#so my chances of getting it are um. high! and tomorrows my one year on t and tuesdays supposed to be my top surgery consult

[vampyrfagg]

anyway. might probably be incredibly over

[broodybuck]

Title: The Boy Next Door

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Rating: E

Tags: 18+ explicit smut, childhood friends, neighbors, pining, confessions, friends to lovers, first crush

Summary: Growing up, you always had a crush on the boy next door. Now, twelve years later, you might unexpectedly get your chance with Bucky Barnes.

[ao3 link]

Your parents just handed over the house you grew up in. It was that easy, now it's yours.

They want to be those typical, retired parents and move to Florida — boring! And since you've been renting a studio in Brooklyn for the past four years, you jumped at the chance to have a three-bedroom house in upstate New York. It's already paid off and your parents are wealthy enough, they don't need the earnings for their Florida condo.

You've only been back to your childhood home for holidays in the past few years. Everything has stayed the same, your parents were actually one of the few who didn't turn their daughter's bedroom into a home office or gym. They left the pink wallpaper, the twin bed with the floral comforter, and the tower of stuffed animals on the dresser.

When you arrive with your two suitcases and some extra cash in your pocket since you sold all your studio furniture, you stare up at the house. You smile from the warm memories before you glance over at the house next door.

An older boy named James lived there, but he always went by Bucky. Bucky Barnes is the name that lived in your diary for most of your adolescence. He was four years older than you which meant you had an embarrassing crush on him since you were twelve. He was nice, he always teased you when you saw each other, he even acknowledged your existence for the one year you were both in high school together — you as a freshman and him a senior.

That did wonders for your reputation, you became pretty popular even after he graduated. Still, you would've thrown away all the friends and parties for just one night with Bucky if that was a possibility.

You're not sure you ever got over your crush, more just accepted that it was never going to happen and moved on with your life. It was easy once he went away from college and three years later so did you. You never ran into him again even when you were visiting home for the holidays. It seems the Barnes' residence spent their holidays elsewhere as the house was always dark on those occasions.

Currently, it's two in the afternoon and the sun is beating down so strongly, you start to take off your jean jacket. You're sliding your arms out of the sleeves when a familiar voice makes you jump.

"Hey, y/n."

Your arms flap uncoordinatedly, still half in the jacket, pausing in an awkward position as you turn to see your childhood crush standing a few feet away from you. Bucky Barnes, looking sexier than ever.

"Oh, hi,” you splutter.

This man still has the ability to make you blush like a schoolgirl. You do some quick mental math and realize if you’re 27 now then he must be 31. And why do men age so spectacularly? He has somehow managed to become even more attractive in the last twelve years.

"What're you doing here?" you ask as you finally free your arms from the jacket.

"I'm house-sitting," Bucky explains. "What're you doing here?"

"Um, well, the house is sorta mine now."

"Parents gave you the whole thing?"

"Yep, the whole thing," you nod.

"Wow, congrats on the house," Bucky says.

"Thank you," you reply and you both stare at each other in a beat of silence.

"Um actually, since you're around, do you think I could pay you for some manual labor?" you ask suddenly.

"What kind?" Bucky grins fast. It truly takes your breath away, jesus this man should not be allowed to smile.

"I have a dumpster coming tomorrow morning," you explain. "I'm getting rid of my childhood bedroom furniture."

"Yeah, I can help."

"That would be so great, I'll pay you—"

"Don't sweat it. Just treat me to dinner sometime," Bucky shrugs, and your stomach drops. What in the world does he mean by that... like a dinner date?

"Oh, dinner... yeah, okay. You got it," you play it cool and awkward.

He smiles at you, amused.

"Anyway..." you mumble unsure how to retract yourself from this conversation, unsure if you even want to.

"You really grew up, huh?" Bucky says, and he scans you up and down.

"I guess so," you shrug, your face burning. "You too."

"Yeah, guess we haven't seen each other in..."

He appears to be trying to calculate the years but you unabashedly jump in with an exact answer.

"Twelve years."

"Has it been that long?" he asks.

"I... think so," you feign uncertainty.

"So, what time do you need me tomorrow?" he asks.

"Oh, anytime that works for you."

"How about noon?"

"Perfect."

Asking for Bucky's help might've been the worst idea you ever had. When he comes over, he's wearing a cotton-white t-shirt and jeans. His hair is damp and slicked back from a shower. He looks so comfy, it makes you imagine waking up with him. You yearn to know how warm his skin feels fresh from the steam.

You ignore your inappropriate desires and lead him up the stairs to your old room. It's then you realize how many years of your life you desperately wanted to show him your room. Have your crush see these walls, sit on your bed, and make out with you next to your teddy bear.

It's embarrassing but probably every teenage girl wanted the same thing. Unfortunately, the thought slips out of you with a laugh.

"I always wanted to show you my room."

You freeze in the doorway, realizing what you've just said out loud.

"What?" Bucky asks from behind you.

"When I was younger, I meant. I didn't mean... I don't know why I said that, actually."

You turn around and see the look of amused confusion on his face, a small smirk inching from the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, fuck it. I had a major crush on you," you confess.

Bucky's eyebrows lift high.

"Yeah?"

"You couldn't tell?"

"I thought you were just awkward with everyone," he shrugs.

"Great, so you thought I was a total loser," you sigh.

"No..." he says quickly but takes a second to elaborate. "If it helps, I didn't think about you that way 'cause you were too young for me."

"Of course, you never thought about me," you brush off, trying not to let your younger self die too much inside.

You step into the room to create any amount of space from this conversation. But you instantly remember the countless hours you spent in here thinking about him. Staring out the window at his family's house hoping the catch a glimpse of him.

"Hey," Bucky says. His hand gently touches your shoulder.

You turn around to meet his eyes which oddly look darker, more intense now.

"I could see myself thinking about you now," he admits low.

You blink, your mouth is suddenly too dry to respond.

"I mean... look at you," he says so fondly that your heart could burst. And he looks you over again, his pupils dilating even more.

Is this really happening, you think.

His right hand hasn't moved from your shoulder. Boldly, you place a hand on his left forearm and you're right, his skin is still warm from the shower.

You breathe in sharply because just touching him, just standing this close for this long is something you were never lucky enough to get back then.

His eyes are still locked with yours and it's honestly so intense you can't look away even as you see him dip his head, lowering slowly to your lips. He waits, an inch from them, to see if this is okay. Of course, it's fucking okay.

You surge the last inch forward and kiss him harder than you anticipate. He stumbles a step back, in consequence grabbing onto your waist, and pushing forward. He walks you back toward the twin bed up against the wall.

When you fall back onto the mattress, it creaks from old age, but you couldn't care less. Because Bucky Barnes, your childhood crush, the extremely attractive neighbor next door, is crawling over you. And it's glorious, it's enough to make you arch up into him and moan.

He lets out a breathy laugh and then kisses you, his knee slides between your legs and presses down. You moan even louder. You're completely shameless, you are, but this is Bucky Barnes. You're not staying quiet for a second of this.

His mouth moves to your ear and he's kissing down your neck while his fingers slip under your shirt, rolling it up.

Your shirt is off and then you're pants are coming off too. You want to get him out of his clothes but his mouth finds the front of your panties and he's teasing you, mouthing at the fabric.

"Please," you whine.

He grins against your underwear and then slides the thin fabric off and sucks his thumb into his mouth.

When he touches you, he's not gentle. He goes right in and rubs your clit roughly but you're so turned on that it's like a jolt of electricity to your body, you leap up from the mattress.

He licks two fingers then and sinks them right inside you. Oh god, it's so easy because you're so wet.

"Fuck," he mutters, realizing this. He stares down, watching his fingers work inside you. Your skin boils endlessly.

He doesn't need to spend much time working you open and he must know that because it's not long before he pulls his fingers out and hurriedly works the button of his jeans open. He pulls open the fly and pushes them down when you sit up to get his shirt. You're not letting this happen without seeing that gorgeous chest again.

You remember so many summer nights when you got a glimpse of Bucky shirtless. Running through the sprinkles or coming home from a neighbor's pool. He was stunning, even back then, but now... oh lord, now he's filled out. He has a firm, thick chest and a set of perfect abs lining his torso. Because of course, he has a six-pack, you always fall for the most unattainable guys.

But somehow you have him, right here, in your very old, tiny twin bed.

You want to lick a long strip from his navel up to his neck but he doesn't give you the chance. Once his clothes are off, he pulls your legs over his waist and pushes inside you so fast you barely have time to prepare. You cling to him with your whole body, legs and arms. And you moan low.

"Oh god, you're so tight," he husks.

You tighten your hold around his neck, he looks up at you and kisses you. You're basically on his lap so start rolling your hips slowly, getting used to how big he feels inside you.

You push him back until he lies down. And then you're riding him. You're riding Bucky Barnes in your childhood bedroom on top of your pink comforter with yellow flowers.

This is your teenage dream come true and that realization plows through you, making you ride him even harder, snapping your hips as fast as you can over his cock. And it's enough that you get a moan out of him, a low gravelly groan that you immediately fawn over.

His fingertips dig into your skin as you keep riding him fast and hard. You know you're nearing the edge, your head falls with a whimper, you grip his shoulders tighter.

"Fuck, y/n. Come for me," he breathes.

And you lose all control the moment you hear that. Fuck, you come so hard.

"Oohhh, fuckkk," you wail and stop moving to let the orgasm crash through you.

Then his hands lift your ass, just enough so he can raise his hips and start fucking into you.

"Jesus," you hiss and scramble to hold onto him again.

He keeps fucking you, gaining speed and making your eyes roll back from the fact that your orgasm can't wane with his cock repeatedly slamming right into you.

He groans, squeezing the flesh on your ass now and you can tell he's close.

He curses under his breath and then he's coming and still fucking you so hard your vision's blurring.

When he finally slows down, he blows out a long breath. He releases his grip on your ass and closes his eyes, basking in the aftermath of his orgasm.

You can feel his cock twitch one last time inside you. You carefully try to pull off him. He winces as you do, still sensitive. You lean down and kiss him, you can't help yourself.

He smiles when you break to let him catch his breath. Okay, he's totally allowed to smile when he's naked in your bed, you decide. You admire the sight for as long as he lets you.

"Well, fuck," he laughs.

"Yeah, fuck," you agree, smiling. "Not sure if I should thank you for your help yet."

He laughs. "I haven't done anything yet."

"Oh, you've done plenty," you tease and plant another kiss on his lips.

He smirks at you and runs his hands up your sides, gentle and light.

"I'll help you move the furniture," he says. "Just give me a few minutes."

"Yeah, I need a few too," you say. "At least this bed is going out with a bang."

And you both laugh. Then you look at him and already remember what he said to you yesterday. You remember almost every word he's ever uttered to you.

"So, about that dinner," you say.

He smiles wide and just kisses you.

[torahoes]

(IDOLiSH7) Ryunosuke Tsunashi - Drama Collection 2 Summer Rabbit Chat

Please note that I am not a professional translator. If you come across any mistakes, feel free to let me know and I will make the necessary corrections.

Haruka Isumi: Good work today, this is Haruka Isumi from ŹOOĻ.

Haruka Isumi: Um

Haruka Isumi: About tomorrow’s drama promotion, I don’t have much experience with location shoots so I might cause you some trouble, but I’ll do my best. Looking forward to working with you!

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Haruka-kun, good work today! This is Ryunosuke Tsunashi from TRIGGER. Thanks for reaching out!

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: It’s a location shoot at a resort, isn't it? I’ve been really looking forward to working with you one-on-one. Let’s do our best to get a lot of people to watch the drama! ✨

Haruka Isumi: Thank you! I’ll do my very besh!

Haruka Isumi: ↑ I'm sorry, that was a typo

Haruka Isumi: I’ll do my bast

Haruka Isumi: Ahhhhhhhhhhh

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: It’s okay! I got what you meant! 😊

Haruka Isumi: Mannnn, I’m really sorry

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Don’t worry about it! It kind of feels like I’m chatting with my little brother, so it's comforting

Haruka Isumi: Oh right, you have a little brother, don't you

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: That's right! I have three younger brothers: one in first year of high school, one in first year of middle school, and one in fifth year of elementary school

Haruka Isumi: All younger than me…

Haruka Isumi: I’m not usually like this, I promise!! I’m usually more well put together

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Of course! You lead your group as the center of ŹOOĻ, and I always find your performances incredibly powerful and cool!

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Oh, speaking of which, yesterday Torao-kun told me, "Take care of Haruka" ✨

Haruka Isumi: Huh, for real!?

Haruka Isumi: I mean, really!?

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Yeah, after we wrapped up filming for the drama! Maybe he was worried because the location is a bit far from the city 😊

Haruka Isumi: Torao, seriously — that guy's too overprotective, I swear...

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: I’m a bit worried about you too, Haruka-kun 💦

Haruka Isumi: Eh, about what!?

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Have you been getting sunburned during the shoots? Are you okay? I’m used to it since I grew up on an island, but it can get really bad and painful with the stinging and peeling, so I was concerned.

Haruka Isumi: Ah, I’m perfectly alright! Rokuya-san shared some good tips with me, and I’ve also been using the expensive sunscreen Torao gave me

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: That's a relief! Nagi-kun struggles with the summer heat too, after all 😅 When he showed up for the shoot in an outfit that completely hid his face, I assume for sun protection, I was surprised ☀️

Haruka Isumi: I panicked; I thought I messed up during the shoot…

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: No way! You’re a great actor! That scene where your character evolves and says, “I used to think it'd be nice if the four of us could always be together. But there’s still so much I need to learn,” really struck a chord with me! 👍

Haruka Isumi: T- Thank you! ✨ There were quite a few scenes where I was the only one sulking or crying, and they were a bit complicated, so I'm glad to hear that lol

Haruka Isumi: And Tsunashi-san, you were like the mood-maker, always cheering up your childhood friends

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Until now, I haven't had the chance to play such a lively and high-spirited character, so it’s really refreshing 😳 And since my character's rich, delivering the line, “I’ll take everything from here to here in this store,” got me really excited! Lol

Haruka Isumi: It's definitely one of those things you want to say at least once, right? 😳 lol

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Right! Lol. Filming has been a blast, including the drama-filled chaotic scenes that unfold when we have no choice but to take care of a wealthy acquaintance's son and daughter during vacation 😆

Haruka Isumi: Same here! I came to realize that this is what a lively summer vacation spent with friends must feel like. I’m pretty shy like my character, so I haven’t had many experiences like this

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Oh, I know! If you'd like, how about hanging out together sometime when we're both free? 😆

Haruka Isumi: Eh, is that alright?

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Only if you're up for it, Haruka-kun 😆 Since you’re close in age to my brothers too, I’d love to learn about what’s trendy and stuff from you ✨

Haruka Isumi: Rather, if you're okay with me, I'd be happy to...!

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Thanks! I'm looking forward to it! 😊👌

Ryunosuke Tsunashi:

Haruka Isumi:

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: I'm excited for the drama's completion...! Will you watch it with your family, Haruka-kun?

Haruka Isumi: Yes, I plan to watch it with my grandma. Though it's a bit embarrassing

Haruka Isumi: How about you, Tsunashi-san?

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: My brothers saw the commercial for the drama the other day apparently and gave me call

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Since I really took to the child actors, it seems my youngest brother got a bit jealous, so it ended up being an angry phone call 😂💦 Lol

Haruka Isumi: Cute lol. Did you guys make up?

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: As I asked him about what happened at school and other things, he started feeling better 🤝

Haruka Isumi: That's good! Being an older brother sounds tough

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Maybe it bothered him more than usual since I haven’t been home much recently 💦 Haruka-kun, what do you want to do in the summer? I'd like to hear it as a reference 🤗

Haruka Isumi: Um, I'm not sure

Haruka Isumi: Maybe have Nagashi Somen...? [1]

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Nagashi Somen!!

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: That's great! It's also something you can enjoy with a large group! Thanks for the wonderful suggestion! ✨

Haruka Isumi: I- Is that really good enough...?

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: You won't believe this

Haruka Isumi: Yes?

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: They've recently launched a raffle in the nearby shopping district, and the third prize is a Nagashi Somen machine!

Haruka Isumi: No way!!

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: And to top it off, it's named "Nagashi Somen-kun Hyper Great Ver.!" The name was so impactful that it stuck with me. Lol

Haruka Isumi: Sounds like those noodles are gonna flow super fast!! lmao

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: We have no choice but to win it now, huh?! How about we try our luck at the raffle when we hang out? 😂✨

Haruka Isumi: Absolutely!!! I'll make sure we win 🔥

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: That’s reassuring...! Then, let's have a strategy meeting tomorrow! 🔥

Haruka Isumi:

The End.

----------------

[1] Nagashi Somen: A traditional Japanese summer dish where somen noodles are served flowing down a bamboo flume filled with ice-cold water.

[27emailsicantsend]

“What if We Kind of Stayed a Secret?”: A Rina Oneshot

“Knock, knock!” Ricky said just a bit too loud as he hurled his frame through Gina’s window. He was getting better at getting through, considering he had been making this same escapade every night since the doc premiere. It was fine with him though, considering tonight was probably the last time he would need to crawl through.

Gina had been adamant about waiting to tell their friends they were dating until the waters cleared from her very public, not-so-recent break up with EJ. Gina had already been seeing some snarky remarks about her two-timing and Ricky being a homewrecker online; she didn’t need anyone else in their business.

Not yet, at least.

Gina threw the weight of her comforter off her body and ran to the window. Ricky was a lot more graceful getting in this time around, but she still worried after he biffed it hard a couple nights ago trying to come in. Practically dancing on her toes, she ran over to Ricky, throwing herself into his arms with a squeal. He returned the embrace, picking her up off her feet and spinning her around.

“Ughhh, I missed you,” Ricky said a bit too loud, before setting her back down.

Gina pressed her forehead into his before giggly whispering, “shh… my mom’s trying to sleep��.

Gina pulled her body back before guiding Ricky’s hand to her bed where she sat back on the mattress and he took a seat on the ottoman below her.

Leaning down, their lips finally met after a long day of restricted touching and longing glances. One kiss, then two, and one more for good measure. Gina’s smile met Ricky’s lips with every touch.

“I wanted to make sure I reminded you about what today is,” Ricky murmured, his breath hanging over Gina’s lips.

“Oh? What’s that?” Gina teased, already knowing the occasion.

“It’s the last day I have to hide you from the world. Tomorrow we can be ourselves. Be normal. Be free. We can finally tell people about us. And at this point, even if people in our school are still making ridiculous posts about the doc, we’ll be fine. I propose we let them have at it, because I have you,” Ricky assured, gently pressing his hand to Gina’s cheek- a reassuring gesture.

“Posts? Who in school has been making posts? I thought it was just random people online?” She asked softly, feeling the warmth of his hand caress her face. His thumb glided softly, sending butterflies into a frenzy in her stomach.

“Oh, um, there were more today after the High School Musical 4 announcement at school. It seems that even our classmates now have something to say about us… you think you’d know their true colors by now,” Ricky half-joked trying to ease the tension, but Gina couldn’t find the humor in the situation. Instead, her sudden fear made her wait to think of a response. Something to tell Ricky that those butterflies have suddenly turned into tight, wound-up knots. Twisting and twisting over again. They couldn’t say anything now. Not now that the whole school would be on their back.

This movie, along with the documentary, could be Gina’s chance at making it into the spotlight after all these years. Something she’s craved since she was little. Not telling others about their romance was also saving Ricky from a sure-fire emotional collapse, compounded with all of the other changes he was facing this year. It was too risky. Not worth it.

Ricky didn’t really give Gina a chance to respond either though, as he hopped up from his seat quickly with a, “oh well, at least I know we can conquer anything together. Right, Gi?”

But when Ricky stood, Gina was still holding tightly to his hand. She hadn’t let go, but her gaze was no longer facing him. The knots in her stomach would break if they got any tighter, but Gina didn’t know how to tell him it wasn’t time yet. All Ricky wanted was to be public with her. To have a normal senior year with his girlfriend. His normalcy equated to his happiness. For Gina, crushing Ricky was like intentionally crushing the spirit of a golden retriever by making it’s owner leave for a weekend.

But Gina sucked at improvising, so her concerned expression was very readable to Ricky.

“Hey, Gi. What’s wrong?” Ricky prompted as he softened his face, hoping he was being open enough in his body language to let Gina know she could tell him what was on her mind. They could tell each other anything. They were each other’s people now. In fact, they always kind of had been.

“Ricky… I don’t think this is such a good idea. We’re throwing ourselves into a spotlight of hurt if we go public now,” Gina admitted as she paralleled Ricky’s thumb caress by rubbing both of hers on his hand lovingly. “I don’t want to hear everyone’s opinions of us, so… what if we kind of stayed a secret?”

Ricky was taken aback by the idea. Hadn’t they been saying for the last month they would finally tell everyone about their relationship by tomorrow? Hadn’t this been the reason Ricky made sure to show up at Gina’s window each night after Terri went to bed? Hadn’t this been the thing they excitedly discussed nightly- when the documentary finally stopped airing and they could just be normal, head-over-heels teens again?

Why would Gina take that away?

“Secret…” Ricky clenched his jaw, not out of anger, but upset. She couldn’t be asking this, right?

“Yeah… I know we discussed it being another way, but Ricky there is a lot riding on the line here. You need a good reputation so school’s don’t overlook you. Unfair, but true. And I need to keep my image clean if I have any chance of making my dreams come true”.

Gina held Ricky’s grip a little tighter as her eyes turned doe-like, pleading for him to agree. Ricky’s eyes were watering over, but he continued to remain immovable. He could see that Gina genuinely meant what she said and the thought of him letting her down wrecked him to his core.

“Ricky, please?” Gina was trying not to make her tone sound like she was begging, but she was desperate. This felt like the best, most reasonable option… for now.

Gina’s eyes continued to plead for a deal, a common alliance. They seemed to fasten a reminder to Ricky’s brain that he and Gina were a team. They were in this together. And sometimes teams make sacrifices. Sometimes they throw in Hail Mary’s.

As much as it went against everything Ricky wanted, Ricky was able to remain stable enough to say, “ok, we can wait this out a little longer”.

Excitedly, Gina bounced up to meet Ricky’s height, her eyes glistening as she said, “really? You mean it? I know it’s not what you want, but if you really mean it-“

“Really,” Ricky cut her off, forcing a smile onto his face. Relationships take sacrifice. He had to keep reminding himself of that. “If it will make you happy, Gi. I’m for it”.

Gina about knocked Ricky over and she threw her arms around his neck, into a tight squeeze. Ricky laughed uncomfortably, but he was able to find some solace in the fact she couldn’t see the unease still present on his face.

Relieved, Gina gave Ricky a “thank you” before crushing her lips into his.

That gesture made all of this worth it for Ricky.

Ricky never wanted to see Gina hurt again like he saw her last winter. He made a promise to himself the night they got together he would never again be the reason she would cry (unless it was happy tears, that is). So hearing Gina’s voice easy and appeased in his ear; he was able to breathe again for just a moment.

No, none of the secrecy was what he wanted, but if the consolation prize was making Gina Porter- his girlfriend- feel at peace, then it was just like winning first place.

“We’ll make it work, I promise,” Gina reassured him, now holding both of his hands, as she gave them a shake with fervor.

“I believe you,” Ricky responded before pulling her into a hug and giving her a comforting kiss on the head. Ricky then wished Gina good night and made his escape out the same window he entered… for what was now definitely not the last night of this.

But it was worth it, because for now, he was choosing to believe Gina.

[harmonyckrs]

Act 3, Scene 4 of Twisted Veronaville: An Omen Come True

THE LAST PAGE

Pascal: (Finally, I get the chance to talk. I've been feeling much lighter since I buried the General alive...seems like they're occupied with something, though...)

Sita: Dude, it's okay! We'll get through this.

Aktu: I'm just...confused? How could this have happened? And why did it have to be twins?

Sita: Okay, I know you're distressed, but maybe we can go get boba as a little treat...

Aktu: I JUST SAID I WASN'T DISTRESSED! AND THERE'S NO BOBA SHOPS IN VERONAVILLE AT ALL! THE CLOSEST ONE IS SEVERAL TOWNS AWAY!

Pascal: (Now's probably a bad time...)

Sita: No, it's not, Pascal! Aktu, go trim the bushes. I'll take care of this.

Pascal: You're making your pregnant brother trim the bushes?

Sita: Oh, it's fine! He likes trimming the bushes. Anyway, what was it that we were meeting for again? We've postponed this for so long that I just kind of forgot.

Pascal: Yeah, um...sorry. I don't fully remember either.

Sita: (Maybe I'll just peer into his mind and see if there's anything there...) Oh! You told Hamza that we were here, but then also told us that they were here too. You betrayed us both, eh?

Pascal: (Shit! I forgot about her powers!) Haha...um...yeah!

Sita: (I can't believe this! That traitor!) Oh, you! What a silly goose you are! Good on you for murdering the General, though!...now, whose side are you actually on?

Pascal: Neither! Both of you have very valid points, and I'm hoping we can all find a compromise.

Pascal: And the truth is, I only agreed to any of this so I would have an alibi for General Buzz's disappearance. Nobody would suspect the man who disappeared before him, you know...and I found out that my brother is apparently being held captive. I should check up on him and Lazlo before something bad happens to them. So...I'm not sure if I'll even stick around to see how this story ends.

Sita: (Coward.) Hm...well, best of luck to you.

After Sita and Pascal had their conversation, Ripp had decided to pay the Capps a visit.

Juliette: Oh, hi! It's been a while since we've talked huh?...welcome back to our house! Let me know if you want anything!

Ripp: Thanks!

Juliette: So, what brings you here? Tybalt's outside with...ugh, Mercutio...and Hermia's at Puck's place.

Ripp: (It'll be easier to get to Consort through her.) I wanted to talk to you, actually. Wanted to see how you were doing and all that.

Juliette: Oh?...aw, thank you! I'm fine, though! Grandpa's decided to put me into an arranged marriage too even though I specifically said I wasn't interested in any Montys anymore...do you know Gavin Newson?

Ripp: No, sorry.

Juliette: Oh, well. On the bright side, he's postponed my arranged marriage until after college, so I still have some time to mess around before then. Nothing too serious, since it won't last anyway...

Ripp: (The relationship with Romeo must've really messed with her head.) That's understandable. I mean, there's people who go through their entire teen years without any relationship at all.

Juliette: You're not one of those people, are you?

Ripp: Believe it or not, I am. Never even had a first kiss.

Juliette: Wow. I kind of assumed there'd be a lot of people who'd be all over you...would you like one?

Ripp: (HOLY FUCK AM I ACTUALLY GETTING A KISS?) I could think of nobody better.

Juliette: (Holy cow, I actually did it! I offered him a kiss and he actually accepted it!...this must be a dream)

Ripp: (A FIRST KISS! LET'S FUCKING GO!)

Ripp rode this high for the next couple of days, even as Tybalt came by for another visit...to tell him something very important.

Tybalt: ...And I'm going to execute the plan tomorrow. I haven't been able to talk to Mercutio yet, but I'm certain he got my letter.

Ripp: (I'm getting deja vu, for some reason.) The plan to fake your death, right?

Tybalt: Yep. My main concern is timing, since my family only keeps the bodies of our ancestors in the family crypt during funeral preparations, and if they take too long I might end up getting buried alive.

Ripp: That's a couple of days, right?

Tybalt: Yeah, but I think it should be enough time...and I wanted to thank you. Mercutio and I never would've gotten along if it weren't for you...and I appreciate you breaking up Juliette and that Romeo.

Ripp: (He says Romeo's name as if it were a slur.) No problem. Maybe we can see each other again if the plan goes successfully...like in college, or something.

Tybalt: Yep...I hope so too.

And as Tybalt left, Ripp came to an immediately realization.

Ripp: I FORGOT TO TALK TO CONSORT!

Ripp: Fuck!...well, I can still call them...

Ripp: (Will any of the Capps even believe me? I don't know if there's time to stop them...but what if Tybalt does something worse? Might as well give it a-)

*BZZT*

Ripp: Huh...the power line isn't working for some reason...

???: Because I've cut it. We're ending this feud between us, Ripp, once and for all.

Ripp: (Ugh...not him again.)

THE NEXT PAGE

[nonbeas]

Um WTF

Sunday October 13th 2024

My friend is back in town for a wedding, his brother got eloped and officially had a ceremony/party this past Friday. Kyle moved to Maine about a year ago for work, so we haven't really seen him since then. Sometimes he visits but only very briefly and in time spans very far apart.

He messaged me and my best friend Gwen to get breakfast, since we haven't had a chance to meet up for a while. He ended up crashing at the wedding so Gwen and I made the plans for him, and texted him the information, hoping that he would see it and show up the next morning.

He did, so it all worked out.

Breakfast was nice. I've noticed that in conversation I'm not very good at asking questions about people. It's not that I don't care about them, I think I've been socialized in a family where people tell you what they want to tell you, and often tell you a lot of information unprompted. You don't get a chance to ask questions. Additionally, asking questions is implied that you're pressing for more information, and often is seen as rude or turns into arguments. it's like, we tell you what you want to know, and if we want you to know it, we'll tell it to you. Nothing else is required.

I don't know why my family is like that.

Then there was a band competition for one of my high schools, and that took the rest of the day. It went well. They had an alright run. There's a lot of dynamic cleaning I want to do. The kids think they're playing dynamics when they're doing the subtlest of touch changes, they like playing loud but don't have much nuance.

I think when I heard new information from the judges, my brain kicks in right away. I was trying to work out some easy adjustments based off the judge's critique, and I think I was getting on another tech's nerves. She implied we were arguing, when I was just trying to show her something, and explain what I was doing and why. I guess other people decompress and don't go into overdrive.

I have a lot of ideas, but most of the time, they don't get used.

Today is the dress rehearsal for Natalie's wedding. She requests we wear the same shoes as tomorrow, but that the dress code otherwise is "casual but cute." Unfortunately, I think everyone is going to have different versions of what that means.

I generally think I look cute if I look a little homeless at the same time. It's like, kind of grunge, hipster, disheveled, deranged, casual. I think that's cute.

In high school I wore the same jacket all the time, It was oversized, belonged to my mom, and I wore it so much that I created natural thumbholes. I would joke that I looked like a "hobo," and I was proud of it.

That was back in the 2010s, and I have no idea where this hoodie has been since. Did I wear it in college? Did it go to goodwill? Did it go in the trash?

The cafe I used to work at posted in their instagram that there's going to be a grand-reopening next week.

I'm stunned, because I hadn't heard much from them regarding my continuing to work there. I checked in once about a general ETA, and got a "we don't have one yet." That was about a month ago. They also posted they were hiring on their instagram a while ago, and I messaged them asking if I need to resubmit my resume. They said that was unnecessary. But I hadn't gotten a personal check in for the grand reopening. I also hadn't gotten a specific "we will not be re-hiring you." I did ask that they specifically tell me if they choose not to have me back on so I can seriously focus on finding new employment.

I would like to continue working there if possible, because I genuinely enjoyed it, even though it's just a coffee job.

More to come,

Bea

[seresinhangmanjake]

Signed Away: Part 4

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader Series

Summary: You find out about the contractual marriage your parents arranged with Jake’s when you were a baby. You’re plently angered by it, but Jake doesn’t seem too bothered. He might even be happy.

Notes/Warnings: typos, i’m sure, cursing, fluff, eventual smut, angst, contract marriage, loss of rights, feelings of being trapped, poor parent/child relationships, use of the word ‘whore’.

As always, comments can make my bad days worth getting through, so i’ll never not appreciate them. Reblogs and likes make me smile uncontrollably, but no pressure :)  

Masterlist

Words: 1900

-----

“So what did your mother have to say about this?” Jake asked, leading you through the front door with one of your moving boxes in hand.

The apartment was nice, far nicer than you expected; a two-bedroom with tall walls on a floor high enough that the sun flooded the space with light and warmth. Jake had picked up the keys the day before and called to tell you to start packing for the move while he spent the day furnishing the place, setting up the internet, and stocking the fridge. I don’t want you to have to worry about any of this, he had told you over the phone. I’ll take care of it all. You just start getting everything together and I’ll come get you tomorrow around noon, ok?

Jake was silent, waiting for your response, but you were too busy staring at the shape of his muscles straining under taut, tanned skin from the weight of the box of books in his arms. He was strong; he always had been. The summer before he left for college, you remember looking out your window to find him lifting weights in his backyard, sweat dripping down his torso and dampening his brow. He was a man, freshly eighteen years-old looking like damn twenty-five-year-old with years of physical training under his belt. Those college girls undoubtedly salivated at the sight of him, likely walking up and down the halls of his co-ed dorm donning revealing skirts and short towels, begging for his eye. Hell, he probably spent all of orientation week flirting and fucking and flirting and fucking some more.

You weren’t blind. At fourteen you had a very good understanding of what women wanted. Being in high school changed that perspective. You started finding the boys from middle school lacking in charm and physical appeal as freshman, and that maturity was what gained you the attention of your ex, three years older and well-experienced.

You shivered, brushing away the unwelcome memory.

Jake set the cardboard cube on the floor with a thud, put his hands on his hips, turned to you and rose an eyebrow. You realized you still hadn’t answered him.

“Oh…she’s in full support.” That brought a little smile to his face, but then you said, “As long as I don’t throw myself at you out of desperation. Because letting you fuck me so easily would just make me a whore and she doesn’t want her grandkids to have a whore for a mother.”

The smile fell to a flush, a delicate pink rising and coating his cheeks. Jake rubbed the back of his neck and released a light chuckle as he looked down to the dark flooring. His chest heaved; the deep breath pushed his perfectly carved pecks to definition against his t-shirt.

“Right, um…I’m going to go get another box,” he said.

“I’ll come, too.”

“No! I mean, you stay here. Relax or unpack.” He was already walking himself backwards toward the door, almost tripping over the threshold into the hallway. “Whatever you want, just…stay.” And then he was gone.

-----

You were going to kill him, plain and simple. Just by being who you are—with your words and your smile and face—you completely ruined him through and through, and chances were you didn’t even fucking know it. But that didn’t keep you from succeeding. He didn’t want to imagine the power you would have over him if you were actually trying. A shudder flew down his spine.

All you had to do was speak in your sweet voice words of sex and future babies and Jake turned into a blushing mess. Never in his life had he been flustered in front of a woman. Not even his girlfriend in his freshman year of high school could reduce him to the current state he was in, and she was the first girl to pay him a significant amount of attention besides his mother. But like with all of his girlfriends, he was in control then. He knew how much girls liked him well before he thought to make any of them his girlfriend. He had them in the palm of his hand the way he knew he never would with you. No, it was you who had him in your hand, wrapped around your pinky, on his knees and at your beck and call.

Jake blew out a breath and adjusted himself in his jeans. He willed his hard on to go away, praying no one else needed to use the elevator midday on a Tuesday. He wanted you; no ifs, ands, or buts about it. He wanted you like nothing and no one else.

-----

You wanted a shower, so he promised dinner would be ready by the time you were done. But it wasn’t until you walked back into the kitchen, fresh-faced, smelling like soap and clean laundry, that Jake realized the mistake he’d made in allowing you out of his sight.

The spoon he was dipping into the pasta sauce to taste fell from his fingers, sinking entirely within the marinara pool when he saw you. A large t-shirt hung over your body, the hem brushing against your thighs just barely keeping you decent, if even that could be said. Your nipples pebbled under the thin material, and god, Jake was thankful the counter stood between you, otherwise you’d get the shock of the growing tent in his sweatpants. He wasn’t so sure you were quite ready for that, which was a damn shame because pure sin was in front of him and he couldn’t think of anything other than bending you over and burying himself balls-deep in heaven.  

“Do you need help with anything?”

Jake’s mouth snapped shut, bugged-out eyes settled back in his skull, and he shook his head as he grabbed a fork to sink into the sauce, digging out the lost spoon. “No, you can sit if you want. It’s pretty much done.”

You sat in one of the chairs at the small round table, tucking one leg underneath you as you started to unfold your napkin. From your right, Jake could see your t-shirt ride up with your movement, gathering by your navel and now barely covering your ass. He cursed under his breath. Fucking torture.

He set the plate of pasta in front of you and handed you a fork that you accepted with a smile and a nod of thanks. But before the first bite could pass either of your lips, a banging echoed down the hall. Your heads twisted to the sound, then you looked back at one another, your eyebrow quirking and Jake’s two pinching in the middle. He rose, taking the napkin from his lap and placing it on the tabletop.

“Stay here,” he said, walking around the corner into the darkened hall and out of your line of sight.

As far as he knew, no one had your address but his parents. Yours hadn’t asked, thank god. Not that that would guarantee keeping your mother from you. If Deanna questioned Amelia, the information would not be withheld. His mother didn’t have it in her to lie. From that good nature, Amelia insisted on helping with the move, but Jake begged her to let him handle it alone. You didn’t need to pressure of a future mother-in-law in your brand new space while you got acquainted with it. But unlikely was she to go against Jake’s wishes by showing up now.

Peering through the peephole, Jake groaned and rested his forehead against the door. “Fuck,” he whispered.

“We can hear you, you know,” came the voice from the other side of the wooden slab. “You ought to just open up.”

So he did, reluctantly. The grins of his three friends clashed with his glare of irritation. “What the hell are you guys doing here?”

Rooster smirked, Coyote was practically hopping on his toes with excitement, and Phoenix said, “We’re here to see your new lady.”

He knew he shouldn’t have told them. But had his high school friends found out about his engagement through their parents, forgiveness would be an uphill battle. However, perhaps stupidly so, Jake thought they’d stay tucked away in Maryland until otherwise advised. “You’re two weeks early,” he snapped. “How did you even find out where we live? I didn’t give you the address yet.”

“Went to your parents’ house,” Coyote said.

Phoenix smiled. “Asked Amelia.”

“She was very willing to give over your personal information,” Rooster snorted, crossing his arms. “So, can we meet your girl now?”

“She’s not available. Come back in two weeks.” Jake began to close the door only to be stopped by Phoenix’s firm hand pushing back.

All three pouted in sync. Practiced puppy eyes shining in full force. “Why?” Coyote whimpered.

“Because I haven’t told her you’re coming and I don’t want to overwhelm her. We literally moved in today, so you all need to—”

“Jake?” Your voice came from behind him.

He froze. Fuck, he loved that sound. But of all the times for you to say his name so beautifully melodic, why did it have to be now? He closed his eyes, thinned his lips, and let out a slow exhale in preparation.

“Is that her?”

Jake shot Coyote a look. “Obviously.”

Then Phoenix was shoving past him, leading the pack in making their way over to you despite your deer-in-headlights look. “Hi,” she grinned wide, encasing your hand between both of hers and giving it a few light shakes. “I’m Phoenix.”

“Phoenix?”

She nodded, glanced at the two men beside her, and said, “This is Rooster and Coyote. We’re Jake’s friends. Well, a few of them anyway.”

“Oh,” you said with a note of surprise, looking around the group to find Jake’s eye.

He shook his head in apology and you giggled, barely, but it was there. He felt his heart clench behind the cage of his ribs. OK, maybe his friends weren’t so bad if them arriving rudely unannounced led to getting a laugh out of you.

You excused yourself for a moment, likely to go put on some pants, and three pairs of brown eyes landed on Jake.

“She’s so cute, Jake!”

His lips couldn’t help but curve at Phoenix’s enthusiasm. Coyote patted his bicep, and said, “Yea, I would not be upset about this marriage thing at all.”

“I’m not.” Jake shook his head. That was the understatement of the year. “Now go to your respective houses and leave us alone.”

“Oh, we can’t do that,” Phoenix said. “You see,” She sighed dramatically, “It’s late. Rooster’s grandmother is already in bed, Coyote’s parents are out of town, and—”

“Everyone can sleep at yours.”

“No can do. Mine were at an arts festival all day in the city and are staying in a hotel overnight. Won’t be back until tomorrow and they don’t keep a spare key under the mat anymore, so...” Standing on tiptoes, she rested one arm across Coyote’s shoulders, the other across Rooster’s.

The latter grinned. “You’re stuck with us for the night.” He glanced around the apartment. “So where do we sleep?”

 Wedding Countdown: 581 days

 A/N: Those three ending up being like Lock, Shock, and Barrel by the time I was done with this chapter. Not exactly my intention, but I don’t hate it. Also, I know I used their call signs, but it will be explained in the next chapter. Oh, and the pilot friends are not the friends from the flashback in part 1.

tags: @marvel-ousnesss @thespeeder @nobody7102 @marrianena @fangirlingoverfangirls @blue-aconite @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @dempy @chaoticassidy @alana4610 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @dracosluvbot @smoothdogsgirl @smit41 @princessphilly @kkrenae @castle-bookworms-world @xoxabs88xox @blackwidownat2814 @acupnoodle @callmemana @zippitydoda @asteria33 @the-mouse27 @111angelnumbers111 @shanimallina87 @creativitybeware @love2write2626 @adaydreamaway08 

[manesalex]

nothing starts without you (we become the stories we’ve always wanted): chapter 1/3

When Alex’s former bandmate, Rosa Ortecho, asks him to write a song to help kickstart her solo career, Alex finds himself struggling to write anything at all. Until, that is, he meets Michael Guerin. Or, a loose Music and Lyrics AU. for @alex-guerin @malexsanta​

Warnings for suggestive comments, references to past abuse, and references to addiction. Not Maria Deluca friendly.

***

“Can you get someone in soon to start making the changes?” Alex asks into his phone, looking around the cabin Jim Valenti left for him in his will. He hasn’t been here in at least a decade, but it’s his now and, while it’s almost exactly what he needs, it’s not exactly accessible.

“I’ve already scheduled someone to get started. He’ll be there the day after tomorrow. Is that soon enough for you?” Alex’s lawyer, Noah, asks.

“It’s perfect,” Alex laughs. “Kyle will be happy to be rid of me.” He’s joking. He knows that, for some reason, Kyle loves that he’s staying with him, loves the chance to catch up for so long. But, really, they both need their own space, if only so Alex can actually sleep in for once.

He’s barely hung up the phone when it rings again and he answers without looking, assuming it’s Noah again with something he’s forgotten.

“Hey, Alex,” Rosa’s voice surprises him.

It’s not that he’s avoiding her, not really. It’s just that, after everything fell apart, he’s surprised to hear from her. “Rosa,” he replies. “How are you?”

“Good. I’ve, um, I went through rehab. And I wanted to apologize. I’ve been sober for two years, actually.”

“That’s amazing.” He’s glad that something good could have come out of their band’s very painful public implosion.

“Yeah, and, like I said, I need to apologize. I said some truly awful things to you and I know you-”

“We were both struggling back then,” Alex brushes it away. “I forgave you long ago.”

Rosa is silent for a moment and then, “I’ve been working on some new music lately.”

Alex frowns. He can’t do this, not again. Not after what happened. “I’m glad. You’ve always been an amazing singer. But, if you’re calling about getting the band back together, I’m sorry, but I’m enjoying my privacy.”

“No, I know,” Rosa replies. “I just… I’m working on a new record and I need a ballad. I was wondering if you’d consider writing one for me.”

He shouldn’t be surprised at the request. He wrote most of their bigger hits, after all, even if Rosa was the face of it all. But he hasn’t written anything new since the band broke up and he’s not sure if he’s ready to go back to mining his trauma for music. He’s not sure if he even can write anything good again. “Can I think about it?”

“Of course,” Rosa answers quickly. “I mean, if you do write something, I’d love to play it at my concert on Saturday night, but– I can wait.”

“I’ll get back to you,” Alex promises. “And Rosa? I’m really glad you’re doing so well now.”

***

Alex wakes to the smell of coffee and bacon the next morning and comes out of Kyle’s guest room to find his friend busy at the stove. “I should be out of here soon,” he says, using his cane to get himself over to the table.

“You know I don’t mind,” Kyle says, handing him a cup of coffee before returning to the stove. “Having you here reminds me of our senior year of high school.”

“Dealing with all my shit?” Alex asks, careful to keep his tone joking.

“Having a brother. And knowing you were safe.”

Alex wraps his hands around the mug, eyes on it when he says, “I’m not going far. Just to the cabin Jim left me.”

 “I’m sorry he never got around to making it accessible for you,” Kyle says, still focused on the stove.

“He did more than enough for me,” Alex brushes it off. “And it’s not like he wasn’t busy with everything else.” He pauses, taking a sip before he says, “Noah is sending someone over tomorrow to get started on it. Well, that and making some necessary updates because I’m not going to rely on that ancient fireplace for heating. Not to mention all the other things that haven't changed as long as we’ve been alive.”

“Good.” Kyle is silent for a moment before he says, “Rosa called me last night. She was worried she overstepped.”

“She didn’t,” Alex replies simply. In truth, he’s pretty sure Rosa couldn’t. At least not with him. She’s been as much of a sibling to him as Kyle has been since they were kids. More than his own siblings. Rosa has been there for him through so much that he’s more than willing to give her as much grace as she needs.

“She said she asked you to write a song for her?”

“Yeah. And I know I should. She deserves it. And the second shot at a music career. I just–” Alex sighs, “I don’t know if I have it in me anymore.”

“Well,” Kyle says, putting a fork and a plate on the table in front of Alex before grabbing his own. “For what it’s worth, I think you should. And not because of what Rosa needs or deserves. It’s what you deserve.” Before Alex can interrupt, he explains, “I know you don’t want to go back to the industry, but, when you left it, I know you lost touch with a lot of your friends. And you deserve to get that back. Those friendships. Or new ones, if that’s what you want. I just– I don’t want to see you spend the rest of your life as a recluse just because some asshole told the world his version of your trauma.” He stops to smile at Alex, “And I know you don’t want to let Jesse Manes win.”

Alex laughs, picking up a piece of bacon and saying, “You’re right about that.”

***

Before the band broke up, Alex never had trouble coming up with lyrics for his songs. But now, he finds himself struggling. He has the start of a tune, but everything he comes up with is terrible.

He was working at Kyle’s house yesterday, but today he has to be at the cabin to let whoever Noah is sending inside and answer any questions they may have. So he’s not expecting to get very far today either.

He gets up when he hears the knock on the door and opens it to find a truly unfairly handsome man standing there, holding a box of tools. “Alex Manes?” he asks and it takes far too long for Alex to nod in response. “I’m Michael.”

“Nice to meet you,” Alex replies, finally offering his hand to Michael’s to shake.

Michael’s hand is warm and his grip oddly comforting and Alex maybe holds it for a moment too long before letting go, judging by the uncertain look on Michael’s face when he lets go and the way he runs his hand through those gorgeous curls.

“Um, the bathroom is just through there if you want to get started on it,” Alex gestures. “If you have any questions, I’ll be over there,” he points to the couch. “Trying to write some music.”

“It might get kinda loud. If you want me to come back later or something–”

“Honestly, the noise probably couldn’t hurt at this point,” Alex laughs.

Michael nods and Alex returns to the couch, trying to work on the song, but mostly getting distracted by Michael walking in and out of the cabin with tools and supplies, paying far too much attention to the way Michael’s jeans ride so low on his hips, the relaxed way he walks, and that damn belt buckle to do more than repeatedly strum the tune he’s already written.

Even when Michael is out of sight, though, busy working on installing bars in the bathroom, Alex can’t seem to get anywhere. It’s not Michael, after all, but him. After having his private problems aired to the entire world, he can’t seem to use them to write a single thing.

He finally just gives up, setting his guitar in its case and picking up his phone, turning his attention to his messages. Unsurprisingly, there are none. After all, he doesn’t really have any friends or family other than Kyle anymore. And that’s his own fault. He was more than happy to disappear from the public eye. He lost a lot of friendships when he cut the rest of the world off.

He’s just about to put his phone back down when he hears Michael singing something to the tune that Alex had been playing.

He gets up as quietly as he can, walking towards the bathroom, curious about what Michael is singing.

Once he can hear it clearly, he knows it’s good. Better, maybe, than anything Alex has written. And he can’t help but wonder why Michael is here, installing bars in his bathroom when he could be writing hits.

“That’s really good,” he finally says, leaning against the wall across from the bathroom door.

“Oh, shit,” Michael curses, dropping the bar he had been holding, looking back at him.

“I’m sorry. I just… I heard you singing and I– You’re very talented. Have you ever considered songwriting?”

“Once or twice,” Michael shrugs. “Long time ago.”

“Well, if you’re interested, I could actually really use your help. I’m trying to write a song for my friend, Rosa Ortecho, and–”

“Thanks for the compliments and everything,” Michael interrupts, tone cold, eyes looking almost pained. “But I’m just here to make this place accessible.”

“Oh. Okay,” Alex frowns. “Sorry for interrupting. I’ll let you get back to work.” He turns around and rushes back to the living room, trying not to think about the look on Michael’s face, trying instead to focus on his guitar and the song he’s been trying and failing to write.

***

Thanks for reading! Chapters 2 and 3 will follow later today!

[rosesvioletshardy]

4 times he tried saying i love you, and the 1 time he did - nolan patrick

so this was for the Summer Fic Exchange that @antoineroussel hosted this year and i got assigned to write a fic for @luvsherleafs

this was my first time doing a fic exchange so it took me a while to figure out what i wanted the fic to be about and making sure i met the requirements - so far i had a few mutuals read it so it made sense and that nothing was wrong so i'm hoping you liked it

*i couldn’t exactly think of anything to write at first so i used multiple prompts from both this list and this list*

the prompts i used/based the fic off are:  person A can’t sleep so they wake up person B - person B is exhausted but they stay awake with person A until person a falls asleep +

“I wanted to say i love you for the first time without stuttering but that failed”

warnings: mention of injuries, fluff

# of words: 4,901

nolan masterlist

main masterist

-----

     1. After a game

There were many benefits that came out of your friendship with Nolan. Never having to use a step stool whenever he came over because of his height and how he was tall enough to reach the highest shelves. Even growing up, he’ll sometimes put things up high so you’ll have to ask for his help or getting to go to games and sometimes getting to see the behind the scenes stuff before and after games. He was one of the nicest people you could call a friend, even if sometimes he looked like he was virtually unapproachable. It just depended on who he was with but overall he was one of the nicest people you know, and could trust and depend on him. 

The final buzzer sounded off at the Wells Fargo center, signaling the end of the game. You tried to hide yourself in the crowd for the entirety of the game and hoped Nolan wouldn’t see you. He was a little disappointed you couldn’t make it to the game because of work, especially when he was playing hockey professionally for the first time again after a rough season and managed to get a hat trick, wishing you could see it, and tried to hide the sadness behind his celebration during the game.

 People began to exit celebrating the win as you waited until it was clear enough to go back. It was normal at this point for you to wait by the doors of the locker room seeing that everyone knew who you were after seeing you multiple times with Nolan. The doors opened as each player began to leave with their respective partner if they came to the game while everyone said their goodbyes. Travis noticed you quickly by the familiar “Patrick 19” jersey you wore and you glanced back at your phone as he walked up to you.

“Hey stranger,” someone said, making you jump

“Jesus TK, don’t do that!” you told him, grabbing your chest before hugging him.

“Patty’s just doing an interview right now so he’ll be out soon,” he said as Karly walked up to the two of you.

“Figured, seeing how he played tonight,” you replied as Nolan exited the room, just ready to go home

“Alright man, I’m done are-” Nolan began, but broke into a smile when he saw you.

“You’re here? I thought you had work?” he said surprised, giving you a hug.

“Well technically I did but I managed to get off early. And by early I mean, I have to go in early tomorrow,” you explained as you pulled away from his hug.

“Well that sucks but I’m glad you made it!” He gave you another hug, as TK and Karly left.

“Of course I would make it and I’m glad I did.” You started to walk out, but he stopped you.

“Thanks, uh,.” Nolan hesitated, wanting to get his feelings together to tell you how he feels. “There’s something I need to tell you.” 

“Go ahead, what is it?”

“Uh, we’ve been friends for a long time and I started to realize something...” he started, 

“What I realized was-”

“Patty! C’mon! We’re going to celebrate!” Claude yelled over at him.

“What were you saying? It sounded important, tell me as we walk.”

“No, it’s fine. Um, it can wait.”

“You sure?” 

“Yeah of course,” he nodded as they left together, upset to lose the chance to tell you while riding an adrenaline high and good energy

         2. After a heartbreak

It hadn’t been that long since Nolan tried to tell you how he really feels. He knew what he was doing especially since you were already in a relationship and didn’t want anything to ruin your friendship. It’s what runs through his mind most of the time but he sees you’re always happy when you’re out with the person you’re dating and sometimes it hurts him but he won’t admit anything yet.

It was another Friday night and while it was still the regular season it didn’t mean that he didn’t get to have days off. When he did, he tried to enjoy them as much as he could since they gave him time to think, whether it was just about hockey or if it was just about his personal life, and it was some of the few times where he didn’t have to worry as much. The most he did that day was go for a run, skate, and run errands, now he was relaxing watching whatever piqued his interest. Nolan was soon snapped out of his thoughts when he heard knocking on his door. He didn’t order any food nor was he expecting  anyone to be at his and Kevin’s apartment for the night since Kevin was out and had his own keys. Pausing his movie, he got up and opened the door to find you standing there with tears streaming down your face.

“Hey what happened?” Nolan asked, concerned, stepping aside to let you in.

“He cheated on me,” was all you could say when you walked into the apartment and into his arms for a much-needed hug.

Nolan couldn’t help but tense up a bit after you told him that but quickly relaxed and took you to the couch to sit down. Going into the kitchen to grab you some water, he thought about whether it was the right time to tell you how he felt. When he came back he found you drying your eyes before looking up at him as he handed you the water and sat back down.

“You okay now?” he asked, not knowing what to say

“I don’t know how I feel. I’m feeling so many things at once, but now I just feel like I’ve been betrayed. I told him he has until tomorrow evening to leave,” you tried to explain but can’t help feeling frustrated. Nolan nodded, listening to you and shaking off the urge to hurt the guy, knowing it would hurt you more.

“Do you want to stay here tonight and then tomorrow I can go with you back to your place?”

“Yeah I’d like that. I’m sorry for bothering you on one of your days off-”

“Y/N, it’s fine. You can always count on me to help you no matter what is going on or what happened.”

“Thanks Patty, you’re gonna make a lucky girl so happy someday,” you smiled at him, not knowing how badly he wanted to be with you.

“Yeah I hope so,” he mumbled, watching you get comfortable and engrossed in the movie.

Throughout the rest of the movie Nolan couldn’t pay attention to what was playing on his tv and just let it play until he looked down and realized you’d fallen asleep with your head on his chest. It was late and he didn’t want to disturb you, but still wanted you to sleep comfortably. He gently shook your shoulder and whispered your name to wake you..

“Hey, Y/N? C’mon let’s get to bed. You don’t want to sleep on the couch, I’ll sleep in the guest room and you can take my bed,” Nolan said, and he picked you up to take you to his room. You were too tired to protest and your head still hurt from all the crying so you couldn’t argue with him.

Nolan laid you down on his bed before pulling the covers up and leaving some painkillers on the nightstand for you to take in the morning in case your head still hurt. You soon closed your eyes again as Nolan left his room to get settled in the guest bedroom for the night. It wasn’t his bed and he had trouble sleeping but soon his eyes started to close with the tv in the background as he thought about you before slowly falling asleep. The only problem was that you weren’t able to sleep. After Nolan left, you felt your sense of security and the one person you knew you could always trust was in the other room. You wanted him to be with you but you didn’t want to bother him thinking that he’d be most likely asleep after seeing him try to hide his yawns when you were venting to him. After staring at the ceiling for a few minutes, you got up and went to the living room to see if he was there before not finding him there. Slowly going back, you decided to check the guest bedroom and slowly opened the door to find him asleep with the tv on. At first you didn’t know whether or not to awaken him before walking in quietly. You never noticed how peaceful he looked when he slept and it killed you to wake him.

“Nolan?” you whispered hoping he’d wake up, but he didn’t. The most he did was go from sleeping on his side to his back.

“Nols? Patty?” you tried one more time, this time shaking his shoulder. He opened his eyes, momentarily disoriented.

“Y/N? You okay?”

“Yeah, I just couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t stop thinking, and I felt safer with you and-” “It’s okay, c’mon,” he said, scooting over making room in the bed.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, it’s just sleeping,” he said, cringing slightly at his words.

“Just sleeping,” you echoed, in a thoughtful tone that you’re not sure he noticed as you slipped into the bed beside him.

Despite being more comfortable, too many thoughts were running through your head, keeping you from relaxing.

“Nols?”

“Hmm.”

“Are you mad that I didn’t listen to you the first time you met him?” you asked hesitantly, scared of his answer.

“I’m not mad, it was your choice to make. I’m just disappointed ‘cause you deserve a lot better.”

“Thanks. I’m too tired to talk about it anymore.” You roll over to face him.

“It’s okay. What do you want to talk about?” He gave your arm an encouraging rub.

“I’d rather hear what’s on your mind.” 

“Oh, just how the rest of the season is going to go, if anything’s going to set me back, how much I l-” he cut himself off

 He didn’t want to put any pressure on you by admitting his feelings while you were vulnerable, and especially didn’t want to lose your friendship

“How much you what?”

“How I value our friendship…”

“Yeah, keep talking...” you said sleepily and he continued to talk about his hockey schedule, and what plans he wanted to make for the off season if they didn’t make playoffs… and so on until you both dozed off

      3. At a party

It was the holidays which meant holiday parties happening and you were going to be invited to every single one of them. You somehow managed to make up excuses for some that you didn’t want to attend, saying you had either other plans or that your family was in town and you wanted to spend time with them. At this point you didn’t remember whose party you’d gone to and whose party you hadn't gone to. The only one you felt most comfortable attending was Claude and Ryanne’s annual Christmas party. It was an expected invite considering how close you became with the team after they understood how close your friendship was  with Nolan. They felt like a second family now..

The house was crowded with the team and their families, children running around and playing with each other, adults watching them carefully while talking to each other as Christmas music played softly in the background. You were talking to Karly and Ryanne about the rest of the season and your plans for the holidays. You glanced over Karly’s shoulder to see Nolan chatting with Phil and Bee before locking eyes with yours and smiling. The two women noticed you were distracted and exchanged glances, before Ryanne spoke up.

“So, Y/N, when are you and Nolan going to stop eye fucking and admit your feelings for each other?” she asked you innocently, making you choke on your drink.

“What?” you squeaked in confusion.

“You and Nolan? I mean we know you like each other.”

“No, we-- we’re just friends. I’m still fresh from a breakup— I’m not--.”

“Oh please-” Karly began, but Nolan interrupted just in time.

“Hey, can I borrow you?” 

“Yeah, I’ll talk to you two later,” you say, ignoring the knowing smirks on their faces as they sipped their drinks and turning their backs to you while walking away

You and Nolan made your way through the crowd of party-goers, making sure not to hit any of the kids. Stepping onto the porch, Nolan closed the doors before walking over to where you were leaning over the wood railing. The night was quiet and the only noise that the two of you could hear was the faint holiday music playing back inside the house. Neither one of you spoke but you could tell that Nolan wanted to say something by the way he was fidgeting and hesitating when he’d try to speak.. 

“I need to tell you something.”

“Can we talk?” 

You spoke at the same time, making you laugh.

“Go ahead, you go first. You seemed like you needed to get something off your chest,” you say, and his shoulder relaxes a little.

“Thanks. I haven’t been sure how to say this,” ” Nolan started

“There’s this girl, and a lot of people seem to know I like her, the only problem is, whenever I try to tell her I get interrupted…”

“I’m sure you’ll get your chance,” you say, unable to truly encourage him, but wanting him to be happy.

“About that, we’ve known each other a long time, and I’ve kept it to myself…” he paused to take a deep breath, clearly nervous

“What is it?” you asked, hating to see him uncomfortable

“Y/N,  I’ve been scared to say--”

“Hey guys it’s Secret Santa time, c’mon!” Claude called, sticking his head out the door.

“We’ll be right there!” you replied before turning back to Nolan.

“What were you going to say?” you questioned as he shook his head with a sigh.

“I don’t wanna have to rush through it, let’s not keep them waiting.” he said giving an awkward smile before walking towards the doors. You didn’t say anything as a frown etched upon your face before shaking it off and putting on a fake smile and walking back inside.

The rest of the night was filled with curiosity, this was the third time he tried to tell you something but someone or something got in the way. The rest of the night he couldn’t keep his eyes off you as you laughed and talked with everyone as they opened with whatever gag gift they had gotten.  

     4. During a training session

You’d do anything for Nolan and he knew that. You were there with him during his draft day and he would always text and call throughout the entire time he was getting drafted. Whenever he asked you to go to a game before and after the NHL you’d always make sure that you didn’t have anything to do that day so you could go. There was only one thing you gritted your teeth through, and that was training with him. It didn’t matter whether it was on the ice or whether it was lifting weights you’d still go with him, because you liked the quality time you got to spend with him. He usually would cut you some slack if you looked really tired, and just let you sit on the bench while he finished his sets. This was one of those days where he had asked you to train with him by himself before the rest of the season continued after the holidays. 

Nolan was up early and already at your apartment ready for the day while you were still in bed before he knocked on your door. He knocked multiple times until he finally decided to use his spare keys. As he was about to insert the key, you opened the door, tired with a look on your face while he was smiling ready for the day. 

“Nolan, you’re one of my oldest best friends and I love you, but I hate your guts right now.” you said grouchily while walking away and into the kitchen after letting him inside, missing his pained expression over your ‘I love you’.

“You agreed, and offered to be my workout buddy when everyone else bailed. So technically this is on you. You could’ve politely declined and that  would’ve been fine, you know that” he said as he grabbed some mugs for the coffee you started to prepare for the two of you

He got caught up watching you move about your kitchen, comfortable and beautiful even though you’d argue that you were a mess. No matter what you were wearing or how you looked, Nolan would always compliment you in some way. It was until he noticed that the shirt you were wearing was one of his from his Brandon Wheat Kings days making him smile at the memory of you at his last game with them. He never had a problem with you taking his clothes seeing how often you stayed at his place, both in Philly and in Winnipeg and he offered you to wear his, especially if you two went out and you were wearing something uncomfortable. 

Nolan snapped out of his thoughts when he heard the coffee machine beep before grabbing it and poured it into the mugs, preparing yours by memory before handing it over to you. The two of you exchanged light chit chat until you went to get changed to head to the gym and not the ice today based off of his outfit. 

The ride to the Flyers gym was quiet. You usually got to listen to Nolan talk about his plans for the offseason if they didn’t make it to the playoffs or anything that came to his head, but not today. You could tell something was bothering him. The only sound through the entire ride was the playlist he had made for the two of you that shared all your favorite songs, even songs you loved that you didn’t tell him or show him were on the playlist. 

When you both arrived, you both went your separate ways and did your own things. You couldn’t help but look at him whenever he did pull ups, his shirt rising a little, showing off his v line, and you needed to try to focus on keeping good form while you lifted your weights. You got lost in your thoughts so much that  you were startled when Nolan touched your shoulder to get your attention.

“Sorry, you were really deep in through. You okay?” 

“Yeah of course. What do you need?”

“I need you to spot me,” he said

“Sure, sorry I have a lot running through my mind right now.” 

“I know the feeling.” He grunted as he added weights onto the bar.

Nolan began his set while you spotted him, and you were unable to resist taking a peek at the tattoos that scattered his thighs, noticing a new one next to the winged heart. A small ghost and a tall ghost, an homage to your Halloween costumes as kids that you’d thought would be funny because neither one of you could think of anything better. He hadn’t mentioned it to you, only the ghost on the skateboard.

“Hey, when did you get the ghosts tattooed?” you asked when he set the weight down

“Um, not too long ago, I got the one on the skateboard and it felt incomplete so I got the little one too. Completely slipped my mind.” He laughs, seeming a little embarrassed

“I love it, it feels nostalgic,” you say with a smile

You headed over to where the medicine balls were and grabbed one to do some squats, and Nolan decided now was as good a time as any. You were alone, and couldn’t possibly be interrupted. So he swallowed his nerves and walked over to you.

“You’ve been such a support system for me since we were teenagers, and the tattoo reminds me of that,” he began.

“I think it’s really sweet, Patty,” you replied

“The guys have always teased me like brothers  since I joined the team and I told them about you, and how important you are to me...” he stated as you listened carefully

“And during those times they would always make fun of me for never saying this but, Y/N, I lo-” he tried to say before getting cut off by the door opening loudly revealing Coots and Jake

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Nolan groaned under his breath, heading out of the gym without another word.

“What was that about?” Coots asked.

“Something about his tattoo?” You said, unsure, and quickly grabbed both of your stuff to catch up with Nolan.

+ 1

        5.  After an injury

Going to games was a normal thing for you. Nolan made sure there was a ticket reserved in your name for every home game so you could attend. At first you were more comfortable in the stands than in the box with the wags, but eventually you would join them later on. The only time you didn’t watch a game in the box was whenever you were on a date and they had suggested you go to a game. He hadn’t minded, preferring to see you happy and not upset and that you had a good time with them. During those times, he would do anything to get your attention and show off that you were friends with a professional hockey player. You’d give him the side eye while glaring at him, occasionally telling him to stop messing around before going over to where a kid was around you and tossing them a puck. 

That was one of the things he enjoyed about being a player, not only his love for the sport but also seeing kids happy. You always enjoyed watching him play but it also sometimes made you nervous seeing how accident prone he was, especially knowing he’d do anything to protect his teammates. He was a big guy, but some of the guys he went head to head with were bigger and it couldn’t end well. It made you worry that fighting could worsen his migraines and how he already had to sit out an entire season because of them. He would lie about being in pain but you could see right through him. 

He had gotten his migraines under control when they happened but you always knew that something could trigger them again. You’re the first person he’d admit to being in pain to, and you’d always help him through the migraines until he felt better again. Nolan sometimes felt bad that you’d put your life on hold just so you could be with him no matter how many times he’d told you that you didn’t have to stay. It was one of the reasons why he loved you. You’d always put others before yourself and would take time out of your day to make sure that they were okay. 

You were sitting in the box with Karly, talking ahead of the game, watching  Moose lead them out onto the ice for warmups before the game against the Rangers. You saw how Nolan began to skate around half the ice while shooting pucks in trying to get past Moose. Karly noticed the way you were watching Nolan, but kept her thoughts to herself, already knowing about all the interrupted confessions through TK. She knew things would fall into place for you both, at the right time.

The game was going rather smoothly against the Rangers during the first and second period, despite no one scoring but close goals happening a few times. Third period is when it started to worry you because of how you saw Nolan becoming frustrated with himself after missing a shot. It wasn’t until a couple minutes later that he was shoved into the boards head first, causing his helmet to come off. You jumped out of your seat and grabbed Karly’s hand, hoping he’d get up as his teammates skated over to him. You knew it was serious when you spotted the team medic and saw TK pick him up to get him off the ice and into the locker room. 

You waited a few minutes to see whether or not he’d come back and sit on the bench but it wasn’t happening, so you got up and headed to the locker room. You were used to his injuries throughout his entire hockey career both in the NHL and in juniors but they still scared you every time and you didn’t want him to miss the rest of the season, especially if they needed to clinch a spot in playoffs. 

Before you got to the locker room you ran into TK, who was coming to look for you

“Is he okay?” 

“He could be worse. He won’t be able to finish the game and might miss a few more... they want him to get an MRI just in case,” Travis explained as the two of you reached closer to the door

You walked in moments later, and found Nolan reclining, clutching an  ice pack to his head over a towel. He was staring at the ceiling trying to keep himself focused and alert. He turned to look at  you, sitting up straighter and gave you a weary smile already knowing what you were going to say but nothing came out. You couldn’t say anything but returned his smile, sitting next to him on the free chair as Travis gave Nolan an encouraging nod and returned to the game.

“Hey,” he mumbled.

“Hi, how are you feeling?” you asked, brushing the stray hairs away from his face.

“I feel peachy keene,” he tried to joke, making you smile a bit as he cleared his throat. 

“Hurts like a bitch,” he admits quietly

“And I broke my promise to you again.” 

“It’s hockey, fights and falls happen.” You grabbed his free hand

 He knew that was his chance to finally tell you seeing that no one can interrupt him this time as Travis told them to wait a while before they go in after the game before he left to get you. He took a deep breath and all the anxiety he was feeling left his body.

“Y/N, I need you to listen to me for a sec.”

“Yeah, of course, go ahead,” you replied with a concerned look on your face.

“We’ve been friends since we were in middle school. You were the new kid and I was the dorky kid that sat next to you.” he started as you smiled at the memory

“It took you a while to warm up to me since I annoyed you almost every single day trying to get you to talk and it worked. You’ve stuck by me since then. Through my horrendous mullet that you hated, whether it was my natural hair color or the bleach blond which I don’t regret by the way, even though I know you hated it, and now with my professional career. You’re always with me throughout all of my injuries and you were with me when I got drafted. Hell, you even moved to Philly with me even though I didn’t ask you too. My family loves you and considers you as another child to them. I’ve seen you at your worst and at your best, your happiest and your saddest,” he groaned at the end, having rushed through the words, making his head throb. 

“I've been in love with you for the longest time and I’ll always be in love with you,” he stuttered through, throat already dry from his confession

Your silence makes him worry, and he tries to look at your face, but you smile and he relaxes.

“You’re so important to me. I never wanted to ruin our friendship by admitting my feelings…I love you too.” You say as your words made him look at the ceiling, as his cheeks flushed

“We’ve been hurting our own feelings about each other, haven’t we?” he laughed looking back over at you

“Yeah we have,” you agreed

“If I’m honest, I wanted to say I love you for the longest time without stuttering or failing and it happened” he laughed before continuing

“Can I-” 

You interrupted him with a kiss, reading his mind. When you pulled away, you rested your foreheads against each other for a moment, pulling away just in time to see  around 18 men pour through the door on top of each other, looking at the two of you before quickly getting up, making you two laugh.

“Sooo?” Travis asked.

Neither of you spoke a word, holding up your intertwined hands and smiling, causing everyone to start cheering, but immediately shushing themselves when they saw Nolan wince at the loud noise. 

“I'll let you get changed. I’m going to go wait with the other girls. I love you.” you said to him kissing his forehead, avoiding his cut and stroking his hair again.

“I love you too. I’m so glad I get to say that now. I’ll see you outside”

[stealingpotatoes]

Never Isn't Forever

Summary: Julianna’s grown up with countless stories of Captain Colt Vahn, but she still doesn’t know what to expect when she meets her father. 

[also on ao3]

--

“Mom, can you tell me about Dad again?” 

Snow was falling lazily outside, casting the moonlit buildings in a blue-ish white. It looked like another world, so different to the warm and safe orange of the lights in Julianna’s little bedroom. The yellow-patterned walls and the happy clutter of toys across the floor couldn’t be any more distinct from the cold brick that Julianna’s mother was about to shut out. 

Lila paused her shutting the curtains to give her ten-year-old daughter that wistful smile, one that only came out when someone mentioned him. “I thought we were going to finish The Great Whale tonight?” she asked, her black ponytail falling over her shoulder. 

“We can finish it tomorrow,” Julianna bargained pleadingly, holding her pony plushie tight in her pink-pyjama clad arms. “Please can you tell me about Dad?” 

“Again? Don’t you know everything by now?” Lila half joked, tilting her head.

“I want to know more. Please… it’s for um, history reasons.”

“Well in that case, of course,” Lila smiled, and gently sat down on the end of Julianna’s bedsheets. “I could never keep you from your research! What do you want to know?”

It always went like this. Lila would try -- or pretend to try -- to get Julianna to talk about something else, but fold like a stack of cards after two pretty pleases. They practically had a routine by now. And Julianna couldn’t exactly break it by not eagerly asking the same question she always started with, could she?

“Hm… what was my Dad like?” she asked. 

Lila sighed distantly, eyes drifting to the floorboards below. “He was… brilliant. He was so bright and strong -- sometimes a little too stubborn. And he was funny,” she chuckled, “really funny.” 

“Was he funnier than me?” 

Lila lifted her eyes to the sky, really exaggerating how hard she was thinking. “Hmm… maybe. Though you’re pretty hard to beat in the comedy department.”

Julianna grinned, squeezing plushie with glee.

At that, Lila chuckled again. “You have his smile, you know.”

“Really?”

“Mm-hm,” Lila nodded, lips pressed together. “And his eyes.”

“What else? Tell me more,” Julianna leaned forward, feeling her short curls of hair bob about her face as she did. She wanted to know everything about him. Even what she’d heard before, she didn’t care. She could hear it again and again and again. 

“Um, let’s see… you already know he was the single best pilot the world had ever seen. But really, baby, he could fly anything,” Lila said, her hands splaying out on the last word. “It was really something to see him in the air -- whether you were in there with him, or on the ground. He was amazing. You would’ve loved to see it him up there.” Lila swallowed. “You would’ve loved to see him...” 

Julianna sensed the immediate drop in the mood, like someone had cruelly shoved her mother’s remote joy off a particularly high cliff. 

Julianna knew, vaguely, that he was missing-presumed-dead. But she’d had never asked how they knew that, why her mother was so certain-and-uncertain of Colt’s fate, and the dip in the mood seemed the perfectly wrong moment to finally sate her curiosity. “How did they know he was gone?” she asked quietly.  

Lila’s mouth folded into an failed attempt at an apologetic smile. “They don’t,” she shook her head. “But we never got word or… anything from him, so it was presumed. That’s what the scientists told me. And after a few years the entire program shut down, and… well, I’ve told you all this before.” 

“So he could still be out there?”

“Julianna…” 

“Yeah, I know, I know,” she sighed. Tonight might have been the most Lila had ever said about Colt’s disappearance, yet still, Julianna couldn’t even count how many times her mother had told her that yeah, maybe he was alive… but the chances were astronomically small. It wouldn’t do either of them any good to think he was still around, lost on Blackreef. It wasn’t worth getting their hopes up for something so unlikely. For something so impossible. 

“Now come on baby, it’s getting late,” Lila smiled. She stood up, ready to close her daughter’s flimsy white curtains. “You have school in the morning, and I have work.” 

“Can you tell me the story about when he first took you flying? Quickly! And then I’ll go straight to bed, I really promise. Please?” 

Lila’s wistful smile returned, and she held out a finger briefly as she came to kneel by Julianna’s bedside. “Alright, but just the one story…” 

--

She wasn’t here just for him, obviously. 

Objectively, the research was important and groundbreaking. And this was the opportunity of a lifetime, to be the archivist of such a momentous, historic experiment. More subjectively, Julianna was almost born on Blackreef. As much as she wanted to help make history here, she wanted to learn about the island’s already-made history. The history she was a part of… that her parents were a part of. There were so many reasons for her to join. 

But… she would have been lying if she said that meeting Colt wasn’t at least one -- however small -- of the reasons she joined the Aeon Program. And she’d expected this. She knew it was coming… so why was she so nervous?

Julianna was the last Visionary to arrive on Blackreef. An archivist hadn’t been the most immediate concern for them all, but as the program progressed -- it was just under a year in, now -- she assumed they’d realised the need for documenting this great leap into the unknown. While she was little offended on behalf of her profession that they’d gotten an entertainer before an archivist, Julianna had passed all of Dr Serling and Dr Evans’s tests and interviews for the Program -- obliterated them to perfection, really -- and now she was actually here. 

Frank Spicer and Harriet Morse, heads of recruitment, had greeted their new archivist and a host of new Eternalists as they arrived on the dock in a great big Aeon-labelled boat. Both were swamped by excited Eternalists, but Frank had managed to keep his fans away better than Harriet had kept her followers, and he’d done most the talking. He’d drawled out a few starter things with what seemed like a smoky lack of care for protocols, before insisting that really he needed to show her round more than talk her to death. 

Once Harriet had managed to calm and leave her devotees, they’d given her a quick tour, starting with Karl’s Bay -- which Harriet seemed to have claimed as mostly her own. Then to the Complex, where Julianna had met Egor Serling and Wenjie Evans, who both seemed alright, though the former was a bit too eager (or egotistical) and the latter a little too busy for the three of them. Wenjie had, at least, promised to send all research she deemed archive-worthy over to Julianna at the earliest time convenient, which was far better than what Fia or Charlie had given her in Updaam. Charlie seemed almost afraid of Julianna, despite the odd confidence he was displaying, and Fia was smiley but obviously couldn’t care less about the concept of an archivist. 

Aleksis, on the other hand, was far too excited about the concept of an archivist. He positively couldn’t wait for her to write all about him. He was going to be a handful -- as were they all, really -- but Julianna had always liked a good challenge. 

He’d delayed the day’s itinerary by a good half hour at least, and while  outwardly happy to be shepherding Julianna through her first day, Julianna got the feeling Harriet wanted to get back to her loyal followers soon. 

Now, finally, they came up on Fristad Rock, one of their last stops -- and where Julianna was to meet the last of the Visionaries. Where she was to meet him. 

Julianna stepped out of the car just before a half-blocked road stacked with building supplies and other trucks, and into the light wind of Fristad. Frank stepped out of the driver’s seat at the same time and quickly adjusted his jacket before throwing his arms out wide. 

“Welcome to what will be the best place on this rock, my Ramblin’ Rock Club,” Frank grinned charmingly, gesturing to half-built structure across the bridge ahead.

Julianna smirked as the three of them walked towards it. “Didn’t you say that about the Library, too?”

Frank narrowed his eyes and grinned, shaking a finger at her. “That sharp ear is why we picked you as our archivist, Miss Blake.” 

Julianna gave him a short chuckle. The building did look like it planned on being impressive. A horde of builders and Eternalists were moving around the area -- most of them not noticing the Visionaries, but a few passing wide-eyes and whispers between them -- operating and assisting the cranes. 

Frank and Harriet artfully guided Julianna through the mess. Julianna had to utter the odd apology as she almost bumped into a person or two, but neither of them said a thing. 

“The security office is this way,” Harriet pointed to the coast, where a small and fully-constructed structure -- a box more than a building -- stood at the end of a pier.

“He oughta be out by now, I told him to watch for us. Fuckin’ Aleksis, throwin’ us off our rhythm,” Frank muttered, shoving his hands on his hips as they all stepped onto the fenceless pier. 

But as if on cue, the box-building’s door swung open, and out came a man in a light leather jacket, swiftly walking towards the small group on the pier. 

Julianna’s heart paused in her chest. 

“Colt! There you fuckin’ are,” Frank drawled, his smokey throat rasping with glee. “Julianna, meet Captain Colt Vahn, our distinguished head of security.” Frank introduced eagerly, continuing his saunter so he was about half way between Julianna and Colt. 

The two of them met eyes for a moment, and Julianna was greeted with an overwhelming urge to just say it. To tell him, right here, right now, exactly what they were to each other, what they should have been. But she forced the childish idea down. That would be insane, and unprofessional at the very least -- especially on her first day. But… shit, he was real, and here, and alive, and… he looked just like every crappy-quality photo her mother had of him, barely seeming a day older. It felt wrong, in such a right way, seeing him alive and around and in that same jacket he seemed to wear in every other picture. It felt…

Frank jolted her out of her mild bewilderment with a gentle nudge, seeming to have noticed her pause. He leaned over, half-shielding his mouth. “I know Colt seems all tough, but he’s all soft and cuddly on the inside. You won’t have to worry about him,” he said in the loudest possible stage whisper. 

Julianna let out an amused huff while Colt rolled his eyes, stepping forward to shake Julianna’s hand. 

“And Frank seems like he knows what he’s talking about, but he’s really full of shit half the time,” Colt said with a playful glare at Frank, as Julianna took his hand and shook it. “Hi,” he greeted. 

Julianna laughed a bit. “I’ll have keep that in mind when I’m archiving,” she joked. 

Frank shook his head with a tut at the Captain. “You better not be ruining my chance at a good history,” he admonished. Frank and Colt were clearly close, a stupid fact that Julianna couldn’t help being almost jealous of. 

“Well done on passing all Egor and Wenjie’s tests, by the way. Pretty impressive, I honestly didn’t think anyone was gonna do it,” Colt said with a smile. It wasn’t like Frank’s charming and charismatic smile; it was something more genuine, warmer. Maybe it was just her imagination, but it felt… homely. Warm. 

You have his smile, you know. 

“Oh-- thank you,” Julianna beamed, taken a little off guard by the sudden compliment. Why was she acting so sheepish all of a sudden? This wasn’t like her. 

“Is now a good time to discuss security? It’s protocol, all the Visionaries have gotta know it--” 

“Actually, we have a fair bit of the tour left,” Harriet cut in before Julianna could answer. “We’re behind schedule.” 

Julianna didn’t massively appreciate being spoken for, even if it was in a tone as acid-sweet as Harriet’s. But hey, she was going to spent eternity with Colt, right? There’d be plenty of time to talk then. And to work out how the hell she was going to tell him -- if she ever was.  

Colt nodded, seeming like he expected this. “Alright, good luck with the rest of the day. I know you’re gonna be real busy for a while, but make sure to drop by my office--” he pointed a friendly thumb behind him-- “soon, so I can run you through the all that necessary security stuff.” 

“Will do Captain,” she said with a half-assed mock salute. 

Colt huffed amusedly at the title. “Good meeting you, Julianna,” he waved as he walked backwards to his office. “See you soon-- or whenever Aleksis throws your welcome party!” 

Julianna gave him a tiny wave before he turned around in full, leaving the trio of Visionaries across the pier.

She was vaguely aware of Harriet stepping away, ready to finally finish her welcome duties and get back to her Two Paths. But Julianna couldn’t take her eyes off the bridge, off the man that should have been a ghost. Off the man that she should have known her entire life but had met for the first time today. The timeloop wasn’t the weirdest thing about this place. 

“I know it’s been a pretty whirlwind day for you, but it’ll all come together, Miss Blake. Blackreef will feel like home soon enough,” Frank said with a comforting hand on Julianna’s shoulder. 

Julianna’s eyes were bright as she finally turned away from Colt. “Honestly, I think it already does.” 

[jaehyunnie77]

Crave

summary: All the sexual tension leads up to one house party with none other than your best friend Jaehyun.

pairing: jaehyun x f. reader (featuring johnny and mark)

genre: college au; f2l!, smut, humor, fluff

warnings: alcohol, daddy kink, fingering, dirty talk, oral recieving (both), overstimulation, unprotected sex (wrap it up kids)

word count: 3.5k

taglist: @jaehyunfirstlove thank you for encouraging me <3

a/n: I wrote this for fun one night haha I tried my best since this is my first time writing a smut and fic. I hope you enjoy this as much as I had writing it <3

---

“Hurry up y/n! By the time we get there all the booze will be gone and I won’t get to see Johnny!” your best friend yelled from the living room. “You always see Johnny” you yelled back from the bathroom. “Not the point! I’m trying to get some dick!” You could only roll your eyes and chuckle. “Give me a second. I’m almost done!” If you were being honest, you didn’t want to go to the house party your friends Mark and Johnny were throwing. 

The two guys and your best friend have all been pointing out reasons to go out, especially after your break up with your ex boyfriend. “Y/n, you need to have some fun and live a little. You can’t stay cooped up in your room or in the library forever. That’ll just make you more weirder.” Mark said one afternoon. “Yeah, and you have nice clothes y/n! They need to see light!” your best friend chimed in. You knew there was no point in trying to argue your point, so here you are, on a Saturday night, getting dressed in what feels like forever, to go to a house party. 

You leaned over the sink to put on your lipgloss and do a glance over of your makeup and looked at yourself in the mirror. After weeks of wearing nothing but baggy shirts, sweats, and no effort in doing hair and makeup, you hardly recognize yourself. In replacement, you are wearing tight black jeans that hugs your waist and a red crop top along with black heels. You definetly didn’t recognize yourself. As you made sure everything was to your liking, you headed outside to the living room where your best friend stood. 

“About damn -” she gasped and you instantly felt panicked rushing through your body. 

“What? Is it too much? You know what I’m just going to change.” you said already turning back. 

“No! You look hot as fuck! If I wasn’t chasing after Johnny’s dick, I would be making moves on you.” you both laughed. 

“It’s not too much though? I haven’t gone out since -”

“No, here is what we are not going to do. We are not going to talk about that sore loser of an ex of yours tonight, tomorrow, or any other night because tonight you are going to find someone and get laid!” You couldn’t help but groan out loud. “Trust me y/n. You deserve a night out to have fun and just be you again. You look beautiful.” She gave you a cheeky smile. Before you could say anything, she was pushing you through the door. 

By the time you arrived 10 minutes later to the party, you were honestly speechless. Sure you’ve been to other parties before the boys threw, but nothing compared to tonight. What was supposed to be the front lawn was full of people and even the balcony was people. It looked like the entire school was here partying. Once you found the front door, more people crowded the entire house with bodies against one another, red cups and bottle of beers on every surface, and smoke in the air. Without wasting any time, you both walked toward the kitchen to get yourselves situated. 

As you were about to grab a drink, you were greeted with hugs and yells from Johnny, Mark, Yuta, and your best friend Jaehyun. “About damn time you two got here! We were wondering who kidnapped your sexy asses.” Johnny said, already tipsy. He gave you a one sided hug as his eyes roamed all over your best friend. 

“Oh yeah, what would you have done if my sexy ass was kidnapped?” your best friend flirted back. You couldn’t help but fake vomit as you see your two closest friends flirting in front of you. 

“If you guys are going to flirt and fuck, please don’t do it around me.” you fake  gagged making everyone laugh.

You were then handed a shot glass and when you looked at the owner of the hand, you find yourself smiling widely at Jaehyun as his arm wrapped around your waist giving you a one sided hug. He gives you his infamous smile and dimples as he pulls you close and whispers in your ear, “You look beautiful.” At this point you forget how to breathe because the smell of his cologne and the way he makes you feel becomes all suffocating. 

You and Jaehyun first met in your first year of college in one of your shared classes. At first it was small talk, asking questions if either of you written down notes from the last class, to studying together at the library to coffee runs and making movie nights at one another dorms. Within a short span of time, you two were inseperable and becoming the best of friends.

Sure you have found him extremely attractive, but you knew better than to let your emotions get the best of you. Plus, you were dating your ex, while he had flings here and there. You knew there was never a chance for you both to be more than friends. Or so you thought. 

With your last relationship, Jaehyun had helped you through your break up and made sure to keep you occupied. He did a good job if you’re being honest because after two weeks, you forgot all about your ex. 

One night after a heavy studying session in your room, things got interesting. You don’t know how it happened or who made the first move, but next thing you knew, you are kissing your best friend! The kiss was hot and needy and it made you feel all the tingles everywhere in your body. No one broke away and the more you two made out, the more you craved for him. You found yourself straddling him and begun to grind your hips down on him. You could feel his bulge grow, earning a tiny moan from him. He gripped your waist and started to move you faster against him. Just then there was a loud knock on your door. “Delivery.” You both sigh as you get off of him. 

You come back with the food and didn’t know how to look at him. “Um, I, that...” you stuttered, embarassed at what just happened. He looks at your flustered state and starts to chuckle. You look at him wide eyes as you let out a laugh.

“It’s okay. Glad we got that out of the way.” he said.

You scoffed and threw the nearst pillow at him, not bothering to dissect his words. His laughter booms throughout the room. He calms down and looks at you seriously. “Honestly though, it’s okay y/n. I know I’m hot.” he laughs again. 

“Jaehyun! Oh my god. Shut up!” you cried back as you start to lightly hit him anywhere on his body you could hit. 

As much as you wanted him to make you feel good and fuck you dumb, you weren’t ready to risk your friendship just yet. From that day on, you two never talk about it nor made any other moves to steal kisses or have sex. That didn’t mean you two stopped flirting with one another or the sexual tension in the air. 

With two or four, maybe six, shots downed and however many refills you had, you had lost count, you were having fun. You and Mark played beer pong and won against Yuta and Jaehyun, to which Jaehyun wasn’t that pleased. When he looked over at the table in disbelief, he couldn’t help but soften his emotions when he saw you smiling and laughing. He thought to himself that he would let this go just this once. 

After your victory, you roamed around to the living room and began dancing with a couple of people you’ve seen in classes. Your best friend was nowhere in sight, most likely upstairs with Johnny. Feeling loose and happy, your eyes stopped at the man across the room whose eyes were all on you. 

From where Jaehyun stood, he could see how much fun you were having. He loved the way your body moved to the music and how all he wanted to do was take off those jeans that clunged to your body. He was leaning against the wall and couldn’t stop himself from having thoughts of what he could do to you if you were his. There was no denying that when you two were left alone, there was always an electrufying electricity throughout the room. He wanted more and he was ready to take that risk. He craved you. 

You began walking towards Jaehyun, eyes never leaving one another. His eyes were dark and full of lust and made your whole body shiver. As if the universe was on your side, ‘Pussy Fairy’ started to play. You gave him a smirk as you turned around and started to dance on him. He puts his whole chest behind you, his head finding its way to your neck, and match your movements. You were thankful the room was dark to hide your flustered face as his breath brushed against your skin. 

He kisses your neck ever so softly, letting out a moan only for him to hear. You felt high on ectasy. He put his index finger under chin making you turn your head to him as he kissed your lips. What started off as soft and teasing turned into hunger as your tongues collided exploring ones mouth. Oh how you missed his lips. You pulled away smiling at him as he studied your face, understanding what you wanted. He put his drink down as he took your hand and guided you upstairs to a nearby empty bedroom. 

He closed and locked the door quickly and pushed you against the nearest wall kissing you. You grunt as you felt the sudden impact on your back. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this moment.” he said in between kisses. Your tongues were fighting for dominance, but you knew better. You sucked on his tonuge earning a moan out of him. Satisfy with yourself, you bit lightly on his buttom lip. 

He undid your jeans sliding them down and helping you out of it along with your panties. He kissed you up until he was back to your lips. Your arms around his broad shoulders and hands in his hair. He put his thigh between your legs as you mindlessly bucked into him. You could feel him smirking. 

“You’re so fucking sexy. Will you let me be yours tonight?” he asked looking into your eyes. 

“Ruin me ... daddy” you quietly say. 

“Say that again.”

“Ruin me da-” before you could finish your words, he inserted a finger into you. A loud gasp leaving your mouth as your eyes rolled back.

“You’re so wet baby girl. Daddy is going to ruin you tonight.” he inserted another finger, stretching you out completely as you moaned loudly. God his fingers felt magical inside you. He kissed and bit your neck as his other hand started to caress your boob. “So fucking perfect.”

“Jae, I’m going to cum.” 

“Cum on my fingers baby.” 

Without being told twice, you felt your release flowing through you. He helped you ride out your high, fingers never stopping from pumping into you. He kiss your lips and withdraws his fingers and place it into his mouth. “Mmm. You taste so good.” He takes off your top and bra and walks you back to the bed. You helped him discard his shirt and jeans, leaving him only in his boxers. 

He settles in between your legs as he starts to nibble, flick, suck, and massage both your breasts. You were so turned on by his touches and mouth, you almost cum on the spot. “Please don’t stop daddy” you say breathlessly. 

“Does my baby girl love when daddy’s mouth is on you like this?” he lightly bites your erected nipple. All you could do is nod, words completely leaving your mind. “Words baby.”

“Yes daddy. Please don’t stop doing that.” you bucked your hips towards him. 

“Not yet princess, I’m not done yet. Now be a good girl for me and don’t cum until I say so.” he leaves trail kisses down your stomach to your thighs and to your slit. He circles his tonuge on your clit making you arch your back. “f-fuck” you say. 

“Is all of this for me?” he teases you. With every lick, every squeeze he gives your breats, you felt yourself losing your mind. As he sucks on your clit, he inserts his fingers and pumps into you. 

The feeling is so overwhelming you were close. “J-Jae, I’m so close. Please.”  you begged him. That just made him more determine to make you cum for the second time. He looked up at you between your legs and see your o face and that in itself was the perfect image for him. He loved that he was the one making you feel good and calling out his name. Your hands gripping his hair a little too harshly, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was making you feel good. 

He could feel your body begin to tremble as he put his arm over your stomach to keep you in place and the other over your thighs to keep them open. Without warning, you are cumming for the second time. You felt hazy and on cloud nine, his tongue making you oversensitive. 

He lets go of your clit with a pop. “Did daddy say you could cum? his deep voice sends a shiver down your spine. He gets up to take off his boxer and his hard cock springs up. You couldn’t wait any longer as you got on your knees bending foward and taking his cock in your hands. You looked up at him with innocent eyes as you gave his cock a stroke and kisses along the side and finally the tip. He hisses at the sight of you as you put him in your mouth. You bobbed you’re head up and down before he put puts his hands through your hair keeping you in place. You take him in deeper until he was hitting the back of your throat.

“Oh fuck y/n. Just like that. You’re a bad girl, but daddy loves your mouth so fucking much.” 

You pulled him out of your mouth with a pop to get air. Saliva and precum dripping from your mouth. You giggled and take his cock into your mouth again as he thrust into your mouth. You tried your best not to gag, but the sounds you were making made him thrust harder. “Fuck you’re going to make me cum!”

He pulled you back and gently pushed you back onto the bed. Before you could adjust yourself, he lined up his cock at your entrance and thrusted into you knocking out the wind in you. “You’re so big!” your head rolls back onto the pillow as you could feel every inch of him inside you as he bottoms out. He stills for a second to let you adjust to him. “You’re so tight baby.” You grabbed his face down to yours and kiss him. 

“Ruin me Jaehyun.” you say breathlessly.

He pulls out leaving only the top in as he starts to pound into you. With every thrust felt like heaven. The bed starts to hit against the wall at his rapid pace as everything around you turned into nothingness except for him, the slapping of skin on skin, both of your heavy breathing, panting, and moaning. 

The sight of you underneath him was enough for him to hold out on his orgasm. Jaehyun wanted to show you just how badly he wanted you. Your tits bounce perfectly as he pounds into you. The moans coming out of your mouth, his name rolling easily off your tonuge. He leans foward, his forehead against yours, as he perfectly hits your g-spot. ��ohmygod, fuck right there, daddy don’t stop. please don’t stop!” you pleaded as you clenched your walls around him coming undone, stars blurring your vision. 

You could tell Jaehyun was nowhere near his orgasm as he slows his movements down. “You’re so beautiful. How did I get so lucky?” he kisses your lips softly and moves again Everything was too much for you, but you loved the feeling of his cock in you. 

“Jae please, I don’t think I can take it anymore.” you stated as you have tears in your eyes. 

“You’re doing so well baby. Oh so good for daddy. Can you hold on for one more? Just one more princess.” You nodded your head the best you could as he flipped you over onto all fours. You tried your best to hold yourself up, but as always without warning, Jaehyun rams into you, making the new position feel bliss. You collpased into the bed as you muffled your screams and moans into the pillow. He grabbed your hair, pulling you up to his bare chest. 

“You like this don’t you princess. No one has ever made you feel this good huh?” your brain turned into puddle as you try to look for words. You feel your legs begin to tremble as his thrust start to become uneven. 

“Yes daddy I love your cock stretching me out.” 

“I can’t believe we never fucked until now.” he says in between breaths before reaching down to rub your clit. “Cum with me baby.”

With one final thrust he releases into you filling you up as you reached your fourth orgasm of the night. 

He kisses between your shoulder blades before collapsing next to you. You two lay there for a moment catching your breaths. 

You were the first to break the silence, “That was amazing.” You turned to face him as you see sweat glistening over his body and his hair sticking to his forehead. How could he look so damn attractice after sex. You no longer felt intoxicated from alochol, but intoxicated from Jaehyun instead. You two look at each other before he pulls you to him and cups your face. He presses his soft plump lips onto yours. From what was hunger a minute ago, was replaced with gentleness and love. 

After your last relationship, you didn’t know if you would ever fall in love again, but in the last couple of months, you realized you fell in love with your best friend without meaning to. Or maybe you had always loved him since the first day you two talked. Unbeknownist to you, he was already in love with you from the moment he laid his eyes on you. 

“I love you.” he quietly says as he strokes your hair mindlessly. You look at your interwined hands as a smile crept up on your face. You looked up at him, “I love you too Jung Jaehyun.” He looks at you with loving eyes as you give him another kiss and falling asleep in his arms. 

It was 7 in the morning as you had a throbbing headache. The memories of last night still lingered in the air as Jaehyun’s arms are wrapped tightly around you. You felt safe with him and you wondered how did you ever get so lucky to have him in your life. 

There was a loud banging on the door and you remembered that you both fallen asleep at Mark and Johnny’s house. “Hey! Get up! Come and help clean up this house!” Mark yells. 

Jaehyun groaned at the loud banging and held you tighter. You couldn’t help but laugh. “Good morning cutie” you say as you give him a morning kiss. His eyes flutter open as a smile crept on his face. “Good morning beautiful.” He snuggles his nose against the crook of your neck. You try to get up to get dress when Jaehyun grabbed your wrist and pulled you back to him.

“Jae we have to go. I’m pretty sure the person who lives in this room wants his room back.” 

“Eh Mark can wait. It’s not like he can make do the dishes when I do them every night.” 

“Huh?” you look at him confused. 

He realizes your confusion and chuckles. “The guys asked me to move in with them a couple of months ago. I thought I told you or at least one of them did.” 

You gave him a are you serious right now look and pout. You smacked his chest lightly, “No they did not and neither did you!” 

He laughs wholeheartedly and pretends to be hurt. 

“I’m sorry princess.” He gives you a kiss to the lips. “I was so lost in being in love with you, I forgot to mention it. What can I do to make it up to you?” he kisses your forehead, cheeks, nose, jaw, and finally your lips. He lingers there for a second before a smirk is plastered on his face. “Want to go for round two?” he wiggles his eyebrows and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Jae I love you, but I’m sore.”

“I’ll be gentle I promise.”

Without waiting for a response, he climbs on top of you.

Far in the distance, Mark is heard pounding on another door asking for help to clean the house. 

[bnhaisliterallymylife]

Creatures of the Forest

I haven’t written anything on here in months, and to be honest I should be working on my novel rather than this. But, I’m a whore for EraserMic and can’t resist the temptation. Plus, I have a weakness for Monster AU’s, so I’m going to have fun with this.

Also heads up, I did not proofread, and story details might be a little muddy. I am tired and horny, and I will now go to bed.

Word Count: 5,242 (Kill me.)

Pairing(s): Jinn!Shouta x Female Reader x Siren!Hizashi

Warnings: 18+, dub-con, fingering, double-penetration, anal sex, vaginal sex, creampie, and probably more filth.

Premise: You just wanted to have some time yourself, and considering how cheap the cabin was you couldn’t pass up the chance at a countryside getaway. And they couldn’t pass up a chance of you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The cabin is not what you expected, but nonetheless you just felt glad at the chance to get away from the city for awhile. Your job has been stressing you out for months, and your family is no better. You booked out this one bedroom wood cabin from the 1970s for the next two weeks, a vacation away from technology and far, far away from the thoughts that kept you from yourself.

When you first arrived you checked out the whole cabin only to find cobwebs and dust covering nearly every surface, and the appliances were horrifically outdated. So, you decided to spend your time cleaning it up a little so you didn’t feel like a spider was going to crawl into your mouth in the middle of the night. Good thing, too, because you managed to find a fiddleback in its nest just under the bed. Now, you might hate spiders, but you’re by no means a killer.

“Work with me here, otherwise one of us is gonna get hurt.” You carefully manage to put a plastic cup over the agitated spider, and using a piece of paper you’re able to carefully take it outside. You don’t want to leave it near the cabin, and you don’t want to leave it out in the open field - what if a bird got to it? You have no choice but to trek out past the lovely field of wildflowers to the dark forest that lay just beyond it.

The trees tower over you as the sun begins to set in the distance. You’re not that far away from the cabin, but hearing the branches rustle against each other as the wind blows a warm summer breeze across your skin sends goosebumps over your body. It would be best to quickly release the spider and get out of there.

You go over to the nearest tree at the very edge of the forest and take the cup away from the paper. There the spider sits, rearing back as a threat, but its dramatics do nothing to you.

“You’re not so scary out in the open, are you?”

“He could probably say the same to you.”

You drop the paper and cup, whipping your head around to find the source of the melodic voice that had spoken to you, but no one is there.

“Over here, little bird.”

Your gaze falls back towards the forest, and just a few feet in front of you is a man with long, golden blonde hair that cascades down to his waist. He’s tall, probably six feet if you had to guess, and he’s wearing a tank top and jean shorts that show off his toned body almost too well. Then there’s his eyes, a green so bright that it contrasts the darkness of the forest.

“What are you doing here?” This land is supposed to be private, or at least that’s what the listing said.

“Sorry! I forget my manners sometimes. I’m one of the owners, you’re Y/N right?” Oh, one of the owners! You remember now, the listing mentioned that the owners of the property lived elsewhere on the land and might come by to check in on things.

“Yeah. You know, the cabin could have used a cleaning. When’s the last time you had anyone else here?”

“Somethin’ like five or so years. You like it though?”

“It’s... Cozy.” The sun seems to be disappearing much faster now. “Minus the spider.”

“Unfortunately we can’t do much about nature, little bird.” You want to ask him not to call you that, but you don’t want to be rude. The cabin is pretty cheap and you’d hate to cut this trip short because of a nickname. “But, if ya want my husband can come spray the cabin for pests tomorrow. I could bring by some food, too.”

“Oh, no thanks. I think it was just the one anyways.” The point of this whole trip is for you to get some alone time, and inviting this admittedly alluring man and his husband over would go against that.

“If you’re sure...” He trails off, glancing towards the spider that is now climbing quickly up the side of the tree. “If you do change your mind though, let us know! We don’t like pests around here, either.” You chuckle a little at that, but by now you’re already starting to back away from the forest to head back towards the cabin.

“I’ll keep that in mind, sir!” You call back, now intent on getting across this field as quickly as possible. But, his next words feel like they’re a whisper in your ear, making you jerk your head back towards the forest. My name is Hizashi, little bird.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After unpacking that night you found yourself exhausted from the long travel to the cabin. After checking that all of the windows and doors were locked securely, you went to bed thinking about the blonde in the woods and the plans that you had for the next day. Your eyes closed with those thoughts mingling together as you fell into a seemingly deep sleep, unaware of the eyes that watched you from just outside of the bedroom window.

“She’s even better than I imagined...”

“You shouldn’t have gone to her today, it’s too soon.”

“If we wait too long then we’ll lose our chance! Let’s take her now, she wants to be far away, so we’ll take her far away.”

“We need time, and permission.”

“Well, I know how to get one of those things.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the sun peeks through the bedroom window you attempt, and fail to stifle a groan. It might have been a good idea to bring curtains with you, but you suppose that it’s part of the woodsy experience. You sit up and stretch your arms high above your head, unaware of the creature slithering across the floor until you put your feet down and hear a hiss. Immediately you pull your feet back onto the bed with a high-pitched scream. The rattlesnake coils itself up and sets its eyes directly on you, only a few feet away from the bed.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.” You mutter to yourself as you reach for your cellphone on the side table. Unfortunately for you, the snake leaps forward and takes a snap towards your arm, eliciting another screech from you and making you back yourself against the far corner of the bed. “Go to the woods, you thought, it’ll be a great experience!” You mock yourself, now looking for anything nearby that you could use as a weapon. You could toss the blanket over it and try to make a run for it, but what you miss or what if it still managed to get you?

“Y/N!” You hear Hizashi just outside the cabin.

“We heard a scream, is everything alright!?” Another voice joins him, likely his husband.

“N-No! There’s a snake in here!” You glance towards the window to see it cracked open. Didn’t you lock it last night? “I can’t get past it!” You hear some banging at the front door, but shouldn’t they have a key? Or maybe they didn’t want to just walk in? “The window to the room is open! Hurry!” How close is the nearest hospital if you get bit? How long would it take you to die?

When you see two figures come around to the bedroom window you feel like you could weep in relief, but they hesitate.

“Is it okay for us to come in? How close is the snake?” The dark-haired man asks, and in your panic you don’t even question the absurdity of the first question.

“I-It’s close to me, you can come in. Be careful though.” You’re much quieter now, thinking that maybe your yelling only made the creature on your floor angrier. Hizashi’s husband only then pushes the window further open, sticking one leg inside to stabilize himself before coming all the way in. The snake is too focused on you to notice the new intruder.

“Y/N, my name is Shouta, and I need you to follow my instructions. Can you do that for me?” His voice is low and smooth, it calms you instantly.

“O-Okay.”

“Good girl. Pick up the blanket from your bed very slowly, try not to make any sudden movements - he’s more scared of you than you are of him.” You highly doubt that, but nonetheless you lean down very slowly while Shouta sneaks around the back of the snake to grab the blanket. “Very good girl.” Your face flushes at the almost sensual compliment. “Now, throw it onto the snake. Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe.” His reassurance calls you to action, tossing the thin blanket onto the snake. It hisses and wildly whips around under the blanket until Shouta manages to scoop up the blanket like a bag and tie it off. Just like that, your ordeal is over.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay now Y/N, Shou’s got the big bad snake.” Hizashi is suddenly by your side in an instant. When did he come through the window? His hand is on yours as he gently guides your shaky body off of the bed.

“I don’t even know how that thing got in, I-I locked every door and window last night! I double checked everything, I cleaned yesterday, I just don’t...” Why was the window open? Did she maybe get up last night and open it? It did get pretty hot last night... Quite suddenly, you’re extremely aware of how bare you feel in your cute light blue cotton shorts and black sports bra. You hadn’t even thought of it during your state of panic.

“I’m going to take this guy outside and let him go. Hizashi brought a dish over for you to try, if you want the company.” The two of them don’t seem to mind your half-dressed state, but you do.

“Sure, um, do you mind stepping out for a few minutes though.” You release Hizashi’s hand and grab the sheet from the bed to cover yourself. They understand pretty quickly, but both men didn’t mind it. If anything they want to see more of your soft, beautiful skin.

“Sorry ‘bout that beautiful! We’ll give ya some space!” With that, both men are leaving your presence and you feel like you can breathe a sigh of relief. What just happened? It feels like it all happened at once, but you can’t say that you aren’t relieved by their excellent timing. You decide to slip on some normal jean shorts and a faded AC/DC tee-shirt you got a few years back.

When you step out of the bedroom you can see Hizashi already bustling around the kitchen, humming in a way that made you feel warm little fuzzies on the inside. Shouta is sitting at the dining room table with his dark eyes shut. You take a moment to silently admire Hizashi’s husband. He’s more filled out than the lithe blonde, and while his black wavy hair is long, it’s only a few inches past his shoulders. And then she notices the deep scar just under his right eye.

“See something you like?” Your face once again turns red when you realize his eyes have opened and he’s looking directly at you.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare-”

“It’s alright. It’s the scar, right?” When he says this, Hizashi stops his cooking momentarily to look back at you and his husband.

“Oh, no! I don’t mind scars, scars can be sexy!” Why did you have to say that? An amused smirk slides across Shouta’s lips when you say this. Hizashi, meanwhile, lets out a chuckle that makes the air around you feel too light.

“Well of course scars are sexy! Why don’t you tell little bird how you got that scar?” As he says this you come to sit at the table. You may as well indulge them, they did come to your rescue after all.

“It’s not that interesting.” Shouta waves it off, but he can tell that you’re interested. “Unless you want to hear about it?”

“It’s not like I have anything else to do.” You shrug, and with that you get to spend the rest of your morning with the two men.

Apparently, Shouta had a run in with a man trespassing on the land and got a knife pulled on him. He said it wasn’t that interesting, but the way he told it captivated your interest. The guy was probably a hunter, or a thief, but they never found out. The local deputy came to get the guy after the confrontation, and that was that. They continued to talk with you long after breakfast had finished and you all had eaten, asking you about your interests, your passions, the reason why you came out here. You don’t know why, but when they ask you these questions you answer without a second thought. You think that it’s because no one has ever bothered to listen to you for this long, and the couple makes you feel as if you belong here, like you’re a person who deserves to be cherished. Originally you came here to be alone, but when you’re with them you feel something that you never felt back home. You just can’t quite describe it. Hours pass, and it’s well past noon when the two men decide to take their leave.

“If you see anymore snakes-”

“-Or if you just want our company-”

“-just give us a call on the landline.” Shouta finishes for the two of them as they walk out the front door.

“Sure thing, thanks again. I don’t know what I would have done if you two hadn’t come over.”

“Probably woulda sat there, desperately waiting for your prince charming to come save you. Good thing you already have two of us.” Hizashi’s joke manages to get a little giggle out of you.

“You’re cheesy.” Shouta grumbles, though you could see a small smile on his face as well. “Come on, let’s leave Y/N alone.” You watch the two of them walk not down the dirt road that you drove on to get here, but back through the forest that encircles the cabin.

Once the couple is gone, it’s like you snap back to reality. This morning was crazy, and you got lucky, but you swore that you locked that window shut last night. Deciding that perhaps it was better to enjoy the rest of your day than continue to obsess over the snake incident, you take a sketch book and go out back to draw the pretty flowers in the field.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The night feels even hotter than the day, making it near impossible for you to cover up in any way. Long ago you stripped yourself bare, sprawling yourself on top of the covers with a sheen of sweat covering your body. If you didn’t feel the cool air struggling to reach you from the vents, then you would almost think the AC is broken. Currently, you’re half asleep in an almost dreamlike state. That’s when you hear a soft whisper.

“What is your wish?”

You turn on your side, letting out unintelligible mumbles. A more soothing, honeyed voice joins the first.

“What do you desire, little bird?”

That voice sends tingles all through your body, setting every nerve on fire. It compels you to answer.

“I want...” You mumbles, eyes half open and glazed over as you give your answer. “I want... Release...” You want to feel all of your stresses disappear as if they never existed.

“I’ll give you release, kitten.”

The voice no longer sounds far away, which snaps you out of that sleepy haze and once again makes you aware of your surroundings.Your eyes adjust to the darkness to find yourself no longer in the cabin, but surrounded by looming vertical objects... Trees?

“Shhh, don’t panic, we’re here.” There’s that voice again, the one that makes orgasmic waves pulse through your eardrums. It soothes any worries that you currently have as two hands come up to your shoulders and gently lay you onto the soft ground.

They prepared this place just for you. The cabin had been a front from the very beginning, a way to lure you away from bustling city life so they could give you what you wanted - release. You didn’t know it, but you had met Shouta months before this at a little bakery just down the street from your work. You had been complaining on the phone about your new boss and how stressed you were because of your obligations, and you wished that someone would take you away from your own life. Unknowingly, you had called upon the closest Jinn in the area, and he had already taken notice of you.

“Be gentle with her, it could be her first time.”

“It’s definitely not. But don’t worry, I took care of the ex months ago.”

You can vaguely hear the conversation of the two men looming over you, but you do not react. On the inside you feel fear, vulnerability, and confusion. You can’t quite make out the figures above you, but you recognize the voices; your hosts, Shouta and Hizashi. You just can’t comprehend why they are doing this. Earlier today they were fine, sure they were getting a little too close and asking too many questions, but you wouldn’t say they invaded your space... Or did they?

“Took care of?”

“Nothing like that, he wished for a job in France, so I got him the job in France... But, he might not like that job very much.” You can hear the smirk in his voice even if you can’t see it. “It was necessary.”

“Agreed.” The hands that had pushed you back onto the pillowy moss are now moving down your sides, just barely brushing over the sides of your breasts. You barely register the sigh of pleasure that leaves your lips at the tantalizing contact.

“Zashi...”

“What? Isn’t this what we wanted?”

“We need permission.”

“We have permission! You heard the wish!”

“It was vague. I want details.” Suddenly, you can feel another set of hands gently massaging your bare feet, then moving up your smooth legs to part them at the thighs. The exposure makes you whimper, though there’s little you can do beyond that. “Release your influence, Hizashi.”

“But if we do that-”

“Release her. I want to hear her.” With what sounds like a huff of frustration from the blonde, that hazy feeling that had come over you suddenly dissipates. Your vision becomes more clear along with the two entities above you.

Hizashi has moves your arms so they’re now pinned above your head, preventing you from covering your bare breasts from their view. Shouta still has your legs spread on either side of you, but he doesn’t move any further. You meet his eyes, eyes that had been onyx earlier in the day but now glow an eerie shade of red.

“Months ago you wished to be taken away from your life. Do you remember that, Y/N?” You can’t focus on Shouta’s voice, all you can focus on is your current situation. Tings sting the edges of your eyes, and your throat starts to close up.

“P-Please...”

“She’s not going to respond like this, Shou.”

“She will, be patient. Y/N, I need you to look at me.” His voice is stern. Even though you want to look away, you once again meet his gaze. “What do you wish for now?”

“Let m-me go!” That’s your first thought, but then you feel one of Shouta’s hands creeping further up your thigh, his fingers just barely brushing over your outer lips.

“Do you mean that?” You nod your head frantically, and unbeknownst to you Shouta’s partner is giving him an incredulous look. “So, you want to go back to that stressful life in the city? You want your asshole boss to walk all over you, making you feel like you’re the scum of the earth? You want your parents to treat you like you mean nothing?” He emphasizes the final word with a hiss, and this seems to get to you. Your sniffling briefly ceases, though you’re still tugging against the tight hold of both of the men as if you could escape.

“What are you?”

“A Jinn, kitten. Do you know what a Jinn is?” You nod you head - you’re aware of the mythology behind beings like him, but how does he exist? They’re fictional! “Months ago I heard your desperate plea, and ever since then I’ve been eager to give you want you want... For a price.” His thumb brushes over your clit briefly, making your body stiffen.

“F-For sex?”

“For partnership. To be with me, to be with Hizashi, to be with both of us. It does get lonely out here.”

“And I can’t leave.” Hizashi pipes in with a sad smile. “I’m a Siren tied permanently to this forest. Remember the story about the man with a knife? He was going to hurt this place, so we had no choice. Once this place is gone, so am I.” His thumbs rub soothing circles into your skin.

“You don’t need me though, I don’t need your wishes or whatever! I want to...” You wish that you could say that you want to go home, but do you? Despite your current circumstances, you found yourself considering this deal.

“If you’re here, then Hizashi won’t be alone. I can go out for supplies without worrying about him.”

“And if you’re here, you won’t have to deal with those pesky worries you had before little bird. You get to have fun, be free, be loved by us.” But why you? Why did they want to take you?

“Because you’re special, Y/N. Because out of everyone in that city, you were the one who wanted to escape the most, who cared but wasn’t cared for. You deserve us.” Shouta drives his point home here, but he hopes that it will be enough. After all, he would prefer your consent, but it’s not entirely needed here.

“Okay.” You whisper. After all, what’s really waiting for you back home? Misery and paperwork, that’s what.

“Okay what?”

“You need to be more specific, Y/N.” You take a deep, shuddering breath before you speak again.

“I-I want release, I don’t want to go home anymore.”

“And in exchange?” Shouta pushes, his eyes glowing as he stares into yours.

“In e-exchange, I’ll stay here. I’ll be your... Partner.”

That seems to be all that they need from you, because in the next moment the two men above you are no longer clothed. You squeak and shut your eyes - it’s not the first time you’ve seen a naked man, but usually they don’t just pop out in front of you like that!

“You’re little noises are so cute.” Hizashi uses one of his knees to keep your wrists pinned above your head so his hands could get to work. While your eyes are still closed you feel his soft fingers run across your neck and past your collarbone, headed straight for your breasts. But just before they can get there, a pair of lips smash to yours. Shouta’s tongue flicks out at your bottom lip, beckoning you to allow him inside. Just at that moment, Hizashi’s fingers find your pert nipples, giving each of them a tiny pinch. This causes you to moan, and Shouta takes the chance to slide his tongue into your mouth to get a taste.

You can feel Shouta’s thick erection against your cunt, twitching in anticipation. It has been awhile since you’ve had another man, and you have to admit that the thought of being railed by these very good looking men wasn’t so bad. You start to becoming lightheaded from the kiss and constant ministrations of your sensitive nipples when Shouta finally pulls away from the kiss to let you breathe.

“Good girl.” He brings his thumb up to wipe away some of the saliva from around your lips. “We’ll put this to more use later. For now, I want to see you cum.” In what feels like two seconds Shouta is suddenly between your thighs, throwing your legs over his shoulders so he could get a good view of your waiting, wet pussy. He blows cool air over your sensitive little nub, making it quiver and throb in anticipation. Meanwhile, Hizashi finally leans down to suck one of your nipples into his mouth, flicking his tongue over the little bug while his fingers continue to tug and pinch the other. Your head sits in the blonde’s lap, his cock mere inches away from your face.

“Do you want to suck me, little bird?” As he says this in that low, melodic voice of his, Shouta flicks his tongue over your clit, making your writhe under them.

“Careful, she almost came.”

“Is my voice too much for you?” You can only pant in response, letting out a soft moan when Shouta flicks his tongue over your little nub again.

“Answer him, or we’ll make this last.”

“Y-Yes... It’s... I makes me feel good.” His voice makes you feel like you could orgasm in seconds.

“And do you want to suck daddy’s cock?” The way he words it makes you whine, but you nonetheless give him an answer.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes... Daddy.” The instant that you finish that sentence, Shouta’s mouth latches onto your clit, sucking on it so harshly that you can feel your head spin. Hizashi repositions himself so he’s kneeling right over your face, running his fingers through your hair as he guides your lips to his tip. You take his tip into your mouth and suck it softly, eliciting a groan from the man that gets sent straight to your groin.

“Fuck, just her lips are almost enough... Come on honey, you can take me deeper.” And you do, you try to relax your throat so you can take Hizashi’s cock deeper into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his base, all while Hizashi has his hands continually playing with your nipples, never letting up.

Shouta continues his work between your legs, nipping softly at your clit while bringing a finger to your entrance. He gently pushes it inside of you, giving it a few thrusts before adding a second. You adjust tremendously well. He can already feel your wet cavern clenching tightly around his fingers as he curls his digits upwards. To this you give him a sweet little cry, which only results in Shouta setting a relentless pace. He pounds those fingers into you, hitting your sensitive spot with such precision that you can hardly focus on the cock in your mouth all while sucking and swirling his expert tongue over your swollen clit until you finally clench tightly around his fingers and cry out with your first orgasm of the evening.

Hizashi slows down the thrusts into your mouth as Shouta pulls away from between your legs, slowly pulling himself out as well. For a moment you’re confused, wondering why they could pull away when they haven’t found relief yet, only to be suddenly pulled forward so you’re hovering right over Shouta’s thick length. Hizashi comes up behind you, pressing soft kisses and nipples to the soft spot on your neck - he’s going to leave plenty of marks here later.

“Do you think you can take both of us?” Shouta asks, momentarily confused you until you realize what he means.

“I’ve never done it, um, there before.”

“We can make it easy, if you let us. It’ll only feel good.” Hizashi assures you, rubbing comforting circles into your thighs.

“We want to make you feel good.” Shouta adds, both hesitating until they see you nod your head once again.

“Okay.” You still feel nervous, but you want to feel good, and so far it feels really good.

Shouta helps your ease yourself onto his dick, pressing gently into your waiting pussy while giving your already oversensitive clit little flicks from his thumb. Once he has settled deep within you, you feel Hizashi spread your ass cheeks and press a finger into you. Your face burns from slight embarrassment, but admittedly as he begins to move the saliva covered digit in and out of you, you find yourself enjoying it. You try to move whilst on top of Shouta, but he grabs your hips to keep you still.

“Wait.” He commands, smirking at your impatient whine. That whine then turns into a gasp as you feel a second finger being pressed into your rear hole, nibbling on your bottom lip as an uncomfortable burning sensation takes place of the previous pleasure.

“Relax for me, little bird.” Hizashi whispers, and like his words work magic you instantly relax and that burning sensation goes away. He pumps those a few times while your juices continue to drench Shouta’s cock, then they’re gone, replaced instead by Hizashi’s pulsating member. “Stay relaxed, and take a few breaths.” Hizashi murmurs, placing a few soft kisses to your neck as he pushes himself into you.

At first you feel that uncomfortable burning sensation once again, but then that changes to a fullness that gives you pleasure. You huff in lust as Hizashi pushes the full of his length into you, both men temporarily remaining still while you adjust. Your back is pressed flush against Hizashi’s chest, so you can feel his heartbeat rhythmically hammering against you while they both wait.

“Please...”

“Please what?” Shouta once again brushes his thumb over your swollen clit, making you whimper.

“Please, make me yours.”

As if you said the magic words, both men suddenly begin to move within you. Shouta keeps your hips stilled while rolling his own to thrust up into you, meanwhile Hizashi wraps one arm around your waist to grope your breast. You feel his teeth graze against your shoulder with enough pressure to bruise, but you don’t care, you’re in a euphoric state right now.

Shouta keeps your clit busy with his thumb while the both of them pick up their paces, the sound of sweaty skin slapping together resonating throughout the dense forest. You can feel your next orgasm already building as the two of them continue at their brutal pace, the feeling of your holes clenching around them driving them absolutely wild with lust - they’re not going to last much longer, either.

“Fuck - we love you, kitten.”

“Yesss, we love you so much little bird.” Hizashi grunts into your ear, and while you can’t say it yet, you’re sure that it won’t take but a few months before you’re saying the same words back.

All it takes is one well timed thrust against your g-spot and another flick to your clit before you’re clamping down on both men and letting out a long, strangled moan with your second orgasm. Shouta follows quickly behind you along with Hizashi, both men pressing deep within you before they spill their seeds. They stay inside of you even afterwards, letting you back in your afterglow as they both praise you, pressing kisses over your skin and telling you how great you did for them.

It’s too late for you to turn back now. You’ve made the deal, and you sealed it the second that you said yes.

[jenohi]

stranger

PAIRING ▸ Watanabe Haruto x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ pining, high school au, lacrosse au, I’m not really sure what genre this is lol

WARNINGS ▸ traumatic events?

SUMMARY ▸ When Haruto moves halfway around the world the last person he expects to see is you. His former nemesis...or so he thinks.

PLAYLIST ▸ Still Don’t Know My Name by Labyrinth

WORD COUNT ▸ 9626

UNIVERSE ▸ YG High; Treasure Lacrosse Team

A/N ▸ I’ve decided from here on out all my stories will probably fall within the same universe. I only really have like 4 universes in mind so I’ll label them just so you know. Also, I’m looking to add some art to my stories to bring them more to life but I am useless at graphics/edits, so! If you’re really into making graphics/edits and you enjoy my work please please PLEASE reach out to me!!! I would love to work with an amazing artist! <3 <3 Plz enjoy.

A/N 2 ▸ This story is like a lot of crossover with Jeongwoo’s story but I hope I was able to bring justice to Haruto’s character and bring his story to life. :P ok now enjoy for real realz.

You were the prettiest girl Haruto had ever known in his life. But to him, you were also his rival. You always managed to score just a few points higher than him on each exam, each quiz, each assignment. To him it always felt like the teachers liked you more, so he made sure your classmates liked him more. The thing that made him really mad was that you were so unbothered. You were ambivalent to him and you didn’t even know his name. If you really were strangers and never sat in the same class he could understand. But you had been in the same classes for years. Each time you spoke to him, you politely asked for his name. As if you were strangers.

When his parents told him that his family was going to move to another city, far enough that he would have to transfer schools, he had mixed feelings. This was his last chance to confront you. To understand why you’d never bothered to remember his name, but each time he approached you he found you furiously scribbling in a notebook. Although he resented you for not knowing his name, he could never get himself to disturb you when you looked so stressed scribbling whatever it was in your notebook.

What Haruto didn’t know is that you did notice him. You noticed the handsome, tall, skinny boy that was always in the corner of your line of sight. But you had no idea what to say to him. So you never approached him. He was a stranger.

Haruto wished he could forget you. He was a bit uncomfortable transferring to a new school at first but thankfully, three other boys had transferred with him. Asahi, Mashiho, and Yoshi had become literal brothers to him. The school also had a transfer students program and he made a new friend, Hanbyul. She was a chatterbox and sometimes she could literally chat his ear off, but she was also sweet and helpful. But she wasn’t you.

But that didn’t matter because Hanbyul had another guy on her mind all the time anyway. “You know we’ve just been friends for such a long time and lately, I’ve started to...I don’t know. I feel different. Nervous. Is it normal to feel nervous around your best friend?”

“I don’t know. Is it?” Haruto responded.

“No, I suppose it isn’t. But he probably doesn’t feel the same way. I doubt he’s ever even thought about me in that way.”

Haruto felt someone nudge him, he turned to see that it was Asahi. Haruto leaned over to hear what he was going to say. “Is she talking about Jaehyuk’s brother?”

Haruto nodded.

“Jaehyuk talks about his little brother and this chick all the time. She’s so off the mark. The little brother definitely has feelings for her if Jaehyuk is anywhere near the mark.” So both parties had feelings for one another but both parties were too chicken to say anything to each other. And for no good reason.

In a way that reminded Haruto of himself and it pissed him off. He knew that spending so much time with his new friend would raise suspicions but he didn’t care. He knew that spending so much time with her pissed Jeongwoo off. It didn’t take a genius to recognize it when they went to the Big Bang Concert together.

Haruto thought he was going crazy when he spotted you a few spaces over at the concert. He rubbed his eyes and blinked a few times to make sure it was really you. Haruto stormed over to you once he decided that it was in fact you. He had spent months thinking about what to say to you if he ever saw you again, he wasn’t going to miss this opportunity. Haruto didn’t even think to tell his new friends where he had gone.

You saw a tall, handsome figure approaching your direction. You took a second to check him out, but then turned back to the performers and continued to enjoy yourself. Your parents were reluctant to let you go out to this concert on your own but it was a once-in-a-lifetime experience that you wanted so badly. You smiled sadly at what might happen when you woke up tomorrow.

“I didn’t know you were a fan of Big Bang.” You heard a voice from behind speak into your ear. You jumped in surprise and turned around to see that it was the handsome stranger you saw sauntering your way earlier.

“Hi, what’s your name?” You asked with a polite smile on your face. This is probably exactly what your parents were worried about, creepy men that would try to approach you. You started to think about the best way to remove yourself from the situation safely. The now unamused expression on his face alarmed you.

“When are you gonna cut the shit. You know who I am.”

You looked at him puzzled. “I do? How? From where?”

Haruto felt something in his chest crack. “I used to go to school with you. You’re Y/N right?”

“Oh, yeah. That’s me.” You furiously racked your mind trying to remember what you had read but your memory came up blank. You couldn’t help but cringe and turn away. This is why you tried your best to keep to yourself and away from people. You looked up to see Haruto staring down at you with a curious expression. “I’m sorry I don’t remember you. You said you used to go to school with me? You don’t go to school with me anymore? Can I get your name again? I’m really sorry. I’ll try and remember.”

“My name is Haruto. I don’t go to school with you anymore. I transferred to a new school a few months ago.”

“Oh, I see.”

Haruto wasn’t sure how to feel when he realized you actually had zero recollection of him. For some reason seeing you up close and seeing you really trying to remember him made him feel a bit sympathetic. He couldn’t understand why. It still totally irked him that you didn’t know his name. But something told him to sit down with you and get to know you.

“Well, do you like your new school?” You asked, looking up at Haruto. Your heart was beating hard and fast. You prayed that your face wasn’t flushing.

“Why don’t we just enjoy the rest of the concert for now and we can grab a late night meal after the concert?” Haruto proposed. His own palms were sweaty and his heart was beating fast.

You thought about it for a second, then nodded and smiled. Haruto felt like the world had a glittery filter for a second. He’d always acknowledged that you were attractive, but up close smiling at him, you were drop dead gorgeous.

“Awesome.”

After the concert, the two of you walked side by side as you left the crowded venue. You noticed Haruto took a second to text someone on his phone. He caught you snooping and laughed as you turned away. “It’s fine. I was just letting the friends I came with know that I was gonna head out with you.”

“Oh, if you need to get back with them it’s fine.” You said, maybe hanging out with Haruto was a bad idea after all.

“Not a chance, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you. I’m honestly curious to know how you are and how things are back home.”

Your face flushed at his words. You couldn’t remember the last time you had spent time with a guy like this. Was this a date?

“Alright. Then what are you in the mood for?” You asked, pulling up a list of restaurants that were still open at this hour.

“What’s available now? What are you in the mood for right now?” Haruto looked over your shoulder at the menu as he asked.

“Um, what about McDonald’s? I’m not that picky and there’s not that much open right now.” you said.

Haruto stared at you with wide eyes, were you always this cool? So the two of you made your way to the closest McDonald’s and debated which was better, Coke or Sprite. To Haruto, Coca-Cola was non-negotiable.

“How is your new school?” You asked Haruto, munching on a few of your fries. “Do you like it?”

“What are you doing here?” Haruto interjected.

“What do you mean?”

“We’re not in Japan. This is far from home. Why are you in America?”

“Oh, I’m uh- I’m visiting family. I’ve actually transferred to a school around here for the time-being as well.” You jumped in surprise when Haruto shrieked.

“You’re here now? Like for good? Like you go to school here? Where?”

You giggled at the questions he rained down on you. The way he asked you with his cheeks full and eyes wide was rather endearing. “Yes I’m here now. I’m actually, uh, home schooled for the time being.”

“Oh, interesting. Why are you homeschooled? I remember you were always really good at school.” Haruto said before he shoved another chicken nugget into his mouth. The irritating thought that you were always better than him at school, just by a little popped up in his mind but he pushed it away. That didn’t matter anymore. He had your attention now.

You felt your face flush. Even with your condition it was true that you maintained your good grades. So Haruto must have actually known you back in Japan. You eyed him again, when he caught you staring at him you turned away. Haruto smirked.

“Enough about me. Tell me about your friends. You said you came with friends from your new school right?”

“Well I’d say one of them is actually who I’d consider a friend. The other one is a mutual friend. A childhood friend that has feelings for her.”

“Her?” it slipped out of your mouth. Haruto’s smirk reappeared and his eyebrow jumped up when he looked at you. You looked away, what was this funny feeling in your chest? It was weird.

“Our school had this transfer student program and she just happened to be assigned to me. She’s really cool, I’m not into her like that and she’s not really into me like that. She likes her friend.”

“How do you know?”

“She told me.”

“Oh. That feels like something important. Like a secret.”

“Well, I told her a secret as well.”

You stared at him. He didn’t indulge in the secret. Haruto was wholly focused on sipping the last of his Coca-Cola before putting it down on the table and letting out a sigh.

“Well so what’s going on with them now?” You asked.

“Hopefully, they both pull their heads out of their asses tonight. I gave them time alone so the best case scenario is that they just talk it out. The dude, Jeongwoo, I actually met him for the first time tonight and he’s a cool dude. It would be nice to have more dude friends around here.”

“You don’t have any guy friends?”

“I do. There are 3 other transfer students from Japan and they’re all dudes and I’m friends with them. Actually, Americans like to play this sport. Lacrosse? My friend told me to try out for the team and I think I might. Mashi, Asahi, and Yoshi agreed to try-out as well so it’ll be fun.”

You nodded, you had no idea what lacrosse was and you didn’t think you would be that interested to learn either. “I should get home.”

“Right of course.” Haruto said, getting up. “Where are you headed? Let me call you an Uber.”

“No, it’s okay. I can actually walk back home from here.”

“Oh really? Well, at least let me walk you back.”

You hesitated for a second. Would it be smart to show this guy where you lived? But then you shook it off, he seemed pretty harmless throughout the night and you trusted that he knew you from school in Japan. So you agreed.

“Do you have to be home-schooled?” Haruto asked.

“No, I don’t think so.” you answered.

“Would you be interested in attending school in person again?” Haruto could feel the devil on his shoulder kicking him. What was he doing? He had already gone to school with you before and the fact that you always did just a smidge better than him drove him nuts.

“Um, I haven’t really thought about it. Why?”

“You should consider transferring to my school?”

Your eyebrows shot up. “What?”

Haruto stepped back a bit and raised his hands. “It was just a suggestion. Honestly, I struggled a bit when I first came here. I can’t imagine how lonely it must be to be here and just be home-schooled so I figured it might be nice to have some sense of community.”

“Um, I’ll think about it.” You weren’t going to think about it. You looked up and breathed a sigh of relief when you saw the familiar apartment complex. “This is me. You don’t have to walk in with me. I’m gonna go now.”

“Wait.” Haruto said. You turned around to look at him, a thin smile on your face. “I, uh, I had fun.”

“Yeah, this was nice.” You said truthfully.

“We should do it again sometime.” Haruto said. You stared at him, he looked perfectly composed to you. But his heart was practically beating so hard he thought it might fall out of his chest.

“Honestly, I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.”

Haruto felt a heat and anger flare up in his chest. But he did his best to tamp it down and get it under control. This was literally the first time you had acknowledged his presence. He put a smile on his face. “Well, then maybe we’ll just run into each other again sometime.”

“Maybe, it’s all up to fate now. Good night Haruto.”

“Good night Y/N.”

The second you made it back into your room you pulled out your diary. You scribbled the notes you had logged into your phone throughout the day as quickly as possible. Briefly reliving each moment as you wrote them down. By the time you had gotten to the end of the list and began to recount the concert you could feel your eyelids getting heavier and heavier and your hands writing more and more frantically until suddenly, you crashed.

The next morning you woke up and read your notes. You squinted at the last thing you had written. Your handwriting became illegible near the end. ‘Haruto?’

The next morning Haruto woke up and smiled at the memory of you. Asahi and Mashiho eyed their roommate as he pranced around the living room and kitchen smiling and singing. But nothing could bring Haruto down. Well until he saw his friend looking depressed as hell.

“Dude what’s up?” Haruto asked. “Did you and Jeongwoo figure your shit out?”

“Uh, about that. Well, no.”

“No? What do you mean no?”

“Well what about you? Did you run into her?”

“Nuh uh, this isn’t about me. You literally had the perfect opportunity to make something of it. To make a moment! Did you guys have a moment?”

“Yes, I think we did. But I got scared. I don’t want to lose Jeongwoo as a friend, but at the same time I don’t think he has any feelings for me like that. I just, I think I need space. Maybe if I just distance myself from him a bit then I can get over my feelings and…”

“No offense, but that’s the stupidest thing I think I’ve ever heard in my life.”

“Well I don’t care if you think it’s stupid. This is my decision and my decision is that I don’t want to see Jeongwoo for awhile. Ok? I’m not ready for the conversation. So you better get used to seeing me more often!”

Haruto sighed as he watched his friend storm out of the room. He turned around and exchanged looks with Asahi. “Did I say something wrong?”

Asahi shrugged. “Honestly, I think you’re valid. I think her logic in avoiding Jeongwoo is pretty dumb. The dude’s in my gym class. Honestly, he’s chill. I don’t think he’d react badly to her if she confesses regardless of how he feels.”

“I should probably find her and apologize anyway.” Haruto said, exiting the room. Eventually he found his friend and they sat together in the cafeteria.

“Sorry about what I said earlier. I’ll admit it was kind of harsh. But honestly I can’t say I understand your logic at all.”

“It’s fine Haruto. You seemed extra happy when you walked in this morning. Who was the friend that you saw at the concert?”

“It was her. Y/N.”

“No way! Isn’t she in Japan?”

“That’s what I thought too. I was so shocked to see her.”

“What did you say to her? What did you guys talk about? Did she recognize you?”

“That’s the thing. The best part of it all was that I actually had her attention. You remember I told you about how she never acknowledged anybody right? She was always reading her notebook in the hallway. In the past when I spoke to her she never even knew my name! She had to ask me every single time. But this time, there’s no way she wouldn’t remember me!”

“Your relationship is weird. But I guess that’s sweet. What does she write about in her notebook?”

“I don’t know. Why does it matter? She knows my name now!”

“That’s another thing. You went to school together for years and she never remembered your name? Why?”

“I don’t know.” Haruto said. Now he was grouchy. All the questions that had been brought up to him were valid, but these weren’t things he wanted to think about.

A few weeks before the lacrosse tryouts in the spring Haruto went to the hospital to get a physical done.

Once he was done he stumbled into a small cafe right next to the hospital. When he saw who was manning the cash register he rubbed his eyes and looked away and looked back a few times to make sure he wasn’t being deluded. When he was confident that he wasn’t going crazy he stood up and walked over to the register.

You saw a tall, handsome, and skinny guy walk up to the cash register. You cleared your throat and stood up straight. “Hello, what can I get you?”

“Y/N! It’s fate. We ran into each other again!”

“Again?” You put a smile on your face and thought of a response. “Hey, it’s so good to see you! How have you been? What’ll you have?”

“Do you...remember my name?”

You felt your heart picking up speed and your palms beginning to sweat. But you kept your composure. “Of course, let me take your order and we can chat for a second.”

Haruto beamed. “Okay, then I’ll just have an Iced Americano.”

“Okay, that’ll be $3.30. The ice machine is in the back so I’ll be right out in a second. You rushed to the back of the cafe and pulled out your diary and flipped through the pages, reading the entries as quickly as possible. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed a torn piece of paper that had slipped out of your bag. You picked it up, it matched the paper in your diary. You flipped it over to see that it had a name written on it. Haruto.

Was that this guy’s name? Who was he to you? Darn it, why hadn’t you written more?

You quickly filled the cup with ice and walked out filling the cup with cold brew. You grabbed the marker and scribbled Haruto on it. You walked back over to the cash register. This guy’s eyes were practically glittering in anticipation. Was it normal for someone to get this excited over a coffee?

“I’ve got one iced americano for Haruto?” you said.

If his eyes were glittering before, they were practically flashing light strobe lights at a nightclub now. A matching beaming grin on his face. “Yes! Y/N it’s fate. We ran into each other again!”

“Right. Yeah, of course. What are the odds.”

“Do you have a minute?”

“Um, I’m working right now. I’d rather not get in trouble. Maybe another time?”

Haruto swiveled around, eying the cafe. “It looks pretty empty to me. I don’t think you’d get in trouble if you came out for a second just to keep me company.”

“Still…”

“Is your manager even here right now?”

“No.”

“Then come on. Just come out for a second.”

You looked around the cafe, cursing at how vacant it was. You tugged at your sleeves for a second before answering. “Fine.”

You followed Haruto out from behind the counter. He walked over to a table and pulled a seat out from underneath the table. He smiled as he waited for you to sit down. You walked over to the table and turned around. Haruto slid the chair underneath you as you moved to sit down. Once you were seated Haruto ran around to the other side of the table and sat down.

“How are you? How have you been?” Haruto asked.

You stared at the boy sitting in front of you. He was so handsome. “I’m doing well. How about you?”

“I’m good. I was in the area because I needed to go to the hospital.”

Your ears perked up. “Why were you at the hospital?”

“Why do you wanna know? Are you worried about me?”

You didn’t say anything. You just stared at Haruto. Haruto cleared his throat and looked away for a second. “I’m just playing with you. I went to get a physical.”

You nodded, tracing the patterns on the tablecloth.

“I needed one for lacrosse tryouts.”

“Lacrosse? What is that?” you asked. Haruto thought the way your nose scrunched in confusion was adorable.

“I told you about it last time! Remember? It’s this sport that Americans like to play. I had never heard of it in Japan either.”

You didn’t remember. “Right.”

Haruto couldn’t understand the dynamics of the conversation. He watched as you avoided eye contact with him and intensely focused on tracing the pattern of the table cloth. Then you would stare out the window of the cafe, it almost appeared as if your eyes were glazed over. “What are you always writing about in your notebook?”

Your head spun over to look at him so fast, you thought you might have gotten whiplash. “What?”

“Your notebook. I remember in school back in Japan I always saw you either writing things down in a notebook or reading the same notebook. What’s in it?”

“Um, nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“Why? It can’t be that bad. I promise I won’t laugh no matter how embarrassing it might be.” Haruto said. Leaning forward over the table so that he was in your face.

“Forget it.” You said, leaning back and looking away. You glanced over at your bag that was perched far back behind the counter and breathed a sigh of relief. “Look. I gotta go. I’m supposed to be working right now. I think you should go now as well.”

You stood up from the table so quickly that the chair you were sitting on toppled over. You didn’t bother to turn around and pick it up. You walked back towards the counter without looking back.

Haruto watched you as you walked away. He narrowed his eyes when he saw you grab your bag and walk to the back of the cafe. There was only one thing on his mind as he walked out of the cafe. Your notebook. What was in the notebook?

You frantically flipped to today’s page in your notebook. In all caps with your boldest, darkest black marker you wrote at the top of your notebook. ‘Beware of Haruto. Tall, Handsome. Asked about notebook.’

Then you shut the notebook and exited the back room, breathing a sigh of relief when you noticed that the cafe was vacant once again. You walked over to the cafe table where you had previously sat and picked up the chair that had fallen over when you had left the conversation.

The next day at school Haruto was deep in thought. What could possibly be so important about a notebook? When Hanbyul shoved him, Haruto shrieked as he fell out of his chair. “Dude, what the hell is your problem?”

“What are you thinking about? You look like you’re thinking so hard that your brain might break.”

“Do you have an important notebook? Is that like something girls do?”

“You mean like a diary?”

Haruto snapped his fingers and looked up. “Yes! Exactly like one of those. Do you have one of those?”

“I did when I was younger. I don’t keep one anymore though. Why do you ask?”

“My friend. The one from home, Y/N? I think she has one. I asked her about it yesterday and she got all dodgy and weird.”

“Ah, well. Back when I did keep a diary it held all my dirtiest secrets. I don’t think I would want to share it with anybody or for anybody to know about it. Not even now, and as an elementary schooler I really don’t think I had any secrets worth keeping.”

“It was so weird. She got so defensive over it. I didn’t realize bringing it up would be such a touchy subject.”

Hanbyul shrugged. “Different things matter to different people. Are you ready for tryouts? They’re coming up soon aren’t they?”

Haruto nodded. “Asahi, Mashiho, Yoshi, and I have started going to that gym that you recommended. Lacrosse is actually pretty fun. Mashiho is the best though. Are you coming to tryouts?”

“Of course I am. I’m practically making you go so it’s only fair that I be there to see how you do. I reserve the right to totally make fun of you if you embarrass yourself though.”

Haruto rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever.”

Soon enough it was the first day of lacrosse tryouts. Haruto had frequented the cafe that you worked at in hopes of getting the chance to speak to you again. Unfortunately, what he didn’t know was that you had quit the job and diligently stayed home and studied.

Haruto was agitated at the thought of not being able to speak to you again. When he tried to sit down and rationalize it himself he couldn’t make sense of it. A year ago he despised you for not knowing his name. You know his name now, right? What more did he want from you?

“Haruto? Haruto! Hello? Are you even listening to me?”

Haruto turned to look at Hanbyul. “Honestly no, sorry. What’s up?”

“I feel bad for how I treated Jeongwoo. You were right, avoiding him was not the right thing to do. But why hasn’t he said anything to me?”

“Look I can’t tell you what’s going on between the two of you any better than you can. My assumption is that he’s a bit hurt and confused at the moment by how you’re acting and he doesn’t want to make things any worse than they are.”

“Can’t you say something to him?”

“Me?” Haruto looked up from his stick that he was re-taping. “What do you want me to say to him?”

“I don’t know. Just...just get him to react.”

Haruto scoffed. “If you want me to do that I can but again I feel like it’s not going to produce the results that you want. Like I think if I say anything things are gonna go really sour so I think you should think long and hard about this.”

“Haruto!”

“Look, I gotta go. Tryouts are starting.” Haruto said, turning away and walking onto the field. He didn’t miss the hard stare coming his way from Jeongwoo. Haruto ignored them and focused on his gameplay. Lacrosse had actually become really cathartic for him and he found that he really wanted to make the team.

Haruto noticed that the coaches seemed to be reacting favorably to how he was playing. He also realized that Jeongwoo was also really good but he played really aggressively, like he had something to lose. At the end of practice Haruto figured his hunches must have been correct because the coaches called him over to speak with him.

“I’m sure you know Varsity tryouts were this morning, all of your friends from Japan did great as did you and so we’re thinking about pulling you up to varsity. So tomorrow I want you to come early and try out with the varsity team, alright?”

Haruto beamed and nodded.

“Good work son.” The coach slapped Haruto on the shoulder. He did his best not to fall over. Thankfully the coach didn’t notice.

Haruto walked off the field and headed towards the school parking lot. Just as he pulled his phone out to call someone for a ride home his phone pinged, he tapped on the notification to see that it was a message from Mashiho.

Mashiho: Haruto have JV tryouts ended?

Haruto: Yes, I just finished

Mashiho: Cool. Have you found a ride home yet?

Haruto: No, do you know anyone who can come get me?

Mashiho: Ya, a lot of the guys on varsity can drive. Junkyu is over now but he offered to come pick you up.

Haruto: Junkyu?

Mashiho: He’s trying out for the varsity team. He’s cool. Kinda goofy but cool. I’ll come by with him.

Haruto: Alright, thanks dude.

Mashiho: Np.

Haruto checked the time on his phone before putting it back into his pocket. 6 P.M. Would you be at the cafe? The last few times he had gone by he hadn’t seen you. He put the thought away when a car appeared in front of him. The window rolled down and Mashiho cheered when he saw Haruto. “Get in the car! You smell!”

“Shut up and unlock the door Mashi.” The car door clicked open and Haruto hopped into the backseat. There was a large dude sitting in the driver’s seat who kept fidgeting with a bunch of random controls.

The guy turned around with a giant grin on his face. “Hello! I’m Junkyu. You must be Haruto! Nice to meet you!”

Haruto bowed. “Hello. Yes, I am Haruto. Nice to meet you as well.”

“Ruto! How were tryouts?”

“They were really good. Coach pulled me over at the end of tryouts and told me to come early tomorrow morning and try out with the varsity team.”

“Damn! You must be so good!” Junkyu said from the driver’s seat. Haruto tried not to be concerned by the way Junkyu was driving. His head kept swiveling from left to right. “Did you guys play sports back in Japan? All of you were insane at tryouts today!”

“We all played football. I think Mashi and Yoshi played basketball as well.”

“Football? Do you mean football football or soccer football?”

“Eh?”

“Do you kick a ball or do you carry a ball?”

“You kick it. Duh. Why would you carry a ball? That’s just dumb.”

“Americans call a totally different sport football. Don’t worry about it too much. But it’s awesome that you guys are so good.”

“Well to be fair, we were told about that Lacrosse Club and we had a few training sessions every week leading up to try outs.” Mashiho said.

“Ahh! How’d you hear about that? A few of us have been playing on their club teams for a while.”

“My friend told me about it. She’s the person responsible for me in the foreign exchange students program. Hanbyul?”

“Oh! I know who you’re talking about. Her brother was a legend at this school. He was a top recruit since his sophomore year here. But right before the most important game of his senior year he tested positive on a drug test and he couldn’t play. It totally turned him, his team, and the school around. He got dropped by the college that was recruiting him. But I heard he struck a deal with a pro-team and I guess he’s been training with them. The dude was in a league of his own.”

“Damn. That’s insane.”

“Yeah, our school takes lacrosse pretty seriously. The best players at our school get recruited to some of the best schools so it’s a great opportunity.”

Haruto knew there were probably more important things to be thinking about in this conversation but he couldn’t help but wonder if he could get you to come to one of his games.

The second day of tryouts Haruto was absolutely on fire. His shorts were shart, his passes were quick, and his steps were light. The varsity team was definitely of a different caliber but Haruto found the challenge fun. It was nice to be able to play with the rest of the Japanese boys as well.

At the end of varsity tryouts the coach pulled him over, “you were great out there today. How are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling alright coach.”

“Up for a few more hours?”

Haruto paused, but then nodded. He wasn’t in a place to argue with his coaches. “Sure.”

“Great. Then I want you to continue through JV tryouts. Grab some water and then head back out onto the field.”

“Alright coach.”

Haruto jogged out to the edge of the field. He was surprised to see Hanbyul sitting at the edge of the bleachers. “What’s up?”

“Hey, what are you doing here?”

“What do you mean what am I doing here? I came to watch your second day of tryouts.”

“Are you sure you’re here to watch me?”

“Shut up. Why are you all sweaty already?”

“Coach had me try out with the varsity team today.”

Hanbyul’s eyes widened. “Dang, you must be awesome. The last two boys that made it onto the varsity team as sophomores were my brother and his best friend Bobby.”

Haruto shrugged. “The game is fun. It would be awesome to play on varsity.”

The coach blew his whistle, signalling all the players to come back out onto the field. Haruto turned around and gathered around. Every so often throughout the day Haruto ran back to the bleachers where Hanbyul sat. His bag was stowed away there as was his secret stash of Coca-Cola. It probably wasn’t smart to be drinking Coke in the middle of tryouts but every so often he needed a pick-me-up.

“You need to quash that habit.”

“Yeah yeah.”

At the end of the day the coach told Haruto to wait for him inside his office. So Haruto did just that.

“So what’d you think about tryouts today?” Coach asked.

“It was intense.”

“Yeah, what did you think of the way the varsity team played?”

“They were quicker, sharper, and more nimble.”

“Good observation. Do you think you were good enough to play on their level?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, then answer me another question. If you had to pick another player from the JV tryouts today to pull up to Varsity who would you pick?”

Haruto thought about it for a second. The answer was obvious. The only other person who seemed to put up a fight with him was “Jeongwoo.”

“Good guess.” The coach laughed. “I don’t know what they feed you kids in Japan. But all four of you are good.”

There was a knock on the door. Haruto turned around to see Jeongwoo. He smirked when he saw the sour expression on Jeongwoo’s face. But it was gone once he had walked into the room and stood adjacent to Haruto.

“The two of you have demonstrated amazing capabilities and I am considering pulling one of you up to the varsity team. Take this opportunity seriously. Tomorrow is the last day of tryouts.”

The last place Haruto expected to run into you was at the hospital. The last thing you were expecting at the hospital was for a dude to come up behind you and scare you. It was horrible, you can’t remember the last time you screamed so loudly, let alone at a public place.

“What are you doing here Y/N?”

“Uh, I’m-” you hesitated, trying to craft an answer that was vague enough that you wouldn’t have to tell the whole truth but not vague enough that he wouldn’t continue to ask questions. But thankfully Haruto seemed to take it upon himself to fill the silence.

“Look, I just wanted to say I’m sorry that I totally misjudged you when I first met you? In fact, I thought I hated you.”

Alarm bells went off in your head. Was it normal for a person to come to you and tell you they hated you? “Uh, thanks?”

But Haruto continued. “But I wanted to say I totally read you wrong. You’re actually really cool. And I wanted to say thank you. For remembering my name.”

That was the first time someone had ever said that to you. You stared at him blankly unsure of how to respond.

“Haruto! Haruto! Haruto! Please report to waiting room 105, the doctor is ready for you now.” The voice over the loudspeaker belted.

“Well, that’s me.” Haruto said with a soft smile on his face. He got up and waved goodbye to you before heading to the back of the office.

Once he was safely out of sight you pulled out your notebook. Your face paled once you flipped through it a few times. You thought about what to do. What did this guy want? You wrote out all these questions in your notebook. Then you came to a conclusion of what to do and wrote that down in your notebook as well.

You ripped out a piece of paper from your notebook and scribbled your number on it. Then got up to the receptionist desk. “Hi, I don’t know if you’re allowed to do this. But when that guy Haruto comes out. Would you mind giving him this?”

You handed the sheet of paper over to her, the receptionist gave you a look and then a wink before accepting the sheet of paper. You figured that meant she accepted, so you waved goodbye and left the hospital.

“Excuse me sir!” The receptionist lady called out to Haruto as he was about to head out of the doctor’s office. What felt and looked like a nasty possible sprain on the lacrosse field just turned out to be a measly bruise.

Haruto approached the reception desk. “There was a young lady earlier. She asked me to give this to you before you leave.”

Haruto looked at the slip of paper. His eyes widened into the size of large gumballs when he realized what was on it. He felt like his heart would explode. But then his mind pumped the brakes, he wasn’t ungrateful, but why did you give him your number?

On the way back home you second guessed your decision at least 30 times. Why did you give him your number? The only reason you could think of was that you didn’t want to not know the guy. Contrary to what your mind and your diary told you. Your heart didn’t want to give him up. Maybe it was selfish and confusing, who knew? But who cared?

Haruto’s excitement was cut short when he finished punching your number into his contacts. Before he could even send a message to you, his phone rang. Hanbyul.

“Hey Hanbyul, what’s up?”

Haruto became alarmed when he heard a sniff and a muffled sob. “Haruto, I miss him.”

Haruto sighed. “He’ll come around soon.”

“Is there nothing you can do to make him come around sooner?”

“Hanbyul. If all goes well he’s going to be my teammate. Plus, what could I possibly say to change things?”

“I don’t know. He probably thinks there’s something going on between us.”

Haruto paused. “Is that why you’re friends with me?”

“No, no I swear it’s not. You’re an amazing person and you’ve been an amazing friend.”

“Hanbyul.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t like what you’re asking me to do. But you are my friend. If you’re really sure this is the way you want to go about it.”

“I’m- I’m not sure. I just need things to change.”

On the third day of tryouts Haruto was in a funk. And it showed. The events of yesterday night haunted him, he was happy to see you but he was sorry for Hanbyul. Haruto didn’t really like to fight with anybody, but he found her requests unreasonable and the questions she asked about you probing and uncomfortable.

It seemed as if Jeongwoo was the same way. Haruto gave into the niggling voice inside his head and said probably he shouldn’t have said. “You’re gonna lose your girl to me and now you’re gonna lose your spot on the team to me?”

It pushed Jeongwoo off the edge and the two of them went at it. Haruto played ferociously and aggressively. As did Jeongwoo. The game ended when Jeongwoo illegally body checked Haruto.

“Dude what the hell is your problem?”

“No, what’s your problem? Your comment back there? Absolutely uncalled for.”

Valid. But Haruto wasn’t going to admit that. “Please. Pull your head out of your ass. You’re hurting your friend. Talk to her.”

Haruto stood by as he and Jeongwoo got scolded for their behavior. Eventually, tryouts ended with neither one ending up on the varsity team. Haruto knew he probably should have been more bothered but he wasn’t. He had other things on his mind.

When Haruto exited the office he saw Hanbyul waiting outside. She turned to look away from Jeongwoo back to Haruto. Tired and hopeful that their saga would end, Haruto smiled and jutted his chin out towards Jeongwoo. Hanbyul smiled and ran after Jeongwoo.

Since the fateful day you have Haruto your number. Whenever he had a free moment he would ask to see you. After each time you saw him, you thoroughly wrote down everything that had happened in the day. You didn’t want to forget.

A few Mondays ago, you went to get ice cream together. “What’s your favorite food, Haruto?”

“Me? Anything unhealthy.”

You whacked him on the arm for that.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“For being a stupid teenage boy. And because I’m jealous of your metabolism.”

A couple Thursdays ago, Haruto asked you if you wanted to go watch a movie with him. The Uber and the weather didn’t quite work out. “Sorry we missed the movie by 45 minutes. But on the bright side, it’s not raining anymore!”

You laughed. “I guess you’re right. What should we do instead now that we’re here?”

Haruto looked around. He pointed at the grassy meadow. “We should just lay down on the grass and look at the stars.”

“The grass is wet.”

“Look, they're selling plastic tarps over at that convenience store. Let’s just buy one.”

“Okay.”

Haruto paid for a plastic tarp and spread it down out on the grassy meadow. The two of you laid on the ground parallel to one another. Until Haruto turned to you “can I hold you?”

You felt your face flush and you looked away. You hesitated for a few moments but eventually Haruto smiled when he heard a soft “yeah.”

So he moved his arm as you lifted your head to rest on top of it. You curled into him as his arm wrapped around your upper body. Haruto’s stomach exploded in butterflies. Your face was on fire. But the two of you were happy, blissful.

Last Friday night Haruto asked you to come to one of his lacrosse games. “Y/N, this is my friend Hanbyul. Hanbyul, this is Y/N.”

“Y/N?” Hanbyul stared at you eyes wide. Like she knew something. She looked like she wanted to say something but she held it in. You wondered what it was, but decided not to think too much about it.

Hanbyul was sweet. She kept you company throughout the game. But she was an aggressive cheer-er. Most of her attention was spent yelling at the field. Her energy was contagious and by the end of the game you were standing on the bleachers cheering “Go Haruto!”

Now it was Saturday and the two of you had finally gone to see the movie that you had meant to see a couple Thursdays ago. You clasped onto the arm that Haruto had held out for you as you exited the movie theater. “That movie was so good! It was so crazy!”

Haruto laughed. “Yeah it was okay.”

“Just okay? You didn’t like it?”

“No, I liked it. It wasn’t bad. But I feel like there were better movies from this cinematic universe you know?”

“Yeah I guess.”

“Which one was your favorite?” Haruto asked.

“Huh?” You looked up at Haruto to see him looking down at you. You turned away. “Um. Would you wanna come back to my place?”

“Huh?” Haruto wasn’t normally caught off guard but this time he was.

“I mean. Not like that. I just, I don’t know I’m not ready for the night to end and I figured since my place is close by we could just go back and chat.”

Haruto smiled. “Yeah, that sounds nice. Let’s go.”

Soon after the two of you arrived at your place, Haruto got situated on the couch and after making sure he was properly settled in. You had gotten up to go fetch your drinks. Haruto spotted your notebook sitting on the edge of the coffee table. He glanced over to see that your attention was fully occupied on making your drinks. Haruto turned back to stare at the notebook. No. The notebook was staring at him. Haruto knew it was wrong. He knew he shouldn’t peek.

But he couldn’t help it. Every time he saw you he either saw the notebook with you or he saw you writing the notebook and every time he even remotely looked in its direction you guarded it with your life. This could be his only chance.

And so, Haruto grabbed the notebook. He flipped through it and saw that it was very meticulously dated. Upon closer inspection he noticed that each entry was timed as well and every timed entry had extensive details about what you saw, what you talked about. Then he flipped backwards and found one page not like the others.

This page wasn’t dated. Instead, it was titled. Haruto. Haruto’s eyes widened. Every line of his designated page was filled. There were things about him on there that even he hadn’t realized he had said. Why had you written all these things down? All these details didn’t seem that important to him. They were like things that were probably easily remembered. Or things you could ask him about, he’d answer if you ever asked him about.

Just as he was about to continue flipping through the pages of the notebook. “What do you think you’re doing?”

An index card fluttered out of the notebook right at Haruto’s feet. Haruto bent down to pick it up. But in a panic you kicked his shin and as he howled and grabbed onto his leg you snatched the card. “What the hell Y/N?”

“No. I should be asking you that. I’ve made it abundantly clear that this notebook is not to be touched. It’s incredibly private to me.”

“What is it? Why is it so important? I asked Hanbyul what it might be and she just said it was probably a diary. What is so special about yours?”

“What is so special about mine?” you were so angry you felt like your head was about to pop. While your head didn’t pop. Your mouth certainly did. “What is so special about mine? This notebook? This notebook. Is my memory. I don’t have a memory.”

You tossed the card at Haruto. He picked it up and read the words on the card as you spoke.

“At age 13 you were involved in a very traumatic car accident. The accident left you in a coma for two weeks. After you recovered from your coma you were diagnosed with anterograde amnesia. From that day on, you no longer have the ability to make memories. The memories you make within a day will only last until you fall asleep wherein your memories of the previous day will be wiped. Use your notebooks to keep track of your days. Use these notebooks to help you remember.”

You could hear your voice waver as you finished reciting the contents on the index card.

“Y/N, I-” Haruto said. The world seemed grayer and grimmer. Everything made so much sense now. Why every time he spoke to you in school you had to ask for his name. Why sometimes you looked confused or blank when he mentioned something or attempted to crack a joke.

“So now you know.” You whispered. You could feel your body start to heave, your breathing became heavy. The gravity of what you had just exposed started to weigh down on you. “You need to leave. You need to leave and never come back.”

“Y/N. I wish you would have told me.”

“Why?” You snarled. “Why would I tell you that? Each day I wake up I can’t even remember who you are. Why would I have told you anything? Just so you could go around pitying me? Telling everyone else about me? Absolutely not.”

Haruto started to feel tears well up in his own eyes. He felt trapped in his own body as he watched your body fail yours. When he saw you collapse something snapped in his head and he got up and picked you up. One arm held you under your shoulder blades and the other below your knees.

“Get. Out.” you said in between wheezes.

“No. Y/N. I’m sorry. I don’t want to. Let me help you.”

“Get. Out.” you said, barely conscious.

“Y/N. You’re scaring me. What do I do? How do I help you? Let me help you and I’ll leave you alone.”

Your eyelids were getting heavier and heavier. Honestly, you weren’t even sure what exactly was going on. Maybe it would be smart to have Haruto call your doctor before he left. “Emergency Numbers. Notebook.”

Haruto placed you down on your bed just as you had passed out. Haruto immediately ran back to the living room and grabbed your notebook that had fallen onto the ground. He flipped through it frantically. What page were the emergency numbers on? He saw them scribbled on the inside of the back cover. He grabbed his phone and dialed the first number listed at the top.

“Hello? Is this Y/N’s doctor? She’s just passed out and I don’t know what to do. I’m in her apartment right now. Someone please come help me.” Haruto hadn’t even realized that tears had been streaming down his face until he saw wet splotches appear on the notebook. He wiped them quickly and sniffed. “This is scaring me.”

“Yes, this is Y/N’s doctor. I’m on my way over. Who is this?”

“Haruto. I’m a friend of hers.”

“Haruto. You did good, son. Just wait. I’ll be there in a second.”

“Doctor. Is she gonna be okay?”

“Honestly I can’t tell you right now. I have to check up on her. Right now I’m in front of her door so you can let me in.” The call ended and Haruto opened the door.

“Is she in her room?” The stout man asked.

Haruto nodded and followed him back into your room. He tried to help the doctor but eventually the doctor turned to him and said “son, just relax. Give me some space. She should be fine. She had a panic attack, something must have worked her up. But she’ll wake up. But, it might be better if you aren’t here by the time she wakes up.

“I understand, doctor.”

The doctor took a good look at him. Then nodded grimly before turning his attention back to you. Before Haruto could leave though he saw a stack of index cards, a roll of washi tape, and a pen sitting on your desk. He was still holding your notebook from earlier. He grabbed the materials and headed back out to the living room.

Before he left he scribbled out a note. Then pulled something out of his wallet and taped it to the back of the index card. He then taped the index card to the inside of the front cover before shutting the notebook and leaving it in the middle of your coffee table. He held in a sob as he got up. How had things gone so sour so quickly?

Haruto walked back over to your room and peeked in. Your doctor was still busy doting on you. So he turned around and exited your apartment. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and called Junkyu. “Hey, can you pick me up?”

“Yeah of course. Send me the address.” Junkyu said, trying not to be too alarmed by the tone of Haruto’s voice.

Eventually, you woke up. After reading the note that your doctor had taped to your hand explaining the situation you took a deep sigh. What a shit show. You needed to find the notebook your doctor had mentioned in his note.

It was sitting in the very middle of your coffee table. You flipped through the last few pages to read your entries. Your eyes started to water and you felt yourself get emotional. You could sense that you had grown close to someone. You read about yourself and how you felt about Haruto, but who was Haruto? For the most part you had made peace with your situation but for the first time in a long time, you began to feel frustrated. Angry. Cheated of a normal life that other 16 year old girls got to live.

Just as you were about to shut the notebook you noticed there were two index cards taped to the inside cover. The first one explained your situation. It was more or less what your doctor had just explained to you. But the second one was new. You lifted it up to your face and began to read it aloud.

Y/N,

If you’re reading this, I want you to know that you are the love of my life. My name is Haruto Watanabe and I am 16 years old. I met you for the first time in our freshman year of high school back then when we lived in Japan. We were only 14 years old. I used to be jealous of you, how you beat me in school every time even if just by a little bit. I also resented you because I thought you never bothered to remember my name.

By some stroke of fate, we both ended up in America. Whether by fate or not we saw each other a few more times and met up with each other and I really began to fall for you. You are the kindest, most beautiful, and genuine person I have ever met in my life.

I want you to know that even with your condition. My opinion and my feelings towards you have not changed. I want to be honest with you and tell you what I did and I hope in time you can read this and not feel angry.

Y/N, I did something bad. I invaded your privacy. You see, every time I saw you you fiercely guarded this notebook. Everytime I asked about it or possibly glimpsed at it you would react so strongly so eventually the curiosity of needing to know what was in the notebook killed me. And one day when your attention was occupied elsewhere, I read it.

It seemed like a regular diary to me but you caught me in the act and got upset with me. You explained to me your condition and I want you to know I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry I behaved so insensitively. If I were a more selfless man I would have left your life for good. But I am not. I’ve attached my school I.D. to the back of this card. On it has my name, my picture, and my phone number.

If you ever find it in yourself to forgive me. Please give me a call. I will always love you.

Love,

Haruto Watanabe

You flipped the back of the card over. Sure enough there was a school I.D. taped to the back. You pulled the card off and stared at it. The boy in the picture was handsome. He was tall. His height was 6’2”. You scoffed, at least you had good taste.

You saw his phone number at the bottom. You pondered over whether or not to call him, what would you even say to him? Where would he even fit in your life?

These were the questions that ran through your mind as you pulled your phone out and dialed his number. You stared at the numbers as you recited them aloud again. Your thumb hovering above the green button.

[girls4keigo]

A Bird Whisperer’s Guide to Fighting Villains and Falling in Love | Hawks x Hero!Reader

Summary: Hawks needs help to defeat an upcoming hero attack in Tokyo. What better hero to ask than the one he’s been crushing on for months

Warnings: F!Reader, Hero!Reader, Fluff, Cursing

Reader plays hard to get. Reader has a nature quirk and can control natural elements and talk to animals. Reader is a popular hero

a/n: hi! this is my first post i hope you all enjoy! :)

————

You sighed, trying to keep your composure while talking to a bunch of big name heroes. The fundraiser events that your agency made you go to were unbearable. Standing around for hours listening to the most mundane heroes try to impress you with their line of work. But hey, if it helps boost approval ratings I guess it’s not that bad.

For the past year you’ve slowly been climbing the ranks of the hero world. With a powerful quirk and unique fighting styles it was hard to go unnoticed. By now you were familiar with how the industry treated female heroes. It seemed as if the general public cared about anything but your hero duties.

It was all love, relationships, “Who are you dating?”, “What’s your skincare routine?”

You honestly didn’t expect any different but geez, it sure did piss you off. And now that you were in the top 3, you weren’t expecting any of it to die down. Might as well just get used to it.

You continued to chat when suddenly your ear twitched as you sensed a certain birdie approaching.

Oh God.

“Hey. Mind if I steal ya away for a little?” Hawks’ signature smirk appeared on his face as he approached you.

Hawks seemed to really be latching onto you for quite some time, well since the new hero rankings were announced. You were on your way to surpassing the number 2 hero and had gained a lot of notoriety in the past couple of months. 

He was clingy for sure, always play flirting, inviting you to lunch, showing up at your agency unannounced. It was obvious that he was just trying to get a reaction out of you. You’d be surprised if he admitted to actually having feelings for you. Well, not that you cared anyways. Your job was to save civilians, defeat villains, and do things that any other normal hero would. Love was simply not on your agenda.

Holding back a heavy sigh, you complied and stepped off to the side with Hawks.

He seemed delighted by your decision, using his feathers to fetch you a glass of champagne off of one of the caterer’s trays as you two walked over to the bar area.

“So your agency makes you come to these lame things too, huh?”

You didn’t answer, not very interested in the direction that the conversation was going in.

“You look nice.” He bit his lower lip, dragging his eyes vertically across your figure.

“Thank you.” You replied, taking a sip of your champagne.

After you both had made your way over to the bar he instructed his order to the bartender, asking you if you wanted anything and keeping the same dumb smirk on his face when you denied.

“Rarely ever see you in a color other than green. I mean, I guess it’s your entire thing but I really dig this red look you’ve got goin’ on” He mused, as he watched the bartender carefully make his drink.

He wasn’t lying. He’s been eyeing you since you walked in, you look good.

“What do you want, Hawks?” You asked, visibly annoyed.

“Damn.” He chuckled, “Small talk isn’t your thing, noted.”

You side-eyed him, getting impatient with his overly relaxed demeanor.

Catching the hint, he got straight to the point. “There’s some trouble going on in Tokyo.”

Now you were intrigued. You took another sip of your champagne, “Petty villain attacks like always, isn’t it?”

You turned towards him, he got a good look at your face before he answered.

Fucking pretty, he thought to himself.

“That’s what I thought at first but it’s getting harder to believe that as I do more digging.” He looks around before inching closer to you, trying to keep his volume to a minimum. “The League is planning something big next week. The ‘Rain of Terror’, they’re callin’ it. They’re trying to ease the amount of big attacks in the city to let our gaurds down. And frankly, I think it’s working.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “How do you know all of this?”

“I’ve got connections,” Was all he said, with a shrug.

Ok, whatever. You’ll confront him about that later. “And this ‘Rain of Terror…’ what does it entail?”

“Bombs.”

“Shit,” You muttered.

“Big ones. Huge ones, actually. I don’t know how the fuckers did it but they found a way to make these huge, bioengineered clouds that ‘rain’ bombs.”

You grew uneasy. Raining bombs? Over the entirety of Tokyo? The amount of destruction it would do to the earth, to civilians, made you panic. Hawks sensed your uneasiness but continued anyways, “I want us to team up. Your quirk would be useful with the entire controlling nature n’ weather thing.”

He loosened up from his serious expression, talking a bit louder and showing a teethy smile, “Plus I think we’d make a pretty good team. I’ve already got a plan so we’ll meet up at yours tomorrow.”

“As in my house? Why not anywhere else?” You questioned.

“Well,” He grabbed his drink and used his free hand to rub the back of his heck, “This isn’t really the typa thing we can talk about in public. Mass hysteria, panic, that type of thing. And my living situation is pretty…complicated right now.”

You felt a small tap on your shoulder, followed by the voice of your high school aged sidekick. You turned to the younger hero. “Uh..Y/N? It’s time to go. I gotta be back by 11.”

You sighed before turning back to Hawks.

“Kids and their curfews, right?” He commented.

“Fine. I’ll have my agency send you my address. Don’t come during the day.” That was the last thing you said before finishing your drink all in one quick sip and making your way to the exit. You could feel his eyes on your backside until you left the venue. And the singular scarlet feather rushing in front of you to open the car door for you was really the cherry on top.

You rolled your eyes.

“Woah.” Your sidekick mused, “He seems to really like you. You should give him a chance, he’s hot.”

You giggled at her comment, “He doesn’t really like me, y’know? He flirts with every female hero.”

—

You heard a slight tap on the window leading up to your balcony. You already sensed him flying towards you when he was about a mile away, but your bedroom? Reluctantly you walked over and opened the sliding door.

“Never heard of a front door?”

“Well that’s no fun, is it?” He said, displaying his signature smirk. You looked cute out of your hero clothes. Hair tied up and messy, and in big comfy clothes.

Adorable, he thought to himself. He walked in as if it was his own befroom, slipping off his shoes, gloves and jacket and placing them in the corner of your room.

“Make yourself comfortable I guess.” You deadpanned at him, “And we’re still going downstairs anyways.” He shrugged.

He couldn’t help but be taken aback by the layout of your room. There were plants in almost every corner, on every shelf. Vines growing on your walls, half read books strewn across your bedside table and dresser, your pet birds of all different shaped and sizes flew freely around your room, chirping every once in a while. “So you’re a bird whisperer, huh?” He said, looking around.

“I’m an animal whisperer.” You said, “That’s kind of like my entire thing.”

He let out a hearty laugh before making his way out of your room.

“Tea?” You asked, heading towards the kitchen as the winged hero made himself comfortable on your couch.

“Sure.” He picked up your remote with one his feathers, flicking through the channels.

He turned his attention to you a couple moments later as you took a seat across from him at your coffee table, setting down two mugs of green tea.

He explained his plan carefully, paying close attention to all details and pausing for any questions you might have. You had to admit, as much as an annoying asshole this guy could be, he knew what he was doing. You could tell he plans his strategies very carefully, as much as he likes to come off as lazy and laid back to the general public. He was a damn good hero. And you hated admitting it but he was right, utlizing his speed and your ability to control weather, it wouldn’t be all that hard to stop villain attacks.

Hawks also couldn’t help but admire you. You seemed attentive, always paying close attention to detail and asking a lot of questions. I mean he already knew you were good at your job, watching some of the viral videos of your fights with villains.

—

When the day finally came, it went as smoothly as planned, of course with a little bumps along the way. Still, the few civilians that were hurt only had minor injuries, and you and hawks made it so only a couple bombs hit the ground.

You, Hawks, and some other minor heroes who had joined mid-battle regrouped to talk about how to resolve the collateral damage.

“It’s not too much to be honest, I’ll have it all repaired by midni-“

“Wow! What an incredible display of courage from Hawks and Mother Nature, currently sitting at number 2 and number 3 of Japan’s Hero BillBoard Chart!” A loud reporter exclaimed, accompanied by a camera crew.

Of course.

You tried your best to ignore and keep talking to fellow heroes until a microphone was shoved in your face. The face of the reporter gleamed as she talked to you. “Tell me Mother Nature, how does it feel working with number 2 hero Hawks?” You winced at the question, but answered nevertheless.

“Hawks is a  diligent hero with a lot of experience under his belt despite being so young. It was great working with him.” You answered, forcing a smile on your face.

“There’s speculation that you two planned this together..is this true? How were you able to predict this attack? More importantly, are you two dating?” Those questions hit you like a truck.

“Um..no comment.” Was all you could answer with.

Nevertheless, the reporter persisted, “Well there has to be something going on. It’s just my opinion but you two seem perfect for each other.” She giggled at the camera, “Please! The public is dying to know!”

Before you could even muster up an answer to the reporter’s overwhelming question, a giant scarlet wing came between you and the reporter, blinding both her and the camera from your view.

“Hey. She said she doesn’t wanna talk about it. Let’s respect personal boundaries, yeah?” Hawks said in a nice but slightly defensive tone.

You blushed, looking up at him. As nice we he was trying to sound, he looked angry. And damn right he was. How dare they talk to you like you’re no more than just some D-list celebrity? You’re a fucking hero, who cares about dating speculation when you just saved Japan’s largest city? And how dare they ask questions about him when you were the one doing most of the work. He was enraged, and it was his natural instinct to protect the thing he cared for.

Before you knew it, he latched his arms around your waist, pushing you into his chest.

You were flustered. “What are you-“

“Let’s go.” Was all he said before flapping his wings, sending you guys soaring through the air.

You held on to him for dear life, damn was he fast.

Hawks smirked to himself, feeling your rapid heartbeat against his chest. You were trying your best to hide your blushing by burying your face in his neck, granted that probably made it worse because he could already tell by how hot your face was.

God, she’s adorable

As soon as you two landed on top of a building, you pushed him away as quickly as possible.

He chuckled, putting both of his hands up in defense, “You’re the one making this awkward y’know? Plus you owe me for saving your ass.”

You were angry. Was it because of the downright rude questions that the reporter asked you not too long ago, was it because you knew tabloids would be posting all about you and Hawks for the next couple of days, was it because you were..warming up to that damned bird?

And then you started. “Just so you know, this..us..is not a thing. It will never be a thing. I wish you’d just stop flirting with me all the damn time. Just move on to the next female hero. I actually don’t care what you do. Just leave me alone. I don’t understand why you have to be so clingy, it’s annoying.”

Hawks did nothing but smile, listening to you ramble.

“You know…I-“ He interjected, only to be interrupted by you.

“And geez, you’re so goddamn entitled. I owe you? I don’t owe you anything. I didn’t even need your help. You’re no different from any other guy, you’re fucking insuffer-“

Hawks shut you up with a gentle kiss on your lips.

Oh.

“You talk too much.” He said in a low whisper, before pulling on your chin to kiss you again. You kissed him back, resting your hands on his chest, completely indulging in the moment.

Fuck. Your knees were weak. As much as you wanted to keep going you pulled away, blushing furiously and refusing to make eye contact with him.

“Oh? So now you’re shy?” He chuckled, pulling you closer to him. He tried to catch your gaze but you just moved your head away from him each time.

“Someone might see us. This is bad,” You were able to muster out.

“You’re so fucking cute.” He said, making you blush even more. He continued, “I don’t flirt with you for no reason, y’know? Sure, sometimes it’s just to tease..but I think you’re amazing.”

You felt like you were melting in his arms. Unable to find the right words, you panicked. You were gone in seconds, manipulating the wind so it could carry you back home, the same stupid blush unable to leave your face.

“Call me!” He yelled.

That damn bird.

[after-witch]

Hook Line and Sinker [Yandere Ransom Drysdale x Reader]

Title: Hook Line and Sinker [Yandere Ransom Drysdale x Reader]

Synopsis: You’ve broken up with Ransom Drysdale, and you mean it this time. But the freedom that comes with the breakup leads to a series of unexpected coincidences that leave you wondering: was it worth the price?

Word Count: 8955

notes: yandere, mentions of physical abuse, financial abuse, comfort sweaters

Nothing lasts forever. Not even relationships--and certainly not love. What might start off as an intense, passionate relationship can (and did, in your case) eventually fizzle; things that you were willing to overlook when you were absolutely besotted would wear down with time, and eventually they became too much to ignore.

That’s what you tell yourself, what you remind yourself, in the moment after you tell him:

“It’s over, Ransom. We’re done. I’m leaving.”

It couldn’t last forever. Not with his inability to stay sober, not with his tendency to cheat on you with meaningless flings that somehow hurt more than any steamy single-minded affair. Not with his flare-ups of controlling tendencies that left you in tears on the bathroom floor as he asked you to please stop dressing like a slut in front of his family, is that too hard to ask?

You’d asked him to change. He swore he would; he never did. You forgave him, more than once, more times than you could count. But enough was enough. Maybe he thought you were too weak to leave him, especially three years into your relationship, when your lives were becoming so integrated, pushing you towards a potential permanent future. It was a future that left you feeling numb and anxious. Stuck in a marriage with someone who wanted to stay with you but treated you horribly, all the same. And that wasn’t even getting into the family dynamics that left your head spinning.

He stares at you now, and his mouth opens just a little bit in what you know is going to be a barrage of questions, insults, maybe even threats spurred on by your words. But instead he closes his mouth and shakes his head, letting out a soft, bitter chuckle.

“Well, damn. This sucks.” You can see the indent of his tongue in his cheek before he clicks and shrugs. “Guess that’s it then. Need help packing your shit or what?”

His response is so blasé that you’re genuinely shocked and, you must admit, a little hurt. He didn’t even ask for a second chance or beg you to stay or argue with you about your terrible timing because our-vacation-to-Hawaii-is-coming-up. So it’s your turn to look surprised, and you shake your head.

“No, I… already took care of it. It’s at a storage locker.” You didn’t have family left, and your close friends had pulled away from you one by one once you stayed with Ransom time and time again--so you’d had to pay movers to help you pack and transport everything to storage over the weekend, while Ransom was away and you were free to make a clean breakup.

He nods, sticks his hand inside his jacket pockets. He’s looking around the room, avoiding direct eye contact in a clear show of his discomfort. It’s weird seeing Ransom like this--the normally self-assured, cocky Ransom, looking for any excuse not to look at you.

“So… see ya around?” His tone is sincere, if still confused. The idea of you leaving must have really never crossed his mind. The look on his face when he finally faces you again appears genuinely puzzled.

He sticks out his hand and it feels almost comical for things to end this way, particularly considering the nights you’d spent imagining some big blow up, some big fight with Ransom screaming and you firing off the many reasons why it had to end no matter what he said.

But it didn’t go the way you expected at all. It was calm. Easy. A clean break-up.

So you shake his hand and grab your purse and the small roller-suitcase and give a half-hearted wave as you walk out the door; the taxi you’d hired to pick you up is waiting, car running, meter going. You would be staying at a hotel for two weeks, which would hopefully be enough time to find a semi-decent apartment; your credit score had improved so much since Ransom added you to his cards, to a shared checking account, and it wouldn’t be too difficult to get approved.

A new life, one where you could focus on yourself for once, was just around the corner.

**

"I'm sorry, miss, but it's definitely not the reader. The card is declined."

You've had this nightmare before. No, you've lived this nightmare before--years ago when your credit was shit and you ran up your cards and had to face the music in a publicly humiliating display with the longest checkout line you'd ever seen behind you. Only that was years ago, in a little grocery store, and since getting together with Ransom you never had to worry about problems like this. You never had to worry about the shame of not having enough, not being enough.

But this? This was happening now. In an upscale hotel. With your nice purse (a Christmas present) and designer clothes (casual, comfortable) and your cheeks flushed undeniably warm.

The hotel clerk has a tight, sympathetic smile on her face. A coworker who walks behind her glances at you, judging, and you just know he's going to head into some break room and tell everyone but yet another piece of discarded army candy with a declined credit card. You wish you'd kept your sunglasses on.

"Did it, um, say why? I don't--" you plaster a smile on your face, hating the way this all feels familiar, like a part of your past coming back to haunt you. "I don't understand, the card is good."

The clerk's smile flickers, just a bit.

"It says there's a fraud alert on this card. Perhaps you'd better call the company. Or would you like me to call them?"

Fucking. Ransom.

"Oh, oh no, don’t worry about it. I’ll call them myself. I'm so sorry about this." You turn away from the clerk as quickly as possible and step away from the counter, away from the person waiting behind you who will surely have no trouble with their card, away from the clerks giving you a passive side-eye. You lean against a cool cement pillar in the lobby and you know what you have to do.

You have to call Ransom.

You haven't deleted his number yet--you'd planned on calling him today or tomorrow to figure out how to split up your shared finances--so it's easy enough to find the number. It's not so easy to tap his contact, but you have to, so you force yourself to do it and stare at his photo as the call rings. And rings. And rings. “Hello?” Your breath catches but in an instant, when the message continues, you feel stupid. It’s his voicemail. Fuck.

You text him, instead. Emergency. Call right away. And of course: He leaves you on read. Fuck.

You call him again. And again. He picks up on the sixth call, but your heart is racing too hard and sweat is beading down your forehead and it takes you a moment to confirm that the "Hello?" wasn't part of the voicemail message this time. Fuck.

"Um. Hey," you say, keeping your voice as un-royally-pissed-off as possible, because if he did put in a fraud alert then you don't want to risk any additional asshole moves. "So there's something wrong with the card? The one that ends in 8921? The hotel said there was a fraud alert and--"

"Did you really think I'm going to keep paying for your shit if we're over?"

His voice is quick, biting--exactly what you'd expected from him earlier. Somehow it stings even harsher over the phone, where you feel more helpless, unable to avoid his words.

"I thought..." you wet your lips, trying to maintain your cool. "Look, my name is on them, so I thought send you my part of the payments until I can get cards in my own name."

He chuckles, low and short. "Yeah? What, you want to create a payment schedule or something?"

You fight back the annoyance in your tone. You hate having to be the bigger person, but your finances--your life--is on the line. "Yeah, actually, that'd be perfect. It wouldn't be for long. You know I'll pay them on time, I'm not looking to screw you over."

"You're going too pay me on time? For all the stuff you've bought, the stuff I’ve bought for you, this hotel room and god knows what else? How are you going to afford all that?"

He knows you recently earned a promotion at your work. He knows this, because you were so excited about it, and his half-assed congratulations over lukewarm leftovers left you feeling bitter and sad and useless. So you can't help it when bitterness seeps into your voice with your answer. "You know I just got a promotion."

"Did you?" It's said in such a casual tone that it gives you pause, but a moment later he simply hangs up on you.

Fucking. Ransom.

You shove your phone back into your purse, and the clerks at the counter are staring at you. Sweat has trickled down your back and your shirt sticks to your skin ever-so-slightly as you pull away from the pillar and approach the counter, awkward smile and cheeks hot.

"There is an issue with the card, they're working on it, so I’ll just call for a new reservation when it's fixed. I'm so sorry for the mix up!" Your voice is so peppy and high-pitched and fake and you feel like you’re back at your old job, feet aching with falling apart shoes, forced to deal with people returning old toasters laden with crumbs, calming they’d “just bought it the day before and it didn’t work.”

"Of course," the clerk says, and you know this is hotel clerk code for "You're a shitty liar."

You roll your suitcase out of the lobby with tears in your eyes and you shove your sunglasses on as soon as you've cleared the building. You feel exhausted, drained--so you use what little energy you have left to start googling for cheap motels.

**

The room smells musty. You pin the plastic sheet you’d snagged at a dollar store over the comforter and pray it will be enough to protect you from whatever is on the likely unwashed fabric. The TV is broken, there’s no WIFi, and there’s a few suspicious stains on the floor that make you wonder if this hotel has ever been featured in a porno, true crime show, or both.

But it’s all you could afford with the cash in your wallet. You only had enough cash on hand for 2 nights at a ragtag hotel that offers nightly and hourly rates. You didn’t dare use your debit card or any credit cards with Ransom’s name or information on them.

You just need some sleep. A good night’s sleep to feel renewed and ready to tackle retaking your life, bit by bit. In the morning, you need to go to the bank and withdraw your money from the joint bank account. Then you can reopen an account in your name, get a new debit card, and apply for a few credit cards afterwards.

Sure, it would have been nicer to do this without Ransom being an asshole. But deep down, you suspected he wouldn’t let you have a clean, lets-still-be-friends type of break. Not after all the times he’d pressured you into staying, manipulating you with words and gifts and promises, promises. Promises that were worth shit. 

The sheet crinkles underneath you as you scroll through your messages. You’d texted a few formerly close friends about the breakup earlier, hoping that they’d maybe want to reconnect. So far, you’d been left on read, blocked, and received only one response: “New number, who is this?”

So much for that. Not that you can blame them. There are only so many times they can rush over for a late night intervention in which you tell them every horrible thing Ransom does (he’s controlling, he doesn’t want me to meet with friends without permission, he tells me what I can and can’t wear, he cheats, he lies, he pushed me--)--before they get tired of you returning to him, again and again and again.

The only one who’d been texting you recently--okay, for the past year--had been Ransom. Mostly dick pics. And demands for you to send him something back, which you always did after a while, because you didn’t want to deal annoyed texts or voice messages accusing you of clearly cheating on him or hating him because why else wouldn’t you be willing to send him so much as a sexy selfie to your boyfriend? 

But in between those, there were conversations. Sometimes sweet ones, sometimes thoughtful ones that always made you remember why you fell hard for him in the first place. Late night conversations from when he was off on trips. You try not to wonder if he was fucking someone on each of these trips, if while you were sending him a late night ramble about a TV show and he was humoring you with jokes and quips, he was actually snuggled up with someone else. Laying in bed, naked, laughing at your dumb ass waiting at home.

The not-so-sweet conversations were ones that you had screenshotted and sent to your friends more than once, before they pulled themselves away. Texts asking where you were. Asking who you ate lunch with, and whether or not you were fucking them. Asking why your new office was connected to a certain co-worker’s, and how many blowjobs you had to give to get said new office because you didn’t tell him about the new office until after you were moved in, so you were clearly hiding him. Asking you to send him outfit pics so he could approve them or make you change if they were too slutty or not slutty enough or if you were only clearly wearing that halter dress to try to get with the bartender.

Yet your mind had always returned to the nice Ransom, the Ransom who made you laugh and squeezed you hard when had a shitty day of work and let you bury your face in his sweater as you snuggled on the couch. Maybe that’s why it took so long to leave.  You were waiting for him to stop being Ransom and start being the fantasy of Ransom you’d conjured in your head.

Your eyes feel heavy so you plug in your phone, turn the sound off, and lay down on the uncomfortable plastic sheet that crinkled over the pillows. It feels strange to lay on a lumpy mattress covered in plastic, after years of custom-made beds and memory foam pillows and all the other luxuries that Ransom was able to provide.

You try not to think about it too much. While you won’t exactly be indulging in all the luxuries you had with Ransom, but your job pays you well, and you won’t ever have to go back to living hand-to-mouth like you did before. You won’t have to worry about late bills and debt collectors and landlords who come late at night and demand inspections while you’re in your pajamas.

You have work in the morning. You have to get to the bank in the morning. Your thoughts are still buzzing with anxiety as you fall into an uneasy slumber.

**

“I’m sorry, but the account has been closed.”

You feel years of customer service training cracking underneath your skin. You can’t freak out. If you freak out, they won’t feel inclined to go the extra mile. You know this, from firsthand experience.

So you take a shaky breath. “Um, this just--it isn’t possible. It’s a joint account. I’m on the account. There was money in there, you can check--”

“I’m sorry, but the funds were transferred and account has been closed by the other account holder. There’s nothing I can do. I suggest contacting the other party in the account.”

You swallow and nod and walk away, this time having been smart enough to keep your sunglasses on to hide your humiliated expression. Why didn’t you insist on having your own account? Ransom said it was better to keep it joint, so you could just buy stuff whenever you wanted. You’d agreed because it was so generous, something you’d never thought possible at the time, when you were used to having to pay overdraft fees and cringing whenever you checked your balance.

Your fingers tremble as you bring up his contact on your phone. You tap. No answer.

You don’t have time to call him two, three, ten times--you have to get to work. So you steady your nerves. You breathe in, you breathe out. You get in your car and plug your phone in and decide to contact your lawyer. Fuck--your lawyer was Ransom's lawyer. But the anxiety eases when you remember that you’d paid him a retainer fee months ago, and Ransom couldn’t do anything about that. You could at least get a basic consult out of the retainer.

The call ringing sounds muffled through your car’s speaker but it isn’t long before someone answers, and you’re transferred to the lawyer Ransom insisted you have--gotta have a lawyer when you have money, babe--and that you hadn’t spoken to in ages.

“Hi,” you say, voice artificially bright, “this is--”

You don’t get a chance to finish.

“I know who this is.” The lawyer sounds tired, and his tone is curt and clipped. “I’m sorry. I’m no longer able to provide you with any legal counsel.”

You almost miss a red light and regret calling the office while you were driving.

“Is this about the debit card? Because I paid the retainer months ago--”

“The retainer has been refunded into the connected checking account.”

Your voice looses its artificial cheeriness and you stumble over your words in frustration. “That’s--it’s--it was a joint account, which is why I called, Ransom drained it and took everything. Isn’t there something we can do, because that was my money too and--”

“I am no longer able to provide you with legal counsel.”

You want to cry. You hate crying, as an adult. It makes you feel weak. Especially on the phone.

“I don’t understand. Why was the retainer refunded? Did--did someone call you?”

He clears his throat into the phone. “I am no longer able to provide you with legal counsel. Goodbye.”

He hangs up. Your hands shake.

You pull into the parking lot of your work and park the car and as soon as you do, you hunch yourself over the steering wheel and simply shake in frustration.

You have no bank account. Ransom drained it. You have no credit cards. Ransom blocked them. You couldn’t even talk to a lawyer, because--shock--Ransom made sure you couldn’t. Everything was in Ransom’s name. He insisted on adding you to his accounts, closing out your own paltry ones; insisted that he pay off your credit card debt, and making you close those, too, instead adding you to his cards. It was all to help you out, he said, at the time.

Wasn’t it? He was shockingly not judgmental about the state of your finances, and while you’d put up some protest, you didn’t exactly argue with him when he suggested wiping your debts clean and getting your credit back up. And considering that he wasn’t immune to needing a bail-out now and then (late night calls to his grandfather, snarky comments at his parent’s dinner table, come to mind) maybe he could sympathize with being in over your head. Even if your issues were rooted in poverty and shitty jobs and his were rooted in a total lack of financial discipline and, as you’d later found out, a drug addiction.

Still. He helped you before. He would help you now, once he realized how serious it was. For now he was just--reacting like an asshole, acting childish and ridiculous. He was an asshole. You know this. You’ve known this. You need to call him and meet with him and make him realize how ridiculous he’s being, and he’ll sigh and snark but he’ll agree to stop acting like such an ass.

But first you have to work. Life goes on. Even without Ransom--even with Ransom, screwing you over out of pettiness.

The air conditioning in the lobby is on blast, and the familiar smell of clean furniture and floor cleaner from the late-night cleaning crew is surprisingly comforting. Here, you can forget about Ransom--forget about the cards and the lawyer and the fact that your life has been upended in mere hours. If only until your lunch break, at least.

Anthony is working the front desk and you give him a a soft, if strained smile. There’s something in the smile that he gives you in return that reminds you of the hotel clerk. Sympathetic and judgmental.

Ah. You probably look like--well, less than your best, you realize. You did pack some toiletries in your suitcase but the water in the motel had streaks of brown and you didn’t shower, opting instead to rinse your face with what was left of a water bottle you’d bought earlier and layering on more deodorant to make up for the lack of a proper scrub. You probably looked a bit tired, haggard, not unlike some of the employees who got stuck with big clients the night before their paperwork was due.

Still. Nothing that freshening up in your private bathroom--thank god for the new office--can’t help. So you hit the button on the elevator and take deep breaths as you ride up, intent on working as productively as possible. The doors open and you navigate the familiar maze of open-plan desks for the lower-tier workers, desks surrounded by half-walls that always kept you staring straight ahead, lest you accidentally glance over and see a co-worker picking their nose.

Yet as you weave in-and-out of the familiar rows, heading towards the back of the room where the real offices, the ones with full walls and doors and privacy glass lay, you can’t help but feel that something is… off. 

No one calls out to greet you, though that can be easily attributed to the jealousy over your promotion. You’d been working there for far less than most of the lower level workers--Ransom got you the job, with his connections and a hefty revision of your resume and, you assume, some personal phone calls--and you’d already been promoted to senior management. That wasn’t technically Ransom’s work, though. That was all your own effort, your own blood, sweat, tears and intense devotion to each project that came your way. Sure, the connections he helped you make, the dinner parties, all that helped--but if it weren’t for your skills, the connections wouldn’t have made a difference. Right? 

Still, whatever bitterness existed in the people hunch in open-air cubicles, the receptionists always greeted you. But today they caught your eye then awkwardly glanced down, or pretended to be looking for something in their drawers. It was odd. Did you look that bad? That out of sorts?

You shake off the heavy feeling in your stomach and for once, you shut the door to your office instead of keeping it open for passers-by or people needing approval for this-and-that. It feels good to lean against the solid wood door and take a breath, a deep one, invigorating and calming.

A quick trip to the bathroom has you staring at yourself from all angles. You don’t look that bad, you reason. Just tired. But who wouldn’t be, sleeping on a plastic sheet in the shittiest motel in the area? You take a quick sniff under your arms but even that reveals nothing much but a faint hint of sweat and powdery deodorant.

There’s a firm knock at your office door and you glance at the mirror for a final once over before opening it up. It’s your boss. Did you have a meeting? You try to do a mental scan of something you’ve missed, but nothing comes to mind.

“Hi,” you say, wavering with uncertainty at the threshold. Should you invite him in? “What can I do for you? We didn’t have a meeting, did we?” You let yourself chuckle, dry and quick. “I’m sorry, I’m a bit scattered this morning.”

Your boss doesn’t return your chuckle, which immediately raises the hairs on the back of your neck. Something was wrong. Shit--you were working on a major project for a seriously important client. The type of client that could genuinely make or break a company, if you got on their bad side. You press your lips together and make a silent vow to keep it serious.

“I’d like to keep this conversation private.” His tone is low and serious and you invite him in without a second thought, shutting the thick door behind you, trying to ignore the way everyone was shooting glances as it closed. Fuck, fuck, fuck, your thoughts race--no wonder everyone was giving you the stink eye. Something was wrong with the client, and you were the one making primary contact with them.

Your boss takes a seat on the leather sofa pushed up against the wall and you immediately set yourself down behind your desk.

He sighs. Short. Frustrated. Annoyed.

“We have to let you go.”

The words don’t register.

“Go where?”

It’s only after you say it that you realize what he said, what it meant, and you feel like a colossal moron in every respect.

“It’s not working out,” he continues, staring at your desk and not at your face. “Since you’ve only been in this position for a month, you don’t quality for senior severance. The best we can do is to pay you what you’ve earned this week.”

Your mouth is so dry that you don’t know if you can talk. Your hand fumbles on your desk for a water bottle you’d left overnight, and that’s when you see it--the photo frame. You keep a photo of yourself and Ransom, cuddled together for a selfie, on your desk. The photo was lying on your desk, frameless, ripped in half--leaving only your vacantly smiling face staring up at you.

Ransom was here.

“Did he put you up to this?” You whisper. “Did Ransom tell you to fire me?”

You know he won’t answer. But you stare at him so fervently that he can’t help but look up at you, and you see it all in his eyes, in the subtle, embarrassed expression of his face.

You can imagine Ransom strolling in--maybe he called first--and settling in for a private audience with your boss in his office. He’d probably pull the chair up to the desk and put his feet on it, just to be an ass. Then he’d bring up… you. And why you had to be let go. Did he give a reason, did he tell your boss why a respected employee who he once secured a position for, who shot up the ranks through intense effort and work, needed to be fired? Did he even need to give a reason?

“This is absolute bullshit,” you say, finally, voice dry and hoarse and bitter. You want to say you’ll be contacting a lawyer. That this won’t stand. But you know--and he knows--that there’s nothing you can do.

Your boss stands, slow, and sighs again. “I’m sorry it had to end this way. Pack up your things as quickly as possible.”

He leaves, and you keep your eyes trained on the ripped photograph to avoid seeing the expressions of the people in the doorway before your boss mercifully shuts the door.

It takes all of your effort not to cry.

You don’t have much effort left.

**

Your things consisted of a handful of personal items, little touches you’d brought in to make your office feel more like “you.” A nice picture print. A pastel afghan to drape over the couch. A stapler with a floral design. You have the strong urge to dump them in a trash can, but that’s quickly quelled by the realization that you can’t afford to buy new things, or any things, at this point.

You don’t care if wearing your sunglasses as you power walk to the elevators makes you look stupid. You know someone, somewhere in this office is filming you and probably captioning it with something stupid to post to their Reels or TikTok, and it just makes you leave faster. A few people murmur comments your way, sympathetic in tone, but you’re not really listening. None of their platitudes matter, because Ransom was here, in your workplace, in your office, and he stole the thing you were most proud of from under your feet.

To his credit, when you reach the bottom floor, Anthony practically fumbles out from behind his desk and holds the door open for you. He mouths a “Sorry” and he probably is, but he’s probably used to dealing with rich assholes like Ransom who get what they want, when they want it; even when what they want is to fire a good employee on demand for very personal reasons.

The sun is beating down hard, even for the morning, and the stress of your situation makes you blast the air conditioning as soon as you get in the car. God, the car--how are you going to afford the payments? You wish you could call your mom. You wish your friends--are they even your friends, anymore?--would call you back.

You grab your phone from your purse and stare at the black screen. Maybe you should call the friend who didn’t block you. She would answer, if you called, because she knew you didn’t make calls unless it was serious. She might not rush to your side, but maybe she can offer you a place to stay, a couch, some advice. A kind word would do, right now, with how much anxiety and frustration has been packed into the last 12 hours.

But when you unlock your screen, your gut sinks. Five missed calls. From the storage company. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You tap their number and bring the phone to your ear and pretend that your hands aren’t shaking.

The man who answers is the same one you talked to on the phone before, when setting up your move. “Hello, Move’nSecure Storage Company. This is Steve speaking. How many I help you?”

“Hi Steve!” You hate how chipper you sound. “I actually just got a few missed calls from you guys, I’m sorry, I was in the office and--”

“Oh.” His voice is surprisingly flat, suddenly flat, losing its customer service inflection in an instant before picking it back up. “Yes. We’ve been trying to reach you. For confirmation, the storage locker your purchased is A443, correct?”

You fumble in your purse for the receipt and confirm the little numbers printed neatly on the paper. “Yes, A443. Is everything okay?”

“No, it’s not.” You’re grateful that you didn’t have much for breakfast because you know it would be clawing its way back up at this point. “The card you gave us for the storage fee was declined.”

The debit card. You’d paid in cash for the move, and paid for 1 month of storage with the card. The card that was now useless, connected to an empty and closed bank account.

“Is there another card you can give us?”

“No, but...” You say, because no, there is not. There is not a card. There is not a job. There is nothing. “But if you could just hold my stuff, I’ll be there in less than a hour to get it.”

“We don’t hold items,” Steve tells you, a rehearsed banality to his tone. “Your items are currently outside the unit.”

You instinctively want to yell at Steve but, fuck fuck fuck, you’ve been there, behind the counter, dealing with people who couldn’t pay for shit and then had the nerve to get upset with you. “All of it?” You ask, your voice cracking slightly.

“Yes.”

You hang up, and toss your phone onto the passenger seat. The quicker you get there, the less chance that something will get broken or stolen or who knows what else.

The trip to the storage unit seems to take forever, and when you arrive you don’t even take a second to lock your car doors. Instead you sprint inside, startling Steve--looking at his phone, then at you, then at the sign plastered up on the wall leading to the storage locker floors. He points. Row A, separated into 100s, 200s, 300s, and--your number--400s.

You don’t remember if you say ‘thank you,’ because you’re speed-walking down the hallway and following the signs and it isn’t long before you see it: a storage locker with tons of stuff piled up, dumped, outside the now-empty unit where it was supposed to be safe and sound. Waiting for you to get an apartment and pick it back up and rearrange it into your new life, your new “you.”

The problem is immediate: You can’t fit all this in your car. You don’t know anyone who could take the stuff for you. You mind reels for options and the only thing you can come up with is ferrying your belongings to and from the hotel. You can pay for a few more days once you cash your partial paycheck. After that… you don’t know.

Pawn your things? Yeah. That might work. You can get enough cash by pawning most of your stuff, the good stuff. Enough money to get you into a shitty apartment with leaks and a bad landlord. Then you can a job that barely pays rent and you’ll be right back where you started, before you met Ransom. Before you thought leaking ceilings and $20 paychecks after taxes were a thing of the past.

You ignore the humiliation that makes your stomach curl as you take your things out to the car, handful by handful. Steve doesn’t bother holding the door open for you. You mention that you’re going to be back on your way out, and he offers a non-committal hum.

At least when you get to the hotel, the owner sees you fumbling with boxes and offers to help you out. It takes less time with two hands to get everything in the room, and once it’s locked up you head back out to the storage units.

You keep your sunglasses on for the second trip into the storage unit, even though you don’t know Steve or care what he thinks. He doesn’t look up when you walk in and it’s just as well, since you’re only heading back to the A-400s and don’t need his non-existent help.

But the sight that greets you when you round the corner to your unpaid-for storage locker makes your blood run cold.

Your stuff is gone. All of it.

You rush back to the desk, where Steve does look up, startled by your urgency.

“My stuff,” you spit out, “My stuff is gone! Someone took it!”

Steve shrugs. “Sorry.” He points to a sign behind him: “We are not responsible for the loss of items inside or outside storage lockers.”

“Are you fucking kidding?” You can’t the anger in your voice this time. “You just watched someone walk off with my stuff and didn’t say anything?”

Steve raises his eyebrows. “If it was that important, you shouldn’t have left it here. Or you should have given us another card.”

You feel like throwing your hands up but you just clench your fist and storm out the door, huffing as you reach your car. The anger melts into the sense of loss, the realization that you only have a few meager items that you’d managed to collect; you picked the lightest stuff, first. And in retrospect it was things that didn’t matter much at all. Clothes. Hair supplies. Makeup. You should have grabbed the box with your USB sticks, your memory cards, your photo albums; your personal mementos and sentimental shit. Instead you grabbed the box with your shampoo.

At least the clothes might get something in a pawnshop. The makeup, too, on Facebook or Depop or Instagram. But it wouldn’t be enough to put you up in an apartment. You’ll have to live in your car. Until they repossess it for lack of payment.

You don’t have your bank account, your credit cards, your job, a place to stay, or your personal possessions. And soon, you won’t have your car.

You have no friends. No boyfriend. No family.

All you have $20 left in your wallet and well, fuck it. You grab some McDonalds on the way home because, fuck it, and eat all the fries before you make it to the motel. The thought of eating in your dirty room makes your stomach turn and you decide to eat everything else you bought, the burger and the shake and the chicken nuggets too, tossing the wrappers on the floor. It feels like deja vu--getting cheap fast food to make you feel full, tossing trash on the floor of the passenger seat, all bringing back the way you used to when you’d grab something from the dollar menu on your way to work at the call center.

You almost wish you could stay at this hotel, brown water and all. The owner is decently nice. He smiles at you when you enter and doesn’t bring up that you didn’t come back with more boxes, like you said you would.  

You’re surprised at how grateful you feel for the dingy hotel room now that you won’t be able to stay here more than another day. Now that the alternative is sleeping in your car, then sleeping on the street, if you were lucky.

Your phone feels heavy when you set it on the table and stare at the home screen. Another photo of you and Ransom stares back up at you. You haven’t had time to change it up yet. He’s grinning. You’re smiling. It’s a good photo. You try to place it in your memory, try to remember what beach that was, but your trips blur together and you can’t.

Should you call him? If it was just the cards, just him being petty over credit and finances, it was one thing. You could try to placate him with returning gifts, just asking him to give you what you put in from your own paychecks. But making you lose your job? It was too far, too fucking far. And there was no going back from that. Fuck, someone was probably moving into your office as you sat in this dimly lit room mourning the loss of your entire life.

For a brief, very fleeting moment, you consider calling Harlan. You weren’t exceptionally close, but he seemed to like you well enough. He’d even asked you once, puling you aside at a tension-filled family party, if Ransom treated you right, told you to tell him if he ever got to be too much. Harlan felt like Ransom’s keeper--in more ways than one. You could never tell Harlan about the shouts or the occasional bruises from when Ransom really, really lost his temper--it’s not like you could prove them, anyway, as Ransom made sure to keep you away from his family when he lost control like that. No need for excuses about running into doors when he made sure you looked your best at family functions.

But the thought of breaking the uneasy stasis that Ransom had with the most significant member of his family made you want to vomit. There would be no coming back from that, and you knew better than to cross any line involving the great Harlan Thrombey.

You could call your friend--ex-friend? The one who didn’t block you or forget your number. You should. No, you will. Because what else do you have to lose.

But before you can bring up her number, you get a text--Ransom. It’s a photo and your curiosity gets the better of you as you click the notification.

“What the fuck?”

He’s sent you a photo of his car, trunk open. It’s filled with boxes, odds-and-ends. It’s filled with your stuff.

You text him: What??

He texts back: Hey. I’m in front of the hotel. Come out? Bring your suitcase. :P

It’s your stuff. It’s his car. He’s here. All reason is thrown aside as you grab your suitcase and purse and rush down the hallway, ignoring the owner’s confused response from behind his desk as you push open the front doors and look around the parking lot.

His car is parked to the side, not in front of the hotel’s glass double doors. He’s standing outside his car, leaning against it. He takes off his sunglasses and tucks them in his pocket when he sees you approaching, face confused and fuming all at once.

“What the fuck, Ransom, what the fuck is your problem--”

“Hey, hey,” he says, hands up in defense, “You’re not even going to thank me for picking up your stuff?”

You feel suddenly, impossibly rooted to the spot.

“What do you--what? You took my stuff?”

He shrugs. “C’mon, did you really think I’d just leave your stuff in some shitty storage unit? Someone would’ve taken it if I didn’t get there first.”

You swallow. “Why?” You ask, because Ransom never does anything for no reason. Or so you’ve learned.

His expression loses a bit of its cocky casualness. He tilts his head a bit, looking at you as if you’ve asked a particularly offensive question.

“Why do you think?”

To lord it over you? To make you think your stuff was gone and make you worried, sick, crazy?

“I don’t know,” is what you settle for in the end. “I really, really don’t. You--” You lick your lips, and try to calm down, calm the pitter-patter of your heart, and think before you speak. “You’ve done some pretty messed up stuff today. My job?” The last question comes out soft and pained, and you know your eyes are starting to tear up.

“Hey.” His voice is soft and placating and it makes your stomach flip as he approaches you, standing there on the sidewalk with your purse and suitcase. “Hey, c’mon. Don’t cry on me.”

You know this Ransom. The Ransom that holds you and pets your hair and offers to get Thai food delivered even though he doesn’t like it just to make you happy.

He puts his hand on your shoulder and you jerk it away. “Don’t.” That Ransom is a fantasy. Or an incomplete version, the version that pretends he doesn’t lie and cheat and hurt you in more ways than one. “Don’t you fucking dare, especially not after what you pulled today. My job? My job, Ransom? You’re a--a fucking asshole.”

He puts his hands up again, defensive, and takes a step back. But he doesn’t return to his car, and stays just a few steps in front of you.

“Look. Call me an asshole. Sure, fine, I can admit that. But do you know what else I am?”

He waits a beat, waits for you to look at him, before he continues. “I’m a realist. I like facts. And the fact is? You aren’t much without me. No job, no credit cards, no bank account. Without me, you’re just some broke chick scrambling to get an apartment in the shittiest part of town, working a dead-end job that don’t pay shit. With me though…. “

He leaves the words unfinished, but you know what he means. Flashes of your life, cocktails and smart business outfits and dinners at restaurants you didn’t even dream about attending before you met him. Phone calls with shakers in the industry and social media requests from people you’d never dream you’d meet. Connections that meant something, a career path, dinner parties with people who could offer tangible benefits to your career and your life.

It wasn’t that he spoiled you. He wasn’t a sugar daddy. You weren’t getting gifts for blowjobs. It was that his presence in your life boosted you, socially, financially, mentally, physically, in every which way possible.

His presence got you a job that you loved, which meant you weren’t burnt out when you came home, which meant that you had the time and energy to spend hours catching up on books or redecorating the house or watching movies. Good money meant you could order in whenever you felt like it, meant you didn’t have to worry if you burned dinner because you could just buy new steaks or order-in or go out, last minute, and still get a great table. It meant you had all the clothes you wanted, stylish and personally tailored; it meant you had easy access to a gym and exercise equipment and an indoor pool to keep you healthy. It meant you had a life that provided comfort in every way possible.

Being with Ransom Drysdale was like… like a little shot of privilege directly into your arm.

Privilege that he took away just as easily as he gave it. Just as easily as you took it. Just as easily as you took it and eagerly ignored the dark side underneath. Or maybe you didn’t ignore it. Maybe you liked it, maybe it reminded you of who you were underneath the designer clothes and expensive dinners.

Maybe you wanted to fix him, like he fixed you? He wasn’t totally bad, after all, he did make sure no one took your belongings. Maybe it was your presence that gave him the idea for that touch of sympathy, maybe with Ransom change was slow and muddled, not picture-perfect sweeping changes like the kind in movies.

“So?” Ransom’s voice cuts through your thoughts. “Are you going to come home or,” he waves his hands around dismissively, at the hotel, at you.

You feel very, very less-than right now. You look awful, your hair mussy and your makeup mostly melted off with sweat and sun. You probably smell more than you normally do, thanks to the lack of a shower. Your muscles, sore from the motel bed, ache for the large spa bathtub that Ransom had installed in the master bathroom just for you, stocked with bubbles and salts and overpriced bath bombs that were $10 a pop.

But your muscles had hurt before, when he pushed you against the dresser.

You have nothing, and no one. Except Ransom. Ransom who didn’t judge you when you instinctively saved plastic bottles and boxes, but merely nudged you towards recycling and took you out to splurge on a reusable water bottle and proper storage containers the next day. Ransom who asked you what sort of job you wanted, really wanted, and made it happen for you. Ransom who shrugged and wiped away your credit card debt without making you feel like shit.

Ransom who didn’t let you leave the house if your wrists were sporting fingerprint shaped bruises. Ransom who argued with you about talking to men, even men at work. Ransom who held you tight at night and said he never wanted to let you go, and wouldn’t you just make a fine-ass addition his crazy family. Ransom who took care of you, now that you had no one else.

“What do you want me to do?” The words feel slow, sluggish. Like they wanted to stick to the roof of your mouth and it took everything in you to get them out.

His voice turns low and serious as he stares at you with an characteristic expression. “Well, the first thing is to get down on your knees…”

You feel your eyes practically bugging out.

“What the fuck, Ransom?”

He laughs. He always did have a nice laugh.

“I’m just messing with you, Jesus. Take a chi-I-il pill. Just grab your purse and come sit your sweet ass in the front seat. Let’s go get some burgers, I’m starving.”

Your legs feel like jelly when you take that first step, and the sound of your roller suitcase as you pull it along seems louder than ever. Ransom pops the truck and you just manage to fit it inside with the handle closed, jamming it in between some boxes at an odd angle. The handle of the passenger side is familiar, warm from the sun.

You open the door and practically shove yourself into the seat, closing the door as fast as possible. You can’t do more than glance at him as humiliation and anxiety and just the smallest bit of relief washes over you. It’s been less than 24 hours since you broke up, and here you are--again.

He’s staring at you quietly, his expression difficult to place. He looks relieved. He looks annoyed. He looks like he wants to kiss you. He looks like he wants to slap you. Maybe he wants to do it all at once and can’t decide which to pick.

Instead, he puts his hand on your thigh. Gives it a squeeze. Hard, bordering on painful.  He’s staring straight ahead, at the worn-out sign on the hotel’s front door, one hand gripping the flesh of your thigh. He looks good in profile. “Don’t ever try to pull something like that again. I mean it. I really mean it.”

You turn, glance out the window, familiar tears at the edge of your eyes.

“I won’t,” you whisper, dreaming of the tub and bubbles and how good a warm soak will feel on your back, on your thighs, on your soul.

“Good girl,” he says, patting your thigh firmly. He plucks his sunglasses out of pocket and puts them on in a smooth motion. The car starts smoothly, its fine-tuned and expensive engine a familiar sound, and your hands feel robotic as you pull the seatbelt over your chest and click it tight.

“Let’s get dinner and get home. You have some unpacking to do.”

[antebunny]

never fear, your fairy godmother is here!

(It's Wei Wuxian. He's the fairy godmother)

Wei Wuxian is riding high off a difficult case finally closed when the next call comes through. He’s staring aimlessly into the beautiful delta waters of Lotus Pier with Jiang Cheng when the tingling begins, a familiar sensation somewhere in his chest that tells him that somewhere is a worthy human in need of a guide for their happy ever after.

“–So then I thought, well what am I supposed to do? She doesn’t want a lover or a partner, but her future isn’t fame or riches either.”

Wei Wuxian isn’t sure that Jiang Cheng is actually listening to him, but he’s very proud of himself, so Jiang Cheng can suck it up. He’s used to finding his new charges in difficult and tragic circumstances, but he’s rarely found someone in quite such a sticky situation as poor Qin Su.

“And she insists that she doesn’t have someone in mind,” Wei Wuxian continues. “So you know what I did?”

“Uh-huh,” Jiang Cheng says vaguely, because he’s not listening at all. “Very cool.” He’s not a very good brother, Jiang Cheng. Well, they’re not related, but they also weren’t really born, they just kind of exist, so Wei Wuxian doesn’t worry too much about it.

“I found her a whole team!” Wei Wuxian finishes proudly. “I got a doctor from Qishan, who was looking to get away from her family, and her little brother, and a top disciple from Lanling, and boom! Team of four! That’s a family right there. They’re going to be friends for life.”

“Do you ever consider not boasting about yourself?” Jiang Cheng wonders out loud.

“Hey,” Wei Wuxian objects. “I’ll have you know I’m the number one fairy godmother!”

Jiang Cheng merely rolls his eyes. “As you haven’t stopped saying for the past hundred years.”

“Well, it’s–” Wei Wuxian stops mid-sentence and puts one hand behind him on the wooden planks of the boardwalk so he doesn’t collapse when his stomach rolls.

“Another one?” Jiang Cheng demands. “So soon?”

“I’m in high demand,” Wei Wuxian says weakly.

“But jiejie and I have spent all day making a celebratory dinner,” Jiang Cheng says, dismayed. Then he corrects himself. “I mean, jiejie’s spent all day making dinner for us! Do you want to disappoint her? Do you?!”

Wei Wuxian stands up. If he wasn’t still flushed with success, if only he’d listened to the odd, twisting sensation that said this was not a normal case of a damsel in need of true love, perhaps he would’ve stayed. Perhaps none of what followed would have happened. But perhaps it was always destined to happen.

“I’ll be back before dinner,” Wei Wuxian declares foolishly, and vanishes.

He appears in a thematically dark and twisted forest near sundown. The wind is whispering ominously through the leaves. Wei Wuxian pushes aside a branch in order to enter the clearing from which an ugly sobbing sound is coming from. It must be his new client.

By the light of the dying sun, Wei Wuxian can make out a hunched form dressed in fine white robes. The crying is quiet, but the person’s back shudders. They seem to be holding something. Wei Wuxian takes a moment to adjust. A great pair of black and red butterfly wings appear on his back. Humans more readily accept that he’s capable of inhuman feats if there’s something inhuman (but non threatening) about him. He usually goes for crow or raven wings, but he thinks the current setting might be a little inappropriate for that. Many of Wei Wuxian’s fellow fairy godmothers also opt for fancy robes, but Wei Wuxian’s never really felt comfortable with them.

Wei Wuxian clears his throat. “Hello,” he calls.

The man–because it is a man, Wei Wuxian quickly realizes, with a beauty he’s come to expect from his clients, and a cultivator’s sword–whirls around. He hasn’t got a very expressive face, but Wei Wuxian has spent hundreds of years around people. His client’s eyes are wild, disbelieving. He’s got a Lan ribbon on his forehead, one of the inner clan, if Wei Wuxian isn’t mistaken, and he never is. There are two tear tracks running down his cheeks, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

Wei Wuxian steps closer. His new client staggers to his feet and looks away, but whatever he was holding or looking at is gone. When he looks back at Wei Wuxian, there’s an awestruck look of recognition on his face. Wei Wuxian grins, pleased to see that his influence has reached the ears of humans.

The man takes one shaky step forward. He seems to be trying to drink in Wei Wuxian’s presence, soak him in just by looking at him. Wei Wuxian can’t blame him. He is very impressive.

On that thought, Wei Wuxian spreads his arms wide. “Never fear, mortal! Your hour of distress has come to an end!” Above their heads, a cloud drifts away and allows the moon to beam through, bathing Wei Wuxian with soft light. “It is I, Wei Wuxian, your fairy godmother!”

Now his client is just staring at him blankly. Wei Wuxian’s grin falters. He lowers his arms and clears his throat. “Perhaps you didn’t h–”

“What’s a fairy godmother?” The client interrupts.

Really?

Wei Wuxian sighs. “I am in charge of finding you a happy ending, in whatever form that may take,” he answers.

He waits another beat. This is usually where his clients start thanking him.

The man does not look very impressed. “How does that involve butterfly wings?”

“I–!” Wei Wuxian starts, very offended and very taken aback. “I…thought they would be less threatening than crow wings?”

The man stares at him. Wei Wuxian vanishes the wings with a thought.

“Well, if you have a preference, just let me know,” Wei Wuxian grumbles sulkily. “I am at your service, after all.”

“That is unnecessary,” the man says flatly. The tears haven’t dried but he’s composed himself. He turns away from Wei Wuxian deliberately.

“What do you mean?” Wei Wuxian asks, chasing his client through the clearing when the cultivator starts to walk away.

“I am not in need of your help,” the ungrateful bastard says.

“Wh–! Yes, you are!” Wei Wuxian argues. “I wouldn’t be here if there weren’t a worthy damsel in distress in need of my services.”

At that term damsel in distress the man turns and gives him a withering, wintry glare. It’s under-cut by a deep well of loss, pain, and sadness that Wei Wuxian is convinced he can see on his client’s face. And to the rejection of damsel of distress, he can only shrug. It’s true.

“I’ll have you know I am the top fairy godmother,” Wei Wuxian says, in reply to the glare, as pretentiously as he can. “For the past hundred years. I have never failed a client. Whatever it is you want, true love, honor, treasure, a kingdom, I can find it for you. I promise you I have seen it all before.”

His client finally stops running away from him. Wei Wuxian saunters up to him. “If it’s love you’re worrying about, people are less narrow-minded than you think. There’s bound to be someone out there who’s exactly who you’re looking for. Well, most of them. Actually, my clients are sometimes a little narrow-minded. One of them specifically requested that I find a true love for him that had never been turned into an animal. A little narrow-minded, don’t you think?”

At this point, Wei Wuxian is up in his face, and his client is starting to look a little overwhelmed. Wei Wuxian backs up, gives him a little space. The Lan cultivator turns to look at the spot in the clearing where he’d been kneeling before Wei Wuxian showed up.

“Can you bring back the dead?” His client asks abruptly.

Wei Wuxian falters. “That’s–ehhh, that’s a, uh, gray area. Kind of depends. I’m going to lean towards no. Yeah, feels like a no. No necromancy here. I have definitely never done that before.”

The righteous Lan cultivator actually has the nerve to look disappointed in him. “Then I have no use for you,” he says stiffly, and starts to walk away again.

“Okay, hold up!” Wei Wuxian splutters, hurrying after him. The man does not hold up, forcing Wei Wuxian to keep pace through the dark forest. It’s no problem for Wei Wuxian, but rather rude, all things considered. “How rude! Here I am offering to solve your life’s problems and you question my abilities–you know I once created a whole celestial mountain for one of my clients–hey! Think of my reputation,” he begs, when his rude client continues to walk away. “I have never, ever failed a client before. Think of how it would look if one of my clients just walked away! Just give me a chance. Please. Please?”

His runaway client finally stops running away, right in a thicket of trees. Wei Wuxian almost bumps into him.

“This is important to you?” His client asks finally, without looking back.

“Oh yes, very,” Wei Wuxian knows immediately, because that’s the thing about his clients. They’re all good people, whether they’d like to admit it or not. The only people who like to help more than them are the fairy godmothers. “It would make me very happy to make you happy.”

The man’s shoulders relax ever-so slightly. “Very well.”

“Yes!” Wei Wuxian fist-pumps. He glances up at the moon, reminding himself that humans have to do things like eat and sleep. “Okay, first things first, I’ll get you home,” he decides. “Tomorrow we can–”

“I have no home,” his new client interrupts in a dispassionate tone that suggests this subject has one too many emotions for him to handle.

Wei Wuxian raises an eyebrow internally and thinks of his Lan clan ribbon, but says nothing. He merely mentally files this client into the hundreds of lost-their-home clients that have come before him. There’s no telling why his new client lost his home. Usually they tell Wei Wuxian about their woes willingly, without Wei Wuxian having to beg them to burden him with their problems. But there’s a whole host of solutions to the no-home problem, exactly none of which Wei Wuxian can think of when the man reaches up and pulls his forehead ribbon off with trembling fingers.

“Um,” Wei Wuxian warbles. He averts his eyes from the now bare forehead. Later he’ll chalk it up to the difficulty in acquiring this client and the subsequent need to prove his powers that leads him to suggest: “W-what about my house?”

His client turns to face him. He looks a little shocked, but mostly confused.

“I live in the heavenly Lotus Pier,” Wei Wuxian says grandly. Well, he tries to say it grandly, but it comes out matter-of-fact. “I’ve got plenty of room. And you needn’t worry about politics up there.”

Slowly, his client nods, his face unreadable.

“Great,” Wei Wuxian says brightly. He reaches for his client’s hand, ignores the scandalized look he receives, and vanishes both of them to Lotus Pier.

They appear in a pavilion at the end of one of the many boardwalks. Enormous pastel lotus flowers dot the still waters. In the distance, the still waters cascade into a roaring waterfall that pours off the edge of the heavens. Above them, the sun is setting. Wei Wuxian’s client is winded from the sudden travel, so Wei Wuxian doesn’t let go of his hand. The scent of fresh water and spice sets in.

When the client steadies himself, Wei Wuxian tugs him out of the pavilion. The human’s eyes widen as the halls of Lotus Pier come into view, and Wei Wuxian smirks to himself. That’s the only reason why he’s sad that humans don’t come to Lotus Pier. He’d love a chance to show off his home more.

His client is still trying to take in the magnificent sloping roofs, the purple clouds and the dusk orange sky, when Wei Wuxian urges him into a walk.

“Come on,” Wei Wuxian says, still smiling widely. “We’ll be late for dinner.”