. 

What he didn't realize, Y/N's heartbeat was pounding faster after the physical contact they had just shared.

-

After they had covered their scent with deer blood, they also smeared some dirt on their armor and clothes, much to the dismay of Jaskier. Then they decided to set up their stakeout one hundred meters away from the carcasses. 

It was close enough to quickly attack, but also far away enough for them to be safe in case the dragon wanted to grill them. They sat on the mossy ground and leaned on the trees surrounding them.

"Now, all we have to do is wait."

Patience was something every hunter was supposed to have, and both Geralt and Y/N obviously had it. The bard, on the other hand... 

The witcher's left eyebrow twitched in annoyance. After his friend had whistled, he began to eye the two men. Jaskier's stare felt like a cockroach was crawling over his body. He had a bad premonition about the weird behavior of the brown-haired man. He glared at him, but he just grinned. 

Stop staring! 

Geralt turned his head away and noticed how the warrior from Keizaal seemed to concentrate on something around his neck. He clenched and unclenched his fist with an absent expression. 

He watched for a while and then realized that Y/N was holding a ring that he wore on a necklace. 

A sinking feeling appeared in his gut, and he suddenly felt like a mountain weighed his shoulders down. 

"You have a wife?" 

His mouth was faster than his thoughts. 

The man startled and then shared eye contact with him. 

"Something like that..." 

Geralt frowned a little. What kind of answer was that? He stared at Y/N with a hard look, but the other added nothing else, just sighed and hid the ring under his heavy armor. 

The witcher only grunted and turned to face the direction of their trap. 

Shit, why was he so annoyed? 

The idea of the warrior having a doting wife waiting for him in Keizaal made his heart clench, and his chest felt tight. 

This time he couldn't blame the bruises on his rips. 

He finally acknowledged that the h/c haired man intrigued him and caused some rather odd feelings to rise. 

But this... Why... Why the fuck was he feeling jealous? 

And it wasn't even that the man had a wife, no; he was jealous because some woman had Y/N. 

That dragon must have indeed killed some of his brain cells. 

His yellow eyes traveled back to the other man's figure. His broad shoulders were hidden under his armor, but Geralt had seen them. 

Just after he had woken up, he had seen the man in regular clothes. Although he had worn a shirt, the witcher had been able to see how muscular Y/N was. 

His body seemed to be covered with scars. Tiny cuts on his hands, big slashes on his collarbone, and even some nasty ones close to his throat. Geralt was sure there were many more, but he wasn't able to see them. They were proof of fierce fights and the experiences the man had had to go through. 

Was it weird that they attracted him? 

Like the hands in his dreams that had traveled over his, the Butcher of Blaviken wanted to trace Y/N's scars with his fingers. He wanted to feel how his body had healed him, wanted to know the story of every scratch and bruise, wanted to touch the energetic muscles bursting with strength. 

A flame of desire began to burn in his body, and he lowered his head to hide the dark expression he wore on his face. 

These thoughts needed to stop; they would only become problematic in the future. 

Geralt scratched his neck and then examined the brown-red flakes under his fingernails. 

He felt a stare on his body again, and he sighed. 

God damn Jaskier...

When he lifted his head, he was surprised to see that it wasn't the bard who looked at him but the warrior from Keizaal. Y/N's e/c eyes were unfathomable, but he showed a somber expression. He paused for a second, and the world seemed to turn slower. 

The witcher could see every blemish on the other man's skin, every mole, every freckle. Geralt breathed in slowly, and the warrior's hair swayed in the wind. 

He's so handso... The wind?

Geralt abruptly stood up. 

"The-the wind turned!" he muttered and gulped. His cheeks felt hot, and he bit his lip. Jaskier frowned.

"Doesn't this mean that our smell would be...?" 

Y/N sighed and nodded. 

"Is a lake close by?" 

The bard shook his head. 

"But, we're only a few miles away from the sea."

The witcher watched the other man closely while he questioned the other's exhausted expression. 

"The wind has turned due to the late afternoon. We should move."

Geralt and Jaskier only watched when the other stood up and grabbed his bow. 

"Why not wait until the wind turns again?" asked the bard, and he followed after the h/c haired man. 

"That won't be the case until tomorrow. The sea has saved the warmth from the sun while the land cooled down. We have to wait until the land is warmer again." 

Jaskier eyed Y/N carefully. Geralt could already guess what he was thinking. He understood what the warrior from Keizaal meant. He learned about it when he was training to become a witcher. 

"So, what are we going to do now?"

They both contemplated for a while and then Geralt spoke:

"Maybe we should indeed wait for tomorrow. I think it would be best if you tell us some more things about your dragon before we storm into this unprepared." 

He tried to suppress a triumphant smile when the other two agreed. Of course, he wouldn't admit that he actually just wanted to spend some more time with Y/N. 

He had a thought that they wouldn't meet again after this whole thing was over. 

"Then what do we do about the deer corpses?" asked Jaskier, and it was a reasonable question. If they left them, they could attract other animals... 

Both the witcher and the warrior looked at each other and then huffed. The bard just stared between them, and his face gradually darkened.

"You're not... thinking about eating them are-are you?"

-

Two hours later, they had put up a camp close to a clear pond and already roasted some rabbit meat. 

They had buried the does, and although the physical labor was annoying, Jaskier was relieved that the two brutes didn't decide to eat them. The dead animals had been lying in the sun for a long time after all. 

Y/N was peeling his armor off and thinking about the situation he was in right now. 

The fact that they were on the hunt for a dragon excited him. Not the actual part of the chase but the fact that he would meet another specimen of his current best friends. 

After he had killed Alduin, he had lost himself in a killing spree. Paarthurnax had warned him to get a hold of himself, but he wasn’t able to. His dragon soul caused him to lose all rational thoughts.

When he finally realized that he could learn so much more about Akatosh and the dovahs, he had already committed mass slaughter, and Odahviing and the wise dragon from The Throat of the World were the last ones of their species. 

Or that's at least what the three of them had thought. But they were wrong, and now he had the chance to meet another dragon! And probably also the chance to go home. If he wanted to.

But first, they had to get a hold of him. 

"Jaskier?"

He faced the bard who currently played on his lute while also watching the fire. He hummed in response and looked up.

"We should wash off the blood in the pond. Do you want to go first?"

The man seemingly wanted to say yes but then shook his head and responded with a slight grin:

"No, you can go first. I'll watch the rabbit."

Y/N furrowed his brows but then smiled and thanked him. He left the pile of his armor and Jaskier behind and wandered to the pond, which was located behind some trees and big boulders. 

The view from the camp was obscured, which meant he had some privacy. Not that he cared much, but he would rather not show his back to the two other men. Since it showed one more change he had gone through in the last year.

Although Geralt wasn't currently in the camp anyway, he left to get some more branches for the fire.

The man carefully opened his shirt and took it off. His boots, pants, and underwear soon followed suit, and he stepped to the shore where some reed grew. 

The water was cold when he stepped in, but he endured it. His muscles just tensed a little. 

Y/N walked in further until the water reached his abdomen. He wasn’t even halfway in the pond, it was fairly big. 

He sucked in some air when he lowered himself into the water until it reached his chin. He had to rub his skin a little, but then the water around him turned slightly red. 

The man watched how the deer blood twirled, and he stared at his reflection. The red blood on his cheeks conjured a cursed memory in his head, and he heaved. 

Hii los dur, Dovahkiin. Hi aal krii zu'u nu nuz zu'u ahrk pah dii Zeymah fen koraav hi mah wah hin daan. You are cursed, Dragonborn. You may kill me now, but all my brethren and I will see how you fall to your doom. 

The ominous words of the last dovah he had killed echoed in his mind. He hugged himself, and his fingers touched his shoulder blades. 

The skin was still shedding. Y/N sighed. What was going on with his body? The shedding had started a few months ago but he had no idea why. 

And since it only started after he had arrived here he couldn’t ask Odahviing or Paarthurnax.

He breathed out slowly and then dived underwater. 

The coldness cleared his head a little, and he relaxed slightly. His feet left the muddy ground, and for a moment, he floated. 

If I could just stay like this... 

His hand clenched to a fist, and he released some Magicka. The small pressure on his nose disappeared, and he automatically breathed in. 

Air filled his lungs, and the Dragonborn smiled. Peace washed over him, and he spread his arms. 

He slowly floated to the surface, and his face broke through it. Water droplets pearled from his cheeks and eyelashes, and he stared into the sky. The tree crowns whistled, and he watched how some clouds traveled across the darkening sky. The sun was already setting. 

This was the ending of the first day together with the bard and the witcher. Geralt's face came to his mind, and he bit his lip. 

The white-haired man reminded him of Farkas, but he was also completely different. His attitude for example. Farkas was openly benevolent and also voiced his concerns. The witcher seemed to be reluctant. Although Y/N was able to feel that he cared deeply for his friend. 

They shared the same keen instincts, but Geralt's came from the harsh trials witchers had to go through while his love had them because he had been a werewolf. 

I can't believe that you chose Farkas over Vilkas. Do you like strength more than brains? 

Aela's voice sounded in his head, and Y/N huffed. 

The huntress had probably been right. He was attracted to the Butcher of Blaviken. These yellow eyes... They had something animalistic and penetrating that stirred an urge deep inside of him. 

He sighed and put his hands on his face. Then he scrubbed and splashed his face with water. 

Suddenly, he caught sight of a person standing behind a tree at the other side of the pond after he had wiped droplets from his eyes and opened them again.

Y/N breath stopped, and a wail got caught in his throat. He abruptly stood up again, although it felt like he had still no ground under his feet. What...? 

Light blue eyes framed by black war paint stared at him with a resentful look.

"Fa-Far..." 

His voice failed, but he agitatedly began to move across the pond, trying to reach his lost lover and husband.

Breath erratic and tears were pricking in the corners of his eyes, but at that moment, he only felt happiness and relief. Farkas was alive!

"D-Dii Shul!" My Sunshine!

The ground suddenly declined, he lost his footing and dived involuntarily underwater. 

Nevertheless, he was still able to hear the words that had left the lips he had kissed so often. 

"So, you've abandoned me."

An ice-cold feeling washed over him, and his heart broke.

No, that's not true! I would never! You were gone! You left me! You died!

A disturbing scream erupted from his throat, and the skin around his mouth tore. The scream turned into a roar, and he clawed at his face. The e/c eyes shook, and the black pupils turned to slits. 

Shreds of flesh got caught by growing claws, and gigantic fangs emerged from the man's jaws. 

H/C hair parted, shrunk, and gave way for two enormous horns. His whole body shook, and his limbs twisted and cracked. His spine grew longer, broke through his lower back, and two bony wings arose from his back. 

The murky water of the pond turned red and swirled around the tremoring creature who rapidly grew until it was able to stand on the pond bed. Flesh turned hard and into black scales. New tissue engulfed its wings and tail and also got covered by rockhard scales.

Burning heat crawled up its throat, and furious flames burst from its maw. It broke through the pond's surface, and the splashed water evaporated immediately. 

The dragon spread its wings, and they created waterfalls when they left the water. The wingspan was as big as half of the pond, and when it pulled them closer to its body ready for takeoff, the leaves and needles of the surrounding trees shook. 

A thunderous boom announced the beast's presence, and it tensed its huge muscles. 

When it thrust off the pond bed, the water turned into waves and flooded over the shore and soaked shoes and clothes. Branches broke like grass when the dragon's wings grazed them, and trees lost all their leaves from the harsh wind which got created.

A scent caught the dragon’s attention and it whipped its head around. A triumphant roar shook the earth when it dashed towards the direction the smell came from.

The beast ignored the scared brown-haired human that stared at it from a small campsite.

-

Geralt was grabbing some more branches when he saw some Celandine, and he swiftly decided to take them with him. They were always helpful, after all. 

Putting the branches on the ground, he knelt and carefully tore the flowers and the not yet bloomed buds from their stems. 

While he stored them, his thoughts trailed off to the mysterious man who accompanied him and Jaskier.

Y/N had sparked something inside of him, and now he was questioning his heart, which confused him even more since the person he found interesting was a man. 

On the other hand, he couldn't quite tell if the feeling in his chest was something along the lines of romantic attraction or just common interest. 

Deep down in Geralt's heart, he knew that him eyeing the other man's ass was definitely not something one would call a platonic interest, but he just couldn't admit that he, who never thought about other men like that, suddenly liked one. 

He didn't feel disgusted, but the thought alarmed him.

He had seen a lot of things during his time as a witcher, and relationships between two men were never something that ended well. Various churches took care of that. 

An image in his head made his fists clench unconsciously.

And there was still Yennefer. They never openly ended their relationship so... Was he still involved with her? He couldn't tell. 

The Butcher of Blaviken sighed and then noticed a pebble in the moss. It had white streaks over its grey shape, and they reminded him of the scars in the foreigner's face. 

Was he seriously associating weird things to Y/N now?

Maybe the other cursed him. 

While he pondered some more about the other man, it took a while for him to notice that the forest had turned unnaturally silent. 

Birds stopped singing as if they held their breaths in fear, and suddenly a roar disrupted the silence. It came from far away, but Geralt was able to hear it loud and clear because of his mutated hearing.

He abruptly stood up and turned towards the direction. It came from the camp, and Geralt's heart sank. 

Please no.

He disregarded the branches he had meticulously collected and started to rush back the way he came from. Thankfully he had taken his swords with him, and he unsheathed the silver one. 

The image of the bard and the foreigner being killed carried his feet forward and pushed him to almost inhumane speed.

He wasn't even halfway back when a shadow cast on the moss stopped him in his tracks. A gigantic black dragon soared through the sky, and his wings caused the surrounding trees to shake. Geralt could feel the wind pressure, and the aura that the beast released caused a shiver to run down his spine.

The witcher grinned darkly. That bastard had an impressive bloodthirst. Geralt's hunter instincts wanted to fight that monster, but his heart worried for his best friend and his potential love interest.

He cursed himself for not taking his small bag with the various vials with potions and bombs, but he had no time to get annoyed because the dragon suddenly dived down, and he had to roll out of the way or else he would have been crushed. 

When he stood up again and turned, he came face to face with the beast's massive head, and his heart skipped a beat. 

Y/N fought against such big monsters? Repeatedly?

His respect for the other man increased significantly. 

Geralt couldn't avoid his legs to tense, but the dragon didn't attack. Instead, its e/c eyes examined him, and the witcher wondered if the monster's pupils acted like a human's because they widened considerably. 

This is a dovah... 

The beast was at least as big as a typical villager house, and Geralt was sure that the spikes on its body would cause massive damage to any attacker. The black scales seemed impenetrable, and the monster slayer seriously questioned his chances of survival. 

He had already felt it before when he had run from the dragon. It wasn't an enemy who he could overpower. If he had to fight, it would be either an overpriced victory or death. But escaping wasn't an option anymore, the dragon's tail had trapped him before the beast.

His grip around his sword tightened, and he was ready to use Quen on himself when the beast shifted and held its head up high. A growl escaped from its throat, and Geralt tensed even more. Unexpectedly, the dragon spoke:

"Dii rii lovaas fah hi. Wo los hi? Hi los ni rok."

The witcher obviously didn't understand, but the voice of the dragon shook him to the core. It was as if someone was screaming in his ear, and he had to press his hands on them. For that, he carelessly let go of his sword, but he felt like his eardrums would explode at any time. 

His chest tingled, and the echo of the dragon's word resounded through his whole body. Geralt's legs gave out, and he fell to his knees. 

The beast lowered its head until its throat almost touched the ground, and then it snorted. 

Hot air blew his hair back, and the Butcher of Blaviken came to his senses again. He needed to get his sword back! Right when he stretched out his hand to take his silver sword, the dragon crept forward until its snout was dangerously close. 

Geralt froze. If the monster decided to eat him now, he would have no time to react. This was the end. 

The realization hit him, and regret washed over him like a seastorm. There were many things in his life that he hadn't resolved yet—many things he wanted to achieve and also many things he wanted to try.

E/c eyes showed up in his mind, and his heart burned. If the dragon ate him now, would they meet in death? 

His eyes flickered to the dragon, and that's when he realized something. 

Although he had no time to elaborate the thought because the dragon moved its head forward until there was merely the distance of a hand between him and the beast. 

He breathed out slowly, and his witcher heart beat faster. He wanted to face his enemy to the last second, but after so many fights, he thought that closing his eyes and embracing death that way seemed more peaceful and freeing. So he closed them and took one last breath. 

I'm sorry, Ciri.

Seconds passed, where he only heard his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Until wind brushed his hair in his face, and he heard a sniff. A rumble shook the earth, and he slowly opened his eyes again. 

The dragon breathed in and sniffed, its eyes closed, and Geralt couldn't believe it when the beast closed the distance, and the scaly snout touched his chest. Black shiny scales only a few centimeters from his face. 

He searched the dragon's eyes, but they were closed. The rumble sounded again, and if he didn't know any better, the witcher would have guessed that the monster was humming.

When it opened its eyes again, and yellow and e/c met, Geralt had an unbelievable thought, and he whispered:

"Y-Y/N?"

The look in the dragon's eyes changed, and it pulled its head back abruptly. 

A growl erupted from the beast's throat, and it only took a matter of seconds for it to tense its muscles and take off the ground. 

Geralt was left in a daze, panic, and realization the only thing he believed to have seen in the dragon's expression. 

Leaves fluttered to the ground, and the deep claw marks in the dirt before him were the only proof for the monster's presence. 

What... What just happened?

The dragon had touched him. He slowly lifted his hand and put it on his chest. It's warm. The dovah had an unexpectedly high body temperature. 

Why did it...? Y/N... Was it really him? H-How...

He remembered something the foreigner had told them. 

His dragon soul was too much for his human body, and he slowly turned into a dovah.

"The dovahkiin..."

Geralt lifted himself off the ground and took off running to the direction the dragon left for.

-

The dragon didn't make it far. 

Geralt saw him soaring through the sky and circling above a clearing in the forest. The witcher could see a small hut standing at the clearing border, and he remembered another thing that Y/N had told him and Jaskier. 

I've been staying here in the forest for a few weeks in a hut half a mile from here.

Geralt slowly realized that his intuition was probably correct.

When he arrived at the clearing, the black dragon had already landed. 

Although it was more like a crash. Long furrows plowed the forest ground. But the Butcher of Blaviken couldn't see the dragon lying there because a strange fog obstructed his view. He was hesitant about approaching the steam, but he really wanted to know if his theory was correct. A voice interrupted his twisting thoughts:

"Bormah, Bormah... Aak dovah!"

It was deep and raspy, and he didn't understand what it said, but Geralt could recognize it instantly. It was him.

Y/N was the dragon.

-

His whole body hurt. 

"Why are you doing this to yourself?" 

Blue eyes watched him with a worried expression. He didn't reply. What was there to say? The dovah needed to die. He was the only one capable of killing them. 

Why couldn't he understand? 

"Think about it, Y/N. You're one of them, so you shouldn-"

"Don't you dare compare me to them! I AM THE DRAGONBORN! Dii Zahkrii kriin Dovah ni aak niin!" 

He knew he went too far as soon as he saw the other's expression. 

Farkas stared at him with slightly widened eyes. 

"Control yourself, Dovahkiin. Or else disaster will fall upon you and the ones you love." 

Arngeir stepped forward and put a shoulder on his lover's shoulder. He could feel how his pupils flickered. Anger welled in his stomach. 

"Don't touch him..." 

His voice was low and threatening. Farkas scoffed, but his face only showed hurt. 

"Don't worry about me, Dragonborn." 

The distance in his words was like a thorn in his heart. The idea that Farkas couldn't understand his thoughts tore his heart in two. Y/N only watched when his significant other walked out of the room, Arngeir following him. 

"Wa-Wait, Farkas, no!"

He reached out his hand to stop him, but the other man was already so far away. 

"Akatosh, Akatosh, help me!"

Tears welled up in his eyes, and a wail escaped his lips. 

Arngeir was right. Disaster fell upon him. 

The skin shedding on his back, his pupils turning to slits, the increased usage of Dovahzul, all were signs for his slow transformation. 

He couldn't believe that the stories Odahviing had told him jokingly were real. His dragon soul was changing his body and personality. 

And now it had happened. He turned into a dragon. 

How many times had he already done that? The witcher mentioned that the monster they were hunting tormented the villagers. 

What had he done?!

The pain he felt after transforming was nothing compared to the pain in his heart. Y/N became the monster he had thought he was slaying when he had eradicated all the dragons from Skyrim.

The scars he had received from all the dovah burned, and shame clung to his heart. 

Why didn't he listen to Arngeir? 

The greybeard was wise and only wanted his best after the dragonborn distanced himself from the Blades. His loved one died because he didn't listen! 

And now he... He turned into an inhumane beast. 

Suddenly he remembered the bard. Did he attack him?! A sinking feeling struck his gut. 

Please, no, no, NO!

What about Geralt? 

Oh Talos... I have to return to the camp!

He tried to open his eyes, but his eyelids were heavy. He groaned. 

What if the two others were bleeding out while he laid here? If the witcher died... Y/N was sure he could never forgive himself. 

Farkas's death was something that he could slowly overcome, although it took him years, and he still hadn't let him go but... If the witcher's death joined, he was sure his shoulders would give in under all the regret.

Just imagining how these beautiful yellow eyes lost their light, he couldn't take it.

He didn't realize it immediately, but his heart was already in the hands of Geralt. He had already lost. 

Y/N finally regained some strength, and he used it to open his eyes. His vision was blurry, but he could see that the sky had already turned dark blue. 

He knew what lurked in the forest at night. 

The thought reminded him again of the witcher. What an irony that it took the white-haired man less than a day to sweep him off his feet. It was the complete opposite with Farkas. Maybe they weren't that similar at all.

He turned on his side and soon realized that his back felt different. The cold wind gave his arms goosebumps, but his back felt perfectly warm. He lifted his arm and cricked it to reach his shoulderblade. When his fingers grazed his back, he sucked in some air. 

That definitely wasn't flesh. That smooth texture... Y/N would recognize it everywhere. He had felt it so many times after all. 

His back was full of scales.

Panic and adrenaline gave him strength, and he sat up, ignoring the pain that bolted through his torso. Only now did he realize that he was completely naked. 

That shocked him less than the fact that only a few meters away stood the Butcher of Blaviken with wide eyes, his sword in his hand ready to attack. 

"Y-You..." Geralt didn’t continue. 

Y/N opened his mouth but didn't say anything as soon as he saw how the other man flinched.

His heart pounded loud in his ears, and he felt light-headed. He breathed in, it sounded strained.

A smile crept on his lips, and he grinned exhausted.

"Thank Talos, you're alive..."

.

The witcher didn't know what to respond. 

He was frozen although he couldn't tell if it was because the person before him was a fire-spitting dragon or because the man was butt naked. Something that usually wouldn't impress him but after realizing that Y/N attracted him... He was conflicted. 

"You... you turned into a dragon," he finally said with a neutral tone. 

The man sitting in the crater nodded slowly. He looked as lost as Geralt felt. 

Did he not know?

"Are you... Are you the dovahkiin?"

Y/N nodded again, and he lowered his head. 

The witcher could see the shame on his face. After receiving this information, he didn't know what to do with it. It should probably agitate him, all the villagers that had their cattle stolen and all the lost prey on hunts, but Geralt felt nothing. The shock was perhaps too deep. 

One is a sorceress, one a dragon. It seems like I fall in love with extraordinary people. Wait...

His eyes found the e/c ones. Did he really...? Y/n watched him with a conflicted expression. 

"Do you want to kill me?"

The question surprised him; he hadn't thought about it. But he opposed it. 

"Should I?" 

His voice had a challenging undertone, but it sounded light, and his heart fluttered a little when the other man smiled weakly. 

Geralt lowered his sword. Y/N didn't feel like a threat; in fact, he looked defeated. 

The h/c haired man leaned back and exposed his torso. The witcher was right. Even his chest was full of scars, and most of them looked like claw marks.  

A strong warrior. 

"I caused you a lot of trouble. If I have to pay for it, I'll gladly do it with my life. It's not worth much anymore." 

These words caused him to frown. The man sounded like he had already given up. Where was his will to fight? 

The imposing aura Geralt had felt when he stood tall as a dragon was gone without a trace. This man was broken. He couldn't imagine what Y/N had gone through, but he wouldn't let a warrior like him die a fool's death.

"It's true. You caused me a lot of trouble..."

The Dragonborn watched him with an apologetic expression. Geralt eyed him from head to toe, his stare burning.

"But instead of paying with your life, why not pay me with something else?" 

Y/N blinked and stared blankly, then he blushed furiously. The witcher’s heart skipped a beat. 

Did Y/N also...?

It excited Geralt that he apparently knew what he was hinting at and reacted this strongly. It meant he had a chance. Then he remembered the ring. Geralt examined the naked man and realized the necklace was gone.

"Your ring..."

Y/N touched his throat. Nothing was there. Geralt expected his face to turn panicked, but only a melancholic expression showed up. 

"It's fine. It's time to move on."

The witcher didn't pry further, but he knew he didn't have to. The smile on Y/N's lips said enough.

"So, how am I supposed to repay you?" 

The man lifted an eyebrow and grinned. He gulped, he didn't expect the man to be this willing. Suddenly he felt bad about his desires. 

"Toss me a coin."

The warrior from Keizaal tilted his head and puckered his lips. Then he smiled, and his e/c eyes turned into crescents. They looked happy. But most importantly, human.

Warmth spread in his chest. 

He had a thought that his future would be a lot more interesting with the dovahkiin by his side and Jaskier.

Wait...

Both of them opened their mouth and shouted: 

“Jaskier!”

_______

Endnote: Congrats! You made it! Like I said at the beginning, this fic is based on a headcanon of mine. Where the dragonborn slowly turns into a dragon because of his dragon soul. The dovahkiin is able to live a lot longer than any other human due to his dragon nature and it’s taking a toll on him. The scales are something I had imagined from the start. This is a drawing of my dragonborn which I used as inspiration for this fic:

I wanted the story to end in a rather light tone which some might not find appropriate but I honestly got a little exhausted. I wrote this as a oneshot of 12k words, which was definitely too much xD Writing so much is new to me. But I’m proud that I made it this far :)

I wanted Yennefer to play a part here but more like the one of a former lover. She was also a tool to give Geralt a reason why he likes Y/N since he’s officially straight in canon.

I already decided to create a fic where Geralt gets taken to Skyrim but I haven’t decided if it’s going to be a sequel to this yet. We’ll see I guess.

Some sentences that were spoken in Dovahzul were purposely not translated because it was either from Geralt’s sight or it was to show that the dragonborn was slowly changing. But they meant the following:

Dii rii lovaas fah hi. Wo los hi? Hi los ni rok = My soul sings for you. Who are you? You are not him (as in Farkas).

Dii Zahkrii kriin Dovah ni aak niin = My Sword slays dragons not help them

Thank you for reading and being patient with me :D 

[guigz1-coldwar]

'The Russianwoman' : an sequel to Yirina Grigoriev's story

2017

More than 30 years has passed since Yirina Grigoriev-Park finishied her fight against the Perseus Collective and her goals...finally fullfilled.

Her fight was done, Perseus was no more and she could finally let an life like she wanted to be. She was now married to the love of her life, Helen A. Park-Grigoriev and the two had created an family : an daughter named Katie born by Yirina and an son, by Park named Elijah, an tribute to her brother.

The old days was finished, they were done with the MI6 but when an tragic event caused by the IRA hit an member of her family, Yirina has no choices but to do the only thing she could do.....

This fiction is inspired by the 2017 movie 'The Foreigner' with Jackie Chan & Pierce Brosnan with now my OC Bell and COD characters in it ! It's one of my ideas about an sequel with my OC Bell but there's could be other in case !

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Like every Friday, I was the one who has to get Katy from the university in London she was working : she was studying international relations like Helen did in the past even if we both wanted her to go to Oxford but she preferred to stay here in London. She's my daughter and I'm so proud of her. Elijah wasn't at home for the month, he's been travelling around the US along with some friends but also Zasha & Portnova's daughter. Right now, it was just me, Helen and Katie at home.

Of course, I had to prepare myself to go outside so I got up from the couch where I was watching TV as Helen was writing at her desk, she said that she wanted to be an writer, tell of her life inside the MI6 and I agreed to that, thinking that it was best for her to write. I couldn't refuse that, she's my wife and she's always thinking positively. I'm happy to be with an woman like that to be honest. We've been married since an long time...long before homosexual marriage was officialy legalized in the UK.

As I was putting my brown jacket on while looking myself through the mirror, I was wondering how much I didn't really change in years, my scar at the side of my head was now no longer visible hidden by my redhead hair along with some grey ones. I can say that getting older doesn't mean that we all change. I'm 65 years old and I'm still looking good for my age.

"You're going to get Katie ?" I was surprised in the inside when I saw Helen arriving in the entrance of the house after finishing to put my jacket on, she was looking lovely with her glasses and her hair too, still not even changed in an lot of times.

"Yeah, I received her message on my phone." I replied, taking out the phone I was using from my pocket, checking back the message Katie sent me. "Finished my day of study, ready to spend time in family." I repeated the message to Helen as she was coming next to me to look at my phone.

"Always our little Katie." Helen said proudly, her eyes focused on one of the pictures that was standing on an drawer : me, holding Katie on my lap at her 5 year old birthday with Helen next to me, Katie blowing some candies on her cake, Zasha was the one who took the picture. "Time is passing so fast." She stated, an little laugh out of her mouth.

"She's our girl, Helen." I told her, putting my arms on her shoulders, getting us close. "I'm telling this maybe each year but I'm so freaking happy." I added before pulling her for an kiss on her lips, an slow and passionated kiss to her.

"I know but each time, it make me smile." She confirmed after we broke the kiss, her arms around my waist. "Since the first moment I met you, you never change at all."  She continued, moving her left hand on my cheek, an grin on her face.

"The first time we met ?" I breathed, trying to laugh about it. "It was an long time and that's the past." I affirmed to her with an smile. "We've been through an lot and our old lives...it's over for good." I exclaimed, sure of my words. It's been years now that we decided to stop working with the MI6 after years of services and it was better for us and about me....it was the past, things I want to forget and things I can't really forget. "Now, my family is my life."

"You will always have us...family." Helen smiled at me, her left hand removing some hair that was in front of my eye. "About family, I got an text message from Elijah."

"Oh yeah ?" I whispered, happy to hear about it as Helen got out of her pocket her own phone to make me look at the message.

"Greetings from Chicago, next step : an road trip on Road 66." She repeated the message as an picture of our Elijah and his right arm behind Clara, Zasha's daughter.

"They're doing the same thing like we did in 1989 & others years too." I expressed, thinking about the numerous trips we did with Helen. "You advised him, right ?" I demanded to Helen and she nodded to me with an smile.

"I told him that it was an experience to try and looks like he will do it with Clara." Helen replied fully to me, putting her phone back in her jeans pocket before looking back at me. "Seems that Elijah & Clara are getting along well." She added, referring to the picture we saw, it's true that the two are close since they met up in kindergarten.

"It's good for them, you know that Zed is approving in case the two are in relationship." I exclaimed, releasing an little laugh from my mouth.

"And what about Katie ?" Helen questioned me. "She said that she's going to the prom with an friend." She added.

"Yeah, once I got her from the university, I'm taking her to buy an dress." I responded, moving to grab my car keys, me & Helen got two car in case and it was better. "And once we got her dress, we're coming back here and we spent some family time." I continued, enthusiatic.

"Tomorrow, we will be going to dinner with Zasha & Portnova at their place." She recalled me of that as it's been some times we didn't planned an dinner like that.

"Yes, I will bring Katie to her prom before we can go to their place, Katie said that she will sleep at her friend's place." I spoke up, thinking of what dress Katie would take in that shop I'm thinking about. "Don't worry, I'm sure it will be fine." I reassured Helen about letting Katie with her friend, I didn't see them together too much but I know it will be good. "And you know Katie..."

"Yeah, she know well of how to defend herself in case." Helen said, having learned Katie & Elijah to defend themselves from attackers in case, our old lifes did helped for that.

"Anyway, I'll be on my way, I don't want Katie to wait too long." I passed my hand through my face to remove any hair from it, looking myself back on the mirror. "You text me in case." I demanded to Helen who basically nodded.

"I'll say what we will eat tonight, stay safe, love." She reconforted me, making an little kiss on my cheek before she decided to return to her office to work on her writing, leaving me alone in the entrance.

I didn't lose any time, getting out of the house we've been living for years, waving to some of the neighbors that was peacefully watering their gardens as I was going to get into my own car, an green Ford Mondeo I used since an long time but I'm planning to actually give it to Katie when she will have her driver license. From time to time, she's learning with me to drive the car in an place where we could do it without been disturbed.

Getting inside the car was usual for me and of course, I had to learn well to drive on the left side of the road because of the british way to drive but over the years, I got myself used to this and it was okay. I started the engine and drove off the house, driving to get to the University of London where she was working. Portnova was still working at this place but partially as she was also able to work at Oxford alterning each week and right now, she was still at Oxford.

As I arrived at free parking place just in front of the University of London, it was the perfect time as everyone was getting out of it, me trying to find with my eyes where was Katie until I found her, getting out from the front door with her friend : an light brow hair girl. I stayed in my car, awaiting for Katie to get in when I saw the two kissing each other for an brief instant before they broke the kiss as Katie walked to my car, opening the right front passenger seat.

"Hi mom !" She started, sounding very happy as she got inside the car.

"Hey Katie." I breathed, also like her, seeing her with proud on my face. "Didn't know that your friend was your girlfriend." I exclaimed, surprised of witnessing that kiss from Katie to her friend.

"Yes, it's true that I didn't talk about this." She whispered, putting her backpack on the backseats behind her. "She's my girlfriend...since some weeks now." She got out her own phone to show me an picture of her friend, the two in each other's hands in the London's Eye. "Her name is Jess." She explained to me.

"Oh, Jess ? That's nice." I expressed my happiness about it, that name was familiar inside of me but it was my past. "I'm proud of you, Katie....Mommy Helen too." I added, knowing that it was all true, we both proud of her choices.

"Thanks mom." She whispered, putting her seatbelt on.

"Ready to get her dress ?" I asked with an smile and she nodded. "Well, here we go." I then started the car's engine and driving away from the University to go to the shop that was in another part of the city and along the way, I wanted to talk instead of listening to the radio. "So, Jess is like your prom date ?" I started after an minute of driving.

"Of course Mom." She replied, fainting to be annoyed to my 'stupid' question I just asked. "I ain't going to take an guy to the prom if Jess is my girlfriend." She added, keeping the same tone as before.

"Yeah, that's reasonable to say." I stated, making an little laugh before peaking my head to look at Katie, on her phone while we were at an redlight. "How's studies by the way ?" I asked her.

"Oh, it's fine, I can thanks mommy Helen for helping me." She replied, sounding relieved as her studies was almost complicated.

"You got lucky that she studied that in her life." I exclaimed, smirking about thinking of it. "Me, I was more into cryptography." I continued but it was something that Katie already know but only an little. "The world is getting more advanced each day." I claimed, seeing the new technologies arriving, it was looking more easy before 2000.

"At least, you know how to use an phone." Katie scoffed, laughing an little about it as using smartphones was complicated for me at the start. "But you still have to learn how to play video games." She joked around about my weak skills in that domain.

"You will have to make me learn more then, like I'm doing with your driving license." I affirmed to her, making an fake serious look to her for an second before getting my eyes back on the road, soon arriving at destination. "Must be here for that." I stated, seeing the shop from afar before I stopped the car near an parking place that was going to get free.

"I'm going now." Katie said, starting to open her door before I stop her.

"Wait, let me park first." I protested, putting my hand gently on her.

"Don't worry and it's already full, you can join me." She expressed, making an little kiss on my cheek before going out of the car, passing next to an guy that was retrieving something on the ground near an bike to get to the shop called 'Stitch & Rose'...could used an better name but I can't say an thing about it. I smiled as I saw her walking away before getting my senses to park the car at the parking place that was now free but as I was soon fully parked, another car in front of me got the same idea and unfortunately, we bumped into each other.

"Damnit !" I heard the man shouting from my position with me still an bit disturbed to have dumped into someone but it wasn't my fault. I then slowly start to get out to meet the angry driver.

"I was going to park here !" I exclaimed loudly, showing to him the now lightly damaged part of my car.

"Hey, you wanker, you should...." The man was sounding more angry until suddenly, an explosion coming from across the street cut him straight in his words.

The explosion was so strong that it send me fly over my own car, receiving some glass on my face before falling back into the ground on the sidewalk and what I could hear right now was the cries of people around me, hearing the pleads and me...trying to find out what just happened right now, it's....what's the hell just happened ? I was trembling when I got up back on my feets, looking shell shocked and my hands....trembling furiously, my face...filled with glasses.

I started to move slowly to get back at my former position where I could see that the angry driver was against his car....dead, blood all over his face and me still standing. I looked around the other side of the street, seeing an car rolled over and the shop, partially destroyed with dead people around it.

"Katie !" I whispered, realizing that she was inside that shop and fear took over me, starting to walk towards the shop. "Katie !" My voice was getting louder as I was approaching the shop, wanting to know where she was until I entered it, only hearing nothing. "Katie !" I screamed loudly inside the shop, trying to find her but then....I saw her...on the ground, next to the destroyed window, not moving at all. "Katie !" I quickly moved to grab her in my arms and to get outside. "Please, Katie, please." I whispered as I got myself on the ground, trying to see if she was still alive.

"Mommy..." I could hear her voice, sounding very low but...her whole body went limp in my arms.

"No, no, no, no." I breathed heavily as I could feel her body going limp....it was too late....my girl...."NO, KATIE !" I screamed loudly, realizing that my daughter...was dead. "Katie !" I said, feeling all the tears in my eyes until I started to cry for good, holding Katie's body in my arms, not wanting to release her.....

"Katie..."

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"An bomb was blowed up today in the Southwark district..."

"At least dozens of wounded and dozens of killed people were reported...."

"An group called themself the 'Authentic IRA' has claimed responsability for the bombing that happened today..."

"Is this group really part of the IRA or just some fakers ?"

"This act isn't going to stay unpunished, we will find those peoples and then....."

"Some people is trying to forget the past but it's always coming back !"

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Here's the prologue of 'The Russianwoman'. The story will not be updated until Yirina's current story (Redemption of an Spirit in an Cold War) is at its nearly end !

[sasuhinasno1fan]

Crushing on the rival-Lukadrien June Day 3

Ok, yes I’m technically late, but I don’t care! I wanted to do a Glee AU so bad and this was so hard to do. Usually when reading Glee Klaine fics as lukadrien, Nino is at Dalton since either Nick or Jeff becomes Kurt’s best friend and you can’t split up Nino and Adrien. So Nino attended for a while before budget cuts messed up his scholarship. Kieran is from @depressed-teacup-inc and @sarcasticsparkles Divergence. I meant for him to featured just a little more but it just didn’t work out like that. Adrien’s mom is alive but is spliting up with his dad and I put Chloe in Rachel’s position when it came to dating the enemy first since it always comes up in Anderberry fics when Rachel doesn’t say who Blaine is because she doesn’t want to be accused of selling secrets to her brother. Anyway, please enjoy and we’ll see if day 4 actually comes out. Rival Musicians 

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Nino said, adjusting his white tie. He’d forgotten how much he hadn’t been a fan of the Quantic Academy uniform. The pale blue shirts with the black blazers and white ties weren’t his aesthetic and even though it sucked to lose his scholarship, he’d been beyond happy to never put the uniform on again. He looked over to Marc and Nath, who seemed to pull it off with ease.

Totally unfair.

“I can’t believe you let Alya and Marinette bully you into coming to spy.” Nath said.

“No you’re not.” Marc clarified. “Remember how we got together?”

“Yeah, no. this fits perfectly. We should just be glad Chloe wasn’t the one to find out you used to go to school with our competitor. That would have been worse.”

“Yeah, especially since we all experienced her dating the ‘enemy’ last year. Last thing I need is her accusing me of giving secrets away. I really don’t want to bring up her asshole ex in her face. She’s finally starting to open up again.” Nino said.

“Where’s Adrien?” Marc asked, changing the subject. “You made it sound like we have a small window.”

“We do. Assuming things haven’t changed in a year, teachers take the afternoon to have a meeting while letting the students study and such. Or in the Warbler’s case, have impromptu performances to test songs out. If we don’t want to get caught, we need to be there when the mass text goes out and everyone is heading to the Senior Commons.”

Just then, a very familiar silver car pulled up in front of the boys. Adrien climbed out, in a black leather jacket and a white rocker tie but still in the same colours.

“Sorry I’m late. Mom promised the appointment would be over before I had to leave, but divorce proceedings involving my dad aren’t exactly easy. They were arguing over my ‘modelling’ career for a full hour before my mom’s lawyer managed to shut my dad up. I think, that woman speaks like a pirate and is just as ruthless and doesn’t like my dad, so she could have been insulting him for all I know.”

“Sorry you have to deal with this.” Nino said, patting his best friend on his shoulder.

“You haven’t modelled for almost 3 years. Your ‘career’ is just your dad reusing old photos of you for campaigns.” Nath said. “We can only hope we don’t have another instance like when it was your first day at school and you ran into the glee room to hide from your fans.”

“But, hey! We got you out of it.” Nino said. “You stick out like a sore thumb though.”

“It’s not my fault. You said you had enough extra uniforms. You’re the one who didn’t include yourself in the count. Let’s just be happy I have enough clothes to make an iteration of it.” Adrien said.

“Fair enough. Come on.”

All four of them walked into the main building. It was beautiful, a mix of old architecture and new, like a classic hotel or something along the lines. They slowed when Nino did as they approached the front desk, which was thankfully empty with a note to call when arrived.

“I’m so happy the headmaster uses the front desk secretary as his own. I mean, she gives as good as she gets and doesn’t take shit, but she’s also got a practical eidetic memory.” Nino said. “Ok, now there’s a student that we called the Caterpillar – he lived in my dorm and everyone had Alice in Wonderland names – who has access to everyone’s phone number and he’s in the Warblers, so he sends out a massive text message to everyone.”

“How are we even sure they’re planning on doing a performance?” Adrien asked.

“We don’t but I know so close to competition time Marin would want to practise when they have the chance, so at the very least we can peak into the Senior Commons were they practise.”

They got to the first hallway and Adrien saw that what he thought ground level was actually the first floor.

“Cafeteria is downstairs and exits for the gardens and the library. This floor holds some classrooms and common rooms, more classrooms and offices upstairs. The Senior Commons is actually down the hall and downstairs. They got first pick when the place was being built and it has the closest exit to where the dorms are.”

“Should we hang near there or somewhere else?” Nath asked.

However, before Nino could offer a suggestion, the one thing Adrien dreaded pierced through the empty and quite hallway.

“Ohmygod! It’s Adrien Agreste!”

Adrien liked anime, especially the feel-good ones. The one he liked the most was Gakuen Babysitter. The scene before him reminded him of when the twins’ father, a famous actor came to school and was found out by one of the students and suddenly the area around him were swarming with fans. What happened was a bit like that, except screaming boys instead of girls and Adrien actually got a head start in running away.

Nino hated his best friend had to suffer through this, so when he was separated from him and the rest of the guys and only found Marc and Nath not long after, he felt worried.

“Where’s Adrien?”

“We thought he was with you.”

“Ok, screw Marinette and Alya telling us not to get caught.” Nino said, pulling his phone out and scrolling through his contacts until he reached one with the name being just a butterfly emoji. “If they want info, they can come look themselves. My best friend is in a school that’s not desensitized to him being around and we’re find him before we leave.”

Of course, before he could call, he saw a text from the same butterfly named person.

I’m gonna let Marin yell at you for coming to spy.

Nino cursed. He’d been hoping to avoid that. Marinette and Alya were bad and Chloe worse, but Marin lording over him with his gavel, that was something he didn’t miss from attending school here.

But don’t worry. A certain blue haired Hatter was placed in the little Alice’s path. He’ll take care of him. Also, I know a certain March Hare misses you too.

Ok, maybe he’d have to kiss that Caterpillar after all.

                                       ____________________

Adrien slowly opened the door after finally hearing the hallway fill up and all move in one direction. Everyone was speaking excitedly, so no one noticed Adrien slipping out and joining the crowd. He looked around, hoping to see 3 familiar faces but no luck. he didn’t even know if this crowd was people going to see the Warblers. He bit his lip, trying to decide what to do. He could ask and then be in a bad spot if someone recognised him or he could ask what was going on and duck into a bathroom if it wasn’t Warblers related. He decided to risk it.

“Excuse me,” he said, tapping someone on the shoulder. The guy had dyed blue hair and when he turned around Adrien saw he had the piercings to match his punk look. The uniform really didn’t match him at all. “Hi, I’m new here. What’s going on?”

He gave Adrien this smirk as if to say, ‘I know why you’re here’. “I’m Luka.”

“Adrien, nice to meet you.”

“Adrien. Well, don’t worry, I won’t scream your name. and to answer your question, the Warblers are doing an impromptu performance.”

“Oh.”

“If you want, I can take you there. You know, bump into your friends who came to spy with you.”

“S-spy? I didn’t come to spy.”

“Right, so your lack of uniform and Nino being here is a happy coincidence.”

Adrien couldn’t really think of a lie, so thrown off. He let out a squeak when Luka grabbed his hand and pulled him down the hallway. This one was emptier and Adrien took a closer at Luka. his uniform was perfect but his shoes were emblem covered high tops. His nails were painted and fingers home to a few rings. He also noticed a few bracelets peaking out from under shirt sleeve. Luka seemed like such an anomaly in his perfect uniform but things that spoke to his personal aesthetic.

Before he knew it, they were back in a crowd as they entered a room, no doubt the Senior Commons.

“Shot, I do stick out like a sore thumb.” Adrien said, once he saw himself compared to everyone.

“I don’t know, I like your version better.” Luka said, tugging at one of the lapels of Adrien’s leather jacket. “Your friends are over there.” He nodded towards the door, where Marc, Nath and Nino were, all standing on their toes trying to look over the crowd. Nino got distracted by someone with light brown hair and purple rain boots, but Marc and Nath spotted him.

“How did…?”

“I’m sure Nino will tell you about the special ways of the Warblers.” Just at the front of the room, 2 lines of boys appeared as they started to create a beat. “Now if you excuse me. Kieran!”

The guy Nino had been talking to darted over to the lines and Adrien took his place, hearing his friends ask him what happened and if he was ok, but his attention was focused on Luka, who stood in the very front singing.

Before you met me, I was alright But things were kinda heavy, you brought me to life Now every February, you'll be my Valentine Valentine

Let's go all the way tonight No regrets, just love We can dance until we die You and I will be young forever You make me feel like I'm living a teenage dream

He was good, really good. And he kept staring right at Adrien.

“That’s Luka. we were roommates when I was here.” Nino said, finally getting his attention. “He was well on his way to being lead vocalist when I left.”

“He’s really good.”

“Yeah. Don’t let his accessories fool you, he’s a cool guy.”

Yeah, he was.

When the song was over and the room burst into loud applause, cheers and whistles, Luka found his way over, with the same guy who’d been talking to Nino before and two new people. They reminded him a bit of Marinette and Alya, though one of them had a sever expression currently directed at Nino.

“You come spy and you don’t even come to say hello? I’m ashamed of you Nino.” The one who reminded Adrien of Marinette said.

“Please give it a rest Marin.” Nino begged.

“No, no, let him suffer more. I’m enjoying this.” Kieran said.

“Just to check, you’re not going to report us, right?” Marc asked, looking nervous.

“Don’t worry. Your attempts are endearing and we know Nino wouldn’t bring you over here without good reason.” The other guy said. “we’re not planning on using that song for the Sectionals, so you won’t go home empty handed.”

“How about coffee? Nino doesn’t know this, but we finally opened the coffee bar in the cafeteria, student run. We can stay here if you want.” Luka offered.

In the end, Adrien waited in the room, with Nino getting dragged to be lectured by his old friends and Nath and Marc having such complicated orders, it just made more sense to go with them. Adrien looked around the commons, taking in the couches and many side tables. A few had an almost permanent show print in them, like they’d been jumped on. The few people inside the room still paid his no attention, other than glancing at him.

“Here you go.” Luka said, handing him a to go cup. “Nino mentioned you didn’t like coffee so I got you hot chocolate. Better than most cafes, we make our own with milk.”

“Thanks. Where are the others?”

“Kieran is still making Marin lecture Nino and it turns out Alan is a fan of your friends’ comic, so just me for now.”

“That’s fine. Maybe you can tell me why the tables have footprints on them.” Adrien said, tugging his jacket off as Luka plopped down next to him.

“I have a habit of jumping around on tables during practise. Marin yells at me for it, but I can’t help it. Which is surprising, since I’m pretty stationary during performances.”

Adrien let out a little laugh. “You sound like my cat. Doesn’t matter how many cat perches we have for him; he just climbs up anywhere else. Granted, focusing on him and glee has been a godsend for my mental health recently.”

“Yeah, I’m sure dealing with arguing parents and divorce isn’t easy.”

Adrien looked over at Luka, confused as to how he knew that.

“Oh, yeah. My mom is your mom’s lawyer.” Adrien raised an eyebrow not believing him. “She sounds like this.” Luka said in the same thick accent Anarka had.

“Holy, hey wait. Juleka is Anarka’s daughter, which means she’s…”

“My sister. Competing against each other, but don’t worry. Music is sacred in our house so we don’t play dirty.”

“Whoa.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t go fishing for anything. I just thought that things must be pretty difficult. Your dad makes mom pretty upset.”

“Yeah. It hasn’t been easy. The whole divorce hasn’t but this modelling thing is making things worse. Honestly, I’d be happy with glee drama. It’s the only thing that feels like it makes sense.”

“I get that. I’m older than Juleka, but I’ll be graduating at the same time as her because I ended up pulling out of school for a while. During all that, music was the only thing that made sense.”

“Was everything ok?” Adrien asked.

“Come here.” Luka led Adrien over to a piano that sat in the corner. “Take a breath and listen.” He ordered, resting his fingers on the keys. He watched Adrien do as he was told and he let his fingers move across the keys.

Adrien stared as he heard the emotions he’d been feeling were played. Every note and beat was everything.

“I’ve never been good at words. Mom struggled to get me to talk but she knew I liked music, so that started to become my voice. I guess the easiest way to explain it is I’m an empath. I can hear emotions and I tend to stay quiet. Some people at my old school didn’t like that I kept quite or I could play what they felt. Add on the muscle heads who didn’t understand that liking guys didn’t mean I liked them, things got insane. So I left and came here.” Luka ended Adrien’s song and sat on the bench to look at the blonde. “Even though music sort of got me into that mess, I get it being the only thing that feels like it makes sense.”

Adrien sat next to Luka. “And now you have glee. I was running from fans when I ran into our glee room. Mlle Bustier was ok with letting me hide there but when I saw how much fun everyone was having singing, I wanted to do the same. It’s been my escape.”

Luka bumped his elbow into Adrien’s side. “And people think models aren’t anything like us.”

“I’m really sorry you had to deal with that stuff, but I guess if you hadn’t, you wouldn’t have met Nino and he wouldn’t have taken us here and we wouldn’t get to meet.”

“Guess there’s a silver lining for everything. It’s a shame we’re going up against each other in Sectionals. Hanging out with you would be fun.”

“Well,” Adrien said, shrugging, “No one said we can’t text.”

“I thought one of your team members dated a guy from an opposing team?”

“Who said anything about dating? We’re just texting. I mean, Nino texts you and the others, right? What makes me so different?”

Luka let out a laugh. “Fair enough. Adrien Agreste, rebel. I think you’ve been around my mom too much; she’s starting to take an effect on you.”

“You say that as if being a rebel is a bad thing.”

                                          ______________________

Well Adrien wasn’t a rebel, but he did enjoy talking to Luka. he was easy to talk to and they had a lot in common. When employing the same rules Juleka and Luka had on their houseboat when it came to glee, it was easy to forget he was competing against him. Nino encouraged it when he found out.

“Besides, if you end up liking Lu and asking him out, then I can ask Kieran out. Maybe. I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”

It wasn’t hard to like Luka. he was good looking and funny and nice and his singing voice was amazing. But Adrien also knew dating during competition season was asking for another Chloe situation even if Luka would never do what that asshole ex did. So, Adrien made a deal with himself, he’d ask Luka out after Sectionals. One of them would win and then they wouldn’t compete anymore unless a space opened up. It would be fine.

I used to rule the world Seas would rise when I gave the word Now in the morning I sleep alone Sweep the streets I used to own

I used to roll the dice Feel the fear in my enemy's eyes Listen as the crowd would sing "Now the old king is dead! Long live the king!"

One minute I held the key Next the walls were closed on me And I discovered that my castles stand Upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand

And of course listening to Luka sing Viva la Vida made Marc lean over to him and tell him if he didn’t ask him out, he would.

But like the world was against him, both the most amazing and worst thing happened. They tied. Chole had said how rare that happened. Adrien could only think about how he felt cheated out of asking Luka out. Which was why he waited in the bathroom, waiting for Luka to come in.

“Hi.” Luka said when he came in. he looked a bit disheartened and Adrien really hoped he was reading the reason right.

“Hey. Congratulations by the way. Your Viva la Vida was amazing. Chloe thought so too and she doesn’t compliment the competition much.”

“Thanks. I know you said you were a countertenor but I never expected you to hold that note in So much better.”

“Thanks. Um, listen. I really hope I haven’t been reading the signs wrong, but…I like you, enough to tell myself that after Sectionals were over, no matter what happened, I’d ask you out. But I wasn’t expecting us to both win. But that hasn’t exactly discouraged me.”

“You haven’t been reading them wrong. It was my plan too but it would really be a bad idea to date. The stakes are even higher now. Though…God, Marin might kill me for suggesting this, but how about one date? One date to get it out of our system and to also give us something to look forward to after Regionals. There isn’t a chance we’ll tie again so it’ll be fine after then, but I don’t think either of us can wait that long.”

The door to the bathroom opened and Nino poked his head in. “Adrien, bro. the bus is here, time to go.”

“Yes.” He said to Luka as he headed to the door. “I’ll text you.”

As Nino dragged him to the bus before the group got angry, Adrien told him what he and Luka planned on doing.

“As your teammate, this is a horrible idea. As your best friend, this is the best idea ever and I demand details after.”

[randomfandomimagine]

I Still Love You (Jaskier x Reader)

Characters: Jaskier, Geralt

Fandom: The Witcher

Tags: Angst, songfic

Warnings: Mentions of blood and injury

Word Count: 3k words

Requested by @caritobbg: Hello! Could you write a ficlet with Jaskier and a Fem!Reader where they are with Geralt in a tavern and, as she saw Jaskier flirt with other women, she was encouraged to sing a song that she would have written (it occurred to me Love of My Life by Queen) and then she runs from there to the woods when she finishes singing it and is attacked by a werewolf. Jaskier goes off to look for her alongside Geralt who was also concerned and had given his friend reasons to realize how she felt about him?❤️

A/N: This is angsty and bittersweet but I quite like how it turned out, hope you like it! 

Jaskier x Female Reader

_

Everything about him seemed absolutely flawless. You were so madly in love with Jaskier that you found even his flaws endearing. For this very reason, you couldn’t help staring at him and admiring his handsome face, and the way his soft brown hair fell over his piercing and beautiful ocean blue eyes, which fondly stared at you.

He seemed to have noticed you were quite absent, because he chuckled and tilted his head at you in an adorable way.

“What’s the matter, Y/N?” Jaskier asked you, gently nudging you and accompanying the gesture with a bright grin. “Are you tired, love?”

“A bit” You admitted, still lovingly staring at him. “Although it’s nothing that your company can’t fix”

“You’re such a flatterer” He fondly wrinkled his nose, leaning in to tap his finger against your nose. “As if your lovely company isn’t a blessing”

You stared at each other in silence for a moment. Seeing his bright grin stirred something within you, reminding you how beautiful it was and how smitten you were.

“If you don’t mind…” You started, trying to confess what had been eating you inside for such a long time. “I wanted to tell you something, Jaskier”

“I’m all ears, love” He absently leaned his shoulder against the wall, crossing his arms and intently listening to you. “What is it?”

“You may know already…” Although you nervously chuckled, you truly hoped he had noticed something. As perceptive as Jaskier could be, he seemed completely oblivious to the nature of your affections. “But the truth is I see you a certain way”

“Uh-huh… go on” He nodded his head, even if his eyes were now focused on something that seemed more interesting to him than you. “Sure, right…”

“I have stopped talking” You told him, even if you knew he wasn’t listening at all.

“You’re absolutely right, Y/N” Jaskier continued to nod his head as though he was catching every word you said, which he clearly wasn’t. “But if you’ll excuse me, I have some business to tend to”

Like moved by an invisible force, the bard quickly scurried off to the other end of the tavern. The murmur that surrounded you filled your quietness, though it was not enough to fill the true void of the silence.

Jaskier had found an attractive blond woman who he started enthusiastically talking to. The mere sight was too painful to stand and so you turned your head away.

He seemed to find her to be better company despite the fact that he had never seen her before. Somehow, she was more enticing than you even if you and Jaskier had known each other for so long now, even if you had traveled together and endured countless hardships with each other.

Your eyes suddenly stung with unshed tears. In an attempt to distract from that woe, you searched Geralt with your gaze. Soon you spotted him sitting at the table still, enjoying his solitude in peace as he calmly drank is ale. For the first time since you started traveling together, you understood why he isolated himself in such a way. It was the only way to avoid getting hurt.

With a will of their own, your eyes searched Jaskier once more. He was dedicating her that smile, the one he usually saved only for you. Or so you thought. You could have sworn you felt how your heart broke, as though it was made out of glass and it shattered into a million pieces, causing the shards to consume you from the inside. At the same time, however, a burning anger erupted inside you. Did he not see how much it hurt you? Did Jaskier not realize how deeply in love you were? Or did he just decide to ignore it and continue courting other women? Whatever the case, you were tired. Tired of waiting for him, of holding on to hope that he might reciprocate someday, that he could love you back.

Forgetting about the pain and trying to hold on to that anger, you walked directly towards him. Not paying mind to the woman he was so bluntly flirting with, you shoved him a little.

“Oi!” He complained, watching you up and down in a mixture between confusion and outrage. “What’s the matter with you, Y/N?”

“I’ll tell you in a way you can finally get it through your thick skull, bard” Even if you were still angry, your voice only held all that pain that you felt inside.

Jaskier frowned sadly, frozen in place even as you took the lute hanging from his back and claimed it as your own. You felt his eyes follow you as you adamantly stood on a table and began strumming the chords, gathering the attention from everyone at the tavern. Geralt’s golden eyes fell on you as well, and you paused as you exchanged a glance with him. Recognizing the resignation and empathy in his eyes, you continued on. Ready to finally pour your heart out to Jaskier, or at least what was left of it.

That song had been hidden for too long, locked in your heart and in your mind. You were never brave enough to bring it out into the world, especially not when the bearer of your affections was unbeknownst to it all. It had been a difficult decision, but you had chosen his definite friendship over a possible romance, but you couldn’t handle the consequences any longer. That romance would never exist. It was but a mirage, an impossible daydream.

Moved by the sorrow that made your chest hurt, you began singing the ballad you had composed, that one which so perfectly explained your feelings as he hadn’t been able to recognize them on his own.

Love of my life, you've hurt me You've broken my heart, and now you leave me

When your eyes met with Jaskier’s, a lump formed in your throat. His saddened frown had only deepened as he intently listened to your every sung word. His face, however, blurred as the tears inevitably arrived to your eyes. In spite of it all, you pushed through and carried on.

Love of my life, can't you see? Bring it back, bring it back, don't take it away from me Because you don't know what it means to me Love of my life, don't leave me You've taken my love, and now desert me

It all suddenly became too much. The song was interrupted by your strong sobs and you felt unable to continue. The world became a place too hard for such a hurt girl like you. Shaking your head, you jumped down the table and returned by his side. Your bottom lip trembled as you reached him, and yet you still tried to lift your chin up in pride.

For once, Jaskier was rendered speechless. He observed you in silence, and the distress in his beautiful lively blue eyes somehow was yet another blow to your bleeding heart.

“You’ve broken my heart” You repeated as though the song hadn’t ended, angrily pushing the lute against his chest and facing your back to him.

“Y/N… did you write that?” He finally asked once you did. When he realized you weren’t turning back to him, a sudden urgency arrived to his voice. “Wait, h-hang on!”

His heart wildly raced, bringing a dull ache to his chest with every beat. Jaskier felt guilty and stupid, having been too frivolous to truly understand. You had been trying to tell him something important, and he only got distracted by a pretty face. As if you weren’t beautiful and right in front of him all along.

He blindly followed after you, yet a strong had pushed against his chest to keep him in place. Jaskier tried to pass the witcher by, but Geralt was adamant on intercepting his friend.

“Leave her”

“N-No! She’s upset and-“

“She doesn’t want to talk to you right now, Jaskier”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you really that fucking stupid?”

“What?”

“You really didn’t realize her feelings?”

“Well, now I do… She was trying to tell me but-“

“She’s been trying to tell you ever since she joined us”

“Come now, Geralt… If I were to truly believe every woman I talk to is enamored with me…”

“Yes, but that one really loved you. And she just walked away”

Jaskier froze in place, quitting his attempts to go over the witcher’s block. He gulped, realizing the implications of what Geralt was saying. It made your behavior all the more understandable while at the same time all the more heartbreaking. And it was all his fault.

“Jask… you stupid, stupid man…” He chastised himself under his breath before looking back up to his friend. “We should go after her, should we not?”

Geralt’s expression suddenly shifted, from utterly annoyed to alert. The bard had seen that expression many times, and a nasty feeling arrived to the pit of his stomach.

“W-What?” He uttered in fright. “What is it?”

“The woods” Geralt clenched his jaw as he retrieved both his swords. “It’s filled with werewolves”

“Shit” Before the witcher could say anything else, Jaskier began running.

He ran outside of the tavern, leaving behind his long forgotten female companion. He ran like he had never run in his life, completely ignoring the way his heart hammered against his ribcage or the feeling of not having enough oxygen in his lungs to breathe. Jaskier run as though the most important person in his life was in danger, because she was.

Perhaps he had been too blind or too stupid to realize you were the person he cared for most, but you were. Perhaps he had been completely oblivious to the feelings you harbored for him, but you did nonetheless. And it was his reckless behavior that gave you such spite, caused by him, that threw you to venture into the lion’s den.

As he ran breathlessly, not caring to wait for Geralt, Jaskier realized… he would never forgive himself if something happened to his dear Y/N. _

By the time they arrived into the woods, it was nighttime. The pair had looked for you in many other places, being sure to check quickly in case the worst case scenario was the reality: you had ventured into the dangerous woods on your own, feeling sad and miserable and being more vulnerable to an attack.

Jaskier couldn’t breathe, he could not focus as his mind could only return to you. He heard it just as he immersed further into the woods, with Geralt closely following behind. A woman was screaming, and he shivered at the thought that it was his beloved Y/N, who was in deathly peril.

“Y/N!” The bard yelled back, already moving to go to your rescue.

“Jaskier” Geralt stopped him, pulling back at his doublet. “Wait”

“What?” The aforesaid replied in outrage. “Y/N is out there, probably scared out of her mind right now, and it is all my fault, and you want me to w-“

Another sound interrupted him, one that took his breath away. It had sounded like a wolf howling, but the bard had enough experience thanks to the witcher to realize it was no ordinary wolf. No, that sounded far too strange to be a normal creature.

“A werewolf” Geralt muttered, pulling out his silver sword.

“How can you be so sure?” Jaskier stuttered, intently looking at his friend.

With no need for words, the witcher only pointed a gloved finger upwards. Following that direction, Jaskier realized what he was saying. There was a full moon looming over them, magical and mysterious as well as intimidating, if not for herself, for the creatures that lurked in her name.

“I’ll get the werewolf” Geralt whispered, finally letting go of him. “You circle around it and find Y/N”

Determined, Jaskier nodded his head and stepped away from the place the howling sound had originated from. He was adamant on his mission, as finding you seemed the most important thing he would have to do in his life. He only prayed that you weren’t injured.

Searching for any signs of your presence, he moved slowly, too afraid to miss any of the signs that you might be close by. The dry leaves crunched beneath his boots, yet no sound seemed loud enough to overpower that of his racing heart and his erratic breathing. His hands nervously closed and opened as his fingers nervously fidgeted.

“No…” Jaskier suddenly felt dizzy when he spotted something crimson staining the leaves. “Y/N?”

They were only a few droplets of blood, but it was more than enough to have Jaskier stop in his tracks and bend over weakly. His stomach churned, his mind was racing with terrible thoughts of what could have happened to you.

“Y/N? God, I hope you’re alright” He whispered. “Where are you, love?”

Just as he took another step, something caught his attention. A whimpering noise sounded to his right, and so he didn’t think twice to head in that direction. What he found was a figure, huddled behind a tree trunk, hiding her face on her knees and bawling her eyes out.

“Y/N!” Jaskier threw himself to his knees, gently laying a hand atop your shoulder.

“No!” You moved away from his touch, waving your hands in the air as though trying to swat him off you. “Don’t hurt me, please!”

“It’s me! It’s me, love, it’s Jaskier!”

When you dared look up, he paused. You were still breathing rapidly, tears rolling down your cheeks as your bawling started coming to a halt.

“T-The werewolf!”

“It’s alright, Geralt’s gone and get it”

The air turned cold as you grew silent. Jaskier watched you in anguish, wanting to ask if you were alright but nearly fearing he had lost the right to even ask that. It was his fault that you were there on the first place. Bearing heavy thoughts of your own, you remained quiet. You locked eyes with Jaskier as contradictory feelings overwhelmed you.

Love of my life, can't you see? Bring it back, bring it back, don't take it away from me Because you don't know what it means to me You will remember, when this is blown over And everything's all by the way When I grow older, I will be there at your side To remind you how I still love you

Back, hurry back, please bring it back home to me Because you don't know what it means to me

“I’m sorry…” He whispered, even though his voice came out strangled and it was barely audible. “I’m so sorry, Y/N, I’m-“

Much to his astonishment, you threw yourself to him. Your arms urgently wrapped around his neck as you cowered into his shoulder. All possible unwell within you both seemed to vanish as you collided in an urgent embrace.

“Oh, thank the gods I found you…” Jaskier sighed in relief, cradling your head as he held you tightly against him. “Are you hurt? I saw…”

“It scratched me…” You pulled away, holding your arm up to show him the garments torn to shreds and the superficial wound still pouring blood. “But it didn’t bite me”

“Thank the heavens…” He embraced you again, being taken by such relief that he now experienced an entire different kind of dizziness as he gingerly pressed your frame against his chest. “I’m so sorry, love, none of this would have happened if I hadn’t been so bloody stupid”

You were silent as you let him hold you. While your fresh wound was a duller ache, your head hurt as your love for Jaskier as well as your resentment for his demeanor fought for dominance within you.

“You’re mad, aren’t you?” He uttered, knowing how to interpret your silence. “I don’t blame you, honestly, I would-“

“Now you know” You interrupted him, realizing he was about to ramble as he usually did. “What do you have to say about it?”

“Yes, it is absolutely my bad” Jaskier vehemently nodded his head. “Had I realized what your true feelings were, I could have saved you so much pain and… I suppose I just didn’t see the signs that you-“

“Jaskier” You only called him, bearing unshed tears in your glassy eyes.

“I don’t know” He honestly replied, feeling more genuine and vulnerable than you had ever seen him. “I don’t know if I love you back, I just know that I care about you”

“I still love you…” You stuttered, letting out a nervous chuckle to hide the fact that your tears had overflown and were now rolling down your face once more.

“And I… I love you too, but… I don’t know in which way I love you, I just know I was terrified out of my mind when you ran away” He sighed, passing a nervous hand through his thick brown hair. “I might realize I hold romantic feelings for you soon or I might not, but… I want you to know that you hold a special place in my heart one way or the other”

Not knowing what to do or say, you only nodded your head. Feeling uncomfortable, you instead tried to stand up and Jaskier didn’t lose one second to help you to your feet.

“I promise you one thing, though” He tenderly held your hand. “I won’t ever allow myself to hurt you like this ever again”

“Okay…” You could only mutter, still recovering from the pain that day held for you.

“Come here, love” Jaskier wrapped his arms around you a third time, this time never wanting to let you go. He clung on to you, just like you were. Perhaps you loved each other in different ways, and whether that would change or not, you had each other at the moment.

The bard looked up when he thought he heard something. In the distance, he spotted Geralt standing there, carrying the blood stained sword. The two looked at each other as they were facing one another, and nodded their heads. They didn’t say anything, only resigning themselves to the way things ended. There was nothing to say anymore after all.

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