#shes doomed the second you boot it up

[devotedlystrangewizard]

ff7 rebirth really embraced the whole "okay this horrible event in the story will always happen no matter what but what if this time is different" that is inherently part of a remake

[kdollikesthighs]

Bedroom warfare: part 1

Itzy Yuna x m reader A/N: Angst, smut is for the next part! Word count: 2,434 words.

You’re looking forward to this. A rare night off, some drinks, catching up with your best friend, and finally meeting the girl who has him acting like she hung the very stars in the sky. He talks about her constantly, non-stop bragging. How she’s different, how she keeps him on his toes. You can’t remember the last time he was this into someone, so yeah, needless to say you were curious.

The roads are getting bad, snow already piling along the curbs. You should’ve come earlier, but fuck it, you made it.

You step up to the door, stomp the snow off of your boots and knock twice before letting yourself in. The second you touch the handle, time stops. The cold hits you, but it's a different kind of cold from the snow. A voice in your head screams that opening this door will certainly lead to doom.

The feeling is so sharp, so visceral, you freeze.

A warning.

You ignore it. This is ridiculous. Staying outside any longer might actually make you freeze. You push the door open.

And then you see her. The voice was right.

Yuna. 

She’s curled up on the couch, leaning casually into the cushions like she’s not a demon wearing human skin. Like she hasn’t detonated a nuclear bomb just by existing in this room. There’s no flicker of shock on her face, no moment of hesitation. Just a perfectly practiced smile as she glances up at you, eyes alight with smug confidence and feigned warmness. She was prepared.

“Hey, man!” Your friend’s voice cuts through your brain’s searching for an escape route as he claps a hand on your shoulder. “Glad you made it. Roads are getting bad out there.”

“Yeah,” you manage.

Your friend smiles that big, dumb smile of his, completely oblivious to the way Yuna’s gaze hooks into yours like a knife. “Come in, man. Get comfortable.”

You step forward on autopilot, hanging your coat by the door like you’ve done hundreds of times. Yuna watches without a single crack in her facade, her body language relaxed, deliberate. As if she’s making sure you understand—play along. Do not fuck this up.

“This is Yuna,” your friend continues, gesturing proudly. “Babe, this is my best friend. The one I told you about.”

The one she already knew. The one whose hands were once all over her, whose voice whispered filth into her ear, whose name she moaned as he took each hole of hers as his, whose life she set on fire and walked away from without looking back.

Yuna smiles, tilting her head just slightly. “Nice to finally meet you.”

The fucking nerve on her.

Emotions swell inside you, a festering wound ripping open, but your face doesn’t betray it. You match her smile with an empty one of your own. “Yeah. Likewise.”

You sit across from them, forcing yourself to ignore the way she’s curled into his side, the way his hand rests on her thigh like a claim. It’s all too much.

Your friend, completely unaware of the hurricane tearing through the room sweeping up only you and Yuna, leans back with a content sigh. “She’s incredible, man. Like, seriously. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone like her.”

Yuna meets your gaze, and you’d have died if looks could kill, then smiles at your friend. “You exaggerate too much.”

“Not even,” he laughs. “I told him you were different. I mean, look at you.”

You do. She stares back at you. Right at you. Like she’s daring you to say something.

You force a smirk. “Yeah. I’m happy for you.”

The night stretches on, a slow suffocation wrapped in forced pleasantries and underlying malice.

Yuna brushes past you as she walks to the kitchen, her nails grazing your wrist just enough to feel like a scratch. It’s intentional, a silent reminder that she can still reach beneath your skin whenever she wants.

You let your expression remain neutral, but when she returns and settles beside your friend, you decide to push back. You swirl your drink in hand, voice casual but with deadly precision. “You ever think about loyalty?”

Your friend laughs, oblivious. “Deep question, man. What, you been betrayed by someone?”

Yuna knows. Her grip on her boyfriend’s hand tightens, her jaw flexing for the briefest second before she smooths it over with a small, cutesy sound. “Is that something you’re struggling with?”

A sharp retort, coated in molten sugar.

You grin, eyes transfixed on hers, where her soul would be if she had one. “Nah. Just thinking about how rare it is these days.”

She tilts her head unimpressed, expression unshaken by your taunt. “Guess it depends on who you’re with.”

Your friend laughs again, oblivious to the daggers flying inches from his head. “Damn, this is getting deep for a casual night.” Bless his stupid heart.

Yuna goes on to laugh a little too hard with one of your friend’s jokes, her fingers running over his arm as she throws a glance your way. It’s like she wants you to know. See? I can be happy without you.

While your friend isn’t looking and off to get another drink, you lean in slightly, whispering just loud enough that only her ears catch it. “So how long will it be before you cheat on him, too?”

Yuna’s smile doesn’t waver, but her eyes flicker with something dark. “Didn’t know you were still this bitter. Having a hard time getting over me?”

Your friend is none the wiser, sipping his drink and rambling on about something you aren’t even listening to. He doesn’t see the silent war happening right as he returns, doesn’t feel the tension stretching thin enough to snap.

And Yuna? She sits there, composed, graceful, effortlessly charming. Like she hasn’t spent the entire night digging her nails into old wounds just to watch them bleed.

You can’t wait for this night to end.

Your friend’s phone buzzes against the coffee table, cutting through the forced, suffocating conversation. A moment of relief. He barely looks at the screen before answering.

“Hello?”

A pause. His expression shifts. It’s subtle at first, then tightening with concern.That big, dumb smile evaporates.

“What? When?”

Yuna straightens beside him, her fingers curling slightly on her lap. You watch the way her entire body goes rigid, instinctively responding to the shift in energy. The room tilts, like the balance of power is about to change. A ceasefire is called, as your common concern grows ever more concerned.

Your friend exhales sharply and runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah. No, of course. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

He hangs up, already moving towards the door.

“I have to go,” he says, grabbing his keys from the counter. “It’s my mom. She’s in the hospital.”

Yuna blinks. “Oh my god?”

The snowstorm outside has only gotten worse, and the roads are probably a nightmare. You’re sure he knows that, but there’s no hesitation in his movements. You can’t blame him, you’d be much the same. He’s already halfway to the door, shoving on his coat.

“I’ll be back soon,” he says, then glances between you and Yuna. “You two will be fine, right?”

Like hell you will.

No. No, you won’t be fine. Not alone. Not with her. Anything but that.

You clear your throat. There’s not enough time for an excuse, and you’d feel even worse using one in this situation. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, man.”

He frowns, halfway into pulling on his other sleeve. “What? Are you serious?”

“The roads are bad. You shouldn’t be out in this. Or I could come with you?”

“It’s my mom,” he says, like that explains everything. And in a way, it does.

You swallow any goodness you have left in yourself, attempting one final protest. “Still—”

“Please, stay here, just in case something happens. Yuna doesn’t know what to do if the power goes out. It’d make me feel more at ease.”

If only he knew half of it. But this is not the time to be selfish. He’s your best friend.

Your jaw tightens. Yuna doesn’t react, doesn’t look at you, doesn’t say a damn thing. She doesn’t need to. Everything she wanted to say, you already did. She wants you nowhere near her. But your friend was right. This was the better solution.

Your friend claps a hand on your shoulder. “Just stay, alright? Keep each other company.”

You nod in reluctant agreement. “Yeah. Sure.”

And just like that, he’s gone. The door slams behind him.

A rotten silence taints the air.

The performance shatters instantly.

The false smiles, the polite distance—it’s all destroyed the second his car pulls out of the driveway.

You exhale sharply, rubbing a hand over the back of your neck as you peered over to Yuna. “Fucking hell.”

Yuna scoffs, her arms crossed. “Yeah, I’m not happy about this either.”

She walks past you, and you hate that you recognize every little sway, tilt and strut her body makes. The controlled tension in her shoulders, the barely concealed hostility humming in her eyes. She’s coiled tight, inches away from snapping.

You don’t give her the satisfaction of speaking first. If anything you’d prefer to just sit in silence, minding your own business until your buddy is back.

“Guess it’s just us now.” She laughs. Fuck. So far for silence. It’s sharp, bitter. Venomous. “Like old times.”

Your hands clench at your sides. “Not fucking funny.”

Yuna turns to face you fully, her lips curling into something devious. “Never said it was.”

A charged tension crackles between you, thick with unresolved filth. You can’t look at her without the memories flooding back. The way she felt beneath you as you pounded her down to where she belonged. The way she used to moan your name, confessing her filthy desires and so-called love. The way she made you feel like the only person worthy of her in the whole world—before she tore it all apart.

And yet, despite it all, despite your veins burning with hatred, you can feel it. You know she’s thinking the same thing. Seeing the same memories.

The past isn’t dead between you. Far from it. It’s alive, thrashing, screaming, demanding to be acknowledged.

Yuna tilts her head, breaking your introspection. She’s studying you like a bug nailed to the wall. “You look like you want to say something.”

You exhale sharply. She’s wrong. You don’t want to say something. You want to stay silent. You have to say something. “Yeah. I do.”

“Then fucking say it.”

Your hands tighten into fists, your venomous glands activating. “You cheated on me.”

She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t look guilty. Just crosses her arms and raises a brow. “Yeah. I did.”

The sheer lack of remorse in her voice sends you over the edge. You expect her to at least soften, to at least pretend like it wasn’t that bad, saving her own skin. But she doesn’t. She stands in it, owns it, like she’s daring you to throw it in her face. Daring you to do something.

She knows just how to press your buttons. It never works out in your favor, but you bite back.

“And yet I’m still the villain?”

Yuna steps forward, voice razor-sharp, knowing exactly what you’d say. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “Oh, right. I forgot. Because you think what I did was worse.”

She doesn’t agree, and the snap in her scowl all but confirms it. “It was.”

You step closer too, closing the distance between you until there’s barely a foot between your bodies. She won’t get the best of you. “You spread your legs for another guy, Yuna.”

“And you turned me into some sex trophy to fucking show off,” she spits.

She’s right, both your words serving as the flame used to light a fuse burning toward an explosion neither of you cares to stop.

Yuna’s voice drops lower, more venomous. “You think fucking me over behind my back was okay? At least I had the decency to keep it private. At least I didn’t—” She cuts herself off, centering herself before continuing. She knows her strikes will land harder if she’s calm to deliver them. “Do you have any idea how it felt?”

You don’t respond. You can’t respond, and she doesn’t stop.

“I found out months later,” she says, voice quieter now, but no less dangerous. “Randomly. Just—stumbled across a conversation between you and your drinking buddies. ‘Look at her tits, isn’t she fucking unreal?’” Her eyes are burning now, the reflection of the impending explosion clearer than ever. “And they agreed. Told you how fucking lucky you were. All while I had no idea you were passing those pictures around like a fucking trophy.”

She had you dead to rights, but you didn’t care. “I was drunk.”

Her laugh is pure ice. Unamused and willing to kill. “Oh, fuck you.”

You began forming something that barely resembles an excuse. Against your better judgement. “I didn’t think—”

“That’s the fucking problem,” she snaps, stepping forward until she’s practically in your space. “You never thought. You never cared.”

You snapped back, your version of the truth different from hers. “That’s not true.”

Her head tilts again. It’s her tell for being in disbelief, her eyes dark. “Isn’t it?”

Silence. You wanted it not long ago, but now it’s suffocating.

You don’t have an answer.

Or maybe you do, but you don’t want to say it. Maybe there is some truth to you being an asshole.

Yuna scoffs at your lack of response, then turns away. You expect her to storm off, to put as much distance between you as possible, but she doesn’t. Instead, she walks to the counter, grabs the bottle of whiskey sitting there, and pours herself a bottom. She knocks it down without effort.

You frown, knowing what kind of omen this was. “Drinking already? That’s a bad idea.”

She scoffs, pouring herself another. “Yeah, you’re famous for being good with alcohol.”

You don’t respond to her accusation. There’s no point. What she did was worse anyway. “Alcohol makes you messy.”

She smirks bitterly, raising her glass in mock salute before taking a slow, deliberate sip. “Yeah?” Her eyes drift to yours, heavy-lidded and absolutely unimpressed. “And whose fault is that?”

You don’t answer.

Because you both know exactly whose fault it is.

And now, there’s nothing left between you but impending destruction. It wasn’t a matter of ‘if’, it was a matter of ‘when’.

[wolvietxt]

𝓕OR THE 𝓕IRST 𝓣IME …

pairing : dean winchester x female!reader warnings : crying, friends to lovers, fluff, really light angst (squint and you’ll miss it), hunts, food mentions, reader has implied insomnia (self indulgent sorry) wc : 6.1k😈

the gravel crunched under the impala’s tires as dean pulled into the parking lot of yet another roadside diner. the neon sign buzzed faintly overhead, casting flickering hues of blue and pink over the impala’s sleek frame.  

“another diner?” you teased, sliding out of the passenger seat. your boots hit the ground with a soft thud. “you know, there are other food groups besides pie.”  

dean smirked, locking the car with a flick of his wrist. “and i’m sure you’ll tell me all about them, kid. but i don’t need food advice from someone who orders salad at a steakhouse.”  

“first of all, that was only one time,” you shot back, walking alongside him toward the door. “and second, that salad was really really good.”  

dean snorted, holding the door open for you. “whatever helps you sleep at night, darlin’.”  

the diner was exactly what you expected: vinyl booths, laminate tables, and the comforting hum of an old jukebox in the corner. dean led the way to a booth by the window, sliding in across from you.  

“so,” you started, picking up a menu. “are you gonna do that thing where you order half of what’s on the menu? or just pie and coffee?”  

“both,” dean said without hesitation, his eyes skimming the options. “you know me. go big or go home.”  

the waitress appeared moments later, all smiles and a notepad in hand. dean ordered two burgers and, of course, pie. you went with something lighter, which earned you a raised brow.  

“you sure that’s enough?” he asked once the waitress left. “you’re gonna get hungry and start eyeing my fries. i can feel it.”  

“i am perfectly capable of ordering my own food, thanks.”  

“we’ll see.”  

the food arrived faster than expected, and you fell into easy conversation, catching up on the day’s events. the current hunt had been straightforward so far - just a basic salt-and-burn. still, you weren’t exactly looking forward to it. you never where when it came to hunts, they were more dean’s speciality. the looming anxiety and sense of impending doom wasn’t ever remotely enjoyable for you.

“so, what’s the plan for tomorrow?” you asked, grabbing a fry from your plate. “wrap this one up and hit the road?”  

“probably,” dean replied between bites. “unless we get more intel on that death omen case. sam thinks there’s a connection between the two.”  

“of course he does,” you said with a laugh. “guy can’t take a win without overthinking it.”  

“hey, that overthinking saves our asses sometimes,” dean pointed out, though his tone was more fond than annoyed.  

“true. but it also gets him hexed.” you grinned. “remember that time with the chickens?”  

dean barked out a laugh, nearly choking on his drink. “oh man, that was gold. i think we have a picture of him running from that rooster somewhere.”  

“we should frame it,” you said, smirking. “hang it in the bunker’s library for motivation.”  

“you’re evil, you know that?” he remarked, his smug grin widening further.

“takes one to know one,” you shot back, plucking the cherry off of his slice of pie and popping it into your mouth.

your conversations were effortless, the kind of back-and-forth that felt like second nature at this point. it wasn’t until dean reached over and grabbed one of your fries that you gave him a look.  

“you’ve got two whole plates,” you said, swatting his hand away.  

“what can i say?” he replied, popping the fry into his mouth with zero shame. “yours taste better.”  

before you could respond, the waitress returned to drop off the check. she hesitated for a second, then smiled warmly.  

“you two are such a cute couple,” she said, her voice casual but sincere.  

you froze, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.  

“we are not a couple,” you blurted out, at the exact same time dean said, “yeah, never.”  

the waitress blinked, clearly taken aback by your synchronized response. “oh, uh, sorry! my mistake.”  

she hurried off, and you stared after her, still processing what just happened.  

“well, that wasn’t awkward at all,” dean muttered, reaching for his coffee.  

“why does this keep happening?” you asked, more to yourself than to him.  

“beats me,” dean said with a shrug, though you caught the flicker of something in his expression - amusement, maybe? “guess we just give off the vibe.”  

“the vibe?” you echoed.  

“you know.” he waved a hand between the two of you. “like… a vibe.”  

“that explains nothing.”  

“then i guess it can just be one of life’s great mysteries, sweetheart.”  

you tried to let it go, but the waitress’s comment lingered in the back of your mind. it wasn’t the first time someone had assumed you and dean were a couple, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. still, it felt… different this time.  

you glanced across the table at dean. he was back to his usual self, leaning against the booth with a lazy grin and a smart remark on the tip of his tongue.  

he caught you staring and raised an eyebrow. “what?”  

“nothing,” you said quickly, looking away. “just thinking.”  

“about what?”  

“the hunt,” you lied.  

he didn’t press, but you could feel his gaze lingering for a moment longer before he turned his attention back to the check.  

“you ready to hit the road?” he asked, sliding out of the booth.  

“yeah,” you said, grabbing your jacket. “let’s go.”  

the drive back to the motel was quiet, the hum of the impala’s engine filling the silence. dean had turned on the radio, and metallica’s prince charming filtered through the speakers. you leaned your head against the window, watching the dark countryside blur past.  

“why are you being so damn quiet?” dean said after a while. “i know i’m always complaining about it but it really doesn’t feel right when you’re not yapping my ear off.”

“‘m just tired,” you replied, though that wasn’t entirely true. your mind was still replaying the waitress’s words and the way dean had brushed them off so easily.  

“well, get some rest,” he said, his voice softer now. “we’ve got a long day tomorrow.”  

“okay, dean.” you nodded, letting your eyes drift shut as baby rumbled on.  

the next morning, you were back on the road, this time heading toward a small, rundown cemetery. the salt-and-burn had gone smoothly, but the death omen case was proving to be trickier than expected.  

“so what are we looking for?” you asked as dean parked the car near the edge of the cemetery, trying to rub your eyes subtly so he wouldn’t notice your fatigue.

“old journal entries mentioned a spirit tied to a cursed locket,” he said, grabbing his duffel bag. “we find the locket, we find the spirit.”  

“sounds easy enough,” you said, though you both knew it rarely was.  

the two of you spent the next hour combing through the overgrown graves, your flashlights cutting through the dark.  

“anything?” dean called out from a few rows over.  

“not yet,” you replied, brushing aside some vines. “but this place gives me the creeps.”  

“aww, don’t tell me you’re scared, sweetheart,” dean teased, his grin audible even from a distance.  

“you wish,” you shot back, though you couldn’t deny the way your nerves prickled.  

as you moved to another section of the cemetery, you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone - or something - was watching you.  

“dean,” you called out, your voice quieter now.  

“yeah? you okay, sweetheart?” his voice softer now, a hint of panic sneaking through. 

“i think we’ve got company.”  

he was at your side in an instant, his flashlight sweeping the area. “stay close,” he said, his tone serious now.  

you nodded, your heart pounding as the shadows seemed to close in around you. whatever was out there, you had a feeling this hunt was about to get a whole lot messier.  

the night was heavy with an unnatural stillness, the kind that made your skin crawl. somewhere deep in the shadows of the cemetery, you just knew something was watching you.  

you stayed close to dean as the two of you scanned the overgrown headstones, flashlights cutting through the darkness.  

“you hear that?” you whispered, your voice barely carrying over the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze.  

“hear what?” dean replied, his gaze darting around.  

then it came again - a low, guttural moan, echoing through the cemetery like a warning.  

“that,” you said, gripping the iron crowbar in your hand a little tighter.  

dean’s jaw tensed. “stay behind me,” he muttered, pulling out his gun.  

“you know i’m not great at staying behind,” you quipped, though your attempt at humor fell flat against the weight of the moment.  

“yeah, i noticed,” he said, flashing you a wry grin despite the tension. “but humor me, darlin’. just this once.”  

the two of you moved cautiously toward the source of the sound, your flashlights dancing over moss-covered graves and weathered stone angels. the air grew colder the closer you got, your breath puffing out in visible clouds.  

then you saw it - a faint, ghostly figure hovering near an old, crumbling mausoleum. its features were obscured, but its presence was anything but subtle.  

“that’s gotta be our spirit,” dean said, his voice low.  

“looks like it’s guarding something,” you observed, nodding toward the mausoleum door.  

“the locket,” dean guessed.  

“how do we get past that thing without getting our faces ripped off?”  

“i distract it, you grab the locket,” he said simply, like it was the most obvious plan in the world.  

“oh, sure,” you said, rolling your eyes. “because splitting up always works so well for us.” when you looked up at, him he finally noticed the twinge of fear in your tired gaze.

“trust me, sweetheart,” dean said, flashing you a soft smile he hoped appeared reassuring. “i’ve got this.”  

against your better judgment, you let dean take the lead. he stepped into the spirit’s line of sight, his gun raised.  

“hey, casper!” he called out. “over here!”  

the ghost turned toward him, its hollow eyes locking onto his figure. it let out an unearthly wail that sent chills down your spine, then began moving toward him with an unnatural speed.  

“anytime now!” dean shouted, firing a round of rock salt to slow it down.  

you darted toward the mausoleum, shoving the heavy door open with all your strength. inside, the air was damp and musty, the faint smell of decay clinging to the walls.  

your flashlight landed on an old wooden box sitting atop a stone altar. you didn’t have time to think - you grabbed the box and pried it open, revealing the cursed locket inside.  

“got it!” you called out, stuffing the locket into your pocket and running back toward dean.  

the ghost was still focused on him, though it was clearly losing its patience. dean fired another shot of rock salt, sending it reeling.  

“move it, kid!” he yelled, glancing back at you.  

“i’m coming!” you shouted, skidding to a halt beside him.  

together, you pulled out matches and a small jar of accelerant. you didn’t waste a second, dousing the locket and striking a match.  

the moment the flames touched the cursed object, the ghost let out a piercing scream, its form disintegrating into a shower of sparks before disappearing entirely.  

“well, that was fun,” dean said, lowering his gun.  

“yeah, a real blast,” you replied, still catching your breath.  

he turned to you, his expression softening slightly. “you okay?”  

“yeah,” you said, nodding. “thanks for the save.”  

“always,” he said with a small smile, clapping you on the shoulder. “come on, let’s get out of here before something else decides to show up.”  

the drive back to the motel was quieter than usual. the adrenaline from the hunt had worn off, leaving you both exhausted.  

“you’re really bad at staying behind,” dean said suddenly, breaking the silence.  

“and you’re really bad at not playing the hero,” you shot back.  

he glanced at you, his expression somewhere between exasperation and fondness. “you’re gonna get yourself killed one day, you know that?”  

“not if you’re around to save me,” you said lightly, though there was an edge of truth to your words.  

he didn’t reply, but the way his grip on the steering wheel tightened said enough.  

back at the motel, you both collapsed onto your respective beds, the exhaustion from the hunt settling into your bones. the cheap, scratchy sheets were far from comfortable, but you barely noticed, too tired to care.  

“you want first shower?” dean asked, already kicking off his boots and wincing at the creak of the bed frame beneath him.  

“you take it,” you mumbled, waving him off and stifling a yawn. “i’ll just... lie here for a sec.”  

he paused, giving you a look. “you good? you’ve been dragging all day.”  

“just tired,” you said quickly, forcing a small smile. “nothing a shower and some sleep won’t fix.”  

dean didn’t seem convinced. “you sure? you’ve been looking... kinda rough.” his voice was softer now, almost hesitant. “when’s the last time you actually got a decent night’s sleep?”  

“i sleep,” you said, avoiding his gaze by focusing on the ceiling.  

“yeah, but do you sleep?” he pressed, gesturing vaguely with one hand. “like, real sleep. out cold. no tossing and turning. none of that zombie stuff.”  

“i’m fine, dean,” you said firmly, though your voice lacked any real bite.  

he lingered for a moment longer, clearly unconvinced but unsure what else to say. eventually, he grabbed a towel and disappeared into the bathroom with a quiet, “if you say so.”  

the sound of the shower running filled the silence, but your mind was louder. it wasn’t that you didn’t want to sleep - it was just that you couldn’t. not really. the hunts, the adrenaline, the nightmares - they all tangled together into a mess you couldn’t quite escape.  

you stared at the water-stained ceiling, your thoughts drifting back to the hunt and, inevitably, to dean. the way he’d thrown himself between you and that ghost without hesitation, his instincts sharper than anyone you’d ever met. it wasn’t just about the hunt; it was about him.  

you sighed, shaking your head at yourself. this wasn’t the time to overthink things.  

when dean emerged from the bathroom, steam trailing after him, his hair damp and sticking up at odd angles, you were still lying in the same spot.  

“your turn,” he said, tossing a towel onto your bed.  

you groaned, forcing yourself to sit up. “if i fall asleep in there, it’s your fault.”  

he smirked, stretching out on his bed and crossing his arms behind his head. “just don’t drown, sweetheart.”  

rolling your eyes, you dragged yourself into the bathroom, the hot water doing wonders for your sore muscles and the lingering chill from the hunt. by the time you came out, the room was dark, and dean was already passed out, one arm draped over his face.  

you stood there for a moment, watching the rise and fall of his chest, his face relaxed in a way you rarely got to see.  

“goodnight, dean,” you murmured softly, pulling a blanket over yourself as you sank onto your bed.  

as you lay there, the quiet hum of the motel settling around you, you tried to let the exhaustion take over. but your thoughts wouldn’t quiet, your body still on edge despite how tired you were.  

at some point, dean shifted, his voice groggy but unmistakable. “you okay?”  

“yeah,” you lied, turning onto your side to face the wall.  

“you sure?” his voice was softer now, thick with sleep.  

“get some rest, dean,” you mumbled, not trusting yourself to say more.  

“right back at you,” he muttered, the faintest hint of concern lingering in his tone before his breathing evened out again.  

you closed your eyes, willing yourself to follow his lead, even as your thoughts refused to let you.

a storm rolled in by the time you and dean reached the next job. thick, gray clouds churned overhead as rain hammered against the impala's windshield, the wipers working overtime. the cabin in question - a decrepit thing that looked more haunted than it probably was - loomed at the end of a dirt road.  

"of course it's in the middle of nowhere," you muttered, peering at it through the rain.  

"yeah, because monsters love suburban neighborhoods," dean said, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he parked the car.  

you snorted, unbuckling your seatbelt. "remind me again why we couldn’t tackle this in daylight?"  

"because the kid who called us swears the thing only shows up at night," he replied, grabbing his shotgun and tossing you a flashlight. "come on, sweetheart. we’ve got work to do."  

the inside of the cabin was worse than the outside. peeling wallpaper, creaky floors, and an unsettling number of broken mirrors made up the interior.  

"i'm guessing the shattered mirrors aren't just bad decorating choices," you said, shining your flashlight across the room.  

"nope," dean said. "sounds like we're dealing with a vengeful spirit. probably tied to one of these." he gestured to the shards of glass littering the floor.  

"great," you muttered. "so, we find the mirror, salt it, and burn it. easy enough."  

"you say that now," dean said, smirking as he headed toward the stairs. "but nothing's ever that easy, is it?"  

you split up to cover more ground - though not without a bit of grumbling on your part. it was horrible hunting without dean, the anxiety looming over you multiplying by a thousand. the cabin had two floors, plus a creepy basement you were hoping to avoid.  

"why do i always get stuck with the creepy basements?" you whined after him as he ascended the stairs.  

"because you're the rookie," dean shot back, his grin audible even from a distance.  

"oh, real mature," you muttered, making your way toward the basement door, sucking in as many deep breaths as you could manage.

the basement was every bit as awful as you’d imagined. damp, dark, and filled with cobwebs. your flashlight flickered as you descended the creaking stairs, and you swore under your breath.  

"if this thing jumps out at me, i’m leaving dean to deal with it solo," you muttered to yourself, sweeping the light across the room.  

you spotted an old, ornate mirror leaning against the far wall. it was cracked but still intact - a likely candidate for the spirit's anchor.  

"dean, i found something," you said into the walkie-talkie dean had insisted you carry.  

"copy that," came his reply. "on my way down. don't touch it."  

"wasn't planning on it, boss," you said, rolling your eyes even though he couldn’t see you.  

dean joined you a minute later, shotgun in hand. he gave the mirror a once-over, his expression hardening.  

"yep, that's the one," he said. "you got the salt?"  

you nodded, pulling the bag from your backpack.  

"good. i'll cover you," he said, positioning himself between you and the dark corners of the basement.  

"you know, for someone who calls me a rookie, you sure don’t trust me to handle things on my own," you teased, pouring the salt over the mirror.  

"nah, i trust you," he said, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "just don’t want you getting yourself killed. i'd miss you too much."  

the comment caught you off guard, and you glanced at him, trying to gauge if he was serious. but before you could say anything, the temperature in the room plummeted.  

a figure materialized behind dean - a translucent woman with hollow eyes and a twisted expression of rage.  

"dean!" you shouted, and he spun around just in time to fire a round of rock salt at her. the spirit screeched, vanishing into thin air.  

"you okay?" he asked, turning back to you.  

"yeah," you said, your heart pounding. "but she’s definitely not gone for good."  

"not until we burn this thing," dean said, nodding toward the mirror.  

you struck a match, lighting the accelerant you’d poured over the salt. the mirror went up in flames, and another anguished wail echoed through the basement before fading into silence.  

back upstairs, you and dean collapsed onto the dusty couch, both of you breathing heavily.  

"you know," you said, leaning your head back, "for a rookie, i think i did pretty well tonight."  

dean chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "yeah, you didn’t screw up too bad."  

"high praise," you said, feeling fatigue spread over you once more.

he glanced at you, his expression softening in that way that always caught you off guard. "i mean it," he said. "you did good, sweetheart."  

you couldn’t tell if it was the exhaustion or the way he said it, but something about the moment felt different. heavier.  

"thanks," you said softly, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious under his gaze.  

before either of you could say anything else, the walkie-talkie crackled to life.  

"hey, uh, guys?" sam’s voice came through, tinged with static. "you alive down there?"  

"barely," dean replied, grabbing the device. "but the spirit's toast. we'll meet you back at the motel."  

"got it," sam said.  

the drive back was quiet again, but this time, it wasn’t just the exhaustion. something unspoken lingered between you, making the silence feel heavier than usual.  

"so," you said finally, breaking the tension. "you think sam's gonna be mad we didn’t wait for him?"  

"nah," dean said, though his smirk suggested otherwise. "he’s used to it by now."  

you laughed, shaking your head. "poor guy."  

"hey, he knew what he was signing up for," dean said. "besides, he’s probably just glad you didn’t burn the whole cabin down."  

"oh, so now i’m a fire hazard?"  

"just saying, i’ve seen you with matches," he teased, and you couldn’t help but laugh again.  

back at the motel, sam was already poring over research for the next hunt.  

"how’d it go?" he asked, barely looking up.  

"spirit's gone," dean said, flopping onto one of the beds. "but the place was a real fixer-upper."  

"great," sam said, clearly not listening.  

"you know, you’re a terrible audience," you said, plopping down beside dean.  

sam hummed distractedly, still scrolling through his laptop.  

"don’t take it personally, sweetheart," dean said, grinning at you. "he’s just jealous he missed all the action."  

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. despite the exhaustion, there was a strange warmth settling in your chest, one you weren’t quite ready to examine too closely.  

later that night, after sam had gone to bed, you and dean found yourselves sitting outside the motel, the night air cool and refreshing after the storm.  

“you still can’t sleep, huh? we really gotta get that checked out.” dean uttered, breaking the silence. “c’mon kid, what’s got your mind going so crazy?”

"you ever think about, you know, taking a break?" you asked, staring up at the stars, surprised with how he could always clock you so quickly.

"from hunting?" dean asked, raising an eyebrow.  

"yeah," you said. "just... doing something normal for once."  

he snorted. "normal’s overrated."  

"come on," you said, nudging him with your elbow. "you’ve never thought about it? not even a little?"  

he was quiet for a moment, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "maybe," he admitted finally. "but normal’s not in the cards for people like us."  

"i guess not," you said softly, though you couldn’t help but wish it were different.  

the conversation faded into a comfortable silence, the kind that didn’t need to be filled.  

"you know," dean said after a while, "you’re not half bad at this whole hunting thing."  

"high praise," you said, smiling faintly.  

"i mean it," he said, his tone more serious than you expected. "you’ve got guts. most people wouldn’t last a week in this life, but you - "  

he stopped, shaking his head like he wasn’t sure how to finish the thought.  

"but me?" you prompted, your heart pounding for reasons you didn’t quite understand.  

"but you’re different," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.  

you didn’t know what to say to that, so you didn’t say anything. instead, you let the moment hang between you, heavy and unspoken but somehow perfect in its own way.  

the next hunt came quicker than expected - barely two days after the cabin job. a string of disappearances in a sleepy town near a dense forest had drawn your attention. while sam was still digging through lore, you and dean decided to scout the area.  

"we’ll take the impala and check out the woods," dean had said, tossing you your jacket.  

"because that worked so well last time," you quipped, zipping up your coat.  

"what can i say?" he said with a smirk. "i like to live dangerously."  

the forest was eerily quiet as the two of you trudged along a narrow dirt path. the afternoon sunlight barely filtered through the thick canopy of leaves above, casting the area in a dim, golden haze.  

"you know," you said, stepping over a fallen branch, "i don’t think i’ve ever seen you willingly go for a hike. kind of nice to see you in your natural habitat."  

dean shot you a look. "i’ll have you know i’m very outdoorsy."  

"oh, sure," you said, grinning. "nothing says 'man of the wilderness' like a guy who packs cheeseburgers for every meal."  

"hey, those cheeseburgers keep me alive," he said, pretending to be offended. "besides, you’re one to talk. what’s in your backpack right now? candy bars?"  

"no comment," you said, giggling as he shook his head.  

you reached a clearing after about an hour of walking. the ground was covered in strange markings - symbols carved into the dirt, arranged in an ominous circle.  

"well, that’s not creepy at all," you muttered, crouching to get a closer look.  

dean knelt beside you, his brow furrowed. "witchcraft, maybe?"  

"maybe," you said. "but why the forest? wouldn’t a house or barn make more sense?"  

"maybe they like the fresh air," he said, scanning the area with his flashlight. "either way, we need to be careful. whoever’s behind this probably doesn’t want us poking around."  

"yeah, no kidding," you said, standing up and brushing dirt off your hands.  

the rest of the day was spent investigating the clearing, but the markings didn’t offer many clues. frustrated, you and dean decided to head back to the motel.  

"we’ll regroup with sam, see if he’s found anything," dean said as you walked back to the car.  

"do you think this one’s human?" you asked, wide eyed with expectation.

he glanced at you, his jaw tight. "maybe. but something about it feels... off. i don’t like it."  

you nodded, falling silent. his instincts were rarely wrong, and if dean was uneasy, you knew better than to dismiss it.  

back at the motel, sam had made some progress.  

"the symbols in the clearing - they’re part of a summoning ritual," he explained, showing you a dusty old book.  

"great," dean said, flopping onto the bed. "so, what are we dealing with? demons? spirits? something worse?"  

sam hesitated, glancing between the two of you. "it’s a summoning ritual for a wendigo."  

your stomach dropped.  

"a wendigo?" you repeated. "seriously?"  

"yeah," sam said grimly. "and if the markings in that clearing are any indication, they’re close to finishing the ritual."  

"perfect," dean muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. 

the plan was simple: return to the forest, disrupt the ritual, and kill the wendigo if it had already been summoned.  

"simple," you said, your tone dry as you loaded your shotgun.  

"hey, it’s worked before," dean said, smirking as he handed you a flare gun.  

"yeah, and almost got us killed before," you shot back, though you couldn’t help the fearful expression that broke out on your face.

"what can i say?" he said, shrugging. "we’re good at not dying."  

the forest felt different this time - heavier, like the air itself was charged with something dark and unnatural.  

"stay close," dean said, his voice low.  

"i definitely wasn’t planning on wandering off," you replied, gripping your shotgun tightly.  

he shot you a quick glance, his expression softer than you expected. "just... stay close, okay?"  

"okay," you said quietly, feeling your heart skip a beat.  

the clearing was empty when you arrived, but the symbols on the ground glowed faintly, pulsing with an eerie red light.  

"that’s new," dean said, his jaw tightening.  

"you think the ritual’s already started?" you asked.  

"probably," he said, scanning the area. "we need to move fast."  

you started disrupting the symbols, kicking dirt over them while dean poured salt and lighter fluid around the edges.  

"almost done," you said, glancing over at him.  

but before he could respond, a bloodcurdling roar echoed through the forest.  

"guess that answers that," dean muttered, raising his shotgun.  

the wendigo burst into the clearing, its pale, emaciated form moving with unnatural speed.  

"stay back!" dean shouted, firing a shot that barely slowed it down.  

you raised your flare gun, aiming for its chest, but the creature was too fast. before you could fire, it lunged at dean, knocking him to the ground.  

"dean!" you screamed, panic surging through you.  

he rolled out of the way just in time, his shotgun skidding across the ground.  

"shoot it!" he shouted, and you didn’t hesitate.  

the flare hit the wendigo square in the chest, igniting it in a burst of flames. it screeched, thrashing wildly before collapsing into a smoldering heap.  

dean scrambled to his feet, his breathing ragged.  

"you okay?" you asked, rushing to his side.  

"yeah," he said, wincing as he rolled his shoulder. "you?"  

"fine," you said, though your hands were still trembling.  

he gave you a once-over, his eyes lingering on yours. "you did good, sweetheart."  

the drive back was quiet, the adrenaline slowly fading. when you finally reached the motel, sam was waiting anxiously.  

"did you - "  

"it’s dead," dean said, cutting him off.  

sam sighed in relief, but his attention quickly shifted to the way dean’s hand lingered protectively on your waist as you headed inside.  

later that night, as you sat outside the motel again, dean joined you, a beer in hand.  

"that was really scary. are you sure you’re okay?” you admitted, breaking the silence.  

"‘m fine, sweetheart,”  he said, his tone soft.  

"i know," you said, glancing at him. "but still."  

he met your gaze, something unspoken passing between you. "you know, you’ve got guts," he said, echoing his words from before.  

"so you’ve said," you replied, smiling faintly.  

he shook his head, his expression turning serious. "i mean it. you’re different. special."  

your breath caught, and for a moment, you couldn’t speak.  

"dean - "  

"just let me say it," he said, cutting you off.  

you nodded, your heart pounding.  

"i’ve been doing this job a long time," dean said, his voice low, almost like he was thinking out loud. "and i’m not exactly the kind of guy who’s good at this stuff, but… i like you. more than i probably should."  

your heart skipped a beat, your breath catching in your throat, but you stayed quiet, letting him keep going.  

"it’s not just because you’re super fucking cool or because you can keep up with me," he added, a small smirk tugging at his lips before fading. "it’s because you’re the one person who makes all this crap we deal with feel… worth it."  

his gaze locked on yours, steady and serious. "i don’t know what that says about me, but i know i don’t want to screw this up."  

tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you bit your lip, refusing to let them fall.  

"i… i don’t know what to say," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding in your chest.  

"you don’t have to say anything," he replied, his lips twitching into a small, nervous smile. 

but you did anyway. "i feel the same way, dean," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.  

his lips quirked into a small smile. "yeah, baby?"  

"yeah," you said, and before you could overthink it, you leaned in, pressing your lips to his.  

the first kiss had barely ended, and you still felt breathless, the taste of him lingering like honey. you pulled back just enough to meet dean’s eyes, your hands still clutching the front of his jacket as if letting go wasn’t an option. he looked at you with a softness that felt rare, his usual bravado replaced by something raw, unguarded.  

"so," you began, trying to find words that didn’t feel ridiculous in a moment like this, "i - "  

but dean leaned in again, cutting you off with another kiss, this one slower but somehow even more consuming.  

"dean," you mumbled against his lips, trying to catch a breath, but his hands cupped your jaw, tilting your face up toward him as if the conversation could wait - like anything else in the world could matter right now.  

"mm-hmm?" he hummed, not pulling back. his mouth moved to the corner of your lips, then your cheek, trailing down to your jaw.  

"i’m trying to - " you started again, only to dissolve into laughter as he pressed a kiss to the spot just below your ear, his stubble grazing your skin in a way that sent a shiver down your spine.  

"nah, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice low and teasing. "you’re not trying to do anything but stay right here."  

you laughed harder, the sound bright and almost giddy, your chest shaking against his. you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt this light, this happy.  

"dean," you said again, still giggling, "let me talk!"  

"nope," he said, his grin audible even as he kissed the side of your neck. "’m way too busy."  

"dean!" you squealed, trying to push him back, but he was relentless, his arms wrapping around your waist to keep you close.  

"what could possibly be more important than this?" he asked, finally pulling back just enough to look at you. his smile was cocky, but his eyes were warm, filled with a tenderness that made your stomach flip.  

you opened your mouth to respond, but instead, a strange mix of a laugh and a sob came out, and suddenly you were crying - just a little, just enough that he noticed.  

his face changed immediately, his smile dropping as he cupped your face with both hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had escaped.  

"hey," he said softly, his brows knitting together. "what’s wrong? fuck… ‘m sorry baby, i - "  

you shook your head quickly, the absurdity of the question making you laugh again, even as more tears fell. "no, no, it’s not that. i’m not upset, i swear."  

"you’re crying, sweetheart," he said, his voice low and concerned. "that usually means something’s wrong."  

"i’m happy, you idiot," you said, laughing through the tears.  

he blinked, his hands still holding your face, as if trying to process the words. "happy?"  

"yes, happy," you said, your voice cracking a little as he wiped at your cheeks. "like... stupidly, ridiculously happy. i just - i didn’t think this would ever happen."  

his expression softened in a way that made your heart ache. "you really thought i wouldn’t want this?"  

"i didn’t know," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "i mean, it’s not like you’re exactly forthcoming with your feelings, dean."  

he let out a breathy laugh, his forehead pressing gently against yours. "yeah, well, you’re not wrong there."  

his hands slid down to your waist, holding you close as he looked at you, his green eyes searching your face like he was trying to commit every detail to memory.  

"but for the record," he said, his voice serious now, "this? you? it’s all i’ve wanted for a long time."  

your breath caught, and before you could respond, he was kissing you again, his lips soft but insistent, as if he was making up for lost time.  

this time, you didn’t try to pull back or say anything. you just let yourself fall into it, your fingers tangling in his hair as his hands slid up your back, holding you like you might disappear if he let go.  

when he finally broke the kiss, his lips barely left yours, and he stayed close enough that you could feel his breath against your skin.  

"still happy?" he asked, a teasing edge creeping back into his voice.  

you laughed, your forehead resting against his. "stupidly, ridiculously happy."  

"good," he said, his hands slipping under the hem of your shirt to rest against your waist, his touch warm and grounding. "because i’m not letting you go now, sweetheart."  

"bold of you to assume i’d want you to," you teased, smiling up at him.  

"damn right," he said, his grin returning as he leaned in for another kiss, and this time, you didn’t even try to stop him.  

ᰔ dean winchester : @person-005

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

[jedipoodoo]

Ruthlessness (Sergeant Hunter x fem!Reader)

"After everything you've done...how will you sleep at night?"

"Next to my wife."

Notes: Feral Hunter, above-average bloodshed and violence. Reader is implied to be a Jedi but it's never explicitly stated, inspired by that line from Epic: The Vengeance Saga.

Hunter tore through the base. He could smell your fear and terror, and he knew you were nearby. He didn't even need Tech's directions.

This is what he was made for.

He hadn't slept since he'd heard you'd been captured, and he wouldn't rest until you were safe in his arms.

He quickly dispatched the two TK Troopers at the door with blaster and knife. Before the first body could hit the floor, he snatched the key card from their belt. He could hear your heartbeat just beyond the door, sluggish and slow, along with one other heartbeat and the deadly hum of an interrogation droid.

The moment the door opened, Hunter found his target, launching his vibroblade at the droid.

The blaster shot took him by surprise. Hunter managed to dodge so that it grazed him just below the ribs, but it burned. Every nerve in his body screamed out in pain,but he had to keep moving forward Hunter dropped to his knee, holding his wound, and looked up at the blaster pointed at his face.

"Doctor Hemlock warned me you'd come after her," the Imperial officer said, his voice low and lethal. He sounded just like Hemlock and Rampart, a controlled calm with a storm seething beneath the surface.

Hunter had no use for control. Not when he saw you hanging limp in the officer's arm like the damsel in distress in some cheap holo novel.

"Let her go, and I might let you live." Hunter growled, pushing himself to his feet.

The blaster followed his every move, and the officer chuckled as if he hadn't just been threatened.

"That's not an option here. She's a traitor, as are you."

Hunter took a step forward, only to stumble against a table littered with surgical tools. The officer kept the blaster trained on him, smart man.

But not smart enough.

"You're a stubborn one, aren't you?" The officer chuckled, "You clones just don't know when to quit."

"Hun'red percent success rate," Hunter bragged through gritted teeth, forcing his legs to support him.

"And vain too," the officer scoffed.

Hunter turned his body just enough that the officer couldn't see him grab the scalpel, still trying to make his way to you. Your heartbeat was growing slower with each passing second. He had to get you out of here.

"And what do you call your Emperor, then? An empire that'll last a thousand years? The Republic's been around longer than that."

"The Republic is gone!" The officer snapped, "That is the difference between the Galactic Empire and your precious Republic!" He jabbed the barrel of his blaster against Hunter's chestplate, sealing his doom.

Hunter moved too fast for anyone but Crosshair to have really noticed. The scalpel met its target in the vein of the officer's wrist, and he dropped the blaster with a scream. Hunter grabbed the wound and twisted it, forcing the officer to drop your body. Hunter only took his eyes off the officer to make sure you were safe, but he recovered quickly. He reached for the blaster with his non-dominant hand, and Hunter kicked it out of reach. The officer went for Hunter's wound, digging his hand into the wound. The air was ripped from Hunter's lungs as he tried to focus his vision. He couldn't let you die here, not as a trophy for some fanatic Imperial sycophant.

He still gripped the scalpel in his hand, and as the officer grinned sadistically Hunter drew it across his face. Blood splattered everywhere, and the officer reeled back with his face in his hands. Hunter didn't let him recover. He stomped his booted foot on the officer's shin, shattering his bones. The officer writhed on the floor as he tried to crawl away, dark blood from his face and wrist staining his gray uniform and slicking the tile floor.

Hunter held his side and adjusted his hold on the scalpel for a firmer grip, standing above the insignificant worm of a sentient that had dared to lay a hand on his Cyare.

"You clones-" the officer spat, coughing on his own blood.

"Scraping by, betraying the glory of the Empire just to live hand to mouth..."

"How how do you live with yourself?

"How do you sleep at night?"

Hunter grabbed onto the officers hair, yanking his head back so that the last thing he ever saw was the clone who would kill him.

"Next to my wife."

He drove the scalpel into the monster's chest, over, and over, and over again, until he heard the silence of its heart.

Hunter heaved a deep breath, tasting the coppery tang of blood at the back of his throat. It took a moment, but Hunter knew it wasn't his own.

A shuddering breath echoed through the room, and Hunter turned to you, crouching in between you and the officer so that you wouldn't have to see him as you woke up.

"Cyare? Cyare, can you hear me?" He called your name, cradling your head in his lap.

You mumbled something unintelligible, eyelids twitching.

"Hun'er?"

"Easy, easy Cyare, you're safe. It's over," He said. He gently pressed his fingers to the spot below your jaw where he could feel your heartbeat. It was delicate, like the flutter of a bird's wing, but it was there all the same. He needed to get you to the ship.

Hunter lifted you into his arms and though you raised your arms to hang onto his neck, they weighed as much as a starcruiser.

"I've got you," He whispered, "You're gonna be alright."

Your knee hit the blaster wound in his side, and he winced.

"You're hurt," You gasped, still drugged but now worried about him.

He shook his head and straightened his shoulders, "Don't worry about me. You're safe now. That's all that matters."

@photogirl894 @meadow-of-daisies-and-lavender @emperor-palpaminty @clonethirstingisreal (I just thought y'all would enjoy ✌️)

[raainberry]

let it snow (x3)

sana x gn!reader

« silly series - 18 »

synopsis - why would sana want to daydream of the day she met her partner when she relives it every few weeks? (but she’d really like to stop having to arrest you)

wordcount - 1.4K

T/W - nothing except the police i guess. oh and blood kinda but nothing crazy.

A/N - 🧍‍♀️. go thank @cry4mina for the comeback they bullied me into with this. jingle slay to you all💃

Oh, the weather outside is frightful.

White coated trees, blanketed grass, booted up kids throwing snowballs at each other, missing their target but not the innocent passersby struggling with black ice.

You love when the lyrics match the scene. After all, who doesn’t love relating to something. Even as small as a snowflake. That good old feeling of being linked, cuffed to something bigger than yourself.

Something that matters. That proves you exist. That you’re alive.

“You’re under arrest for trespassing and damage of property. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you’ll say can and will be—”

“—used against you in a court of law.” You finished alongside her. “I know, sweetheart, I keep hoping to see you there.”

You smirked, twisting your neck as best you could to get a glimpse of her. The reason you feel alive, cuffing you for the third time in two months.

You caught her rolling her eyes, and your lips stuttered out a dumb joke between your own giggles. Something about reliving this scene in a much more comfortable place last time…

“Shut it, I’m serious.”

Her voice was sharp, but you saw that corner of her lips move up as she tightened the cuffs. The cold metal bit into your wrists, and the winter air nipped at your flushed skin, but that chill down your spine? Nothing more than the thrill of the game.

“Oh, you’re serious?” you teased, turning your head again just enough to catch her glare. “Then why are your ears turning red, officer?”

“They’re red because it’s freezing, not because I’m amused by your antics,” she shot back, tugging you upright and guiding you towards the waiting patrol car.

“Antics?” you repeated, stumbling slightly on the icy sidewalk. “All I did was entertain the neighborhood kids. What’s wrong with a little community service?”

“Community service?” Sana stopped short, pulling on your cuffed hands to make you face her. Nothing funny about the furrowed eyebrows hardening her gaze, yet there you were, grinning like an idiot. “You whacked a window with a baseball bat, trespassed—again, and got into a fight with the homeowners.”

“First of all,” you scoffed, “the ball was a snowball. The bat? Snow baseball regulation standard. And the fight was crazy, like I went to apologize and they started hitting me—do you not see the bruising!?”. Your voice raised in pitch as you fought your restrained limbs, desperately trying to point out the spots that stung on your lips and cheek. “Why don’t you book them for assault too, huh?”

Sana raised an eyebrow, her eyes flicking over your face to notice the small bleeding cut on your top lip and the faint, pinkish bruise on your cheekbone.

Enough to pick at her heart, messing with the rhythm of its beats for a hot second before her brain took over. She scoffed at the sight, “Nothing crazy, only you.”

“Wow.”

“Done?”

You took a deep breath, finally taking your eyes off her before letting it all out in an exaggerated sigh. Just to put it out there, make it known you’re annoyed. “Fine… let’s go.”

Sana didn’t hide the smirk tugging at her lips, pushing you forward with a sharp motion. Her fingers were still firm around your wrist, and it was the only thing you could focus on despite the doom walk towards the patrol car.

“You know I really wish you’d stop getting yourself arrested to see me,” she said, her voice laced with that professionalism you both knew she was barely holding onto.

“It’s not like I do it on purpose…” you mumbled before giggling. “But it’s our thing I guess. You, arresting me, cuffing me… It’s like fate,”you teased, nudging her with your shoulder. “Come on, admit it. I spice up your boring shifts.”

Her pace didn’t falter, the crunch of snow beneath your shoes was the only sound for a moment, but you didn’t let up. Barely holding on but very tightly… “There’s nothing boring about my shift. The only thing you’re doing is giving me a headache,” she shot back. Her eyes flicked back to your face, softening for just a second before she steeled herself again. “You’re lucky I don’t add ‘wasting my time’ to the list of charges.”

“You’d never,” you chuckled. “You care too much.”

“About my job? Yes,” she retorted, already pulling you towards the car again.

“About me.”

This time she did falter, for just a second, but she recovered quickly, shoving you into the back seat with as little care as possible.

“Ow! Where’s the damage control, officer?” you whined, shifting uncomfortably. “Aren’t you supposed to make sure I’m okay? Get me a band-aid or som—”

Sana’s exasperated sigh cut you off as she leaned into the open door, one hand gripping the top of the frame while the other rested on her hip. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told,” you shrugged, flashing her a grin.

Her jaw tightened, but there was something in her eyes, something softer. She knew she was fighting a losing battle, so she glanced over her shoulder, scanning the snowy street for any sign of too curious passersby. Nothing but snow and the same busy people fighting for their lives on black ice so she turned back to you, finally mirroring your smile.

“You really don’t know when to shut up, do you?”

“Can you blame me if this is what I get from it?”

For a heartbeat, you thought she might laugh it off. Maybe roll her eyes, slam the door, and drive you straight to the precinct like last time. But then she leaned in, her hand still braced on the car as her face hovered inches from yours.

And then she kissed you. Time froze. Everything stilled but your lips, allowing her to give into the warmth of her desires.

Her kiss was soft, lips pressing gently against yours, mindful of the bruising on your mouth. The faint sting of your split lip was nothing, a mere distraction from the delightful fire she’d lit up inside your heart.

If anything that pain made it real, kept you in touch with reality while this ridiculous rom-com moment unfolded. The cold touch of her free hand hovering on the side of your neck did a great job too, her thumb grazing your jawline.

She pulled away first, but she stayed close, her breath mingling with yours. Her gaze flickered to your lips from your eyes, “You’re bleeding again.”

You chuckled, nodding your head towards her mouth, “Yeah well, you’ve got some too.”

She blinked, bringing her hand up to her lips, “What,” she swiped her thumb on her lips, gasping softly at the faint smear of red. “Great.” she muttered, grabbing a tissue from her pocket.

“You know, you should be careful with these things,” you teased, grinning despite the ache in your lip. “What are they gonna say if we walk into the precinct and your captain sees that?”

Sana’s head snapped up, her glare weakening at the sight of your smile. “Don’t even joke about that.”

“No but think about it. Just walking in with matching bloody lips, Jihyo jumping you for sleeping with the perp,” you giggled at your own joke before continuing, “Maybe you should just let me go. I’ll cook tonight and put it behind us.”

She paused for half a second, tissue still pressed to her lips as your words registered. “Right, because that wouldn’t look suspicious at all.”

You sighed, throwing your head back dramatically. “Sana just please let me go,” you whined again, drawing out the words in hopes to tug at the bit of sympathy you knew she felt for you.

Only for her to roll her eyes. And instead of answering and bickering some more, she leaned back and reached back for the edge of the door.

“Sana—”

The door slammed shut with a thud, cutting off your protests for good.

You watched through the window as she rounded the back of the car. When she slid into the driver’s seat she seemed composed enough, but you could see the faint pink dusting her cheeks.

She refused to look at you.

The car soon started to fill the silence with the soft hum of the heater, and you leaned forward, trying to catch her eye in the rearview mirror.

“You’re awfully quiet,” you said as the engine came to life, “Thinking about dinner already?”

“Shut up.”

[kouzih]

Pretty boy.

Nam-gyu ( Player 124 ) x male!reader .ᐟ

warnings : has smut-ish parts, angst(?) insecure male!reader, mlm, drug/alcohol use and more stuff..

tags,, @gongyoosgf @cybrasigilism @paulilvsremus

word count: 9.1k !!

( 1/24 WHICH MEANS HAPPY NAM-GYU DAY Y'ALL!!! AAA AAA AAA sorry for the long waiting!! i wanted to make this one a bit longer than my other fics..and yeah!! hope you guys enjoy it 🫶 i'm sorry it's kinda fucked up..no proofread tho!! )

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ As you make your way home from the hospital, you look at the bags in your hand again. You were doomed to these medicines to keep your body going. You've always hated this and it's been one of the barriers preventing you from accepting yourself..as a man. A man should be strong, masculine and not dependent on anyone else. Nothing else. With an involuntary sigh, you continued on your way. The bus you were supposed to get on passed you, and although it stopped at the bus stop, you didn't quicken your steps and try to catch the bus. You weren't even upset about missing it, the cold air hitting your face made you feel more alive. The ground was wet from the recent rain, and you arrived at the stop listening to the sounds of your boots hitting the water. You reach into your coat pocket and grab your phone to check the time. Your breath makes your phone screen fog up.

Your friend's text message catches your attention and you call her to reply, knowing that she won't see your message.

After waiting a few seconds, she answers the phone and greets you. "Heyy, what's up?" "Hey. You know, the usual stuff..shitty medicines and..all.." You say the last part in a whisper, lowering your voice when you see someone else approaching your stop. "Ohhhh, hospital shit again? Man, hoe can you deal with those everyday?" "Come again?" You hear a buzzing sound from your phone and realize that she has put it on the desk and turned on speakerphone. "I'm sayingggg, you take those tasteless medicines everyday, give tests and stuff and yet..you don't heal. Like, let's be real,," Even though you knew she didn't mean what she said, you couldn't help but sigh because she was telling the truth. "Mhm." After a hum of agreement for her to continue, you glance at the other person next to you, another face you hadn’t seen before. He had one hand in his pocket as he scrolled through his phone, leaning his face on the railing of the bus stop. You couldn't really hear what your friend was saying, her voice kept breaking because she was busy with something in the back and the stranger next to you had drawn your unnecessary attention.

The stranger tilted his head to the side, letting his hair fall over his face. Using his hand in his pocket to fix his hair, then started recording a voice message. "Yeah, yeah I'll take my bus in uh.." His eyes meet yours, he lowers his phone a little and speaks again. "Do you know when next bus will come?" "In 2 minutes or so-" "In 2 minutes, like that guy said." Shaking his head slightly, he drops the voice recording, sighs and puts his phone back in his pocket, opening the front of his coat a little, causing steam to form when his hot breath meets the air.

Unable to take your eyes off him, you turn around, realizing that you have been staring at him for a long time. "Ah- sorry. I wasn't listening.." You whisper to your friend on the other end of the phone, and when you hear a laugh from her, you look down with a slightly embarrassed face. "Yeah, don't worry it was obvious, anyway." Your pupils dilate as her voice on the phone gets louder and what she says gets louder. "I was wondering if maybe we could go to a club, what do you say? We can visit the place where my friend hangs out all the time."

"A club?" Your voice must have come out louder than you intended because you hear the sound of the stranger moving next to you, so you clear your throat and continue speaking. "I mean, sure. When exactly?" You're not a person who can drink, you cannot put anything in your mouth except light things because it affects you too much. But it could still be a good way to clear your head...at least for one night to escape your problems. "This night. You don't have any plans, right?" Of course, you didn't have any plans. You couldn't really have any other plans than going to your apartment and staying there all day. "Sounds good." Before you know it, the bus has already arrived. You raise your head and take a step towards the bus, telling your friend that you will call her later. You get into the same bus with the stranger next to you and take a seat in the back. You place the medicine bag on your lap, putting your hands in the pockets of your coat. Your coat is closed enough to cover your neck and the tip of your nose, so half of your face is not visible.Your hair is slightly fluffed up from the cold air as it hangs slightly in your eyes, and with a sigh you watch the other stranger take a seat near the front.The bus is almost empty with only a handful of people.

When you come home, you reach for your keys to open the door, you hear the sound of the key turning and tiny footsteps approaching. As you close the door behind you, you feel a soft sensation around your feet accompanied by a meowing sound.

"I'm home."

You lean over and pick up your cat as you lazily toss your bags and coat aside; she always loves to greet you. You feel her head rubbing against your neck as she licks your cheeks softly, not bothering to put your shoes away as you walk towards the living room with your cat in your arms. You watch your cat as you slowly place her on the couch, spinning around and sitting down, her tail tucked under her. As a small giggle leaves you, you put your hands on your knees and stand up, heading towards the kitchen to give your pet a treat. You head towards your front door to lock it before heading into the kitchen, taking off your shoes and grabbing your coat and medicine bag. You go back to the kitchen and reach for the cat's treats from the upper cabinets. As you place some in one of the fancy iron containers you bought earlier, you notice that the cat has already come to you. You take the treat from the counter and place it in front of her, leaning back against the counter as you watch her purr and eat her treat. Remembering that you need to call your friend, you start looking for your phone in your pockets, thinking it can be on the couch, you head towards it, reach for your phone and lie down on the couch. You start driving around the house looking for him. It takes a few minutes for her to pick up, so you have to call again. Meanwhile, you've come to your room and you're already trying to decide what to wear. When you hear your friend's voice on the other end of the phone, you turn your attention back to your phone.

"Hiiii!!" "Hi there." You place your phone on your shoulder and look in your closet. Maybe you should wear something more masculine since you're going to the club. "Are you ready yet?" "Uh, not yet. But I'll be." After hearing your friend's voice of approval, the sound of a key catches your attention. She must be leaving the house.

You still hadn’t decided what to wear when she ended the call by saying she would send you the address as a location. "Okay- bye." You gently placed your phone on your bed and your eyes caught a shirt you hadn’t worn before, thinking it was too big. "I could make this work.." After whispering quietly, you start to make your outfit by checking the time, deciding to do your hair last. You played with your hands strangely as you looked in the mirror. You didn't look bad, you seemed to be in good shape. You didn't look official, but... you didn't look homeless either. You just forget about it and reach into your closet for a small hair tie, You put a small ponytail in the back of your hair. Even though it was small enough to be called a ponytail.. it looked cute. You tilted your head to the side and looked at your hair, giggling to yourself as you put the final touches on it and got ready to leave the house. You know, closing the windows.. turning off the lights and checking on your beloved cat.

When you realize that she is already asleep, your doubts are lifted for a moment, at least you won't have to worry about her anymore. You grab your keys and walk out the door, whispering a small 'goodnight' from your lips, and as you close the door you set off on your way. It was a little late, since you went to the club. When you approach the location where your friend sent, you encounter your friend near the door. She greets you by raising her hand. "Hereee!" You quicken your steps a little and come to your friend, taking your hand out of your pocket and giving her a small wave. "Did I keep you waiting?" You ask in a cheerful but low voice. Your friend, who shakes her head in refusal, fixes her hair before going inside, and you are surprised that there is no line while gesturing for you to come in as well.

You follow your friend with your arms crossed, you didn't want to get lost in a place you didn't know, even if it wasn't crowded. She left you alone to find her friend and said she'll come back, leaving you to get the drinks. You sit down in an empty seat, and as your eyes wander to the people inside, you notice that most of them are already drunk. A whistle from behind you draws your attention to the barista in front of you, who was looking at you with one hand on the counter and the other on his hip.

"Hey pretty boy, have you decided what to order?"

Pretty boy? "Uh, anything light." "First time?" "More than that touches me." "Got ya." The barista turns around, slamming his hand on the counter mockingly, you watch him with your full attention as he prepares your drink. Even if you don't pay much attention at first, his face looks familiar. You notice that he's turning his head to someone else and humming something to them while holding your glass in his hand. As you look into your glass, you notice that he has a few rings on his hand. Even though it's something unnecessary, you're intrigued by the fact that he's wearing jewelry. As he turns his attention to you, he taps his tongue and hits the glass with his index finger, making the ring make a sound with the tapping.

He holds the glass out in front of you and speaks in a lower voice. "And..here you go. A white wine spritzer for the new guy." As you thank him and take your drink, you finally figure out why his face looks familiar.

This was the same man you saw at the bus stop. Only now his hair was more.. different. It looked more well-groomed and didn't cover his eyes like it did at the bus stop. As you wrap your hands around your glass, you notice your friend sitting down next to you. Playfully pushing your shoulder, she calls out to the barista for her drink. "Heyy, sup?" "Hey." While he was busy with another drink in his hand, he looks at the two people next to you with an eyebrow raised. Especially to the friend who is the reason you came here. "You are all together?" The person your friend knows tells you that you guys are new here and that she invited you. He bites his lower lip a little and hums in approval. When the drink he was preparing is finished, he leans slightly towards you, placing his elbows on the counter.

"I thought your friends would be crazy like you, but they seemed pretty normal."

His eye points at you, making you flinch for a moment. You listen to their conversation as you take a sip of your drink. "Yeahhh, well you can't know that. Maybe they are crazy, huh?" The person mocking the barista, with her hands on the counter and her head on her knee, also smacks your friend on the arm, causing the two of them to laugh. You could only stare at them as you traced the edge of your glass with your fingertip. You weren't bothered by it, but you couldn't bring yourself to let them get along and you just sit on the sidelines. In a moment of courage, you down the rest of your drink in one go, tapping your glass on the table as you reach up to wipe your mouth, but you notice your friend is looking at you.

Your friend looked at you with a funny look, shouting something at you and disappeared with her friend. "Don't go too far, you already know why!!" The atmosphere got tense for some reason as she left you alone with the barista again. You slowly pass your empty glass towards the man in front of you, a hum coming out of your mouth. "Can I get something.. heavier?" Shaking his head slightly, he returns to his work again. Even though you didn't drink anything heavy yet, you still didn't feel very well. Your stomach hurt a little and your head ached slightly. But you didn't want to drink the same thing over and over. And if you consider that the person in front of you is a man...maybe trying some heavy stuff would be a good experience. Your feet were actually touching the ground, but you stood on your tiptoes to make yourself look taller. You realized your drink was ready when his footsteps approached. This time he didn't say what it was as he handed you a red glass. You weren't very good with drinks, so you couldn't guess. He cocked his head slightly to the side as he looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "Don't know what it is?" "No.." "Don't care about it, just drink. It does taste good, so don't worry." He says quickly as he wipes his hand on the apron tied around his waist. After all, you’re not his only customer.

You take a sip and try to guess, was it wine again?

You take another sip, but this time it feels sweeter, like there's something wrong with your taste.

Even if you don't get what it is, you continue drinking because you like the taste. In the meantime, your friend comes to you once again. She's not drunk, but she looks a little... messy..Your friend says she wants to leave early and asks if it's okay with you. At first you want to leave the club with her because it means you'll be alone, but then something tells you to stay. "Nah, I guess I'll stay a bit longer." Your friend gives your arm a gentle squeeze, telling you to be careful. Her friend next to her shouts something before leaving. "Nam-gyu! The guy who came with me will still be here, keep an eye on him!" Even if you don't know who it is at first, you eventually do when the barista raises his hand in acknowledgement.

Maybe you could talk to him since you know his name now. That you saw him at the bus stop and... felt like talking. Maybe it would be better if you don't say the last part. With them leaving completely, you are left alone for a while, thinking about taking out your phone and walking around. In the meantime, the man you were dying to talk to appears in front of you again.

"I see you finished your drink?" "Yeah, just finished." "Want me to make something heavier again? I thought 'more than that touches you'." You feel a slight blush on your face, yes you said that..and yes it really touched you. "Well I'm not the best at the moment but," You put your phone back in your pocket and continue talking. "I wanted to try something new...even though I knew I would get worse." "That's not cool bro." "Huh?" The man in front of you speaks in a ridiculous tone while pointing at several drunk and sober people on the sides. "There are even people who come here and just drink coke, and believe me, they can get crazy drunk." You frown at him, not quite understanding what he's saying. Are you supposed to be offended? "There's no need to waste yourself trying something new." It felt ironic that he was speaking as a barista. After all, it was his job to make and sell drinks.

"And this is coming from a barista, huh?"

He just chuckled at your question and rolled his eyes jokingly. Even though you didn't talk much, you already felt close to him, and it was obvious that he was a fun person.

"Anyway, why you didn't leave with your friends?" The question made you freeze suddenly. How exactly could you say that he was the whole reason you stayed? But you decided that now wasn’t the time to be shy, so you cleared your throat and answered him. "We met before actually, kind of, I saw you at the bus stop." You paused for a moment between sentences and corrected yourself. He blinked and made a face as if he were trying to remember. He must have remembered afterwards because a few words fell from his lips. "Ohh, the guys I asked the bus, yeah?" "Yeah!" "What a confidence. I didn't think you'd be in this club." Oh right..He was still with you when you talked about the club. "Ah- yes, yes.. I didn't think we would..met as well." As you reach out to scratch your neck, your slightly undone hair tie comes into your hand. As you look at the hair tie that has fallen into your palm, your hands go to tie your hair back up when he stops you. "Leave it, this suits you." Coming from someone with long hair, it meant more to you. "If you say so." It occurred to you that it might be getting late, and as you look at your phone in sudden panic, you realize it's past midnight. "Oh, fuck."

"Everything alright?" He asks in a worried and curious tone as you turn off your phone and put it back in your pocket. "Not really- I just didn't realize it was getting this late." "You have plans or something?" This question again.. "No, not at all. I just don't like sleeping late." After nodding his head to show that he understands, he clears his throat by hitting the counter with his hand. "Okay, then. You better get going." "Right, right. Do you guys take cards?" "Sure. Lemme make it for you really quick." You take your wallet out of one of your pockets and hand him your card. After going to a place not too far away and paying, he comes back with a piece of paper along with the card. "All done. And here is my number. In case you'll think about coming here again, let me know so I can get you on my shift, yeah?" "Thanks." You grab the paper with the card and tuck them in your wallet before standing up. After fixing your clothes, you turn your attention to Nam-gyu.

"Talk to you later..Nam-gyu." You said it loud enough for him to hear. Hoping you didn't mix up his name. He looked at you and tried to get your name out of his mouth, but since he didn't know, he just let out a breath and said goodbye to you. "See ya."

As you head home, you look at the paper in your hand. The number was written quickly and the last numbers were a little blurry because the ink hadn't dried yet. Since there were no buses, you preferred to walk, and maybe it would make you feel better. Your stomach still ached and you could feel the drinks you drank stuck in your throat. You were almost at your house when you felt like throwing up. You didn't want to embarrass yourself since there were a few people around. You entered your apartment building with one hand over your mouth, sobbing as you climbed the stairs to your own apartment. The first place you went to when you entered the house was the sink. You looked at yourself in the mirror as you unintentionally threw up the things you drank. Your face was sour because of the taste that remained on the tip of your tongue. "..I knew I shouldn't have had that second glass.." As you’re mad at yourself under your breath, you remember the number he gave you.

You quickly cleaned yourself up, letting the cold water hit your face. You sat down on the dull bathroom floor and picked up your phone. "Let's see.." You carefully write down the numbers and save it in your phone. You want to look at his social media with your save. While you are curiously scrolling through your apps, you notice that there is usually no profile photo, but the profile photo on one of them catches your attention. He looked like when you saw at the stop.. His hair was messier and he was dressed in a nicer style. His tattoos, which you didn't notice at the club, were also visible in his photo. You feel a little ashamed that you found yourself stalking him. What was your problem? Maybe it's his looks..and that he calls you a man.. You get up, shaking off your thoughts. It was obvious that you were going to have no sleep tonight, but you still took a sleeping pill to try your luck. The fact that he was on your mind even though you guys didn't talk for more than a day caused your cheeks to turn pink. Maybe you could have spent your time wandering around the house..even if you wanted to, you couldn't call him at this hour.

Before you knew it, it was already morning, you couldn't say you were doing well. But you weren't too bad either, you checked the time and planned to start your daily routine.

09:00 am

You remember that you need to make breakfast before you sit down at your computer. Of course, you didn't forget your beloved cat either, she woke up before you and had already left her food bowl in front of the kitchen. Thinking of her before yourself, you place the food bowl full of food next to your cat's bed. She gets up excitedly, meowing at you while eating her own food with small chews.

You prepare your own breakfast and get down to work. Since you were working from home, you had nothing to worry about. Well, we could say that you were able to have a comfortable working environment. When it's time for a break, you want to scroll through your phone, and then the number you saved last night catches your attention. "Nam-gyu.." As you silently read his name with your lips, you thought it would be a good idea to call him. Maybe you could say a 'what's up man?' or just..have a little chat. After a swallow, you wait for him to pick up the call. And after a few seconds later, you hear a voice on the other side of the phone. "Hi?" "Hey there." "Do I know you?" Oh right. Your number wasn't saved on his phone. "I-it's me. From last night- remember? The guy you talked to?" While you're hoping for him to recognize you, you feel momentarily uneasy when the person on the line remains silent. "Ohh- yeah, the one I gave my number. What's up?" "Yes, that one. Just wanted to say hi while I'm on my break." He speaks after clicking his tongue. "Sweet, I'm still at home. you must have guessed I'm on the night shift. Shitty night shifts.."

"Actually, I'm at home too, I mean- because I work from home." There was a slight edge in your voice. Like he was going to judge you. But right now, he seemed to be in a good mood. Before he can respond, you quickly add something else. "It didn't seem very busy yesterday actually?" "You think like that. Do you have any idea how hard it is to deal with drunk sons of bitches?" After a small chuckle, he continues. "Especially when their own whores are with them." You didn't expect his mouth to be like..this.

"Yeah.. right." After a small hum comes from the end of the phone, you ask him to repeat it. "You're up tonight?" "Up?" "Down for getting drunk, duh." He continues his speech while assuming a tone of voice as if he had just remembered something. "You can't drink too much, can you? After they left, I got a message from my friend not to give you any shit that's heavy." God, this is embarrassing. Yeah, what they said was true, but saying it like that made you feel less of a... man. A few unexpected words escaped from your lips as you involuntarily nodded his approval. "But I still wanted to try." "Is that soooo.." "Yeah." There was silence between you for a few seconds, then he replied with a sound as if Nam-gyu was sucking his teeth. "Hell..you'll stay with me, though? With the promise of leaving if you get any bad feeling." "Promise."

The night went better than expected. Nam-gyu turned out to be a bit more foul-mouthed than you thought, but he still kept in touch with you. You two drank together him without leaving your side. There was one scene that you couldn't forget, especially on your way back home.

While drinking together, everyone raises their glasses, and when you’re the last one not to raise your glasses, Nam-gyu grabs your shoulder and pulls you towards him. "Don't be shy, pretty boy. Come onnn, cheersss!" You thought he didn't realize what he was saying because he was half drunk, but you wanted to bring it up in your conversation the next day. Although it has been a few days since you met him, you spent your days hanging out with him. You were talking to him on the phone again, telling him how your night went and stuff. "Right, right. Good thing that you weren't drunk enough to start hitting on others. Hell, you'd look hilarious." Hilarious? "Why did you say that now.. I'd not." "Yeah-uh, you would. We hung out together all night anyway, glad you enjoyed the night." "Ah- yep. Thanks." You almost forgot what you had to ask for a second, he would go silent sometimes because he was having breakfast.

"You called me pretty boy, though."

"Hm?" After finishing the mouthful, he speaks again.

"Fuck, I did? I mean, it's true but I don't remember saying it."

So he actually meant it. "Isn't it normal because you were drunk?" Oh yeah, definitely.. it's also normal for him to be all over you because he was drunk. "Yeahhh..anyway. You feel any good?" "Mhm, pretty good." Mentally? Yes. But physically, honestly speaking, you were a mess. You hadn't been taking your medication regularly for a few days, and you especially didn't touch your medication the day you went out drinking. You didn't even have the energy to take a shower as soon as you got home and threw yourself into bed. But you still couldn't give up on this feeling. The way he talked to you and the way you felt more manly when you were with him.

The cheerful voice you hear before you hang up the phone makes your heart stop for a moment. "See ya around man." And just like that the call ends. You smile to yourself as you place the phone back on your lap.

You continued going out with him like this for the last few weeks, until one day you tried something a little heavier. You saw him take drugs while you were drinking. And this time he offered you a little too. His eyes were half-closed and his bangs were stuck to his face. You two weren't actually inside the club, you had already left a couple mins ago. You were standing on a bench at the side of the street. The cold air hit your face and you weren't exactly drunk, you had chosen to drink less. Despite that, your stomach ached and you weren't feeling very well. He held a slightly crushed pill in his hand, extending his palm towards you. "Take some." "Uh, no. I'm good." "Ugh. Take it." He brings his palm towards your lap, urging you to take it. You think again, involuntarily taking it from his hand. You feel like throwing up for a moment and go to cover your mouth with your free hand. Nam-gyu moves closer to you, placing his hand on your knee as he tilts his head slightly to the side. He hiccups a few times as he tries to understand what’s going on. You take your hand off your mouth and turn your head to the man next to you. He was watching your face with his mouth slightly open. The moment you turn to him, he can't help but laugh a bit.

"Fuck it, one time wont hurt." Still indecisive, you look at his face. When he realized you weren’t going to do it on your own, he lazily grabbed your hand and popped the pill into his own mouth, chewing it a few times. You were so focused on the sound of the pill breaking that you didn't realize his lips brushed against yours until a little sound came from him. After feeling a few pieces of dust in his mouth, he pulls back from you, his head hitting your shoulder before he returns to a sitting position with his head down. Your eyes widened as you felt your cheeks turning pink. You were practically awake as he sat next to you as if nothing had happened.

You looked at him, swallowing hard, and opened your mouth to say something. But you didn't want to press the issue, you knew he wouldn't remember what he said because he was already so high. Or what he did.

But you would be lying if you said you weren't high either. You weren't feeling very well and your head was spinning. You were either going to stay here numb, or you were going to go home. You weren’t going to sleep in the middle of the street. So you struggled to get up and held Nam-gyu’s hand. He threw a curious look at you and tried to get up as well, laughing to himself as he fell onto your back. Hell, you two were high as fuck. He didn't keep his mouth shut, asking you ridiculous questions as you two headed towards your apartment. Nam-gyu, who threw himself on the couch as soon as you entered, was in a much worse state than you. To wake up you either had to take a shower or go to sleep like him. Nam-gyu didn't sleep even though he was on the couch. He doesn't make a sound while looking at your sobbing figure. "I'm gonna take a..bath. You stay there." He put his head on the edge of the couch and makes eye contact with you. He closed his eyes and made a gesture of approval. This way you go to your own room...good thing you have a personal bathroom.But when you start taking off your clothes, some footsteps catch your attention. As you take off your seat belt, you notice that the door is slightly open.

"Man..fuck this shit my head hurts like hell.." He speaks to you as he struggles to stand. He must be starting to wake up a little, but you doubt he's still conscious. "Mhm..what about taking a hot shower?" "..Hot shower?" "Yeah." He sits on the edge of your bed, one hand playing with his hair as he walks into the room. You keep your hands still on your belt, finally catching Nam-gyu’s attention as you throw it onto the bed. He gives you a look that you can't understand. But your mind is still stuck on the warm feeling of his lips on yours. You don't want to take your pants off in front of him, suddenly you turn your attention to the bathroom with the sound of water overflowing and say a few words to him. "The left door at the end of the hallway is the bathroom.. I think you should take a shower too." He makes a sniffling sound and then his eyes move from your hands to your face. Without saying anything, he leaves the room and heads to the bathroom.

With him gone, you can finally go to the bathroom. But the thought of what would you do if he didn't leave eats you alive. Would you really take it off in front of him? You pray to god he left. Taking a shower really did feel good, just like you thought it would. The warm water hitting your skin made you felt more alive. Especially after smoking it, you thought you wouldn't find yourself at home. You head towards the living room in your pajamas, the wet drops in your hair soaking your shoulders. Nam-gyu had already left the bathroom before you and was letting his hair combs dry on the edge of the couch. His eyes were watching the ceiling, and he lifted his head slightly when he noticed you coming.

"Finally." With a sigh, he raises his hands to tuck the hair behind his ears. You realize his rings are gone, they were lined up on the table along with his phone.

"My bad, it took me a bit to..feel better." After muttering to him with a guilty conscience, Nam-gyu pats the back next to him, gesturing for you to come over. "Yeah whatever man.. come on." As you sit next to him and watch his movements, you realize that he is waking up with difficulty. He would close his eyes from time to time and open them again as if he had woken up from sleep. Suddenly, you remembered your medication. Maybe it would be better for your health to get a few. "Oh, wait-" You reach out from the couch and pick up a bag that's on the table. "What's that?" Nam-gyu spoke more soberly. "My medications..I haven't taken them for a long time." As you look at the pills, you remember that moment again, you hoped to get better by taking your medication. Nam-gyu speaks lazily as he looks at the pills in your hand. "Is there anything that helps with headaches?" "Yeah." You lift one of the few pills left on your right and wave it in the air. As you come to him with a glass of water in your hand, he throws his head on the couch and glares at you. He waits for you to put the pill in his mouth with his mouth slightly open, and when you hand him the glass of water, he swallows the pill dryly, shaking his head. "No need." You put the water in your hand aside and hold on to the couch with your hands. You tilt your head to the side and look at the face below you.

His eyes were probing your face as if he was going to eat you alive. One hand comes to your face, pinching your nose he speaks in a low voice. "Like what you see? Heh." You frown at him and back away from the couch. You decide it’s a good idea to change clothes since your wet hair has completely soaked your shoulders.

You walk towards your room and take off your clothes. Before you can put on another t-shirt, you feel two hands grab your bare arms. You turn your head, startled by the cold feeling. Nam-gyu’s eyes roam over your body as his muscles twitch slightly in response to your reaction. "Were you always that..skinny?" You step forward and try to ignore what he says. Either he was high or he was seriously trying to get close. The first option seems like it might be more realistic for you. He stayed at your apartment that night. And even if you didn't want to admit it, he was acting closer to you. He would call you in the morning with his sleepy voice and ask about your plans, and when he came across ridiculous customers, he would send you messages about them.

"Someone just picked the drink that he threw up, fucking weirdoooo.."

"I mean seriously, people have no taste when it comes to drinking..."

He even agreed to come to the hospital with you. Even though he accompanied you to drink, he also cared about your health sometimes. One day when the weather was rainy and cold, he offered to pick you up with his car. You had been in his car a few times already, so you knew where he usually parked. You practically ran out of the apartment, holding Nam-gyu's hand as you quickly walked in the rain to find the car. "Wait, wait— it's not like the car is gonna run away." Before you could even guess, you fell to the ground because of the wet floor, and he fell on top of you, causing all the water on the ground to splash onto you two. You could hear him swearing under his breath, his eyebrows slightly furrowed as he stood over you, supporting himself with his hands. "Asshole- look at me. I'm all soaked." But you couldn't answer him, the sound of the rain falling and the water dripping from the ends of his hair onto your cheeks..he just looked so stunning. His wet eyelashes made it hard to see his eyes, but the way he looked at you was priceless. You could see your own reflection in his pupils, and you couldn't help but notice his rising and falling chest. Your body was moving without you realizing it, your hands cupping his cheeks as you lowered his face towards yours, letting your lips taste each other. His cold lips were trembling against your warm ones. You couldn't hear any sounds, as if he had forgotten to breathe. After you pulled away, he just stared at you. He stared at you in surprise for a few seconds, as if he hadn't kissed you before.

"..Holy shit, dude." Your cheeks quickly begin to heat up as you realize what you've done. You pull yourself up and try to stand up. "Oh god- S-sorry. It just, happened. I swear-" He responded with a mocking look at you as his hands rested next to your shoulders. "Yeah?" "Y-yeah! Please just forget about it, youjustlookedsogood, I couldn't-"

"Shut up and get in the car, dude."

"Okay.."

When you two got into the car, you felt very strange in the seat next to you, a feeling like you were never close before filled you. Nam-gyu’s voice makes you swallow your words as you were taking a deep breath to explain yourself. "It was obvious that you were interested in that kind of shit but, fuck dude. I didn't think you would do it with me." "Huh?" "I mean, even your look gives it away." The words hit you in the face as if you had been beaten. You felt like you were sinking into the ground as you stared at him with your pupils constricted. Nam-gyu lets out a sigh of relief, combing his hair back with one hand as he smiles at you sarcastically. "Hah..did you like it though?" "What?" "The kiss." Pursing his lips, he makes a kissing sound, and responds to you by tilting his head to the side. "You liked it?" You don’t answer him and just stare at the side window of the car. An embarrassed expression covers your face as you realize he's muttering something under his breath.

"We still have time..wanna do it?"

"..Do what?"

You understood right after that second what he meant with the sly look he threw at you. He was fucking hard. When you came home you were not only wet but also... sticky. You limped a little as you walked into the your apartment, the scene in the car coming back to you as you noticed the sticky liquid on your t-shirt, and the corner of your lip was still bleeding slightly. "Did you really have to bit my lip..that hard?" "It's ridiculous that you talk as if your voices didn't fill the car." "Shut up!" After playfully punching him on the shoulder, you left to take a shower. When you looked at yourself in the mirror in your bedroom, you felt your eyes flutter for a moment. But you ignored it and headed towards the bathroom anyway. As you can imagine, this wasn't your first time. He would try to have a quickie with you whenever he got the chance. And you were completely off your medication. Other than taking pills just to sleep, you wouldn't take anything else except the pills Nam-gyu gave you. And your relationship continued like this for a few months. During that time Nam-gyu 'borrowed' a lot of money from you. Not enough to put you in debt but.. there wasn't nothing he wouldn't do to get high. But as your relationship became more formal..you felt like people were starting to judge you. Not for being with a man, but for being with him. Almost everyone who knew him was astonished and asked how you managed to endure him. I mean..yeah he wasn't the best. But he had taken your first time and you had never felt this comfortable with anyone before. Plus, even if you were physically shit, he made you feel good. Was that even possible?

You even got matching tattoos together. He got a butterfly tattoo and you got a bloody rose tattoo to represent him. He always loved your chest. The feeling of being able to feel your bones when he touched it gave him a pleasure he couldn't describe. That's why you had it done on the left side of your chest. He had it done on his left arm, so that it would be visible, like the other tattoos. But all good things must come to an end, right? Especially if you're not a healthy person. Even though you liked how it was.. sometimes your body couldn't handle it. Pushing yourself too hard would make you feel weak in the coming days.

Because of this, you couldn't even see Nam-gyu at all sometimes, you couldn't even reply to his messages. You had become unable to leave your house. You had to give up your beloved cat to your friend and go back on your medication to get better. You were so glad your partner cared about you. You even felt guilty at times because you felt like a burden to him. But...the things you heard about him were starting to make you doubt yourself. And that one voice message you heard was the final straw.

"Him? Yeah, he feels good and all, but...sometimes you know. I feel like a woman would be good too."

That voice message your friend sent you left you shaking in your bed. The fact that it was a drunk voice message tore you apart even more. Maybe he didn't mean it like that? He's doing something to get high almost every night anyway, so maybe he's not talking about you- or maybe he's faking it or something? But him calling you out of the blue in the morning corrected your suspicions. Actually, you had already confirmed this with the message your friend sent you at night. 'I told you so. You can't trust him at all..' You don't answer his phone at first, but then you notice the message he sent you in your notifications. He was asking if you were home. Of course you were home.. But you didn't want to look at his message. You weren't in the mood to talk right now and especially didn't want to hear his voice. How could you trust him now? How could you know he wouldn't lie to stay with you? This time he called you again. When you answered he spoke in a louder tone than you intended. "What the fuck do you think you're doing by not answering your phone, motherfucker?" "I don't wanna talk." "NAH. You're gonna talk. I'm almost at your apartment- don't make me open the door." His voice sounded like he was growling at you, it was obvious that he was mad. You panic when the phone is hung up on you, and as scenarios run through your mind about what he was planning to do, you jump out of your bed when you hear a knock on the door. Swallowing hard, you walked towards the door without bothering to ask who is it. It was obvious who it was anyway. Nam-gyu’s hand grabs the edge of the door as you nervously open it, making you flinch. As you back away from the door, he walks in, closing the door behind him.

"To the living room, now." You frown at him and direct your steps towards the living room. He watches you sit on the couch as he throws his phone on one of the couches. Nam-gyu doesn’t say anything at first as he stands, cracking his knuckles. "The worst shit always happens to me, fucking god."

"But you were the one who said those things?" "And?" Was he serious about what he said just now..He didn't even deny what he said. "You know, you said you didn't want to be with ME- after everything I had done for you!" You shifted your position on the couch and raised your tone towards him. You had every right to be as angry as you wanted right now.

Rolling his eyes, he put a hand over his mouth and sighed as he gave you an answer. "Don't act like I've never done anything to you, now..." He continued, his voice softer. "You know how I am with other people...we were just messing around, I was drunk." You didn't want to answer him. You chose to stay silent. Maybe what he meant wasn't such a bad thing after all?He approached you with his expression unchanging, one hand on the couch and the other holding the end of your hair as he spoke in a low tone. "Yes, yes.. you're always right pretty boy. Forgive me, let's forget about that, yeah?" You knew exactly what he was doing. He didn't even try to cover up what he was doing..

You responded with a tone that indicated that it was unintentional. He might have the upper hand over you, but that didn't always mean you would obey him. "Really? Isn't that what you always do... to make up for your mistakes by covering them with the pleasure you give me?" You clearly hear him click his tongue, and he bites his lip lightly, showing you that signature smile again. ".. Exactly, you know me so well..I'm kind of embarrassed." His hands have already moved down to your thighs before you even notice. His eyes slowly drift down as his thumbs play with the elastic of your sweatpants. "Come on...just for this once. You know how much I love you, right?" Oh how you loved his words..his choice of words was driving you crazy. It was like all your anger was gone in an instant. You took a deep breath and mumbled one last sentence under your breath.

"Y-you're right.." As your eyes follow his fingers, you watch the sweatpants fall down from your waist. He lowers his hand, which was playing with your hair to your chest, making you lean back into the couch.

"..But I should admit. I hate how you can do both." His breathing becomes heavy as his eyes roam over your bare skin, and he says the words in between breaths. "Hate how you're pretty as a woman and..attractive as a man. I can feel drunk just by looking at you." You were melting under his touch and words, he must have noticed you were getting hard because he already had you in his grasp. Nam-gyu felt himself harden as the tiny moans coming out of your mouth filled his ears. He pulls his hand from your tent and lays you down completely on the couch, your arms falling around your face as you suddenly feel his hardness against yours. One hand cups your face to brush the hair off your forehead, while the other runs across your bare skin.

"What do you think..will you last for a few rounds?" You turn your face to the side, not wanting to make eye contact during it. "..Maybe." but he stops you with his hand and whispers one last thing.

"Nuh uh..don't take your charming eyes off me..pretty boy."

okay so ngl i wanted to add MOREE stuff, but i choosed today as the deadline cuz of the date..haha..anyway. please tell me if there's any typos cuz, no proofread..

[georgeweasleyslostearhq]

WILD CHILD KISSES

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Fem! Summary: Eddie's finally told he'll be graduating, but his spotlight is soon shadowed after a certain event is coming up. Warnings: mentions of drinking, flirting, tears, kissing. A/N: this is also kind of a warning, I am not American/ do not live there, therefore I do not know how your schooling day works, I have searched it up but there is no clear answer that will help me, so I shall continue to set it up the way my school does here in Australia, which is 2 periods, then 20 minute recess, then 1-2 periods, 40 minute lunch, then 1-2 periods.

buckle up, this is a long one. sorry. 7.3k

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Prev < > Next

Series Masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Eddie Munson had spent the better part of the last three years sitting in this very chair, staring at the principal’s desk like it was some medieval execution block. He’d been here so many times he had the wood grain of the desk practically memorized. Detentions, lectures, warnings- all of it leading up to the same crushing reality year after year.

But this time? This time was different.

Principal Higgins let out a sigh, rubbing his temple like the news physically pained him to deliver. “Against all odds, Munson, it appears you’ve finally done enough to graduate.”

Eddie blinked. He was sure he’d heard wrong. “What?”

Higgins folded his hands atop his desk. “You passed, Munson. By the skin of your teeth, but you did it. You’ll be getting your diploma with the rest of your class.”

A slow grin spread across Eddie’s face. He slumped forward, pressing a hand to his chest like he’d just been shot. "you're fuckin' with me, right?"

Higgins cut him off with a dry look. “Language, Mister Munson, and no, it mostly came down to us wanting you out, but you passed, so"

Eddie placed a hand over his chest, right where his heart was and faked a tear, wiping it away with his free hand

"I'm flattered, Higgs, really-" he started before the older man huffed, rolling his eyes at the nickname the teen gave him.

"Yes, yes, now go to recess, boy"

Eddie didn’t need to be told twice.

He shot up from his chair so fast it nearly toppled over, practically sprinting out the door.

The lady at the front desk of the office looked up at the sound of the door slamming but she visibly relaxed when she saw Eddie's wide smile across his face as he almost skipped through the office.

"Farewell, Linda, you lovely old bat!"

The older woman gasped in offense as Eddie rushed past her, practically spinning her in her chair as he runs down the hall to the cafeteria.

He didn’t care that his boots squeaked against the linoleum, that a couple of freshmen nearly flattened themselves against the lockers to avoid being bulldozed. He had only one thought in his mind:

Tell Hellfire.

By the time he burst into the cafeteria, he was breathless, heart pounding like he’d just run a marathon. Quickly spotting his lost sheep at the Hellfire table, he smiled. The guys were mid-conversation, probably about their next campaign, when Eddie slammed his hands down on the table.

“Guess who's graduating"

For a second, silence.

Then, absolute chaos.

Dustin practically fell out of his chair, Jeff and Gareth erupted into cheers, and Mike started laughing like it was the greatest plot twist in history. Gareth, always the most dramatic, actually leaped onto his seat and threw his hands in the air. “WHAT? NO WAY!”

“I know!” Eddie cackled, throwing his arms up, “I thought I was doomed to haunt this hellhole forever, but lo and behold, miracles do exist!”

The guys pounded on the table, throwing their arms around him, shaking him with excitement. It was loud, ridiculous, everything Eddie could’ve hoped for.

And then, you.

You were smiling at him from across the table, bright-eyed, genuine. Like you were actually proud of him. Not just amused, not just surprised- but really, truly happy.

And without thinking, Eddie turned and hugged you.

It wasn’t like the one-armed, casual side-hugs he’d given other people. No, this was different. He wrapped his arms around you fully, pulling you against his chest, his heart still hammering in exhilaration. You smelled like something sweet- maybe it as your shampoo, maybe something you put on that morning. Either way, it was dizzying.

You were taken back at the hug, not sure where all this came from seen as though everything had been awkward between you today until now.

Your mind was tracing back to the almost-kiss yesterday, it made you nervous and weak in the knees every time you thought about it.

And believe me, you tried so hard to not think about it.

Arms wrapping slowly around his torso, you hugged him back.

For a second, it was just nice. Warm. Familiar in a way that made no sense.

But then it must have hit him. The tension.

His breath hitched, and suddenly, it wasn’t just excitement burning under his skin- it was something else. Something more dangerous.

Reality crashed down, and his arms stiffened. He pulled back, just slightly, just enough to put space between you both- but it was too late. The moment had already stretched just a second too long, crossed into something else.

You blinked up at him, still caught in that moment of pure joy, but it was already shifting. Already becoming something awkward.

Eddie swallowed hard, suddenly unsure of where to put his hands, what to do with himself. His voice came out rough, unsteady. “Uh… sorry.”

And then, before he could look at you again, before he could see whatever expression you were making, he turned away, rubbing the back of his neck like it never happened.

The Hellfire guys were still talking, still cheering, still high on the energy of the moment. None of them had noticed the weird shift between Eddie and you. But you noticed. He knew you did.

You were still standing there, arms now folded over your chest, watching him like you were trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.

Eddie didn’t want to figure it out. Not right now.

So, he did what he did best.

He played it off.

“So,” he said, clearing his throat, forcing a cocky smirk. “Who’s throwing me a graduation party?”

Dustin immediately started rambling about how they had to do something legendary, and just like that, the conversation shifted. The guys took the bait, launching into plans, joking about how Eddie had to go out with a bang.

But across the table, you were still watching him, your gaze unreadable.

And Eddie? He felt like his stomach was in knots.

Because for the first time, he wasn’t just trying to ignore the tension.

He was afraid of what it might mean. 

It made you wonder if he really meant what he said- what he admitted to, last night.

Did he like you? did he really like you?

The bell rang, cutting through the chaos of the cafeteria. Eddie glanced around, the guys still animatedly discussing plans for his "legendary" graduation party, but the noise felt distant now. He glanced back at you, still standing there, arms crossed over your chest, looking like you didn’t know whether to stay or go.

"Guess we better get to class," Eddie muttered, his words a little too casual, though his heart was pounding in his chest. He tried to act like nothing had shifted, but he could feel it. You felt it too. Didn’t you?

You nodded, but the hesitation in your step matched his, like neither of you was quite ready for what came next. You pushed your chair back, and Eddie mirrored your movements, both of you standing awkwardly, not sure if you should say anything else.

The silence stretched between you as you both started walking toward the door. Eddie’s boots clicked on the linoleum, his pace a little faster than normal. He didn’t want to rush, but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t keep the anxious energy from bubbling up inside him. Every now and then, he’d glance at you- just a quick look, but long enough to see the way you quickly turned your gaze elsewhere.

And then, he’d steal another glance, the second one always a little longer, like he was trying to figure out if you felt the same tightness in your chest, the same unease that was gnawing at him.

"So… you're finally graduating, huh?" You finally said, your voice a little quieter than usual, like you were trying to convince yourself it wasn’t all just some dream.

“Yeah…” Eddie said with a small laugh, rubbing the back of his neck, his fingers trembling slightly. “I still don’t know if I believe it, honestly. It’s like someone’s pulling a prank on me, but… here we are.”

He was trying to make light of it, but the truth was, his chest was full of nerves. What if this- what if everything- was just him imagining it all? His mind kept cycling back to the moment you hugged him. That warmth, that connection, that feeling of having you pressed against him—it wasn’t like anything else.

But what did it mean? Was it just excitement, or was it something more? Was it possible that you felt the same way?

Eddie couldn’t keep himself from glancing over at you again, and this time, when his eyes met yours, his breath caught. For just a fraction of a second, everything in him wanted to step closer, to close the gap, but he held back. He couldn’t push it. He wasn’t even sure what ‘it’ was yet.

You weren’t looking at him anymore. Instead, your eyes were fixed straight ahead, but Eddie could see the subtle way your lips pressed together, like you were thinking about something, something important. He felt a pang in his chest, the realization that you might not be as sure about all of this as he was.

Your voice broke through his thoughts again. “I’m glad you are, though, took you long enough”

Eddie blinked, surprised. The way you said it, your tone so genuine, it made his heartbeat even faster. It felt like you were saying more than just what you meant, like there was something else there, something he had to pull out of you, but he didn’t know how.

He offered a small, sheepish grin, rubbing the back of his neck again. “Yeah… I’m glad too.”

There it was. That moment when everything felt like it was about to tip over the edge. Eddie didn’t know what to do with the way his pulse was racing, the way his thoughts kept spiraling back to you, to what had happened at the table, to everything that might happen next. What was he supposed to say? What if you didn’t feel the same way?

The hallway felt strangely smaller now, like the space between you both had been shrinking with every step, and Eddie had no idea how to fix it.

You were still walking beside him, your steps so quiet compared to his, but every time he glanced over, your eyes seemed to flick back to him before you quickly turned away. He could tell you were nervous, just as unsure as he was. And that made it worse, because if you were thinking the same things he was, then what?

He couldn’t just keep pretending like it wasn’t happening. He couldn’t keep pretending that every time you looked at him, his heart didn’t race.

The classroom door loomed ahead, and you both hesitated before stepping through, but Eddie didn’t want to stop walking. He didn’t want the moment to end. He didn’t want to face the reality that he might be the only one who felt this strange, burning thing between you two.

He followed you into the classroom, taking his seat beside you. There was still too much space between you both. It wasn’t enough to feel close, but it was too much to ignore. Every glance, every shift in position made his stomach twist in a way that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

And every time his eyes met yours, all he could think was: Does she know? Does she feel it too? Or am I just reading too much into this?

You met his gaze once more, and for a split second, everything seemed to pause- his heart in his throat, your eyes wide with something unreadable. And then the moment passed, just like that, leaving Eddie both relieved and disappointed all at once.

He smiled awkwardly, looking away, trying to focus on anything but how badly he wanted to say something, anything, that could break the silence that was threatening to crush him.

But for now, neither of you spoke. And Eddie wondered if maybe he was the only one who was brave enough to admit it.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Third period zoomed past, you and Eddie making a few comments on the work here and there, but it was mostly laid back as the end of school was only a week away, teachers slacking off and letting the kids do whatever.

The hallway erupted with noise as students spilled into the corridors. You and Eddie stepped out together, moving in the same direction toward the cafeteria. Neither of you spoke at first. You had walked with Eddie plenty of times before, but today, it felt different- charged with something unspoken.

The walls were lined with prom posters, bright colors and glitter catching the fluorescent light as you passed. PROM: A NIGHT TO REMEMBER! in bold letters, surrounded by stars and hearts.

You frowned at first, knowing that all these decorations were not up an hour when you entered this class. So, there had to be a handful of people to decorate every hall and corridor in an hour.

Prom, yes, everyone was already talking about, for at least 2 months now, but these decorations make everyone's eyes light up and smile-

But your stomach twisted. You could feel Eddie glance at you, but by the time you turned to meet his eyes, he was already looking away.

He was acting weird. But so were you.

Your fingers tightened around the strap of your bag. Would he ask you? He had confessed yesterday, hadn’t he? It wasn’t a dream, wasn’t some drunken mistake. He liked you. So why hadn’t he said anything about prom?

You stole another glance at him, catching the way he ran a hand through his curls, looking everywhere but at you. The usual easy-going, over-the-top Eddie Munson was nowhere to be found. Instead, the boy walking next to you was fidgety, lost in thought.

And truthfully? So were you.

Maybe he doesn’t like me after all.

The idea had been creeping into your mind all morning. If he really wanted to go with you, wouldn’t he have asked by now? Maybe the almost-kiss yesterday didn’t mean anything to him. Maybe he regretted telling you how he felt. Maybe he just said it because he thought you needed to hear it.

You felt something heavy settle in your chest.

Eddie, meanwhile, was caught in his own storm of thoughts. He wanted to ask you. Hell, he’d spent all morning thinking about it, trying to work up the nerve. But the words never made it past his lips.

Because deep down, he knew the truth.

She wouldn’t want to go with me.

You were you, and he was him. The town freak. The guy everyone whispered about in the halls, the one teachers sighed over, the one the jocks mocked for sport. What would it look like if you showed up at prom with him? What would people say about you?

Besides, if you did like him- if you really liked him- you would’ve said something by now. Right? You would have said so yesterday, when he told you. You wouldn’t just sit there, waiting. You would’ve told him.

Which meant you didn’t.

And that was that.

So he stayed quiet, shoving his hands deep into his pockets as the two of you pushed through the cafeteria doors.

The Hellfire table was already buzzing with conversation. The usual chaos of lunch was in full swing- trays clattering, voices overlapping- but today, there was one subject dominating the table: prom.

"Okay, but hear me out," Dustin was saying, practically bouncing in his seat. "I think prom could actually be cool if they had, like, a real band instead of some cheesy DJ."

"You can’t even go, Henderson," Gareth pointed out, rolling his eyes. "You’re a freshman. None of us are seniors except Eddie and Jeff"

That was when Dustin’s eyes landed on the two of you. A slow, knowing grin stretched across his face. "Speaking of which-" he turned to you, practically vibrating with excitement. "Did Eddie ask you to prom?"

The words hit you like a slap.

Your heart leaped into your throat, cheeks flushing with heat. It was such a sudden question, so blunt, that for half a second, you couldn’t even react. Your eyes darted to Eddie on instinct, searching for something- some sign of an answer, some confirmation that, yes, of course he was going to ask you-

But Eddie wasn’t looking at you.

He was staring at Dustin like the kid had just lit a stick of dynamite and tossed it onto the table. His face drained of color, his mouth opening and closing uselessly.

"No!" he blurted, voice cracking slightly. "No, I-uh-no, I didn’t-"

He was stammering.

The breath you didn’t realize you were holding slipped out in a quiet exhale, and something cold settled in your stomach.

Oh.

The disappointment hit you harder than expected, like a weight pressing down on your chest.

Dustin, completely oblivious, laughed. "Dude, why not? You like her, right?"

You froze.

Eddie froze.

The table went quiet.

Eddie let out a strangled laugh, running a hand down his face. "Henderson-shut up." His voice was strained, panicked.

Dustin blinked, confused for half a second before realization dawned on his face. "Oh." His eyes widened slightly. "Wait, she doesn’t know?"

You felt your breath hitch.

Oh, you know, you just didn't know anyone else- the whole of Hellfire- knew.

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut like he wanted the earth to swallow him whole. "Jesus Christ," he muttered under his breath before turning to you, finally meeting your gaze.

For a second, neither of you spoke.

Your heart was hammering in your chest. His confession from yesterday flashed in your mind. You knew he liked you. He had told you. So why was he acting like this? Why was he shutting it down like it wasn’t even an option?

The way he was looking at you- like he knew he just messed up, like he knew you were hurt but didn’t know how to fix it- made your stomach twist even more.

You swallowed hard, forcing a tight-lipped smile as you pushed your chair back. "I’m gonna grab some lunch."

Your voice was quieter than you wanted it to be.

You didn’t wait for a response. You just stood up and walked away.

You heard Eddie shift beside you, like he was about to say something, but he didn’t.

Because what could he say?

The noise of the cafeteria faded into background static as you moved toward the lunch line, your mind racing.

You had thought- hoped- maybe he would ask. Maybe last night meant something. Maybe he meant it when he said he liked you.

But now? Now you weren’t sure anymore.

And Eddie- Eddie just sat there, staring after you, hands clenched into fists beneath the table.

He wanted to go with you. God, he wanted to.

But he had a feeling he just ruined everything.

And the worst part?

He had no idea how to fix it.

By the time you returned to the Hellfire table, tray in hand, the conversation had fizzled out. The guys had sensed the shift in energy- how the excitement over prom had suddenly turned into something way more awkward-

And one by one, they had made their exits. Even Dustin, who normally lacked any kind of social awareness, had mumbled something about needing to grab a book from his locker before practically running off.

So now, it was just you and Eddie.

Alone.

He was still sitting in the same spot, hunched forward with his arms resting on the table, fingers tapping restlessly against the wood. You sat down across from him, trying to ignore the way your heart twisted at the sight of him- how his usual confidence had been drained from his posture, how his brows were slightly furrowed like he was deep in thought.

For a minute, neither of you spoke.

You focused on your tray, picking at your food without really eating. You could feel Eddie watching you, could practically hear the wheels turning in his head as he struggled for the right words.

Finally, he cleared his throat.

"Uh- so- " He ran a hand through his curls, letting out a sharp breath. "That was… a whole thing, huh?"

You didn’t look up. "Yep."

Eddie winced at your clipped tone. He hesitated, then leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice. "Look, Dustin’s just- he’s an idiot, alright? He doesn’t know when to shut up."

You shrugged, still not meeting his eyes. "I don’t care."

Eddie blinked, caught off guard by how casual you sounded. He had expected you to be mad, or embarrassed, or something- but not this. Not this calm, unaffected brush-off.

"You don’t care?" He repeated slowly, testing the words like they didn’t make sense.

"Yeah," you said simply, finally looking up. "I mean, it’s not like I wanted to go with you anyway."

That was a lie.

But the words came out so easily. So effortlessly. Like they were true.

Eddie barely had time to mask his reaction.

It was quick- just a flicker of something in his expression, something unguarded and sharp, like your words had landed right where it hurt.

He covered it up almost instantly, forcing a chuckle as he leaned back in his seat. "Right," he said, nodding. "Of course. Why would you, right?"

You could tell he was trying to play it off, trying to act like it didn’t matter.

But you knew Eddie well enough to know when something did matter.

And this?

This did.

But you didn’t take it back.

You just smiled, small and polite, before returning your attention to your tray.

Eddie watched you for a moment longer, his fingers still tapping anxiously against the table.

Then, with a barely audible sigh, he slumped back against his chair, staring up at the ceiling like he had just royally screwed up.

Because maybe, just maybe, he had.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The parking lot was loud with the usual after-school chaos- cars starting up, doors slamming, groups of students lingering to chat before heading home.

Eddie stood by his van, hands shoved deep in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels. His stomach was a mess of nerves, though he’d never admit it. He had been waiting—hoping—you’d show up.

And then, finally, you did.

You were walking towards the buses, books hugged to your chest, brows slightly furrowed like your mind was somewhere else entirely.

He hesitated for half a second, then pushed off the side of his van, striding over to you.

“Hey,” he called, trying to sound casual, like he hadn’t been waiting for you.

You glanced up, a little surprised. “Hey.”

Eddie rubbed the back of his neck.

“So, uh, the guys are heading to my place. Y’know, to celebrate my miraculous academic achievement.” He smirked, tilting his head. “Figured I’d give you a ride.”

Your grip on your books tightened. “Oh- I, um- I actually have something to do.”

Eddie frowned. “What?”

You shifted your weight, glancing toward your car like you were in a hurry. “Yeah, I just- I can’t make it. Sorry.”

Eddie blinked, caught off guard. He had been so sure you’d come.

He forced a chuckle. “C’mon, what could possibly be more important than celebrating me finally getting out of that godforsaken school?”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “I just-”

“Please?” Eddie’s voice softened, and something about it made you freeze.

He wasn’t just asking. He was really asking.

Like he needed you there.

You looked up at him, at the hopeful, almost nervous glint in his eyes.

And just like that, your excuse- your whole plan to put some distance between you two- crumbled.

You sighed. “Fine.”

Eddie’s face lit up. “Really?”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, Munson. You win.”

Eddie grinned, stepping back and gesturing toward the van with a dramatic bow. “Then hop in, sweetheart.”

And God help you.

Your stomach flipped, your breath hitched, and for a second, the world tilted just slightly.

That stupid nickname.

He said it like it was nothing, like it didn’t curl around you, warm and teasing, making your heart stutter in your chest.

Like it didn’t make you feel dizzy in the worst- and best- way.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to play it off, to act like that one word didn’t shake you to your core.

And despite everything- the tension, the confusion, the ache in your chest from earlier- you found yourself smiling as you followed him.

Because, really, how could you ever say no to Eddie Munson?

The guy that's been driving you crazy as of late, the guy you can't get out of your head. It was nothing but unfair, really.

Eventually, the van rattled to a stop in front of the trailer, the familiar sight of Forest Hills mobile homes stretching out under the dimming afternoon sky. The drive had been… mostly quiet, filled with a comfortable kind of tension that neither of you had tried to break. The radio had been the only real sound between you, some old rock ballad playing low through the speakers, but even then, neither of you had been really listening.

Eddie pulled the keys from the ignition, glancing at you before shoving the door open.

You followed him up the steps, the screen door creaking as he pushed it open. The moment you stepped inside, you were hit with the familiar scent of coffee and the faintest trace of cigarette smoke.

And there he was, sprawled out on the couch with a cup of coffee in one hand, his other resting on his stomach. He barely glanced up from the newspaper at first.

Then he saw you.

And the absolute shit-eating grin that took over his face was so immediate, so smug, you almost took a step back.

“Well, well,” Wayne drawled, folding the paper and setting it aside. His eyes flicked between you and Eddie, like he already knew something neither of you were saying. “Second day in a row, huh? Should I be expectin’ you tomorrow too?”

Your face burned instantly.

“Oh- uh-” You opened your mouth, but no words came out.

Eddie groaned, rubbing his face with both hands. “Jesus Christ, Wayne.”

Wayne smirked, sipping his coffee like he wasn’t watching you both squirm. “I’m just sayin’- you never bring anyone over, and now suddenly I got a guest two days in a row? Feels like I should be puttin’ out another dinner plate.”

Eddie huffed. “She’s not- ” He stopped himself, shaking his head. “Forget it. Can we not make this weird?”

Wayne just chuckled, but the teasing gleam in his eyes never faded.

Eddie sighed and flopped into the recliner, rubbing a hand over his face. “Look, I brought her here so we can celebrate, old man.”

Wayne raised a brow. “Celebrate?”

Eddie leaned forward, his grin almost boyish. “I’m graduating.”

For a second, Wayne didn’t react. Just blinked.

Then, slowly, his expression shifted, the teasing melting away into something softer.

“Say that again?”

Eddie’s grin widened. “I’m graduating, Wayne. Like, officially. No more repeating senior year, no more Higgins breathing down my neck. I’m done.”

Wayne set his coffee down, staring at Eddie like he had just grown a second head. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

And then, before Eddie could react, Wayne was up- clapping him on the shoulder, gripping the back of his neck in one of those rough, affectionate gestures only Wayne Munson could pull off.

“Goddamn, Ed,” he muttered, his voice gruff. “You really did it.”

Eddie laughed, leaning into the touch like he was twelve again and just scored a home run at some little league game. “Told ya I would.”

Wayne huffed. “You told me that two years ago, and I stopped believin’ ya after the second time.” But his voice was warm, proud.

Your heart clenched a little, watching the moment unfold.

Eddie was trying to play it cool, but you could see it—the way his shoulders relaxed, the way he ducked his head slightly, like that small bit of approval from Wayne meant the world to him.

Which, knowing Eddie, it probably did.

Wayne turned to you suddenly, pointing a finger. “And you- you keepin’ him outta trouble, or are you the one gettin’ him into it?”

Eddie cackled. “Oh, definitely the second one.”

You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling.

Wayne smirked. “That’s what I thought.”

And just like that, he clapped Eddie on the back one last time before heading for the kitchen. “I got a couple beers in the fridge. You want one?”

Eddie grinned. “Hell yes, I—”

Wayne shot him a look before looking at you, to which you nodded slowly.

Wayne snorted but grabbed a couple of drinks anyway, muttering something about damn kids under his breath.

You just shook your head, sitting down on the couch while Eddie kicked his boots off and sprawled out beside you.

And for the first time all day, it felt like maybe- just maybe- things didn’t have to be so complicated.

Wayne handed each of you a beer, the cold condensation dripping onto your fingers. He patted Eddie on the back, a proud smile creasing his weathered face.

"Well, I gotta get ready for work in about an hour, so we can celebrate tomorrow, ay?" He glanced over at you, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "And I assume you'll be there too?"

You felt your cheeks flush, and you quickly looked down at your feet, suddenly finding your worn-out shoes incredibly fascinating.

"Wayne—" Eddie began, his voice tinged with embarrassment.

But his uncle cut him off with a chuckle. "—so that's a yes?"

You couldn't help but feel the flutter in your chest at the idea of being invited to another hangout, but it left you a little nervous, too.

Eddie sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "We'll see, Wayne. Don't scare her off before then."

Wayne laughed, clearly enjoying the moment. "Alright, alright. I'll leave you kids to it."

As he walked away, you dared to glance at Eddie. He met your eyes, a small smile tugging at his lips. The air between you both felt thick with the unspoken.

"Sorry about him," Eddie muttered, his tone more sheepish than usual.

You shook your head, offering him a soft smile. "It’s alright. He’s... nice."

Eddie returned your smile, and for a brief moment, the world outside the trailer seemed to blur. There was something warm in the way he looked at you, like you mattered to him. But before it could linger too long, he cleared his throat.

"Wanna go to my room?"

You nodded. "Sure."

Eddie led the way, his boots echoing in the narrow hallway. His room came into view, posters of bands covering the walls, and an old guitar standing proudly in the corner. You stepped inside, your eyes scanning the space. It was exactly how you'd imagined-

Chaotic and full of character.

You stopped just inside the door as Eddie turned to face you, but before either of you could speak, Wayne's voice cut through the air from the kitchen.

"Better keep that door open!"

You and Eddie exchanged confused glances.

"Why?" Eddie asked, his tone laced with annoyance.

Wayne leaned against the doorway, a shit-eating grin on his face. "Don’t pretend what I walked in on you two doing yesterday didn’t happen. I don’t wanna be a grandpa just yet, boy."

Your heart jumped in your chest, your face burning with embarrassment. "We didn’t-"

Eddie’s face turned a deeper shade of red, and he cut you off. "Jesus, Wayne! Nothing happened!"

Wayne laughed, enjoying the discomfort he’d caused. "Just messing with ya. But seriously, door stays open."

Eddie rolled his eyes and led you into his room, leaving the door ajar as Wayne insisted. As soon as you were inside, Eddie dropped his backpack onto the floor with a heavy sigh.

“Sorry about that," Eddie muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "Still think he's nice?"

You laughed, trying to shake off the awkwardness. "Yeah, He's alright"

Eddie collapsed onto his bed, stretching out with a groan as he kicked off his Reeboks. You hesitated for a second, standing in the middle of his room.

The silence between you was comfortable at first, but soon, you felt it shift. The questions you both had about each other lingered in the air.

Eddie finally broke the quiet, his voice low and thoughtful. "so...about yesterday."

Your brow furrowed in confusion as you turned to look at him, a little nervous. "What do you mean?"

Eddie rolled over onto his side, propping himself up with one arm. His eyes flicked to you, and his gaze softened. “I mean... I’ve never really been good at this whole ‘being honest’ thing. But with you? I don’t know, it’s different. I keep thinking about it—about what happened between us, what it means. And it’s weird, but in a good way."

Your heart beat faster, the uncertainty clouding your thoughts. Could he really be saying what you thought he was saying?

Eddie laughed softly, rubbing his face in frustration. "I’m not good at this. But I don’t want you to think I’m just..." He stopped himself, looking over your frame from where you stood

"do you wanna sit?" he patted the spot on his bed beside him, shuffling over.

You looked around before slowly stepping to his bed, shuffling to the wall beside him, when you look up to come face to face, you shuffle away, not realising how close you became.

Clearing your throat, you mumble an apology, but he only stares at you, his eyes soft and warm as he smiles, his dimples on display as he fiddles with his rings.

Your gaze followed down to beside him, where a fluffy brown bear sat lopsided on his pillow.

You smiled and leaned over him.

His breath hitched when he followed over every curve of your body the way your ass stuck in the air and the way your shirt revealed cleavage so dangerous that he had to close his eyes, a cold sweat breaking out as you leaned away to sit back down

"Is this Ozzy?" you beamed brightly when Eddie opened his eyes.

He frowned for a second "how do you know that?"

Eddie never tells anything that personal to anyone- especially you, why would he tell you he still sleeps with a stuffed teddy bear and has a name for him?

With a raised eyebrow you laughed softly "on our da- at the fair... I told you I had a few teddys and you told me you had one"

You played with the worn-out bear in your hands and Eddie felt his heart explode in his chest. He remembers it, and he curses himself for forgetting

"right, yeah" he nodded slowly

"S'pretty worn down" you mumbled, examining the bear

The teddy bear looks like it's been loved for years, its once soft fur is now matted and thin in some places, with patches of faded color. The edges of its ears are frayed, the stitching barely holding on in places where it’s been hugged too tightly over the years.

The eyes are scratched, losing some of its glossy shine. The bear’s nose, once a neat little button, has worn down into a faded stitch, barely visible. Its limbs, though still stuffed, are soft and floppy, having lost the firm structure they once had. the bow around its neck stained and ripped. There’s a small tear on its side, the fabric worn thin, but it’s been lovingly stitched back together- a sign of years of comfort, care, and maybe a few bumps along the way.

Despite the wear, it still carries that comforting, familiar scent of childhood- a mix of dust, warmth, and a little bit of home.

Eddie chuckled lowly "yeah...well, s'about fifteen years old so..."

"Mm. Ozzy hasn't been making music for that long, though" you pointed out

"Yeahhh. I only named him when I was...thirteen?" he smiled, looking and loving the way you handled him with care "don't know... Mum tried to think of names but...none of them really felt like him..."

You looked over at him, finding his gaze stuck on the teddy, eyes hung low, rested.

"So, your mum gave him to you?" You spoke, handing it to him.

He smiled, nodding, letting the bear sit in his lap as he brought his knees up.

"yeah...she saved up for months to afford him...she tried to make that birthday so special...I remember dad getting mad when I opened it, he didn't want her spending so much money of a stupid gift for 'girls'" he laughed humourlessly.

"but it was one of the best gifts I've gotten ever...mum always treated us like brothers because that's what I wanted her to do...dad thought it was stupid though; he hid him for about 2 months before mum found him and gave him back..."

When the first tear fell you rushed to brush it away gently. He shook his head, putting the bear beside him as he cleared his throat.

With a sip of his beer, he sighed, leaning his head on the wall as he looked forward.

The room was silent for a few moments. You take the time to look around the room, really look.

The Corroded Coffin banner above your head and the pictures that look like they have been ripped out of a magazine scattered on the walls. Clothes piled in the corner of the room, random trinkets all over the floor, it was so Eddie.

He sat up with a groan, going to his CD collection in his desk, right below his guitar that's hung up against his mirror "music?"

With a quick nod, you looked at the options he handed you. finding a bunch of covers that look straight out of a horror film, but your eyes wandered to the orange and yellow CD, one that looks familiar and frowned

"I know Metal freaks you out" he chuckled lightly "but it's the only music I have"

You remember, the music store where you had been caught looking at that exact album.

He saw your gaze on W.A.S.P the last command and smiled "still fascinated by it?"

Before you could respond, he placed the disc in the player and the blasting of music came on.

The first notes hit, and your chest tightened instantly. It was loud- the kind of loud that filled every inch of space, that crawled under your skin and took over your heartbeat.

The guitar riff tore through the air, sharp and reckless, and when the drums kicked in, you swore you felt them in your ribs. The sheer force of it had you frozen, your hands gripping the edge of Eddie’s bed as if the sound alone might knock you back.

Then the voice came in.

"I ride, I ride the winds that bring the rain…"

Your breath caught, pulse stuttering. The way he sang- gritty, hungry, like every word was bitten off with sharp teeth. You swallowed hard, your heart hammering against your ribs as you listened.

Eddie was watching you.

You felt it before you even turned your head. He was leaning back, one arm draped over his knee, the other lazily tapping a rhythm against his thigh. His rings caught the dim light of the room, glinting as his fingers moved.

But his eyes?

His eyes were on you.

"A creature of love and I can’t be tamed…"

Heat crept up your neck, a flood of goosebumps creeping their way onto your skin.

You weren’t sure if it was the song or the way Eddie looked at you, but something in your stomach flipped, twisting tighter with every second.

The chorus hit, bursting through the speakers like a wildfire.

"I’m a wild child, come and love me…"

Your hands clenched into fists.

It was so blatant, so bold, like the song wasn’t even trying to hide what it was about. It wasn’t sweet, wasn’t careful- it was raw, unashamed, hungry.

And Eddie was still watching you.

His gaze flickered, his lips twitching into something almost knowing. Like he could see the way your fingers curled in your lap, like he knew exactly what kind of effect the music was having on you.

You tore your eyes away, staring at the stereo instead.

"I need you to touch me… ‘Cause I want what you do to me…"

You exhaled shakily.

It wasn’t just the lyrics. It was the way the guitars screamed, the way the drums crashed like a thunderstorm, the way every single note was laced with something untamed and electric. It sent shivers down your spine.

And the worst part?

You liked it.

Eddie leaned in slightly, voice barely loud enough to hear over the music.

"Not so bad, huh?"

You swallowed, your throat dry.

He was close- closer than before. You could feel the warmth of him, the smell of cigarettes and cheap cologne and something else uniquely Eddie.

Your heart pounded.

You turned your head slowly, meeting his gaze again. He was grinning now, lazy and pleased, like he could feel your nervous energy crackling in the air between you.

You had no idea if he was thinking about the song’s lyrics. If he was thinking about how they fit.

But you were.

As the song swelled, the raw, electric energy filled the small room, pressing in on you from all sides. The words pulsed in your veins, the heavy beat vibrating through your bones.

"I’m a wild child, come and love me… I want you…"

Eddie was still watching you.

Your heart was racing. Not just from the music. Not just from the way it shook the walls and the floor beneath you. But from him. From the way he was looking at you- eyes half-lidded, like he was memorizing every part of this moment.

You could barely breathe.

And then, as the chorus hit again, as the song begged and burned, you turned your head just as he did.

Your noses brushed.

For a split second, neither of you moved. Just hovered there, inches apart, the music crashing around you, your breaths uneven.

Then Eddie whispered, "Sweetheart..."

You didn’t think. You just moved.

Your lips met his- tentative, hesitant- But as soon as you felt the warmth of his mouth, the way he sucked in a sharp breath, you knew there was no stopping it.

Eddie made a noise in the back of his throat- something between a groan and a sigh, relief and desperation tangled together. His hand lifted, fingers tangling in the back of your hair as he pulled you closer, deepening it.

The song roared around you.

"A naked heat machine, I want your love!"

Your stomach flipped as his lips moved against yours, slow but sure, like he’d been waiting for this. And God, maybe you had too. Maybe that’s why it felt so dizzying, so right.

You kissed each other like you were both afraid it wasn't real.

When you finally broke apart, you opened your eyes.

And you found that you weren't kissing him.

Instead, you were in his van, music blaring in your ears as he drove you to his trailer, talking about his graduation party, and you? you were imagining kissing him for the 100th time this evening.

God, you're so hooked screwed.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Ha. you really thought? sorry.

Taglist:

Taglist:

@exploding-bonbon  @xlostitx  @pupwrites  @carolineesnell  @foreveranexpatsposts  @itsmadamehydra  @thedoubleexposurephotography  @g3n3zshack  @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable  @emxxblog  @nubedeoctubreval  @bimboshaggy  @sheneedsrocknroll92  @callmytherapistplease-blog  @ifeelbadbutimhot  @littlemissholy  @sammybrrr  @alastorssimp @e-c-a-r-l-a-t-e

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

[utterlyvertigo]

A Mother’s Intuition…

“Surprise, my lady!” The sarcastic undertone gave Rio the air of wanting to be pummelled into the leaves. Agatha ripped the flower from her hand and slung it onto the road’s murky floor. Agatha went to scream, but it was interrupted by a low rumbling from the earth. Jen was the first to notice a hand, it grasped at Rio’s ankle. She audibly yelped and jumped back. The hand was bony, but youthful, its nails overdue a new coat of polish. The figure who pulls herself up appeared to be young, somewhere older than "Teen", yet clearly younger than Alice. “You bitch!” Agatha screamed upon recognising the figure, and she dove towards Rio, only to be held back by the rest of the coven, pleading desperately for Agatha to stay calm.

Rio picks the dropped flower up and offers a hand up to the girl. In what was likely an attempt to soften the blow of the situation, the girl addresses the rest of the coven. “I suppose two heads are better than one?” Agatha wasn’t soothed, she was agape. Then washed with emotion. Agatha took the girl into her arms. “Cassandra.” She greeted. Mere seconds later, she strode off in a tantrum.

“I thought you’d said she gave up her child?” Teen whispered to Jen, his tone unintentionally accusatory. “She gave her son up. That’s her daughter. Nobody touches a hair on that girls head. I have no idea why she’s here, what she’s doing.” Jen muttered back. “I… I’m gonna go check on Agatha.

Agatha was a good few boot strides further than expected, attempting to rein in her fury. “The… dangerous and charismatic lady is back. Are you okay…?” Teen asked, tentatively. “She has my daughter. You do the maths!” Agatha snipped. “Nobody "has" me. I’m not a puppy.” Cassandra stated. She’d taken it on herself to follow the boy, seeing as there was nought better to do. They couldn’t progress until Agatha had calmed down. Agatha sighed. “I know that! But did you really have to go to her?” She hissed, sounding remarkably like an oversized toddler requiring a nap.

“You said you’d come find me. After Westview. You never came! You threw me halfway across New Jersey and you never came back.” Cassandra accused, “I went to who I could! And it would have been nice to know who my other parent was seeing as she’s-” “Stop.” Agatha silenced. “She’s what?” Teen asked. Agatha didn’t respond. She kept walking, and the rest of the coven followed suit, Rio skipping happily along, as though this wasn’t some omen of doom. Cassandra knew better than to chase after her mother during a mood like this, so she hung back, letting Teen be the firewall.

Lilia, Alice and Jen had been hanging back too, staying a distance between the others, because of the palpable tension. “Hi…” Cassandra said, laced with clear awkwardness. Jen was the first to mutter a non committal “Hello” back. “So you’re Lilia, Jennifer and Alice, aren’t you?” She questioned. Alice perked up, “How do you know that?” She asked. “Leggings, Lawsuit and your Mother.” Cassandra admitted, respectively gesturing to each witch. “I’m Cassandra… by the way.” She added.

“Ace of Cups.” Lilia muttered.

“Pardon?” Cassandra asked. “She does that sometimes. We don’t really know why. Or where she goes.” Alice whispered, with a kind smile. That didn’t much help, but Cassandra had a feeling questioning anything on the road would end up with the same lack of understanding. So she just nodded.

And they went down down down the road.

————

Hey gang! Whilst we wait for the poll to decide which chapter of lore we’re learning about next, I’ll leave both options in the drafts and give you this little bit of writing. Hope you love it xx

[wittyandobsessed]

𝐈'𝐦 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 | Jack Sparrow x Reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | none.

𝘎𝘪𝘣𝘣𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘛𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘳 ���𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘢 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯.

The Black Pearl sat idle in the harbor, her dark sails resting against the stillness of the afternoon air. Will Turner leaned against a post on the gangplank, arms crossed, watching the woman approaching with a mix of disbelief and cautious curiosity. She moved in a way that defied reason, a sort of confident stagger that somehow kept her upright despite every indication she might tip over at any second.

“Gibbs,” Will murmured, nudging the older man beside him. “She walks like…”

“Jack,” Gibbs finished, squinting at her as if seeing a ghost. “Aye, she does.”

Her attire was as haphazardly theatrical as the man she so eerily resembled—boots scuffed and mismatched, a coat too grand for her frame, and a hat adorned with what looked like a battered seashell tied to a feather. She carried herself like she owned the dock, and perhaps in her mind, she did.

Jack Sparrow, lounging at the rail with one boot propped up and a half-empty bottle of rum in his hand, caught sight of her. His face froze for a moment, his dark eyes narrowing as if he wasn’t entirely sure he wasn’t imagining her. Then, as if struck by some divine inspiration, he stood, dusted himself off, and sauntered down the gangplank.

The woman’s gaze locked on him as she closed the distance. She stopped a few paces away, tilting her head, her grin slow and sharp.

“Well, if it isn’t Jack Sparrow,” she drawled, her voice laced with mockery. “Still breathing, I see. Must be my lucky day.”

“Captain Jack Sparrow,” Jack corrected, tipping his hat with an exaggerated flourish. “And to whom do I owe the pleasure of this most curious encounter?”

She twirled a ring on her finger idly, her grin never faltering. “Captain,” she replied.

“Captain…?” Jack prompted, stepping closer, his hands flitting through the air as if to pull the answer from her.

“Just Captain.”

Jack blinked, his mouth twitching into a bemused smile. “Just Captain?”

“Aye.” She tapped her temple. “Keeps things mysterious. Fewer people to come after me for debts.”

Jack’s eyes lit up as though she’d spoken the sweetest words he’d ever heard. “A woman after my own heart,” he said, his grin widening.

Will groaned quietly, and Gibbs took a swig from his flask.

“Captain Sparrow,” she said, stepping closer and giving him a once-over. “Rumor has it you’re the second-best pirate in the Caribbean.”

Jack’s jaw dropped, his hands flying up in protest. “Second?!” he exclaimed, indignant. “There must be some grave misunderstanding, love. Who’s been spreading such vile slander?”

She raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms as she leaned in with a conspiratorial air. “Maybe the same people who said you got caught in Port Royal while chasing your own hat?”

Jack’s face twisted into a defensive pout. “That was a tactical misstep,” he muttered, then quickly recovered his swagger. “And who, may I ask, has the audacity to claim they’re better than me?”

She leaned back, her smirk widening. “You’re looking at her.”

For a moment, Jack was utterly silent, his mouth opening and closing as though trying to form words. Then, suddenly, he let out a delighted laugh, spinning in a circle and pointing back at Gibbs and Will. “Do you hear this, mates? She thinks she’s better than me!”

Will crossed his arms tighter. “I don’t know if the world can handle two of them.”

Gibbs sighed. “We’re doomed, lad. Doomed.”

Jack turned back to her, his expression alight with giddy admiration. “Well, Captain Just Captain,” he said, stepping close enough that their hats nearly touched. “You’ve piqued my interest. What’s your game, eh? Treasure? Adventure? The eternal pursuit of rum?”

“All of the above,” she quipped, leaning in to match his proximity. “And you?”

Jack’s grin turned devilish. “A little of this, a little of that. Mostly, I prefer to keep people guessing.”

Their exchange was a flurry of rapid-fire banter, their words overlapping as if neither could wait to one-up the other. It was like watching two storms collide, chaotic yet mesmerizing.

Will finally couldn’t take it anymore. “Are you two going to flirt all day, or are we actually going to leave port at some point?”

Jack spun to face him, offended. “Flirt? Flirt?! I’ll have you know, Mr. Turner, this is no ordinary exchange of pleasantries. This is an advanced tactical maneuver.”

She chimed in, raising a finger. “Pirate diplomacy, if you will.”

“Exactly,” Jack said, pointing at her.

Will’s expression was blank. “Right.”

“Don’t worry, lad,” Gibbs said, patting Will on the shoulder. “Best to let it play out. You’ll hurt your head trying to make sense of it.”

Jack turned back to her, his hand outstretched. “So, what do you say, love? Care to join the crew of the Black Pearl? Finest ship on the seas, and, if I may say so, the finest captain.”

Her grin softened slightly, her hand slipping into his. “Well, I suppose I could use a ship.” She tugged him closer, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “But only if you’re ready to be second-best.”

Jack barked a laugh, pulling her up the gangplank. “We’ll see about that!”

Gibbs chuckled, shaking his head as the pair disappeared onto the ship. “Mark my words, Turner,” he said, taking another swig. “This’ll be the start of somethin’ legendary—or a disaster.”

Will sighed. “With Jack, it’s always both.”

[admiral-mason]

I'm bored, random crossover time again

Recently I have gotten into a little shooter game known as Ultrakill.

For those who don't know: Ultrakill is basically a shooter game that combines elements from Titanfall, Doom Eternal, Devil May Cry, etc. You play as V1, a literal blood-powered combat robot that descends into Hell (from Dante's Inferno) to get more blood. On the way, you fight demons, angels, and other machines.

So? With my blog basically sporadically alive, let me revive it with another nonsensical crossover!

Gender neutral reader

SPOILERS AHEAD!

How these two games crossed over:

So you own both a PC and a phone/tablet. You would mostly play Genshin Impact on your mobile device while you played Ultrakill on your PC.

You've managed to complete both games and right now you tried obtaining all the alternate 'slab' weapons in Ultrakill. You have one already, simply called the slab revolver by many. Your next weapon to obtain is the sawblade launcher, located in stage 4-4 Clair de Soleil.

So, you did so. Whiplashing the blue skull from the right room after you used the first jump pad, the door opened and you shot your railcannon into the water. However, when you did so, the game decided to crash on you.

"What the hell??" You said before grumbling a little and trying to boot the game back up to no avail. Closing out the game, you bothered to play a little Genshin. However, within a few seconds of booting up the game, you got shocked and blacked out.

How you got to Teyvat:

After waking up, you found yourself in a plains area... and then you saw an anemo slime.

"Hey, you. You're finally awake." A voice that sounded like Microsoft Sam said from behind you.

(V1's voice from this program)

Turning around, you were greeted by the blue camera head himself.

"What the frick V1 how are you here??"

"I don't fucking know, one moment I touched the sawblade launcher, and now I'm here in what appears to be Limbo but not fake with the human who basically assisted me in murdering all of hell for blood. By the way, you perform really great shotgun yeets!*"

"Uh, thanks." You awkwardly responded.

"Now where the fuck can I get some blood?"

In Mondstadt:

The two of you ended up wandering around V1 had managed to kill a few wild animals for blood with his revolver. It didn't take long for someone to hear the sounds and approach you two afterward.

"You two! Stop right there!" Amber heard the sounds of V1's revolver shots as she ran towards you two. If it weren't for you rapidly telling V1 to not shoot her, she'd likely be on the floor in a pool of her own blood.

"...Hi there." You awkwardly said before she ended up tackling you to the ground in a hug with V1 just looking at the sight.

After Amber took you two to Mondstadt, word spread quickly of the Divine One and their blue angel-looking machine. The two of you managed to receive free housing with the Knights of Favonius alongside a tour of the city.

V1 abused his superior mobility to cross the entire city from one side to the other in less than a minute. This astonished the local citizens at this strange individual's movement skills. And then he accidentally crashes into a random citizen's cart.

"WHEEEEEEEEEEE"

"V1 don't you're gonna-!"

V1 crashes into a cart full of cabbages, toppling it

"..."

Everyone's also confused at his ability to seemingly generate coins... before shooting at them with that curved thing he holds in his hands and then it kills stuff. (I presume that most Mondstatians have never seen guns, the closest they have seen is probably a bow,)

Then he somehow pulls a giant double-barreled minigun?? Then a tube that shoots rockets??

Expect Klee to be all over him.

"Well see, this rocket launcher used to be an industrial tool, until some-"

"HOW BIG OF A BOOM CAN IT MAKE?!"

"...Let me demonstrate!"

V1 activated the freeze mode on his Freezeframe Rocket Launcher and fired a few rockets at a group of wolves...

...Safe to say, those wolves and their surroundings got blown up to high hell.

When Jean found the destructive duo, V1 just took Klee into his arms and proceeded to abuse his mobility yet again.

"BOING! Catch me now, bozo!"

"Get back here you blue thing-"

"I am not a blue thing thank you- BOING!"

Looking past shenanigans, Albedo and Sucrose have taken an interest in V1's lethal arsenal that's even far superior to Fatui tech. Noelle might ask to train with the machine after some introductions.

In Liyue

After a few days of staying in Mondstadt, you kinda wanted to see Liyue so you told everyone else and asked V1 to accompany you. Upon arrival though, you found out that Liyue prepared a celebration for the two of you. Turns out news can leak out quickly to the world even if you've only interacted with a part of it.

V1 found Liyue significantly more fun to traverse and navigate around. From mountainous marvels to spacious streets, the nation provided him with no short of tricks to pull off.

Everyone interacted with V1 normally until he started using the Whiplash to grab items from various vendors merely flipping a few coins at them in return. This led to a scuffle with the Millelith and he ended up shocking everyone by knocking all of the soldiers out with a mere punch to their chest.

Thankfully you managed to calm him down.

When he saw the Jade Chamber, he made it a personal challenge to ascend without using the proper way. He unfortunately did so while Ningguang was pleasantly talking with you.

"This, your grace, is-" You could then faintly hear rocket sounds in the distance, with Ningguang following suit shortly after. You both turned in the direction of the sound to see V1 flying on a rocket with his Freezeframe Rocket Launcher yet again before he jumped off and landed right next to the two of you.

"Hi friend I'm back! Mechanic abuse is funny!"

Ningguang just blinked at the sight of the combat machine that somehow stood on a small flying object to get up here without proper authorization. "...Your grace what the heck did that thing just do??"

"I AM NOT A THING-"

Part 2?

*Shotgun yeets refer to projectile boosts.

[ihavenoideawhatiamdoingjustgay2]

And your fears could fill bootes void

Genre : Fluff, (Emotional) Hurt comfort,

Notes : ADHD and GN! Reader, you are wearing make up and a dress though, self indulgent, soft! Arlecchino :), please don't try to fill bootes void with anything it's 300 million ligth years big and houses only 60 galaxies, based on my horrible graduation preparation

Sypnosis : You are panicking and nothing seems to go rigth, but then Arlecchino comes to your rescue.

Take me to AO3

You ball the wipes up and throw them at the nearest trashcan, missing, but that wasn`t of your concern now. You grabed the eyeliner once again, the lid had been long abandoned, exposing the pointy liquid brush. You take a deep breath as you watch yourself setting it at the redend corner of your eye, drawing a straigth line in one fell swoop. You let the air escape from your lungs, moving to do the next eye. Then your eyes fall on the reflection of the clock and you start to visibly shake. Curses fall from your lips as you realize, and you hold your head in your hands, realizing only now how bad it really was.

„This is fine, it is ok.“

You tell yourself, lie to yourself. You release your head, you were sure that you could fix it still, very simple, esspecially considering your shaking body and the clock that is ticking closer to your independing doom. You turn to the mirror, mind with the clock, eyes on the line, you were sure you could do it. You set on, getting ready. But alas, it worked as well as it did before. Your breath quickend as you grabbed another round of wipes, tears rolling down your cheeks ruining your remaining make up. Why did they write the wrong time on the invite!? God fucking damn it. Why should you even go at this point? You would just embarass Arle and the whole Fatui as a whole. Worse even : you`d miss the start. Running in after everyone else certainly wouldn`t look flattering.

You screamed quickly, not noticing the woman in your mirror untill you were done.

Her presence was like a whiplash into your face, you wiped your tears away, standing up, your breath still short, tears still burning their way down.

„I will take that as a `no`.“

She must have asked you something. You suck in a breath. „I can not with this fucking eyeliner and now that I started crying everything is ruined! I am not even in my clothes and- damn we will run late! I called and gods! You should just go withouth me!“ during your outburst Arlecchino had moved to your vanity already, waiting untill you were finished. You watch her leaning against it.

„Sit.“ she said, her head leaning towards the chair.

You stare for a few second before your body follows her ask and sits you down on the chair, she takes your chin, making you look up at her. Her gaze sweps over your face, then she mumbles :“You`ve been to harsh on yourself.“ she takes a wipe herself and has it gently go over your eyes, a gentleness that was only reserved for you and maybe sometimes the children. „And you didn`t get everything.“ she adds, rubbing a bit. It takes her a while untill she holds your head up in satisfaction, untill her thumb strokes your cheek. „There. We can work with that.“

She takes a few steps back, to the trashcan and you get a better look at her. You bite your lips. „You look...“ she slowly turns back. Her body was covered with a formal suit, though she had removed her jacket and rolled up her sleeves, after coming in, exposing her muscles. You blush. How childish. „Pretty handsome.“

„And the person at my side will look equally as good.“ you smile, and her eyes got kinder. „Now close your eyes for me?“ you watch as she dips one of your brushes into a palette, then do as she asked. The brush caresses over your eyelids like a feather, while the ticking of the clock cuts into your ears like a knife. Your leg starts to shake again.

„We will be late.“ you state.

„It could indeed come to that. But, it is not our fault if they put the wrong time on it.“

You open your eyes as she looks for something, then hear her open the mascarra with a plop.

As you look up at her and as the ligth purs down at her she, she almost seems like an angle with an white halo. She would stab most for the comparison though, unless they put „Death“ in it. Your angle of death. „Don`t stab me with that?“ you joke.

She snickered. „I`d never.“ she applied it as gently as when she swiped your face, or when she did the eyeshadow. Arlecchino then took a good look at everything, turning your head, tilting hers, she then took the eyeliner, you watched her shake it to then close your eyes, biting your lips in anticipation. A smooth line was drawn twice and then both were filled in.

You wanted to open your eyes but she shut them.

„I am not done yet.“ she declares

Your ears go back to the clock. „Arle-“

„Do not worry. I will handle it.“ it didn`t do much, yet you decided to sit still. For the next few minutes, she is doing something with your face, you think she may be retouching the foundation and the blush, but who knows.

You hear the brushes being sorted in, everything really. She was a neat person, was she not? Always making sure the blood was scrubed away and always taking care of the witnesses herself.

„Done.“ she then announces withing a breath, you turn to the mirror with a smile, then crock your head while staring at the ligth eyeshadow, the blush accentuating your cheekbones.

„It is very decent.“

She puts her hands on your shoulders. „There was no reason for much. I just accentuated what was already there.“ she quickly kissed your cheek and then moved to your dress, to your shared bed.

You turn back to the clock, fear hovering above you like a sword. „We will be so late-“

„Will you need my assitance with the dress?“

You took a breath. „Perhabs.“ you then hurry to undress, while Arlecchino is putting her jacket back on.

„Alrigth.“ you state, sliping into the dress, nearly tripping in the process.

Arlecchino quickly zips you up, giving you another chaste kiss on the back of your neck, but you had no real time to react since she decided to twirl you slowly, but your eyes were only glued to the door. „You look ravishing my dear.“

You flashed a quick smile at her before taking her hand and formly dragging her towards the door.

Arlecchino only gave you a sigh as you asked if you`d come at the rigth time by foot.

She stopped you once you got in front of the door. „What, what is it?“

She pushed your hair back, grabbing your face. „The way is only five minutes, calm down.“

She then took your arm, opening the door for you, hushing a look at your shoes.

„Huh, you are wearing the shoes I gave you.“

You couldn`t stop yourself. „No.“ the lie slips from your lips like butter and she stares into your soul. You count the seconds, her steps. After a few years of being married you were able to lie and look into her eye after for maybe ten seconds before gaining a headache, though that number subtracted itself by half due to your nervosity this fine evening. You looked down. „Yes. They are pretty.“

She chuckled, taking your hip before walking down the stairs. „You should stop this little game of yours I´m slowly burning away all of your braincells at this point.“

„Well, have I ever had any to begin with?“

She would have chuckled if you weren`t out. Your wolf. „You have always been impecable.“ All of a sudden you felt her lips against your own. You let yourself melt into it, her, making you forget your fear for just a few seconds. It was not usuall for her to do this unprompted, most times you were gratefull for that, but now.

She parted from you, though her touch lingered for longer. You breated, remembering what she had said, smiling up at her. „Well thank you my dearest husband.“

And like that, you made your way to the event and it couldn´t have gone better.

[underdark-dreams]

Thank you everyone who has read this fic along its life! I finally got up the courage to tie it up with a bow. Here's the final chapter of my Rolan x Tav series Sage and Soldier, with links to the other pieces:

Blades and Spells [Fluff - First Meeting]

Good Night for Company - [Pining - Feelings Realization | NSFW] [ch1] [ch2]

[ch1] - [ch2] - [ch3] - [ch4] - [ch5]

A Strand to Climb - Ch.6

After the end of the world, there's a wizard's tower in the Upper City.

Tags: Mild Angst, Fluff, NSFW | Word Count: 4.8k [Read on AO3]

There was no time to celebrate the death of the Absolute—not when Tav and her companions stood trapped on its back like one of the doomed cities of Netheril. Not when her ears had already begun swimming and popping from the breakneck speed of their fall.

Tav yelled something back to the rest, some stupid bit of encouragement meant to keep them all on their feet. What else could they do but hold on, after all? They were all helpless, exhausted from battle, keeping their footing however they could as the brain’s pulsating flesh descended from the sky.

When they punched through the misty cloud layer below, Tav’s stomach leapt straight up into her throat. They were sailing across the Upper City, and the high spire of Ramazith’s Tower was rushing forward to meet them.

Too soon, her ears rang with the sickening, rib-shaking crash as the dying Netherbrain collided with the column of the Tower. Her shout of horror was lost to the explosive crumble of masonry and the whip of wind. She had only a second to fear the worst. 

The impact spun the creature on its descent; Tav was knocked hard to her side, forced to scrabble for purchase on the monster’s slimy flesh as it careened sideways. Her limbs skated ineffectually over the brain’s folds—she was sliding toward the edge—

Not like this, her mind screamed in protest.

Tav yanked the sheathed dagger at her thigh and plunged it into the dying Absolute. Two hands gripped the hilt with all her might, even as her legs swung over the side of the Netherbrain like those of a limp ragdoll.

“Hells, we’re headed for harbor—!”

Behind her, Wyll’s yell of warning cut through. Tav understood at once—if they hit the Chionthar still standing on the back of the Netherbrain, its mass would pull them deep underwater with the strength of a vortex. She craned her neck blindly.

“Gale!” Tav shrieked for him, mad with panic. What if he’d fallen in the Upper City? What if he was gone, and she was beseeching a void?

Then she heard Gale’s voice call out for the Weave, and his spell hit hard along her spine. Her boots lifted unnaturally, the feet within them tingling with the power of flight—

The Netherbrain banked hard over the central City Wall. They were low enough now that Tav could make out figures with upturned faces—people watching the monster’s fall from the sky and fleeing away on foot, as if all pushed back by the same bank of wind. With one more lilt, the fleshy ground under her veered straight for the ancient wooden river docks.

A sharp glint of hope. If they timed their jump just right—if Gale’s spell lasted—

“Fuck this—” Beside her, Karlach was of the same mind. She was crouched low for balance, inching forward to the edge of the Crown for a better position. 

Tav used her dagger for leverage to push herself crouched. “Aim for the roof of the Counting House!”

She heard the others fighting to their feet behind her. Gravity was accelerating their fall; sharp rain and river mist buffeted against her face as they swung rapidly for the water. But first, they passed beside a wide expanse of flat stone ramparts.

And then—they jumped.

—

Tav’s limbs cried out in exhaustion; her rain-soaked leg plates jangled heavily with each boot tread. She dragged herself through the streets of the Gate on adrenaline alone. 

Those streets were in chaos. Though the battle was newly won, each corner she rounded brought a fresh skirmish. 

Newborn mind flayers stumbled about in swarms, hungry and rudderless without direction from their Elder Brain. Many still dripped with blood from the death of their human forms. Those Baldurians who weren't running from them with crying children in their arms had snatched up tools and blades alike to run the creatures through with the ruthlessness of survival. 

The chaos helped. Grit and blood and thudding bodies distracted Tav from the one sight she wanted to turn her head to, yet couldn't bear to see. 

As her boots climbed the cobbles north toward the Upper City gate, Rolan’s tower crumbled over and over in her mind’s eye. She felt like retching. Her lungs were on fire.

Please let him be alive, please let him be alive, please let him be alive—she prayed to any god who might still be listening.

A child’s scream brought her up short on reflex.

Silfy—the timid one from the Grove, the little girl who cried when Tav caught her stealing a worthless trinket. A young mind flayer was reaching for her, one long-fingered hand directing its neural heat where she stood frozen in terror.

Tav’s teeth ground in her skull. She was so thoroughly fucking done—her longsword scraped out of its scabbard and arced straight toward the creature’s throat. 

Just as the blow connected, an arrow shaft pushed out between the mind flayer’s dark eyes. It crumpled lifeless to the pavement in a heavy heap. Silfy turned tail without a backward glance; Tav squinted through mist and smoke, trying to identify the Flaming Fist who still held her shortbow poised.

“Lia!” Tav could have sobbed in relief. “Thank gods—is Rolan—?”

“I don’t know—” Lia’s voice was desperate as she ran closer. “Cal and I took the Sundries portal to fight with Cerys. Last we heard, Rolan was up manning the turrets.”

Tav could have swayed and collapsed where she stood. Only adrenaline kept her upright.

“I’ll find him,” she shouted above the surrounding chaos, half to herself, half to wipe that terrible fear from Lia’s face. She pushed away into a sprint without another word to her. 

He’s not dead—he wouldn’t die like that—

Would she even be able to find Rolan’s body in the wreckage if he was? Tav’s knees wanted to give way at the thought. She gasped air into her lungs, wresting that image of him out of her mind with everything she had.

When she rounded the road from Flymm’s Cargo, a powerful wall of heat nearly knocked her back on her rump.

The ancient prow of the Blushing Mermaid was ablaze. Flames the height of ten men towered into the gray skies above, unaffected by the steady drizzle of rain. Her steel chestplate grew painfully hot as she forced herself up the crest of the hill.

Shouts and acrid air clouded her senses as she dashed beside the scene. Tav caught sight of Zorru and Danis, leading a bucket line all the way from Gray Harbor; their voices cracked from heat and smoke as they yelled directions.

All at once, like the emptying of a giant basin over their heads, a crash of water fell over the blaze and its surroundings. The cobbles under her feet were abruptly drenched; Tav slipped and careened forward, catching herself hard on both hands in a clang of plate armor.

There was a deep, ominous creak from somewhere above her. Knocked breathless, Tav nevertheless craned her head back. 

The heavy wooden spindle on the ship’s prow that jutted over the street was already weakened from fire; now it was soaked through from the magical downpour. As she watched dumbstruck, it splintered with a slow twang. Then the wood snapped clean down the middle, and the length of it swung downward, straight for her legs.

Tav scrambled forward on hands and knees. Her boots and gauntlets scraped over the wet stones toward safety—

Footsteps were sprinting closer. There was a shouted incantation and a flash; Tav smelled roses as the Weave enveloped her completely for the space of a blink. Then she landed flat on her stomach in the middle of the street.

Thoroughly winded now, she coughed and wheezed for breath. The blaze and heat of the fire was strangely distant from where she lay. 

As her lungs finally filled again, Tav realized she wasn’t just lying on pavement—something soft under her torso had cushioned the fall. She lifted up with a groan to look down at what she’d fallen on top of.

Rolan was entirely covered in soot and masonry dust from horn to foot. The effect was that he blended almost completely into the gray cobbles at first glance. Only when he opened his eyes did she recognize the two golden flames staring back at her.

“Tav!” 

Rolan sat up so suddenly his horns nearly collided with her forehead. His hands gripped around her forearms with bruising force. “The Brain—I thought you’d—”

Her body had begun to violently shake as she took him in, each inch of his face strained with anxiety and streaked with dust and thoroughly alive—

Unable to go another second without him, Tav threw both arms around his neck. Rolan gripped her ribcage in turn, so tight and so long that her vision went spotty from lack of air. She couldn’t care less; in this moment, she would have dissolved right into him if she could have.  

“I thought you were dead, Rolan,” she gasped into his shoulder. “Your Tower—the Netherbrain crashed right into it.”

“Only the observatory.” Rolan’s voice was muffled against her hair. “Never planned to use it anyway—not much of an astronomer—��

Tav could have laughed hysterically if she wasn’t so out of breath. Rolan continued against her neck. 

“I was following it to the harbor, Tav, I had no idea what became of you—but then the fire, there were people inside—”

“You had to help,” she finished. She felt tears streaming fast and hot down her cheeks. The strength of her relief could’ve bowled her right over again. “I know, I know, just—”

They released each other at the same time. The kiss was stained with sweat and grime, yet it was the most satisfying one Tav had ever felt. She gripped Rolan’s face between two gauntleted hands, crushing his mouth against her.

“Lia’s okay,” she gasped out when Rolan’s lips finally left hers. “I met her south of here. She and Cal went with Cerys. Cal must be fine too, she would’ve said,” Tav added in a rush.

Rolan jerked his head in acknowledgement, his expression punch-drunk as he took her in. He was smoothing her hair back with both hands as if the motion was the only thing keeping him grounded at the moment.

“Are you all right?” Her voice was very small.

Rolan nodded at her again. Clearly spell-spent and dusted in plaster, he looked like his own ghost. “Are you?” Despite all that, his baritone reverberated warm and familiar in her chest.

“It’s so quiet,” she whispered hoarsely. Her words fell in almost comical contrast to the distant sounds of shouting, fire, and steel meeting illithid flesh. 

But she could tell from the way Rolan’s eyes moved over her expression that he understood. The tadpole was finally gone—her mind was entirely her own again.

Rolan’s spark was beginning to return. “Can you stand?”

As he rose, Tav wobbled experimentally to her feet along with him. Her knees were bruised from the tumble, and her calves threatened to cramp from exertion—but she put on a brave face. 

Unconvinced, Rolan kept an arm looped behind her back just in case; one hand fastened along her waist. Walking with him close at her side, the adrenaline began to ebb in her veins. Bone-weariness was instead closing in like a shroud. 

“We should find Cal and Lia,” she said, trying to sound purposeful. Her boots dragged with each step.

“Yes,” Rolan agreed. He was holding her very firmly—practically supporting half her weight. “And we should be sure your friends made it safely from the docks.”

Tav gave a mumbled assent. It was difficult to care about any of that now, though she knew she should. She found herself staring up at his profile beside her. 

“Rolan?”

He looked down in concern. “What is it?”

“After that…will you take me home?”

“My darling—” His lips pressed firmly to her brow. “Yes.”

—

Tav shifted on top of him with a mumble.

Rolan froze with arms still looped around her; perhaps the crinkle of scroll parchment had awakened her. 

But then her face snuffled back into the bare crook of his shoulder. The dead weight of her across his chest assured Rolan that she was still fast asleep.

It was a lucky thing that he’d settled with reading material at arm’s length—the small pack of rare scrolls Tav herself had gifted him. She’d been out cold since dawn, when they all made it back to the Tower. It was nearly twilight now, and the sun’s last orange rays were fading fast through the high windows of Rolan’s bedroom. The distant streets had grown quiet as the city retired to nurse its wounds for the night.

Rolan hadn't seen much of her battle with the Netherbrain. Tav hadn't been in a state to tell many details once it was finally over, either. She could barely keep her eyelids open. The only thing clear was that she was completely exhausted from it.

Before anything else, Rolan coaxed several very potent healing elixirs down her throat. Then he drew them a bath and helped her out of her bloodied armor. She leaned heavily against him under the water. By the time he wrapped her in a towel to dry, he practically had to carry her back to his room.

The only hint of her fire came out when he’d tried to guide her toward the bed for sleep. Tav refused to go anywhere near the large four-poster frame that had belonged to the Tower’s previous archwizard. In fact, she declared that the whole thing was to be burned, mattress and all. 

Rolan couldn’t decide whether he was more amused or touched by her vehemence.

Instead, she’d grabbed a fistful of the blankets and dragged them away in order to fall against the massive direwolf pelt rug in front of the fireplace. It was no feather bed, but still leagues more comfortable than how either of them had slept on the road to Baldur’s Gate.

Especially so with Tav draped over him, Rolan had since decided. She’d promptly held him to her and drifted off. Her bare torso was a comforting weight on his chest. Her cheek pressed against his shoulder as she slept, little steady breaths tickling against his neck.

Home. That’s what Tav had called this, hadn’t she? Silently, Rolan leaned his cheek against her hair as he read.

Lia and Cal had moved all their things into the Tower the same day its ownership changed hands. The few of Rolan’s possessions remaining in their Heapside flat had been left in a little pile just inside his bedroom door. Among them was the small leather scroll pouch Tav had gifted him on her arrival to Baldur’s Gate. 

By this point, Rolan was certain he could find a much larger wealth of arcane knowledge in his new library. Still…it felt important to study from these first. 

For one, they were certainly beyond anything he’d managed to teach himself from hand-me-down textbooks back in Elturel. Whoever she’d stolen them from must have been an advanced practitioner of the Weave. Or perhaps just a man with the wealth and fancy to build a collection, much like Lorroakan had been.

They were also a gift from Tav. That simple fact made them more valuable to Rolan than most of the wealth he’d inherited along with Ramazith’s Tower. 

Had she collected them one by one in her travels here, thinking of him while she did? A warm affection bloomed in his chest at the thought. He’d have to ask her when she finally woke.

It was as if she sensed the thought. 

With a deep inhale, Tav arched and stretched full-body against the length of him under the covers. Her hands both landed to tangle in his hair against their makeshift fur bed.

“Morning,” she purred sleepily against his neck.

Rolan decided then and there—he could very much get used to waking up like this. However, it seemed the right thing to correct her. 

He kissed her brow. “Evening, actually.”

Tav raised her groggy face from his chest then, wiping one corner of her mouth. His eyes left the page to watch her blink around his bedroom in a daze. The blood-orange light of sunset was stretching long and dim across the floorboards now.

“Oh,” she said softly, a single word holding great recognition. Her wide eyes flicked to his face. 

“Have—have I been laid on top of you like a dead fish this whole time?”

“I’d never call you that,” Rolan assured her calmly. “But yes.”

Tav looked at him in appraisal for a long moment. 

“I think you like it,” she decided, and laid her head back down over his heart. He chuckled to himself and raised his free hand to smooth the hair back from her face.

Tav sighed happily at the gesture. “What are you reading, Rolan?”

“One of the scrolls you gave me.”

“Oh? Tell me about it, then. I’m curious.” One hand had gravitated suspiciously close to his ear. Sure enough, her thumb and forefinger began tracing along its edges to the pointed tip.

“You don’t have to do that, you know,” Rolan sighed. He’d always been unable to ignore the shivers that flowed down his spine when she touched him there. “I’d tell you regardless.”

“I'm sorry—” Her touch fell from him immediately. “I don’t do it on purpose, really. They’re just so pretty.”

Rolan cleared his throat. “It’s fine. You can—go on. If you like. Just know it’s a bit distracting.”

After a moment, her fingers cautiously returned. She was careful to keep the motion smooth and predictable this time. Rolan focused back on the page he’d pressed to fall flat before she woke.

“This one teaches a technique for arcane portal conjurement. The linking of two locations with a path carved through the Weave.”

Tav swiveled on her chin to look up at him. “Like the one from the Sundries to your library here?”

Rolan hummed in assent. “I've read about wizards who linked much more distant places together. The distance from here to Waterdeep, for instance. It requires a tremendous bit of spellwork.”

“How on earth?” She frowned at him in curiosity. “Where do you put a portal if you can't see where it's going?”

“Not sure yet,” Rolan mused, already being drawn back in by his reading despite her affectionate intrusions. “Most likely it requires two casters to sculpt the spell properly. I’ll need to understand the basic mechanics first.”

“You’ll figure it out,” Tav replied. She snuggled back into to the warmth at his neck.

“Of course I will.” Rolan shook the parchment out with his hand to punctuate the statement. 

Tav let out a quiet exhale of laughter—but she said nothing to question him. It made Rolan swell with pride a bit.

He held her for another quiet moment as the fire snapped and danced in the hearth beside them. Its light seemed to burn brighter and even warmer now, with the sun finally gone behind the horizon.  

When Tav shifted further over his lap, he didn’t think anything at first. Perhaps she was still trying to get comfortable on their makeshift sleeping arrangements.

Then she ground the heat between her legs over his half-hard cock, and a reflexive sound was pushed from Rolan’s throat.

“Tav,” he groaned.

“I’ve always loved that confidence of yours.” She had propped herself up with hands on his chest to gaze down at him. The covers fell back to bathe her lovely bare shoulders and breasts and stomach with firelight. “You don’t understand, it’s like catnip to me.”

“Where's this coming from?”

“What? Is it not enough that I just woke up naked with the most handsome, brilliant young archwizard on the whole Sword Coast—”

As she showered him with teasing flattery, Tav canted her hips harder against his own. Rolan leaned back against the tips of his horns with another involuntary groan; the scroll fell away dangerously close to the fire, forgotten.

“Tav,” he repeated more forcefully, pushing himself up on one elbow. Her face above him was full of mischief. “You’ve just been through hells—are you sure you’re well enough to—?”

“Yes.” She threw her head back in a moan with the word. Rolan’s hands flew instinctively to her hips. She was already rocking and grinding in rhythm against him, leaving a wet patch of heat where their hips slotted together.

“You’re unbelievable—” Rolan held her arms back insistently, forcing her to look at him. 

Tav panted and bit her lip as they watched each other. He was of half a mind to return the favor. Look at the pretty hero of Baldur’s Gate, fresh from battle and already writhing on my cock—but the clear desire between her legs had rather scrambled his own thoughts. 

Instead, Rolan did what he could manage to tease her. “Tell me how you feel right now.”

“Hot.” Her voice was low and tempting; her eyes were dark with desire. “Wanting you. Needing you inside me—”

Even without leverage from her palms, Tav managed to shift over his ridges in a way that made Rolan twitch and shudder under her.

“Good gods—I want you too,” he heard himself gasp out. 

It was all the encouragement she needed. His grip had gone slack in distraction; with one hand guiding him, Tav angled herself up and sank down over the hard ridges of his length.

Her tight, wet heat all around him nearly knocked him breathless. Rolan lay back and ran his hands up her thighs. The firm muscle there led him straight to the lovely swell of her hips, and he gripped each hand with nails dimpling into her flesh.

Strong and soft—Tav was somehow both of those things at once. As she sat adjusting to him, her eyes certainly had never been softer than they were now, moving over his face.

“I missed this,” she breathed. 

Rolan nodded in silent agreement. From tonight on, he swore to himself, neither of them would ever have a chance to miss this.

When she began moving, it was slow and deliberate. Her hips glided up and down to take him—so warm, so perfect. Rolan glanced where their bodies met, watching his length disappearing into her again and again. The sight was almost too much; he felt compelled to close his eyes.

Instead, Rolan pushed himself seated. He couldn't be close enough to her. 

Tav folded her arms around his shoulders at once, adjusting to the new angle without breaking rhythm. Her face was bathed in firelight.

As he took in every inch of her, Rolan caught sight of an old blade scar under her jaw. He’d never noticed it before now. He leaned to press his lips against it.

She tilted her head with a soft sound, opening up the rest of her throat to his mouth should he want it. And he did—Rolan kissed and nipped at the flesh there while Tav rode him, her voice softly gasping and whispering his name over and over like a prayer. 

The rhythm of their hips together increased to something desperate. Rolan felt heat licking under his skin, burning like flame everywhere their bodies touched. She clutched desperate fingers over the deep ridges along his shoulder blades.

“Come in me,” she gasped. “Please.”

That one little word was his undoing. Who was he to deny the woman who had just saved everything he loved in the whole Realms, herself included? 

Rolan forced his mouth away from Tav’s throat to watch her come apart. She was already close—he could tell from the way her mouth fell open, the way her walls twitched and gripped him tighter each time she bounced down onto his lap. 

“I love you—” 

He wasn’t sure she heard with the way she arched and tensed into him—but then she already knew, didn’t she? Tav’s arms were trembling around his shoulders when she came, as if he was the only thing keeping her anchored down to earth. 

When he felt the coil inside him unraveling, Rolan buried his face into her shoulder again. She was whispering praises against the tapered shell of his ear—things too sweet to even commit to his own memory. Rolan clutched at her back with both hands as he finally shuddered and spilled inside her.

He kept his arms locked tight around her middle as the twitching waves at his core echoed and subsided. Then they tipped backward together, their bodies still connected, to land in a soft pile of fur.

For a long moment, the only sounds were the crackle of the fire and the way they both panted against each other. Lying on top of him again, Tav’s lips brushed against the trail of ridges below his collar bone.

Soon enough, one of his long fingers began tracing over her back. He practiced the shapes of his somatic spell components along the empty expanse of her skin. She was so soft and smooth there—so unlike the way Tieflings were formed.

He felt goosebumps raise where his fingers touched. Tav shivered against him. 

“That tickles,” she mumbled into his chest.

“Apologies, darling,” Rolan told her. Some other time it would be very interesting to investigate how ticklish she was. For now, he stilled to press his palm against her lower back instead.

Tav heaved a deep sigh against his chest. “What are we supposed to do now?”

Rolan crooked his head down at her. “What do you mean?”

“Now that it’s over.” Tav propped her chin on both hands to meet his eye. “I can barely remember what it feels like to just…live my own life. You know?” 

Rolan carded one hand back through her hair. He understood the feeling well. 

“There’s still plenty to occupy both of us,” he assured her. “I need to complete the Tower repairs before the next storm, which could be any day knowing Sword Coast weather. And the Lower City is in a state of absolute ruin. I’m sure you’ll have a hundred people knocking on my door come morning, asking for their hero’s help with a hundred different things—”

To his surprise, Tav sat up on his lap in a huff. The motion reminded him he was still softening inside of her. 

“There you go spoiling my fun,” she complained good-naturedly. “Here I expected you to be thrilled at the prospect of finally having me in your bed day and night, with no mortal peril hanging over either of our heads, no less. And you only want to discuss Baldurian civics—”

Rolan felt himself beginning to laugh at her, a relaxed and throaty sound. “Is that what’s troubling you? Tav, I thoroughly intend to fuck you often and well.”

“You’d better,” she warned, but the corners of her mouth had begun to twitch. He wanted to devour her.

“And since you’ve declared my own bed permanently off-limits—” 

In one motion he rolled their bodies to pin Tav under him. It earned him a little ‘oh’ of surprise; he was conveniently still buried between her legs. “You’ve put me in the position of having to be resourceful.”

“Big change for you, that?” Tav teased. But her legs crossed behind his flanks to keep him close. As they did, one of her heels inadvertently rubbed against the sensitive base of his tail. 

Rolan hissed in air between his teeth. He saw her eyes spark with recognition, and leaned down to kiss her senseless before she could do anything wicked with this new information.

By the time they surfaced from lips and tongues and teeth, he was already achingly stiff inside her again. Her hands ran down his front, flowing over each concentric pattern on his chest with open want. It sent a shiver all the way down his spine, from neck to tail.

The way Tav looked at him—the way she touched him as if he was perhaps the loveliest thing she’d ever seen. He decided it would take him years to get used to. Maybe he never would.

Rolan kept still regardless, waiting for her to finish her explorations. All traces of teasing were long gone from her now. 

Tav’s eyes reflected the warmth of the dying fire as reached up for him. She passed one more deliberate hand over the planes of his face, as if she’d like to memorize the feel of them. Her fingers landed to gently clutch around his jaw.

“My wizard,” she said softly. 

Rolan had never been one for pet names; even from the people he cared about most. Those words should have sounded diminutive and sentimental to him, even spoken by Tav. 

Instead…

They fell sweetly against his ear, flowed like honeyed wine down his throat, and nestled into a space that glowed with warmth somewhere behind his ribs.

And why shouldn’t they? He was her wizard, after all.

[meadow-roses]

Grace finally gets to have a conversation with Dauntless, face to face :D

Written/full version of the scene under the cut

***

Grace opened the door and immediately froze. 

Felix was standing across the room from her in front of an open window. He was dressed in dark clothes with boots that reached up just below the knee. In his hands he was holding a helmet with a dark visor. 

He turned when he heard the door, and for a second their eyes met. It was only for a second.

“Wait! Dauntless!” Grace shouted, taking a step forwards before stopping herself. She didn't want to chase him.

Felix froze halfway out the window.

“Please…” she said gently. “Just stay. Talk to me?”

He made no response, but she watched his shoulders droop before taking his foot down from the sill and turning to face her.

Even with all she'd put into schooling herself to read faces, she couldn't quite tell what he was thinking. His face was mostly blank, was it resigned, maybe sad?

He just looked at her, waiting for her to speak.

“I'm not going to tell anyone, I… haven't told anyone. I've known for a while now actually.”

Felix tensed and confusion crossed his face.

“What-” he started. “How did you know?”

“Well, I didn't know,” Grace took another step into the room and reached to close the door behind her back. “But I had a pretty good guess.”

He spoke his next question by furrowing his brow and tilting his head.

Grace gave a short laugh. “You're a terrible liar, Felix.”

He bit his lip and looked down at the floor.

“I just wanted to know, why… why didn't you tell us?” 

She gave him a moment to stare at his feet before adding on, “and tell me the truth- please?”

He turned and leaned his back against the wall with a defeated sigh.

“The truth? I… I'm not sure I even know the true answer myself. I guess… I was afraid.”

He looked down at his gloved hands and awkwardly slipped his fingers together in front of him.

“I don't know exactly what I was afraid *of*, just that I was. I wasn't afraid of you guys-” he rushed to add, unlacing his hands and lifting one up to gesture. “-but I was afraid of what would happen to you guys if we were friends.”

“And that's why you're planning on leaving?”

“How did you know I was-?”

Grace shrugged.

“You really think you can save the world by yourself?” she added, crossing her arms over her chest.

“No, I can't save the world. I’m just a mechanic wearing a bicycle helmet!”

“Who also has superhuman abilities and a lot of inside knowledge,” Grace pointed out.

Felix didn't respond. He hugged his arms around his chest and looked to the floor again.

Grace sighed and put her back against the door, mirroring Felix’s pose across the room. 

“It’s not like I can stop you,” she said at last. “You could pick up your helmet and jump out that window and I would never see you again no matter how hard I looked. We both know how well that worked for me the last several months. But I guess- you can keep running away from everything you're scared of and everyone who’s gonna call you out and just stay afraid, or you can stop trying to run, and face those fears. The biggest lie you've ever told is the one you're telling yourself right now that you have to be alone.”

Felix’s face remained blank as his mouth drew into a tight line.

“You aren't alone, Felix,” she continued gently. 

“And if I stay, and they find this place, and they kill everyone here- either the government or the [gang]. I don't-” his voice cracked along with the mask on his face and he reached up to scrub his hand over his face before resuming with wavering composure, “I can't let that happen. I'll still be around, like Dauntless has been, but Felix can't stay here anymore.”

“That’s the stupidest thing you've ever said!” Grace stood up from the door and took a step towards him. “What are you going to eat? Where are you going to sleep? You're basically dooming yourself to get caught by all those people looking to kill you. You should stay, and help us fight! You don't have to pull away to protect us from a distance. Let's work together to make this place safe.”

“I don't want my life to come at the cost of anyone else's!” Felix shouted, arms still crossed over his chest, but she could see he immediately regretted it.

“I'm sorry,” he mumbled.

Grace groaned and rubbed her hand down her face. “It doesn't have to be your life or all of ours. Do you really think we're so bad at protecting this place that you're the reason we're still here?”

“That's not what I-”

“Yeah, the government's going crazy right now. Yeah, the [gang]s are pressing closer. I'm not saying you haven't been helping a lot, but we could be so much more effective if we worked together. We could save more people, Felix. You don't have to go out there and die like some sacrificial dumb-dumb.”

She shook her head and walked across the room to stand in front of him. A breeze came in through the open window, catching her loose curls and sending them waving across her face.

“I know you know I'm right.” She said gently. “And I know you're scared. I'm just asking you to trust me.”

She held out her hand to Dauntless, and hesitantly, Felix took it.

“On one condition. You guys aren't allowed to die.”

Grace grinned and gave him a firm shake. “You've got yourself a deal.”

After an awkward stretch of silence, Felix spoke again.

“So… when was the point- how did you figure it out? That I was Dauntless?”

Grace tucked her arms behind her back with a chuckle. She felt embarrassed all of a sudden, and she wasn't sure why.

“Well, uh, I was talking to Dauntless, and he laughed. It sounded like how you laugh- like how Felix laughs- and it started me thinking. All of the little inconsistencies between the two identities made sense if they had the same common denominator.”

[dragongirlie56]

Doubts and Surprises

My first post and Zelink oneshot on Tumblr! Hope you enjoy! I loved writing this one :)

Ship: Zelink

Warnings? None!

Zelink master list <——- my other one shots! :)

///////////////////////////////

Zelda didn't know why she was here. 

Her father and his advisor, Tarak, were having what seemed like a private conversation (might as well have been) with herself being the topic of discussion along with the utter doom that loomed above Hyrule. One that she was reminded of every second of every day since she was six years old. She really tried to ignore them and think of something to take her mind off of their words but she couldn't.

Her green eyes focused on a tapestry in the far corner. The triforce was elegantly sewn into its dark blue fabric. Why did everything have to be a constant reminder of her failures?

She shifted her feet from side to side, her dress restricting her movements. Her hair itched the back of her neck. Her shoes pinched her toes. And the soles of her feet hurt.

"I think it would be beneficial for the princess to continue her training," Tarak's voice sliced through her thoughts.

Red filled Zelda's vision and her fists tightened at her sides. Training always ended with nothing but disappointment and failure. She knew it, her father knew it, and the people of Hyrule knew it. 

"I agree." King Rhoam's voice carried through the throne room.

Of course he would. Zelda couldn't bring herself to look at her father. The King of Hyrule. She knew he meant well but he did a really good job of being a king instead of her dad. With Zelda's mother's passing, she had no one to teach her the ways of Hylia's sacred power. But the amount of training and praying to the silent goddesses gave nothing in return. Nothing but a boiling resentment that fueled Zelda's inner turmoil.

Did he not have another plan? Nothing to go off of? Clearly the last 11 years of training with nothing to show for didn't faze her father.

"She is scheduled to visit the last two springs. They are our last hope," Rhoam mentioned.

"Either spring will likely spark some power." Tarak added.

Zelda bit her tongue, nothing good would come out of arguing with either of them. Neither would listen to her. It always ended in flames when she argued with her father, she didn't need the both of them coming at her. 

Her fists tightened with every agonizing second. How long had it been? At least a half an hour of them referring to her in third person. Would they even notice if she left? 

Tears threatened to sting her eyes, she would not cry. Not in front of them. She needed out. She needed— Her eyes caught a familiar shade of blue, the champion's tunic. Her breathing stopped short all together when she met Link's ocean gaze. He was stationed by the wall with the master sword strapped to his back—something she used to despise with all her being but now it reminds her of him. He furrowed his brows slightly as he glanced between her and the King behind her.

That's right. He was here. She wasn't alone anymore. Oh why had she been so cruel to him before? 

Maybe she could sneak out with him or come up with some excuse. She knew he would take her away from everything if she asked, which was unrealistic considering their circumstances and duty but Zelda still wished for it. It took everything in her not to run to him then and there.

He tilted his head slightly toward the door—-he must've seen the pleading in her eyes.

"Please be off with your training, Zelda." The golden haired princess never guessed she would be somewhat relieved for her father to say those words, though they still made her grit her teeth. Why did he ask for her in the first place? To listen to someone else drone on about how she should continue her sacred training? To have a second opinion? As if she didn't get enough scolding from him.

"Of course, Father." It took everything in her not to spit the words towards his neatly polished boots. She felt like a child all over again.

She spun on her heels and descended the steps—fighting the urge to sprint down the stairs—to meet Link. Her safety. 

"Please escort her, Link." 

Link didn't need such an order, he was already holding out his hand for her to take. Her fingers wrapped around his own and he led her out.

Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.

Her other hand flew to her mouth as she heard the doors close behind her. 

She didn't know where to go, but she didn't have to. Link tugged her down the hall without a word.

—————————————————————————————————

Zelda's shoulders relaxed as she breathed in the fresh air of the castle gardens. The sun rose high in the sky with little clouds to cast away its warm rays. Her ears twitched as she heard bees zip between flowers and birds chirp in the trees. She had to admit, the castle crew had really outdone themselves with the garden grounds.

Her blonde-haired knight guided her towards one of the benches covered in peppered shade.

Her throat tightened, she wanted to cry for an entirely different reason. How can he be so thoughtful? I don't deserve it. 

"Thank you, Link." She reluctantly released his hand and took a seat. Her heart sped in her chest, had she really held his hand the entire time?

He nodded once and gave her a slight smile.

"Do you really think the princess can do it?"

Zelda's shoulders tensed at the new voices. She turned her head to glance behind her. There were two guards strolling through the gardens, their armor clinking against their weapons.

"That's what the King says. If she listens to him we should be fine." The other replied to his comrade.

"I don't know. I've heard talk around. People have lost hope."

Their voices muffled as they rounded the corner towards the courtyard.

"I'll be back," Link said, his voice quiet. She flicked her gaze to him and her eyes widened.

"No! Link you don't have to talk to them. It's fine. They... have a right to doubt me."

"How can you say that?" he questioned.

"What?" Zelda didn't stop her mouth from falling open.

His eyebrows were knit together as he stared at her.

Her hylian ears drooped slightly and her voice cracked with despair. "They're right, Link. All I do is train and it's not enough. We're going to lose this war and it's going to be my fault." She shook her head as her tears fell. "How can you even look at me? A-and be so kind to me still?" She covered her eyes, she didn't want to see his reaction to her questions. "How can you not despise me? I can't even wield the power to aid you against him. I would doubt me too."

I do doubt me. She could almost hear her words out loud.

His boots tapped the cobblestone pathway and ended in front of her. She felt him grasp her hands and lower them away from her tearstained face. 

"Prin... Zelda." The sound of his soft voice made more tears spring to her eyes. She didn't deserve his care or his kindness. She was a princess born to a throne of nothing. "They don't see how much passion you have for your people. For them." He sat down next to her. "You're amazing and they shouldn't talk about you any other way. You're doing everything you can. More than anyone... Please look at me."

She lifted her eyes to meet his blue ones and he continued. "You cannot disappoint or fail me... I'm... nothing but proud of you. I... I could never despise you."

Proud? 

Her hands dropped to the bench as she stared at him with wide eyes. She couldn't remember the last time someone told her that. Maybe since before her mother passed. She also couldn't believe Link said so much in one minute.

Link's eyes went wide. He cast his gaze to the ground, blush flushing his cheeks. "A-am I out of line? I apologi-" 

"No, no!" Zelda reached out to place a hand on Link's arm. He whipped his head toward her.

"Thank you. I didn't realize how much I needed to hear those words." She wiped her eyes furiously. "I-" She let out a breath. "Thank you," she repeated.

"Always," he replied quietly and gave her a smile.

Zelda smiled back and let her hand drop.

They sat in a comfortable silence, listening to the trees rustle in the light breeze.

"I don't know if this is the best time..." Link's voice never ceased to startle her, she was used to him being so silent. But she was happy about his newfound courage to speak. She thought it was silly but she hoped it was her that had something to do with it.

Her curiosity grew as he reached into one of his pouches, she leaned to the side to attempt to get a peek at what he had.

He pulled out a small screw and held it out for her to take. Zelda gasped, it was one of the guardian pieces! She carefully grasped it from his hands and stared at it in awe. Her father never let her near them, even less work with the ancient parts themselves!

"I found it at the training grounds for the guardians while walking back from patrol. No one was around to give it to so I... kept it..." His hand came up to scratch the back of his head. "You always talk about the guardians so... I thought..."

Zelda let a grin overtake her face as she stared at him.

His eyes caught hers and his hand froze, his face flushed with pink. She found it to be the cutest thing ever, the usual ever stoic knight blushing at his words.

"Link. This means everything, thank you."

"I- sure." He nodded and dropped his hand. She wanted to kiss him then and there.

"No really thank you. For everything you do. Even when you don't have to." For a silly moment, Zelda wished it wasn't because of his duty to her. But sometimes she thought any other appointed knight wouldn't do half the things Link does for her. Sure he protects her, that's a given. But even when it was his duty, she felt—hoped that deep down it was because of something more.

"I want to," he said simply with a shrug.

Zelda smiled again. Maybe everything would be okay. With the calamity, her training, the future. As long as Link was there she knew she could do it. With him by her side and hers by his.

[sorceresssundries]

A Scandal In Sorcery

Chapter 2 - The Dance

Pairing: Gale x Fem Tav

Summary: A Regency era/Baldur’s Gate crossover. Set in an Alternate Universe, containing familiar faces and key events in new light.

It is, predominantly, a love-story which will contain explicit content as the slow-burning bond between Gale and Tav deepens.

Chapter 1 here

(This is also published on AO3)

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: This story is set in an Alternate Universe. Though there may be echoes of sound and flickers of light from a well-loved place, please bear in mind this is a new path in a familiar forest.  Take comfort in the familiarity and care into the unknown.  Some things are destined to come together in every universe, just as others are doomed to fall apart.

Gale Dekarios wasn’t sure what it was exactly that drew her to him. Whether it was her sullen demeanour, unconventional beauty or the fact strands of weave shimmered around her like cracked light through crystal.  

He had sensed her almost immediately as he had entered the ballroom, felt the air spark as though she was an approaching storm. His gaze drifted her way, and as soon as he met her eyes he was spellstruck. Her skin, warm and tanned, adorned with freckles, bore a delicate pink blush across the bridge of her nose and the high points of her cheekbones —a complexion undoubtedly caused by a day in the company of the sun. While the majority of women in the room adorned themselves in the season’s satin, empire-waisted gowns, she stood out in corseted robes of navy and gold, sculpted to accentuate her curves and flowing gracefully to the floor. They were daringly slit on each side to reveal laced-up boots over fitted breeches. There had obviously been an attempt to tame her hair for the occasion, but loose black curls were making a desperate escape from the tight coil they had been imprisoned in. Amidst the tamed field of the other guests, she was a wildflower. A cherry blossom in a forest of pine, and he was determined to delight in the shade of her if only for a few moments. Perhaps being coerced into this charade wouldn’t be as unbearable as he had initially feared. 

He managed to interrupt his companion from flirting for a few seconds to enquire about her.  “Mr. Ancunin, who is that over there hiding away in the dark corner?” The silver haired man winked at the young lord he was talking to, before turning to flash a disarming, pointed smile. 

“Ah, that is young Duke Ravengard. Heart of gold, morals of a white knight, blade of a hero.” He gave an exaggerated sigh, as though this disappointed him. “Shame really, he is handsome, but frightfully boring.” 

“Not him, the woman he is speaking with.”

"Ha, Ostavia Olyn, now she is a much more intriguing character. Rumour has it her family is penniless, and her father is treating her like a prized mare at auction, but hush, you didn't hear it from me," he chuckled, a hint of cruelty in his laughter. "She's a firecracker, to say the least, but I'd advise caution if I were you. I hear someone has their eye on her." Before Mr. Dekarios could press further on the matter of her admirers, the silver-tongued Mr. Ancunin had already drifted back into conversation, and the host of the evening had begun his speech. As Lord Gortash talked, Gale began delicately moving through the enraptured crowd, determined to get as close to her as possible in the hope of asking for a dance.

Despite accepting his hand, her temper still sizzled. He couldn't quite fathom what had ignited her ire, but he couldn't deny the allure of a stoked fire over a tepid rain shower any day. Intrigued, he found himself eager to uncover more about her.

Gale had been a popular hand at the Blackstaff Ball back in his days as an apprentice. Admittedly, his time away from the material plane and with his Goddess had not allowed much room for practising his steps but he found it was an easy rhythm to fall back into, especially with such an enchanting partner. 

Tav, on the other hand,  was less practiced, less graceful, and far less enchanted. It took a few delicate moments for her to find her feet. He was more respectful than some of the other partners who had dared take a turn with her. His hand on her waist was courteous, yet there was a firmness to his grip that guided her with confidence, preventing her feet from stumbling - though it did little to steady her breath. In the proximity of their dance, she caught the scent of him—sandalwood and parchment - He smelled like crisp autumn. 

“Are you managing to enjoy the evening from your hideaway?” He asked politely.

At his attempt at small talk, Tav steeled herself for another dull turn with a dull partner. The politeness and reservedness of it all was suffocating. She felt restricted and bound - constantly stuffed into conversations two sizes too small. She was sick of it all. She wanted her hair down, she wanted to smile with her teeth and laugh from her belly. She wanted to sprint corsetless through warm summer rain and spin magic from her fingers like she was born to do. 

She often felt these long evenings of repression were unproductive for someone alive with magic. She should be spending her time with her gift settled on the surface of her skin, and soaking in the cool freshness of it. Instead, she felt like it was a caged, prowling animal she was destined to tame but never master. If only she had the freedom she craved, the pure, eternal, bright freedom of someone like Gale Dekarios. He had everything she wanted, and yet here he was letting himself be paraded around like a prized possession. He infuriated her, but she supposed she would have to indulge him for now, if only for one dance.

“Very much so Saer, I find it gives me a perfect vantage point to observe the events of the evening.” She tried very hard to keep the bite out of her voice, but sharp teeth are tricky to file down.

“And what have you discovered from your vantage point, oh mysterious spy?” His tone was refreshingly playful, and something flickered in her chest and in her smile. 

“If I told you, I wouldn’t be a very good spy would I?” 

Gale Dekarios realised he was very quickly dabbling with trouble in the crackling presence of this wildfire woman. “Wizards don’t make for good spies, I don’t think we are built for all that sneaking. Let’s leave that to the rogues and scoundrels shall we?” His observation surprised her, perhaps he was more attentive than she gave him credit for.

“What makes you think I am a wizard, Saer? Do I display their famous arrogance? I was not aware I had conjured any magic tricks this evening.” His response to her indignation was a smile which could brighten the darkest midnight. She continued, starting to feel a little unsteady.  “If you are expecting a show, I’m afraid I must leave you disappointed.”

"Well, for a start, you've opted for robes instead of a dress," Gale remarked, his gaze tracing the contours of her attire with a knowing gleam in his eyes. "And secondly, you're a flame around which the weave flutters like a helpless moth." There was a charged pause, his thumb delicately brushing against her wrist as they moved in tandem. "You seem to evoke a similar reaction in those attuned to it" He slowed their dance, and his eyes fluttered to her lips. “You are most intriguing…”

She tried not to meet his eyes again, in fear she would fall into them and not be able to find her way out.  So, instead she tried to distract herself with a turn in the conversation. 

“Your date is watching us very intently, Saer. I hope I am not interrupting anything.” 

Gale snapped out of his trance, momentarily confused. However, as he spun her gracefully across the floor, he realised she was referring to Mr. Ancunin, who indeed had fixed his stare upon them with an unreadable expression on his face.

“How kind of you to show concern, my lady.” She didn’t have to look at him to know he was smirking. “But he is not my date, he is my… escort.” Tav’s expression must have given her surprise away, as he quickly stumbled up with “I mean.. He has escorted me here from Waterdeep, under instruction of Lord Gortash.” She can feel his shoulder tense slightly under her hand as he mentions their host. How unusual, she thinks, why on earth could the presence of this chosen one be so important to this particular evening?

“Surely the chosen of a Goddess doesn’t need someone to hold their hand and guide them to our modest little gathering”

He chuckled and she felt her cheeks flush, as though somewhere there’s a joke she’s missed the punchline to. 

“It wasn’t a travel issue my lady, I can assure you my navigation skills are incomparable.” She risked a glance at him then, and her fears were confirmed. His eyes were so warm and dark that the sparkling candlelight came to life within them. She found herself momentarily lost, before mentally shaking herself free from his hypnotic gaze. 

She wasn’t sure if she imagined it, but she thought she was suddenly a little closer to him than before.

“Mr. Ancunin is a senior magistrate and dear friend of Lord Gortash. He was very clear with his.. focused...message that I was to attend here this evening.” His tone darkened slightly, and for a second he appeared lost in thought. “Upon our introduction he delighted me in conversation about his influence within the justice system, and let me know I need not bother him with smalltalk about my upbringing or connections. He knows everything about me and my inner circle, apparently.” His eyes met hers again, his meaning heavy.

Tav couldn't help but admire the audacity of threatening the prized possession of Mystra in such a brazen manner. Yet, she swiftly dismissed the thought. The political machinations and power plays of politicians and playthings held little interest for her. She was on the cusp of freedom from this city, and once she ascended to the rank of archmage, she vowed not to be coerced into attending such meaningless social gatherings ever again.

Her gaze once more met Mr. Ancunin's, noting his demeanour did befit that of a magistrate. However, her learnings had taught her to view most in such positions as nothing more than corrupt bloodsuckers. A shiver of distaste ran down her spine, earning a laugh from Gale.

"You have no talent for hiding your feelings, Miss Olyn," he remarked, amusement dancing in his eyes.

Tav's lips curled into a wry smile, her gaze unflinching as she met his. "My talents are unknown to you, Mr. Dekarios, and that is how they shall remain." Here, in his arms, unfurling the bright petals of her wit, she felt herself bloom slightly—a bud with a taste of sunlight. "Maybe I am a woman who likes to make her feelings known."

His arm moved slightly further around her waist, and he leaned forward to whisper in her ear. "One certainly hopes so."

He was so close now she could feel his breath against her cheek, one hand pressed against her back and the other softly clutching hers as they moved. Her temper had dimmed, she had noticed, and just as she found herself truly relishing the sensation of being in his arms, the music came to an end, abruptly breaking the spell they had cast together.

There was a brief moment in the dip of the music, just before he let her go, which he let himself sink into. Only for a burning second. The sensation of her small hand in his, the gentle curve of her waist beneath his touch, and the scent of vanilla, how warmth sang from her skin as though her day basking outside had dazzled her into the sun itself. He wondered how that warmth would taste against his lips…

She stepped back and bowed quickly, formally, now acutely aware of the whispers breezing around them. They had become the focus of the party. It was a position Tav had always been determined to avoid, yet here they were, at the centre of it all. Amidst the murmuring crowd, she caught sight of her father near one of the bowls of punch, appearing uncharacteristically flustered and oddly alone. It struck her as peculiar.

Gale was about to inquire if she would like to share another dance with him when a figure interrupted.

"May I cut in? I would be honoured if you would grace me with the next dance," the voice came, clipped but courteous. Tav felt a rush of relief as Wyll stood by her, offering her some friendly comfort on the dance floor. However, as she turned back from assessing her father's odd countenance, she realised Wyll was not addressing her, but rather Mr. Dekarios. Wyll was glaring at him as though trying to set him alight, but the wizard seemed unperturbed. 

He bowed at the invitation. “Of course my lord, how could I turn down such a genteel invitation.” Tav once again felt out of the loop, but despite the strange tension, she felt grateful for an opportunity to step out of the limelight and talk to her father. 

He became even more nervous as Tav approached him. 

“Father. I am surprised at you!” Tav mocked. “It is unusual for you to give up so quickly. Have you finally run out of suitors to harass, or are you just gathering back your strength for another round of negotiations?” Her mood had once again soured. 

“Ostavia…” his voice was a tired plea.

“I tell you what, how about I do a lap of the room ringing a bell and sending up sparks to draw some extra attention?” 

“Tav, please… we must speak privately, there is someth…” He was speaking in a hushed tone, and Tav was becoming more and more irritable. What a dream it would be for one to be able to express their thoughts openly and at a normal volume.

“Let us speak privately at home father, Leyana will be desperate to hear all about the evening, and what kind of a sister would I be if I deprived her of such fascinating tales. I am tired and this silly circus of a party is of no use to us.”

"Silly? Oh, I don’t know. I've found the evening rather... eventful," a low, amused voice chimed in from behind Tav, causing her to whirl around. There, standing before her, was Lord Gortash. Handsome in a different way from Mr. Dekarios, he exuded a certain invitation, like a dark path veering away from busy, lamplit streets—enticing, alluring, and perhaps dangerous. Up close, he appeared more pallid, with shadows under his eyes making him appear slightly haunted. His features were undeniably strong, his eyes so dark they were almost black. However, unlike the warmth she had felt with her dance partner, these eyes held a colder, more baleful gaze. They were focused, attentive, and fixated on her.

“My apologies, my lord.” Tav gave a slight bow of her head, she ought to be embarrassed but she was having such an awful time she was past caring. Perhaps if she came across as rude to their host she would be excluded from all social events, or perhaps she just didn’t feel like being polite to any more men this evening.

"You are forgiven, dear lady," he smiled warmly. "I see you've been enjoying the company of some esteemed individuals. Tell me, what is your impression of Mr. Dekarios?" At his mention, Tav turned to see him still immersed in dance with her friend. Wyll led, both in steps and conversation, his expression bearing an uncharacteristic sternness. Whatever they were discussing didn’t look particularly agreeable.

"The legend of his magical ability certainly travels," Gortash continued before she could answer, his tone deliberate, almost intimate. "He must be absolutely fascinating for one such as yourself who is also... gifted."

At the last word, Tav's eyes whipped back to him, stunned into silence. What did this man know of her gifts? Perhaps he had heard of her prowess during her studies? But she couldn’t fathom why someone like her would be on the radar of someone so deeply entrenched in politics.

He chuckled at her. “Don’t be alarmed, my dear. Your father and I have been deep in conversation and I've been keeping a close eye on you for some time. He has much to be proud of, to have not one but two daughters gifted with such powerful sorcery.”

Tav flicked her eyes toward her father, who couldn't meet her gaze, and a wave of panic surged through her. What had he done? What had he let slip?

She summoned every ounce of composure, striving to calm her racing heart and settle her tumultuous thoughts into still waters. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Saer,” she replied, forcing a serene smile. “My sister is no sorceress; she was not blessed with…”

He laughed again, each peal a shard of ice down her spine. “She does you proud, Yondrel. Sharp as a whip and as pretty as a night orchid.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Tav’s father offered with frustrating meekness.

“Do not fear. The secret of your sister’s condition and family standing is safe with me. I promise you that,” Gortash assured, and for a moment, the veil of threat lifted, replaced by something resembling sincerity, though Tav couldn't be certain if it was genuine or merely a flicker of hope in darkness. “Do not be angry with your father, dearest. It wasn't him who told me of your sister’s troubles.”

Dearest? Who was this man to call her dearest? To bring up family secrets and slip them sharp between her ribs like a rogue in an alleyway. Tav could feel her skin crackle with anger and indignation at the gall this arrogant, jumped up…

“It was Grand Duke Ravengard. His son is a close friend of yours, yes? I’m afraid there’s no such thing as family secrets in such a close-knit, generous community such as ours. I have many friends, in many positions.” He took a step closer to her, and she could not move, her feet were made of lead. “Besides, the two of us should have no secrets between us.”

Tav did not like where this was going, she felt out of her depth and did not want to continue the conversation until she had whetted her courage and supplied some well-needed ammo to her arsenal, or at least some decent armour to protect from the concurrent blows. She did not enjoy feeling like she was on the back-foot.

“If you would excuse me, Lord Gortash, I thank you for your hospitality but my father and I were just leaving.” She bowed low and went to turn away as politely as possible, but was stopped by Gortash’s hand placed softly in the crook of her arm. 

“Such formality, my dear. I can assure you, it is not needed.” He leant forward and grasped one of her hands in between his. 

“Not now we’re to be husband and wife.”

[yanderecrazysie]

Idol Chapter 2: Game Start

I decided to keep it as Haikyuu, since that poll was winning.

Chapter One: here

Next Chapter: here

Characters: Kozume Kenma

WARNINGS: swearing, Doom being ported to a handheld gaming system

You chewed on your watermelon-flavored bubblegum, your lidded eyes giving off the impression of boredom. In reality, you were not even remotely bored- more like a nervous wreck. You exited the car and swaggered up to the door of the massive building in front of you, trying to look more confident than you felt.

Aunt Rika clearly sensed your hidden feelings, because she took your hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. Gritting your teeth, you walked through the door and to the elevator. Aunt Rika pressed the number 12 and the elevator began to move.

You looked down at your combat boots, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious… No, fuck that, this was a great decision!

You stood straighter. You weren’t going to change who you were just because this was a corporate environment.

The elevator opened to a modern lounge area with leather couches, huge windows, and sleek decor, like a sculpted bust, nice paintings, and countless- I mean, countless- posters of the same five boys you had seen in the autographed photo in the car.

A large desk stood against the wall but had no one behind it. You glanced around, playing with the hem of your suit.

“Hello, Kenma, this is your new assistant manager!” Aunt Rika announced, making you jolt a little in surprise.

Confused, you looked around the empty room, wondering who the fuck she was was talking to. Then, you spotted him, sunken into the couch and slouching heavily, his pudding cup brown-to-blonde hair barely showing over the arm of the couch. 

Immediately, your mind blanked. Shit, I’m meeting one already? I was not prepared! And wasn’t his surname Kozume? Is Aunt Riza so familiar with him that she calls him by his first name? Or do all idols go by their first names? 

While you were frantically chewing your gum at 60 mph, your aunt walked over to the couch and sat down next to the male. To your surprise, he didn’t so much as blink at either her greeting nor her presence.

You walked closer to get a better look at the idol and found that his golden-brown eyes were glued to the screen of a handheld game console. He gave a tiny nod, the only indication he’d heard anything. 

You stared at him, unsure of what to do with this guy. You could barely see his face, curtained by his blond hair and red hoodie. His expression, from what you could see was detached, as if anything beyond his game didn’t matter.

The silence seemed to go on forever and, the longer it lasted, the more pissed you got. What’s wrong with this guy? Does he not know even the slightest bit of politeness?

Aunt Rika, sensing a storm brewing, gestured for you to join her on the couch.

“Don’t just stand there! You’ll be working closely with Kenma- he’s the main songwriter of the band. It’s important to build a connection.

Ew, professionalism, you made a face, but you strode over to the couch anyways and sat down gingerly next to the male engrossed in his game. It almost felt as though you were intruding on a private moment.

Kenma’s golden-brown eyes flickered up for the briefest second, taking the sight of you in before returning to his game. A soft clicking sound filled your ears as he tapped on the buttons at top speed. You weren’t sure if he was ignoring you on purpose or this was “normal Kenma”.

Either way, it pissed you off.

“Hi,” your voice came out uncharacteristically squeaky and you tried again, “Yo, I’m (Y/n), I look forward to working with you.”

No response.

Not even a glance.

You chewed your gum ferociously, feeling both anxious and seriously annoyed.

Aunt Rika, however, didn’t seem to think the guy was rude, she simply smiled and patted Kenma’s shoulder like this was entirely normal. “Kenma’s not much of a talker,” she said quietly. Why she bothered to stay quiet was a mystery to you, considering he was lost to the world, “But he’s one of the most reliable people in the group.”

“Uh huh,” you grunted. Reliable wasn’t the first word that came to your mind as you watched him silently tap away at his game.

You fiddled with the hem of your suit jacket again as the silence stretched on, your eyes darting between Aunt Rika and the near-stranger engrossed in a video game world. What do I say? Does it even matter? Can we leave this guy and meet the others now?

Suddenly, Kenma’s soft voice startled you out of your thoughts, “Don’t worry about trying too hard. Just do your job, and we’ll be fine.”

It wasn’t much, but it was finally something.

“Right,” you said, trying to sound confident, “I’ll do my best!”

Kenma didn’t respond, but you felt as though you’d gotten enough acknowledgement from him. 

Aunt Rika smiled at you, clearly pleased with the exchange, “I’ll leave you two to get acquainted, I have to attend a meeting,” she looked at Kenma, “Make sure you’re not too hard on her.”

Kenma didn’t respond in the slightest. You reached out an arm and mouthed “don’t leave me” to your aunt, but she merely laughed in response and waved goodbye as she walked down the hallway.

You were left alone with him. Great. Fantastic. Really fucking amazing. Now, the only sound was the clicking of buttons once more.

“So, uh, what game are you playing?” you asked, figuring that would get a response.

Nope. Nothing.

You peered over his slouched form and curiously looked at the game yourself. You recognized it instantly as one of the older Doom games.

“Oh, sweet, Doom,” you said, unsure of what else there was to say, “Pretty sure I’ve beat that one.”

Kenma stopped pressing buttons instantly and turned to stare at you. His face was of the uttermost seriousness and disbelief when he said, “I didn’t know girls played video games.”

You just about slapped him right then and there.