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rcksmith · 4 years ago

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Spring breeze part.2 — Spencer Reid

Gif by @ssadrreid

Sumarry: Spencer never thought about falling in love with someone, but he certainly didn't expect that he would fall in love with Gideon's daughter. — season 3 —

Part.1 Part.3 Part.4

A/N: I was very happy with the return you guys had in the first part💖. I hope you guys like.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️ Couple:Spencer Reid / Gideon's daughter!reader.

Warnings: nothing, just very fluff.

— — — — —

Spencer straightened his tie for the hundredth time in front of the mirror, in several unsuccessful attempts to exhibit his best that day. It was funny and ironic how, after so many years wearing dress shirts and a tie, the universe seemed to handpick that day to do - no matter how much Spencer tried to fix it - his tie looked weird. The fabric was too far to the left, or too far to the right, or too wrinkled in the folds. No matter how much he undid the knot or changed his tie, still looked strange.

What a nightmare.

Reid was barely able to sleep with the notion that he would see you today, his body being whipped assiduously by unsettling waves of euphoria, his mind whizzing like a propellant, anxiety screaming in his mind and sending his sleep for miles away. That morning, the world seemed to be more stuffy, hot and torrid, and for a second, Reid felt himself under the heat of Egypt instead of autumn in Washington.

He could feel his heart speeding up with the steps of the clocks, his breath running away from his lungs, a thousand and one speeches being revised in his head to try to lessen the likelihood of speaking some bullshit near you. Because he couldn't ruin that chance.

Spencer knew he was not the type of guy to have dates whit women like you every day. In fact, Laila had been the only stunning woman who had looked at him a second time. But, well, to be honest, he knew that all that affection she had directed him had been side effects of the transfer. He had been her hero and it clouded people's rationality. And, to his disquiet and to the dread of his insecurity, you were above the beauty of Laila on stratospheric levels.

To make matters worse, the damn tie wasn't good! God, he was screwed.

Spencer gave up on that impossible mission, settling for and conforming to what the tie looked like after the twentieth attempt. He wanted you to see him as a handsome person, a man worth wasting time with, not a boy who only served to be your friend. You were beautiful on so many levels that... well, Reid wanted you to be attracted to him, too, to simplify.

He stepped away from the mirror and slung his work bag over his shoulder, trying to control the pounding of his own heart.

On the way to work, trying hard to avoid thinking about what him looked like in that damned imperfect tie, Reid wondered, for a moment, if you too were under the same emotions. Did you change your clothes several times because you also felt anxious too? Could it be that, like him hands, yours also trembled? Or, if he was lucky, was your heart beating as hard as him?

He hoped that was yes.

As soon as he entered the BAU headquarters, with anxiety as his chaperone, Spencer sat at his own table while pouring a “Good morning” to his colleagues.

“Arrived early.” Derek narrowed his eyes at him, in that suspicious look.

"I am never late." He was quick to hit and that caused his friend to raise an eyebrow.

"But you never be anxious to get here earlier."

Sometimes Spencer hated that his friends were profiles.

“I just like my job.” Reid started to unpack things of bag, trying to avoid the look of Derek who was still burning his back.

“Oh, I'm sure you like.” The double meaning in his friend's tone did not go unnoticed by Spencer, but he did not want to delve into the truths of that argument, much less think about it.

Emily and JJ arrived after a few minutes, with Garcia following behind and making their point that she was not to blame for buying those pairs of shoes, since they were practically begging her to take them. Normally, Reid did not look at the glass door whenever he heard someone approaching, or had a strong desire to see Gideon pass through them as well.

But that day... that day, seeing Gideon meant seeing you. And seeing you meant that you would go through that door. And going through that door meant that Spencer would see you come in. That was enough to make his gaze turn to those doors from minute to minute.

But time passed. Fifteen minutes flew by, then twenty, then thirty. Anxiety increased and now his agitated heart was tuned to his right leg, which did not stop quietly, shaking from top to bottom assiduously.

“What do you look for at the door so much, Reid?”

Prentiss asked the last question that Reid would like to answer, and that caught Derek’s attention, who, as expected, laughed amusingly and sank further into the chair, a sly, playful smile on his lips.

“Oh, he is expecting a member of the Gideon family.”

Spencer swore and, in that moment, he was never so jealous of ostriches for being able to stick their heads underground. If he were one of them, he would definitely do it.

“I'm not expecting Y/n.” he said, whit voice higher and thin than usual.

“But I didn't say it was Y/n.” Derek laughed and Spencer felt his cheeks go red.

This time he gave up hitting back, his let out a bad mood murmur and turned forward, forcing himself not to look at the door anymore. From that moment on, Spencer focused on focusing on the pile of reports in front of him, forcing his brain to disconnect from the things around him and concentrate on matters that demand his all attention.

The hours went by, faster this time, the case-free day was being used to finish late reports and giving the team time to recover the nerves and breath of the last case.

After noon, Gideon still hadn't arrived and Spencer started to feel slightly fearful. He was about to take his phone out of his pocket and dial Jason when JJ appeared, handing over more piles of reports to they that required to be finished today.

Derek gave a loud curse of annoyance, muttering something and back to writing again. Emily was used to the paperwork bureaucracy, but from the bittersweet and dissatisfied look on her face, Spencer knew that no one there shared the same delight him had with paperwork. He also knew that Morgan was exhausted because he had remodeled a property yesterday and was barely could to sleep, and Prentiss felt overwhelmed because she was dealing with problems with her mother and with the bureaucracy policy that Strauss pressed against her.

Then Spencer looked at the file stack itself. There was a lot of paperwork, but the amount of reports he would finish in two minutes was three times what his friends would finish in an hour. He leaned forward, looking over the table to see Emily and focusing Derek better in his field of vision.

“Do you guys want to give some reports? I finish faster anyway”

They agreed without hesitating or pretending modesty. Reid laughed, saying that his friends would owe him one, and went back to work.

After that, when Spencer finished the reports and lifted his head from the paperwork, the light in the world had dimmed to a dark blue hue, streaked by small, bright stars.

The breeze coming in through the large glass windows was fresh and invigorating, the scent of the night's wonderful promises was reminiscent of your perfume. And then he realized that neither you nor Gideon showed up all day. Something about him withered, the euphoria diminished until it became as small as the stars outside. The clock struck seven at night when Spencer got up and put his things away, millions of feelings buzzing in chest.

The unsettling sense of concern began to take place than had previously to been emotions of anxiety and excitement, and he pondered whether to ask Hotch about Gideon or to call himself. Reid looked around, looking under his colleagues, who were packing up to go home, and going up to Aaron's office. He could still see his figure under the marble table, the light from the room underscoring the serious and concentrated expression he directed to the documents. The air in that room looked different, maybe more dense, maybe more serious. But Spencer knew it was best to let Hotch do his own thing.

He ran the tip of his tongue over the corner of lips, reaching into his pocket and reaching for his cell phone.

“Hey, Reid." he turned toward Morgan, that signaled them to go to the elevator.

“Did you speak to Gideon today? Or did you hear Hotch say something about it?” The question came after he reached Derek, both of them walking out the glass door.

"Is it Gideon you're worried about or... his daughter?” He laughs shamelessly, pressing the elevator button.

Spencer stumbles over the words when says: “Wh-What? No. I'm just worried about him. It has nothing to do with… ”

As soon as the sentence was about to end, the elevator doors open. Instead of the usual void or presence of someone from the FBI, Spencer felt catatonic when he saw the female figure inside.

You.

In a burst, like a strong wind that blows and pushes things away, Spencer was struck by all the feelings and sensations that had been bubbling in his stomach all day. Euphoria, anxiety, insecurity and... animation. Suddenly, he was worried again about how he would look, what he would say, if he was presentable enough for you to look at him with... Well, Spencer didn't know how he wanted you to look at him, but he wished it were something that guarantee your affection.

He wanted to be something that excited you, that made your heart race. Just like his was now.

"Y/n...” He did not recognize his own voice. The intonation.

"Hey." You smiled genuinely, and it was able to make Reid's heart beat so fast that he feared you could hear. “I'm sorry I didn't show up and neither did my dad.”

“No problem at all.” He was sincere “Did something happen? Are you two okay? ”

The concern in Reid's voice was so palpable that you losing your breath. God, that man couldn't be real.

“I just remembered that Garcia is call me." Morgan tried to swallow a big smile “It was good to see you, Y/n.”

“Me too, Morgan.” You gave him a hand gesture that, for Reid, was lovely.

Spencer put his arm in the elevator door, preventing it from closing.

“Will you want to leave?” Always as solicitous as a gentleman.

“Oh no.” Now it was your cheeks that were softly red. “I came to see you actually.”

If nothing that had happened before was not enough to steal Spencer's breath, your sentence completed the mission. He put himself in an elevator, pressing a button and letting the doors close.

"I was going to bring my dad today, but ... well” You laughed “To put it succinctly, my dad has a list of things he wants to do before he dies, and one of them was rollerblading”

You and Spencer laughed. Half because he would have laughed at anything you said to see your smile, and half because he couldn't see Gideon having such a list. But he liked it. The feeling of knowing that Jason was having fun, enjoying life, not letting that job rip off all of his humanity, was comforting, joyful.

“Why do I feel this is not going to end well?" He joked too and you laughed.

“Because it doesn't end.” Your fingers ran through your hair “We ended up going to a place that had this, before he have work today, and he ended up twisting his ankle when he fell.”

You tried to no laught, because it was not something to play with, but after the fright passed and your father and you were entangled, they both burst out laughing. And now, reliving that, you didn't remember the hurt itself, but how great the fun between the two of you had been.

“He is fine?" But Spencer had a worried flash in his eyes.

“Oh, yes, the doctor said there was nothing much. He just needs to get some rest.” You smiled “I was going to call, but one thing led to another and when I saw it, it was too late to call. So I thought about coming in person.”

Spencer was known to have a photographic memory and a very high IQ, but at that moment, if then asked what you had just said, he would need a moment to remember. For the only thing he was concentrating on at that moment was the certainty that your smile could light up the whole of Washington. How your eyes held the stars' syntax and how the energy that emanated from you was... cheerful.

He realized that you were a cheerful person, outgoing and with an innate ease of making friends. You had that special touch that made people and the universe orbit around you. And Spencer knew it was one of the planets captured by your gravity.

"It is very sweet of you to come here to tell me that.” He smiled, but then realized what he had just said “N-not that you owe me any explanation! I just-I think it's cool that you worried and…n-not that I waited for you but… not th-that I didn't expect you too and...” Spencer stopped talking, giving up trying to find the right words to get him out of the mess he got himself into.

At times like this, Reid was used to people just dropping an embarrassed nod and leaving, or ignoring the avalanche of things he said. But as soon as the tone of your laughter echoed through the elevator and snaked through him body like a wave of energy, Reid looked at you more closely. You didn't give that embarrassed look, nor did you look sorry for him. You laughed lovingly and touched his arm.

"I was also looking forward to seeing you.” You summed up all of him thoughts in one sentence and freed him from all fears.

"Serious?" But disbelief was still present.

The elevator door opened and the two of you got out, walking to the exit of the building and being greeted by the cool, comforting breeze of the night.

“Yea.” You said as if it were obvious, “What do you think about going to a movie? It's not too late. ”

If Spencer had been told a few weeks ago that in a few days he would be on a date with the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, he would have scoffed. He would have thought it was a joke with a background of evil. Going out with girls was not on the list of things Spencer did regularly, but he was thanking any confusion or mistake the Universe had made to accidentally placed you with him.

To be honest, with you on his side, with you with him, Spencer felt like he had won in life. That all those years of school and university, when he only saw beautiful girls from afar and dreamed of what it would be like to have one this girls interest in him, had dissipated into the air. Dissolved in the breeze like smoke. During all the hours of film, the joyful and ecstatic conversations you both had after, Spencer could feel the connection in the air. Naturally, kind of magical.

Did he know you two days or two decades ago?

You told all of your adventures, all of stories, and listened carefully to every ramble and phrase Reid had to say. He felt, for the first time, completely important. As if everything he had to say was valuable as a diamond, rare as a tropical treasure.

He felt comfortable, relaxed, cheerful.

And when, at the end of the night while the two of you were walking along the lively and vibrant streets of DC, you took his hand and intertwined yours fingers, Spencer never felt so alive.

He had been born twenty-four years, but only now did he really feel what it was like to be alive.

tagged: @gublersuvula @peculiarinsomniac

#spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid #dr.spencer reid x reader #dr. spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds fluff #derek morgan #spencer x reader #spencer x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #mgg imagine #mgg fluff #mathew gray gubler #mgg x reader

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helion-ism · 4 years ago

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let’s talk about elucien

there are so many reasons why I love elain x lucien and why I think these two would not only be amazing together, but also why they belong together. one of those reasons is lucien’s sassy personality, which we already got a glimpse of in acotar (and that I miss terribly btw), and which is, in my opinion, exactly what elain needs in her life. we’re talking about lucien “your eyes are like stars, and your hair like burnished gold” vanserra. we know he’s got quite a big mouth, that’s how we got to know him, but we also know that mouth is exactly what’s gotten him into trouble before. case in point: the eye incident. lucien doesn’t mince his words and yes, that is one of the reasons why elain really needs to spend some more time with him.

she has been coddled by not only her father, nesta, feyre, but also the entire inner circle, which has allowed her to live her life passively. yes, she killed the king of hybern, and good for her, but she did it because nobody else could have done it at that point in time. ever since the war ended, elain has not actively contributed to any plot matters, whether by choice or because someone else took the choice from her. azriel said in acosf, “there is an innate darkness to the dread trove that elain should not be exposed to.” even amren pointed out that elain is capable of defending herself, but for some reason, nobody let her even though elain said she would try to find it: “then I will find it. I might require some time to … reacquaint myself with my powers, but I could start today.” and yet, by the end of the book, elain’s been barely in it and has not contributed at all. (I know some people claim there’s certain things already happening in the background, but honestly, I’m not satisfied with that development happening off page, so I can’t wait to finally go on her journey and actually see her do stuff)

this moment is crucial:

does it look like she is happy with the way the others treat her? not really. when nesta snapped at her, elain started laughing. that signals relief to me because nesta, the one who has always tried to protect elain the most (nesta baby Ilysm), is the one who suddenly lost her patience. elain needs somebody like lucien, somebody with a big mouth and sassy attitude, who can coax her out of that paralysis she’s been stuck in, a bit like nesta in this scene. additionally, the banter would be top tier. I want another “if I offer you the moon on a string, will you give me a kiss, too?” moment, please. god please. (elain blinks. “and where would you like that kiss?” — and lucien just loses his mind.)

another thing that lives in my head rent free is the fact that lucien has travelled almost everywhere and could introduce elain, who wishes to see more of the world (see: “elain had always wanted to visit the continent to study the tulips and other famed flowers”), to the different courts and the continent. I refuse to accept that we will not get to learn more about the other courts, for my sake, but also for elain’s sake. I want her to see the spring court at least once. I want her to go and see those tulips she’s dreamt of. I want her and lucien to discover the day court as a new home, which brings me to the next point.

elain has been craving sunshine for some time now. there’s several quotes that emphasise her connection to sunshine/light, here are a few of my favourites:

I marveled at it, actually — that those years of poverty hadn‘t stripped away that light from elain.

the suite was filled with sunlight. every curtain shoved back as far as it could go, to let in as much sun as possible. as if any bit of darkness was abhorrent.

she had been always so full of light. perhaps that was why she now kept all the curtains open. to fill the void that existed where all of that light had once been. and now nothing remained.

what can I get you, elain? — sunshine.

elain doesn’t belong into the night court. feyre has found her family there, with rhys and the inner circle. nesta has found (or should I say accepted) cassian and found gwyn and emerie, her chosen sisters. but elain?

elain is somewhere in the background hiding with the twins and tending to gardens of the citizens of velaris. you can’t tell me that is satisfactory to you. she is currently ignoring her seer abilities, and the members of the inner circle are basically encouraging her to do so. the only time she’s been confronted lately was during that conversation with nesta and her reaction was not exactly what any of us readers would have expected, was it? that tells me there’s much more about her we don’t know yet, and I’m convinced we won’t know until she finally leaves and finds her own people, finds herself again and start dealing with everything that happened to her. elain must leave the night court, i.e. the darkness, behind in order to grow.

the same goes to lucien: he’s not at a place where he can just jump into a relationship or mating bond. he’s got so much stuff going on. lucien was forced to abandon his home and his abusive family, his “father” killed the fae he loved in front of his eyes, his best friend is an abusive pos who never appreciated him anyway, and neither has anyone in the night court. lucien is used because of his connections and because of the mating bond that ties him to elain, whether he wanted it or not. feyre knows he would never turn away from elain unless she explicitly wishes him to, and so she and rhys and the others use that to their advantage. it is smart, of course, but at the same time, they also keep important information about his own life from him that could change many, many things. so he’s spending his time with mortals in the human lands — a place where he as a fae really does not belong.

lucien being the heir to the day court, well, to me, it feels like sjm is practically screaming it into our face: how could he find a home in the night court, the literal opposite to the day? darkness vs. light. and what about elain “he’d never once in the two years he’d known her found elain to be plain, but wearing black, no matter how much she claimed to be part of this court … it sucked the life from her” archeron? just looking at the symbolism, not only do the quotes from above indicate that the night court cannot possibly be her home, but also very recent quotes from the latest book. elain is a side character in the night court. and so is lucien. they both need to leave in order to become main characters — and it doesn’t even matter that both are already crucial to the further plot of the series because how can they possibly contribute to it in a place where they are both kept down?

mor said in acofas: “stay out of it. she’s not ready, and neither is he, no matter how many presents he brings.” and “let him figure out where he wants to be. who he wants to be. the same goes with her.” mor’s power is “truth”, whatever that means. but there you have it. they’re not ready to be with each other yet, and that’s okay.

[elain and lucien are also connected not only because of the mating bond, but also because of the plot. lucien must know quite a lot about her and her sisters simply because of all the time he spent with their father. the father who made a bargain with koschei. koschei who put a spell on vassa. lucien is therefore tied to both papa archeron as well as koschei and vassa. elain, we know, is a seer, despite her not using her abilities (or is she, and we simply don’t know?). elain is (obviously) connected to her father, but also to koschei and vassa (remember those visions she had).]

now let’s get to the mating bond stuff, and I need to say this loud and clear: elain has always had and will always have one (1) true mate. there’s no such thing as “false mate” or even multiple mates. there has been no indication whatsoever. lucien is the mate the cauldron had given her when she was born. and elain is the mate the cauldron had given him when he was born. even when she was still human, they already belonged together — tied together by strings of fate. absolutely nothing will change this fact. should elain reject the bond, lucien will remain a part of her life/her soul forever. should lucien reject the bond, elain will remain a part of his life/his soul forever.

when she was still human, lucien had already felt a pull between them and tried to save and protect her from hybern. when elain was already fae, when it came to protecting her, azriel clapped cassian’s shoulder and left (is this the true mate they’re all talking about?). it’s unfair to lucien, elain, AND azriel and this comparison alone is enough to disprove this theory.

the thing is, lucien has been nothing but respectful, kind and caring towards elain. when he arrived in velaris in acowar, he could immediately sense what she needed and said, “she needs fresh air” (vs. the response “we’ll judge what she needs”) and “take her to the sea. take her to some garden. but get her out of this house for an hour or two.” (I’m gonna make another post about this because I have a few thoughts on this)

of course, she doesn’t owe him anything, but elain herself doesn’t wish to be treated like a child, she maybe she should start acting like an adult because although she doesn’t owe lucien an apology or explanation, she has to have a conversation with him, like two responsible adults. there is no way feyre or anyone in the inner circle hasn’t told her that she can reject the bond and move on with her life. but just like her powers, this is another thing she chooses to ignore. I’m not blaming her because I know she has to work through her trauma first and heal, but by the end of the series, she has to acknowledge that at least.

in acosf, elain says “I am not a child to be fought over” when they discuss the dread trove. I wonder what she would say about the fact azriel threatens to challenge lucien to the blood duel because of her? based on literally everything we know about lucien, I can say with certainty that he would not physically fight over elain. if she only had a conversation with him and told him to move on and leave her alone, lucien would do just that. he would leave her alone and try to move on as best as he could (which we know is difficult for males). but he would never act as entitled to her as to demand a blood duel and fight to death. it goes against his principles.

to finish this off, sjm summing up everything I just said:

#elucien #mating bond #mp

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aphrodite-would-be-proud · 4 years ago

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🕯Anon said: hi sweetheart 🕊 can you write about armin having a quiet night with the reader? something like wearing comfy pajamas, fairy lights, cute little candles, incense, soft songs and maybe some reading? and they just cuddling? 🥺 i think about that whenever i go to sleep and do all of the above, but i'm just by myself lmao anyways, thank you so much 🌸 (btw i'm the anon who asked you about the armin x painter!reader 🥺 hello 🥺 i just love how you write can we be friends please) 🕯

Quiet night with Armin

{ Armin x Reader | tw:none | sleep help, comfort, fluff | modern }

{ "Twilight, Valley of the Genesee" 1865 by Samuel Colman 1832 - 1920 }

Shimmering golden hues weaved across pastel blue walls in the form of strings, crossing the bookshelf before making a turn at the plants corner, illuminating the room with a soft warm glow.

Your head rested against the satin pillow, just right above Armin's shoulder, close enough that you can see the rise and fall of his chest with every breath. The ends of his hair ghosting over your cheek whenever he leaned to tell a particular clever line of the book he's been reading to you.

You can't exactly remember the name of it, but you can clearly recall his excited smile this morning when showing it to you.

"It's one of my favourites" he said, "the last time i got to reread it was in high-school, has it really been that long?" And that's all you can remember from the conversation before it got sidetracked by him asking if you had lunch yet.

There's definitely something to be said about rereading a book over and over again, a sense of familiarity, an attachment to the characters, plot and world setting. It's almost magic how quickly your comfort book, show or movie can turn a horrible day into a nice one, making it the silver lining.

Looking at the way Armin would pause for a second after some lines, or chuckle at random scenes, like it's an inside joke between him and his mind, you can tell he's definitely recalling some good memories.

Just like how he's adding to his list of comfort memories by sharing this experience with you, he wants you to be a part of this silly book he once picked up as a child and continued to revisit every few years.

You glance at the remaining pages, just as he flips another one to start anew. You've already finished a third of the book, only a quarter remaining.

It's not that you're getting impatient, but it's more that the soft blanket draped over you, the warmth of Armin's body pressed next to yours and the sound of his voice, are all luring you into a hazy cloudy state where your eyelids feel too heavy and turning your head to check the clock seems too exhausting.

How long has it been? since you curled up against him right after you went to put your empty hot chocolate mugs in the sink.

You don't have the heart to tell him that your brain stopped registering the words he's saying and instead listens to the tone of his soft-spoken voice and reacts accordingly. Stealing another glance at the remaining pages, you notice a few missing, okay good, just a few more. You can hold on right?

Right?

Forcing your eyes open, you suppress a yawn threatening to rise before curling even closer to his shoulder, face against his neck, hand over his chest.

Instead of focusing on his calming heartbeat, you try to focus your attention on different things, like the smell of snowdrops flowers filling the room from the scented incense sitting on the nightstand.

Snowdrops, the milky bell-like flowers who befriended the cold harsh snow herself.

An ancient German tale that Armin told you, on one early spring morning. When the universe was just in bloom, as the earth shaped its form and the plants dressed themselves, when the god in the heavens above just created snow, she was told to go seek her colours from the flowers below.

She came with her request, but the flowers turned their heads, refusing to acknowledge her for she is the reason for the harsh weather, deeming their life spans short, overzealous and jealous, protecting their colours from the merciless lady snow.

She was left all alone, friendliness, colourless with no love or sympathy from a soul.

Except for one, came knocking on her door, head bowed down and humbly offered to share. Snowdrops were the flowers that warmed the snow's heart, and so white was the colour in which snow was known.

Snow made a vow, to always protect her one and only friend, even from her own self. Under her watchful gaze, snowdrops were gifted with warmth that let them be the first flowers to bloom when winter bid her goodbyes as spring was arriving soon.

You've never seen snowdrops the same since, their delicate and shy nature standing out between all the proud flowers, you even suggested planting some to Armin.

"...but sweetheart" you remember him saying with a frown, " snowdrops are poisonous."

…

Yeah, and so getting their scented incense was the second best option available.

You hear the sound of another page being turned, fewer left to go, just hold on a bit longer.

Wondering the room with your eyes, your gaze fell on the straw sunhat hanging from the on the back of a chair. It's Armin's favourite, he'd always wear it when the sun was particularly bright that day.

you remember him saying it was a gift from his grandpa when he was a child.

His grandpa...didn't you visit his farm a few months ago?

...yeah you did, you can recall clearly, how you were:

Squinting your eyes to avoid the bright sun, you wiped the sweat collecting on your forehead before leaning your head back against the wooden wall. The occasional passing cool breeze distracting you from the dryness in your throat, even after moving to sit in the shade your skin still felt too hot.

The grassy fields in front stretched wide before ending in white pained fences, where the crops patches for vegetables started.

The sudden gentle waves of cool air against your skin made you glance to the side, where Armin was fanning you with his hat, while holding a tray with two ice filled lemonades in his other hand.

"Are you sure you don't want to go inside?" He said, sitting next to you before handing you the cold drink, "you've already done a lot, I'll do take care of the rest."

You've been helping Armin with the farm work since sunrise, feeding the animals together and watering the crops, saying you're exhausted from the scorching hot sun was an underestimation.

And yet, somehow Armin seems unaffected. Not a sign of being bothered as he sat there next to you with his rolled up sleeves and cuffed pants, the slight flushing to his face was the only thing he got from the sun.

"Yeah, I need to lay down a bit." You remember saying, after emptying your drink in one go.

"If that's the case then-" setting the tray aside, Armin patted his lap while looking at you, "Come here."

Too tired to protest, you layed your head on his thigh, feeling your back stretching and the cool air from his fanning was already making you feel better.

"You know, there's a story my grandpa used to tell me about the sun."

An Australian folklore, about a time when the earth was merged in absolute Darkness, when even the stars refused to light up the sky.

Eternal darkness was the fate of humanity, as people were spent their lives carrying torches to light up their way.

Gnowee was an alone mother in a forsaken world, left to fend for her little son. Each day while he slept safely, she'd venture into the the fields in search for plants or seeds. Knowing very well that's it's a matter of life and death if she couldn't come back with something edible.

Each day she'd come with whatever she could find, feeding it to her son even if it meant sleeping on an empty stomach.

But with food scarce and the abyss looming at every corner, things were harder each day.

One day after rocking her child to sleep, she quietly left with her torch to dig for yams she saw on her way last time. Retracting her footsteps, it was a long journey but she knew it'd be worth it.

And so she walked and walked till she reached the place, began digging the ground but dirt and mud was all that she could find. But she couldn't just go back to her son empty handed, and so she wandered far.

She wandered so far in fact that she reached the end, not the end of her journey but the end of the earth itself.

Somehow, in someway she managed to pass from under it, her will for her son to live another day far greater that anything, and so she emerged from the other side.

The void.

Where nothingness lived.

Looking at the vast empty space, she didn't know where she was, the line between the ground and walls was so blurred that she thought she's floating.

Panic and dread filled her mind as she raised her torch higher and higher, attempting to clear a path for her to see. For she had to go back to her son, all alone sleeping by himself.

Climbing the sky was her only solution, as she wondered the world, unknowingly lighting up a path with her as she went.

"And so the Sun Goddess wonders the sky above, in search for her son." Armin told you that day, before offering you his own lemonade to drink because he was still worried about you.

...

You can't recall how that day ended, you think you might have fell asleep on his lap right after.

The fairylights on the wall reminded you of the clear stars sky you've seen while on the farm, his grandfather was a really sweet guy too.

With your mind still coulded in drowsiness, your hearing was also delayed apparently, since you just noticed the book in Armin's hold was closed with him staring at you with a smile instead.

Moving so he could set the book on the nightstand, Armin turned towards you before pulling you closer to him, making sure the covers don't slip off of you. He cupped your face, stroking your cheek with love in his eyes.

"I'm sorry baby, did I take too long?" He said, glancing at the clock behind you answered his question.

You shook your head, murmuring a slurred "it's alright."

Posture visibly relaxing, he gave your cheek a small kiss before resting too on the pillow next to you, a yawn escaping him.

With half closed eyes, you saw him cuddling close to your chest, features softening as he bid you goodnight. Your hand moved to stroke his hair just like he always liked, lacing your fingers through the soft strands you closed your eyes too.

Warmth took over you, the feeling of his soft breath near your neck, the comfortable weight of his arms around you, the slow ticking of the clock, it all rocked you to sleep as you happily gave in.

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unjourjeseraideretourpresdetoi · 4 years ago

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9/10 Chapter 1 - Malt

I started writing a bit of a Harry/Kim fanfic??? Because why the hell not. Anyway, here’s the first part of it. I’m kind of just making it up as I go with a few specific ideas scattered in my head. Spoilers for various plot points. Here’s a sample before the cut. Feel free to send any suggestions or critique, since it’s been ages since I have done much writing. Still working on getting a feel for Harry’s skill voices.

YOU — After a little while, your voice finally returns. “Why are you so nice to me?” KIM KITSURAGI — He takes a long pause and leans back in his chair. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just stubborn too.” PERCEPTION — You turn to look at him as you finally untangle yourself from your chrysalis of arms, and he looks different somehow. You don’t know if it’s your eyes being sore as hell, or the dull ambiance of the hazy bar lights. Somehow, he looks so light. His bomber jacket is slightly pulled up by his folded arms behind his head, seeming to break the bulky illusion it usually projects over his slim torso. Like suddenly seeing a gap in a suit of armor. SUGGESTION — You should tickle him. ESPRIT DE CORPS — He will kill you in mere seconds if you do that.

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN — Hello again, Harry boy. The midnight train to Fuck-All-Borough is boarding once again, and you’ve pre-paid your seat. YOU — Okay. ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN — Yes, that’s right. Let’s drive right into the sweet, succulent sopor of oblivion. Let no feelings come to pass, no sensations, just the pure bliss of the radiating void. YOU — But aren’t you here? ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN — That’s just it, Harry. I’m nothing. I am the pale of the mind, I am the deafening silence, I am the black canvas that stretches taut when you close your eyes. I am the swaddle that cradles the mind and the ocean you will drown in. I am born of you and someday, you will die in me. LIMBIC SYSTEM — But not yet—something still stirs in this weighted sack. Something heavy, and sore, and full of noise that steadily rises into a crescendo.

PERCEPTION — And then you open your eyes. And it fucking hurts. PAIN THRESHOLD — Dear god, it’s like a jackhammer on a pogo stick on another jackhammer. PERCEPTION — You realize there’s a smell you haven’t smelled in a few weeks now that’s uncomfortably emanating from your form. Al Gul. COMPOSURE — Oh. You finally did it again. You fucked up.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — So we got a little smashed. Who cares. You know what’s a great way to stop feeling sorry about it? Getting smashed again. AUTHORITY — No. YOU — Why am I always fucking things up? HALF LIGHT — Because life is terrifying. LOGIC — He’s right about that one.

YOU — What was I doing last night? ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Like I said, getting smashed. CONCEPTUALIZATION — Painting the world with a palette of sugary booze and sad, old rock and roll for sad, old rockstars.

YOU — Who did I hurt this time? DRAMA — Mostly, just yourself. VOLITION — A small miracle, if so. You’re used to self-immolation. YOU — But why? Why now? We were doing better. ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Speak for yourself. LOGIC — You do know that you can’t just ride out two decades of practiced chemical drowning on a workhorse of piety and guilt, right?

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT — This ceaseless dependency on cocktails of narcotics and spirits has weakened you shamefully. PERCEPTION — You look around your dimly lit bedroom, eyes half-closed anyway to quiet the searing pain in your cerebral cortex, slowly putting the pieces back together as the rest of your body wakes up.

YOU — I was having a shitty day. I was stuck on a case and my mind just kept drifting into half-remembered past mistakes. After work, I decided to do it. I called her again, like an idiot. I thought to myself, I can do this, I can let her go, and I’ll tell her I’m finally over it (almost). INLAND EMPIRE — But that is not how it went. She had prepared for the next time you would call. The last time was terrifying enough, torn awake at 3 in the morning, listening to your desperate lies, digging through past trauma.

YOU — “Hey, uh, Dora. It’s Harry. I’m sorry—“ PERCEPTION — A sharp sigh breaks your concentration. DORA — “Let me stop you there, Harry. Because I’m tired of this. You’ve been doing this six years now but it feels at least twice as long. So since you can’t put an end to it, I am. Don’t call again. You won’t be reaching me at this number anymore.” PERCEPTION — Before you can react, there’s silence. And a dial tone. YOU — Fuck. Fuck shit fuck.

COMPOSURE — You stumble through dialing the number again, fingers slipping the first time from nerves and connecting the second, with no answer. You try again. And again. And then you stop trying. It takes everything in you not to smash the phone where it sits. PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT — You need to smash something. If we can’t smash the phone, we HAVE to smash something. REACTION SPEED — Your feet are already taking you away from the pay phone, one thought ahead of the rest of you. You barely round the corner into the alley before you plant your fist full force into the nearest brick wall. PAIN THRESHOLD — Your hand spirals into a fractal of pain, blood dripping down your busted knuckles, slowly running down the dirtied wall. You can feel the cracking of your knuckles, like a brittle lacework of glass strapped down only by the leather of your worn-out hands. HALF-LIGHT — Get out of here. ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Now that you’re done smashing your fist, it’s time to get the rest of you smashed. YOU — “Fuck it. I’m getting a drink.”

CONCEPTUALIZATION — From there, it was a blaze of sweet, hot fire down your throat and back up again, run ragged from shitty karaoke and mild alcohol poisoning. But the film reel is running thin, and you’re struggling to get anything else from your memory bank.

YOU — How did I get back? I don’t remember walking home. ESPRIT DE CORPS — You asked for help.

HAND-EYE COORDINATION — You pat at your pockets, searching for the right one, not quite remembering what you’re doing but knowing the answer you thought of for a fraction of a second is somewhere in there. After a moment, you find it, carefully tucked away but nevertheless damp with sweat from your slacks.

“If you need to talk— 005-93-88-651 Lt. Kitsuragi”

INTERFACING — Your hands are a bit shaky, but you dial out the number on the slip of paper in your hands. PERCEPTION — It rings once. Twice. A third time. And then you hear the receiver click. KIM KITSURAGI — “Hello?”

SHIVERS — In a small apartment in Central Jamrock, not too far from Precinct 41, and not too far from the Jamrock Public Library, Lieutenant Kitsuragi sits on his bed, some light reading in hand, winding down for the night. His new apartment is still filled with cardboard boxes here and there, in no particular hurry to be unpacked. The lights of the city pierce through like little pinpricks in the glare of his bedside window, still insistent on their presence even in the quiet of a cool spring night.

YOU — “Hi, Kim, I uh…” Your voice shakes and you lose your words for a moment, because some part of you really didn’t expect him to pick up. KIM KITSURAGI — “Detective? It’s after midnight.” DRAMA — It’s already that late? You must’ve woken him up. A bad start. YOU — “Uhh… sorry, I uh. Wasn’t looking at the clock. We can just talk tomorrow—“ KIM KITSURAGI — “You’re drunk.” COMPOSURE — Fuck. There’s nothing coming out of your mouth anymore. Another bad phone call. It takes everything in you not to cry. You do anyway.

KIM KITSURAGI — “Where are you?” YOU — You manage to croak out enough to say “Sunshine’s Hideaway. Bar on 12th street.” KIM KITSURAGI — He pauses a moment, thinking. “...I’ll be there in a few minutes.” ESPRIT DE CORPS — He’s thinking about the best route there. LOGIC — He doesn’t have his motor carriage right now. He’s going to have to walk it, and it’s cold out. YOU — “I… you don’t have to do that, I’ll just—“ KIM KITSURAGI — “Harrier, just shut up and park your ass somewhere warm until I get there.” AUTHORITY — He’s doing it! He’s doing the eyebrow thing but on the phone! I didn’t know he could do that! YOU — “Yessir.”

It probably takes about 15 minutes for him to arrive, though each minute feels like five. You feel like a child waiting for their parents to come pick them up at school. You’re pretty sure everyone is staring at you. You can’t really see through the blurry bokeh of your stupid tears. But you can just barely make out the door of the bar opening, followed by a silhouette marked by orange slipping through. Lieutenant Kitsuragi spots you after a moment, and you quickly try to wipe your eyes like you haven’t just been crying the whole time as he approaches. KIM KITSURAGI — You can hear him pull at the chair next to yours, calmly settling into place. “Hello, detective.”

YOU — You try to pull up some words, but you just find yourself nodding appreciatively as you try not to grimace. COMPOSURE — Somehow, the moment his eyes fall on you, you feel like someone just ripped the rug right out from under your feet. You slide down on your elbows, face pressing down onto the table in humiliation, locking your hands together on the back of your neck, like you’re trying to hide in a little tomb of your own arms.

KIM KITSURAGI — You hear the lieutenant take a deep breath and sigh. He unzips his jacket, stifling him in the warm interior of the bar. “That rough, huh?”

YOU — You don’t want to say anything, but your mouth opens before you can stop it. “I’m such an asshole, Kim. I keep fucking everything up, over and over, no matter how hard I try. I just. Keep falling back into my bullshit.” Your voice shakes as you get the words out. “Is this just as good as it’s gonna get at this point? Have I fucked up entirely too much, entirely too long, am I just… this constant trainwreck now and forever? How much of myself have I wasted away into nothing, doing this shit? Acting like a child. Acting like an animal. It feels sometimes like all I have is more downturns. More hurting people. More hurting myself. And I’m so, so fucking tired… and I don’t wanna do this anymore. If this is how it is, I don’t want to… be.” Your voice stops making any noise by the time you reach the end of that.

HALF-LIGHT — And then there’s silence. You know this silence. It’s the sound of someone deciding they’re sick of your shit. This is the moment he realizes he really, truly does not know you and you don’t know him. And he knows he has to get out of here, before you take him down with you, like you’ve done to so many others. EMPATHY — But then there’s a hard pat on your back. Thumping against a hollow drum, ringing through your electrified lungs. KIM KITSURAGI — “It’s okay, detective.” PERCEPTION — His voice is soft and careful.

KIM KITSURAGI — “Honestly, it’s astonishing you’ve held out this long. It’s barely been two months since Martinaise. Since the Whirling. Throughout my time in the RCM, I have seen many good officers break over less. I didn’t know you before March. I don’t really know what kind of officer you might’ve been before that. But who I am familiar with is the Lieutenant Double-Yefreitor Harrier Du Bois, the officer I met two months ago, who is probably the strangest man I’ve ever met, but he is also the most relentless, the most stubborn, the most annoying, and honestly, the most sincere man I’ve ever known to grace the RCM. He is a man who cares enough to find the time in his busy workload to help people he just met, whose troubles he sniffs out like a bloodhound, offering them the help that no one else would. No matter how trivial, or how complicated. I don’t know if this selflessness is something you picked up because you don’t know how to help yourself, but I do know there’s a real effort in there. There’s a real, true love for the people of Revachol. And I know how much this job takes out of people. You can’t turn every mistake around in just a few months. Probably not even a few years. But I think what matters is that you are trying, and I can see how much it hurts you to feel like you’ve failed in that. Please don’t think that tonight is a sign that you can’t do better. Tonight is a dam breaking in the expectations you’ve built up for yourself after staring down your own potential.”

PERCEPTION — Are you laughing? Or is that crying? INLAND EMPIRE — It feels like there are ghosts escaping your every breath. Like parts of you are desperately rushing to the surface, tearing through flesh and bone, clawing at a chance for freedom. The lieutenant’s arm still rests heavily on your back, the only anchor your spirit has left as it dissipates into vapor and rushes through the night.

VOLITION — You cry until there’s nothing left in you anymore.

KIM KITSURAGI — After a moment, he realizes you’re staring at him, then adjusts in his seat, leaning forward and settling his arms in front of him. “How are you feeling? Do you think you can walk?” YOU — “I uhh... probably. My leg doesn’t hurt as much right now.” KIM KITSURAGI — “Mm.” He mutters, getting up from his seat. “At least there is that small grace. How far is your place?” PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT — You’re pretty sure he’s offering to walk you back. You’re not a child, you can get home perfectly fine on your own, thank you. YOU — “Ten blocks.” COMPOSURE — You quickly try to rise to your feet, but it becomes immediately apparent that the floor has been replaced with a rickety old carousel, and you promptly lose your footing. REACTION SPEED — Before you can even attempt to figure out what is happening, you realize that Lieutenant Kitsuragi has wrapped one of his arms around your back. PERCEPTION — His grip is tight and you can feel the muscles tensing in his forearm against your back. Once again, its presence stabilizes you, a beacon for your twisting senses to converge upon. It takes a few moments for everything to slot back into the correct place. KIM KITSURAGI — “Are you sure you’re alright, detective?” DRAMA — His concern is quite sincere. YOU — “I just gotta sleep this off.” You say as you steady yourself back upright.

KIM KITSURAGI — “Let’s get going, then.” He nods to you as he zips up his jacket again, then stretches his right arm out behind your back. PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT — No, dude, fuck that shit, you’re sick of people propping you up because of your stupid leg, we can do this shit on our own! YOU — “Thanks.” You steady yourself against his arm and extend your left against his back as well. PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT — Hey, what! DRAMA — By now, the lieutenant knows when you’re just trying to bullshit and act like a tough guy. It’s time to drop the act, for now. He knows you need the help. You wouldn’t have called him if you didn’t.

CONCEPTUALIZATION — That’s all I got. The rest is just black. YOU — Ugghhhhhh damn it. Like Kim hasn’t seen enough of me making an ass of myself by now. EMPATHY — On the bright side, his mental image of you can probably only improve. Hopefully. Maybe. YOU — Whatever. What time is it? PERCEPTION — You look around for your alarm clock, and find it knocked onto the floor beside your bed. It says 9:53. YOU — Shit. Did I have work today? ESPRIT DE CORPS — No. Your hours have been temporarily reduced during your recovery period. YOU — Right. Okay. I should probably get up and do something about this headache.

You throw the blanket off of your body and gradually roll yourself out of bed, bones creaking with aches and pains, limping across the room and dodging various discarded clothes and shoes that litter the floor. You twist the doorknob and open your bedroom door, making your way across the living room, towards the bathroom.

REACTION SPEED — Wait! There’s someone… on the couch? PERCEPTION — A figure of a man lies on the couch, covered with an ugly patchwork blanket, still sleeping. Next to the couch, an orange bomber jacket rests. Wait… is that Kim? HALF-LIGHT — OH MY GOD, you’re half-naked, GET BACK IN YOUR ROOM AND PUT YOUR PANTS ON BEFORE YOU HUMILIATE YOURSELF. SAVOIR FAIRE — You quickly backpedal, trying not to make any noise, and press your door shut firmly, hoping that you weren’t noticed. YOU — Why is he here??? I thought he just walked me home? HALF-LIGHT — Stop thinking and get your damn armor on! VOLITION — Armor? We didn’t find any armor pants in Martinaise. DRAMA — He’s being metaphorical. You hurriedly stuff your legs into the closest pair of semi-clean trousers before peeking out the door again.

PERCEPTION — The lieutenant is still asleep on the couch. SAVOIR FAIRE — Alright, go time. You sneak through the living room and into the bathroom, carefully trying not to creak the medicine cabinet as you get yourself some painkillers. ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Down the whole bottle! Party time! VOLITION — No. We are not doing that.

After taking the recommended dose of painkillers, you peek out into the living room again. PERCEPTION — Lieutenant Kitsuragi is still resting quietly on your couch, lying on his back, tightly wrapped in the ugly spare blanket from your linen closet. You suddenly realize there’s something different about the living room… such as, there’s less garbage everywhere. EMPATHY — Did he clean the room up for you? Or maybe for himself?

You exit the bathroom and slowly cross the living room, stopping halfway through, looking at the lieutenant again. PERCEPTION — He looks peaceful, and his face relaxed and still. With his glasses off, you notice more of the shape of his brow and his tired eyes. His breathing is slow and measured, with quiet sighs. One of his arms dangles out from under the blanket, his hand just barely off the floor. His fingers are thin, bony, weathered from work, with little scars and blemishes that have mostly faded away.

SUGGESTION — Hold it.

YOU — What?

No one replies. You stare for a moment, feeling a tension in your chest. Curiosity snakes through your skin. You step closer towards the couch, then slowly crouch down, meeting the lieutenant’s eye level.

SUGGESTION — Hold it. Please.

You reach forward, and the lieutenant suddenly stirs.

KIM KITSURAGI — “Mmnh…” His eyes flutter open. “Oh, good morning detective.” YOU — “Uh, yeah. Good morning.” You casually withdraw your hand and rest it on your leg. “Why are you here…?” KIM KITSURAGI — “You don’t remember?” He asks with a hint of concern. YOU — “Well, mostly. I remember you helped me walk home, but after that, it’s fuzzy.” KIM KITSURAGI — “Ah, so just the normal amount of alcohol-induced forgetfulness.” The lieutenant nods at you, then sits up on the couch. He reaches for his glasses on the side table, then folds them open. “I decided to stay here on the couch, just in case...” He trails off. EMPATHY — To keep an eye on you. In case you started doing worse.

YOU — “...Thanks. I’m sorry for interrupting your night.” KIM KITSURAGI — “No need to apologize,” he says with a slight smile. “Honesty, I’m… glad you asked for help instead of isolating yourself. That would have been…” He pauses, looking for the correct words. “Not ideal. What time is it, anyway?” YOU — “Bit after 10.” KIM KITSURAGI — “Already that late? Good thing I’m not working today.”

YOU — “Sorry to make you clean up after me.” You say, glancing across the room. KIM KITSURAGI — “Well, no, it’s not your fault or anything. You didn’t expect company.” He seems a bit self-conscious suddenly, looking away. “I suppose it’s more like I don’t know how to leave a mess alone.” SUGGESTION — You’re not sure which mess he means—the apartment, or you. EMPATHY — It’s both. You feel a slight embarrassment tingling across the surface of your skin and decide to change the topic.

YOU — “You said you have the day off?” KIM KITSURAGI — “Yes, I have a few errands to run, part of some loose ends to clean up for my transfer to 41. But I can get those done any time during the day.” SUGGESTION — You should— YOU — “Do you wanna go get breakfast? I know a good place down the street.” You say it before you can even finish thinking. KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant sits quietly for a moment, adjusting his glasses. “Hmmm… sure, why the hell not. I’ve got some time to spare.” SUGGESTION — Jackpot! YOU — “I’m gonna go get dressed, you’re welcome to the bathroom if you need it.” KIM KITSURAGI — “Sounds good.”

You walk into your bedroom and shut the door behind you.

CONCEPTUALIZATION — Time to get stylish! LOGIC — Not that stylish, it’s just breakfast. Don’t make it weird. INLAND EMPIRE — Hey, weird is our thing! YOU — I think I’m just gonna wear whatever’s clean and doesn’t smell repulsive. CONCEPTUALIZATION — Oh, sorry, didn’t know we were Boring Cop today.

After taking a quick glance at what’s available, you decide to just go with a simple, pastel gingham button-up and a fresh pair of jeans. Glancing at your coats, you grab a blue blazer with a checkered lining.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT — Oh my god you look like a nerd. RHETORIC — No, he looks smart. Ready to have a battle of the wits. PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT — Yeah, like I said, A NERD!

You quietly ignore the high school bullying going on inside your head as you exit the room. Lieutenant Kitsuragi glances at you from next to the couch, in the middle of putting on his jacket.

KIM KITSURAGI — “No disco today?” He says with a slight smile. YOU — “All my disco’s due for the wash.” KIM KITSURAGI — He tugs at his collar and settles his jacket into place. “It’s almost odd to see you in something so… tame.” YOU — “I mean, I still got the jackets from Fuck the World and Piss F****t if you change your mind.” KIM KITSURAGI — “Somehow I doubt the waitstaff would be understanding of the artist’s statements at breakfast.” He lets out a small chuckle. EMPATHY — There’s a surprising softness in his response. KIM KITSURAGI — “I’m all set to go if you are.”

The two of you head out of your apartment and set out down the road, your destination just two blocks away. The streets of Jamrock are already lively with pedestrians and motor carriages milling about. Before long, you arrive at a staircase with a weathered, striped canopy hanging above, quietly announcing its presence with simple text saying “The Lazy Daisy”. You and the lieutenant head down the stairs and enter the little eatery, pushing past the door and being met with the sweet and salty smells of this morning’s meals. You wave to the waitress and take a seat at a little table in the corner.

KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant takes his seat across from you, his eyes studying the surroundings. “You know, I never noticed this place before.” YOU — “Yeah, it’s easy to miss amongst all the other businesses on this road.” KIM KITSURAGI — “But you remembered it?” YOU — “I think my feet did.”

WAITRESS — A cheerful, pudgy woman in her forties wearing a striped apron walks over to the table, little menu books in hand. “Good morning officers! Thanks for stopping by the Lazy Daisy today. Can I get you something to drink while you look over the menu?”

YOU — “You wanna get a pot of coffee, Kim?” KIM KITSURAGI — “Sure, that sounds fine.” WAITRESS — “Alright, I’ll give you a moment to look over the menu!”

You already know what you’re going to order: skillet hash with a side of toast. You watch the lieutenant look the menu over and find yourself wondering what he’ll order. YOU — “You seem like an Eggs Benedict kind of guy to me.” KIM KITSURAGI — “I was thinking about trying this malted waffle actually. It’s been a while since I had a good waffle.” He replies, not looking up from the menu. “But you are correct, I do enjoy a good Eggs Benedict.”

YOU — “Can’t go wrong with either one.” WAITRESS — The waitress returns, a full pot of coffee in one hand and two mugs in the other. She gently places the pot of coffee at the center of the little table and places the mugs down on either side. “Alright, so what can I get for you boys?” YOU — “I’ll go for the skillet hash with a side of dry toast. And the lieutenant here…” KIM KITSURAGI — “I’ll take a malted waffle with a side of bacon.” WAITRESS — “Sounds great! I’ll bring it out when it’s ready.”

You turn your attention to the coffee and partially fill both of the mugs, absent-mindedly adding a sugar cube and a little cup of half-and-half to yours and stirring, watching the color spread and blend. You look up and notice the lieutenant surveying the restaurant again.

KIM KITSURAGI — “Hmmm… yes, this place certainly seems your style.” YOU — “What, sad and old?” KIM KITSURAGI — He smiles slightly, but his brow betrays his discomfort. “No, I was thinking more along the lines of… eclectic, stubborn, lively.” He glances at the walls covered in various posters, art, and rock and roll memorabilia. YOU — “Disco.” KIM KITSURAGI — “Disco.” He nods affirmatively.

You absently stir your coffee and lift it to your mouth to take a sip, mulling over topics of conversation. RHETORIC — Go for a standard sort of icebreaker, what’s the latest with him, that sort of thing. ESPRIT DE CORPS — Let’s talk work. Trade some gritty case stories with him! INTERFACING — Maybe you could talk torque dork to torque dork? EMPATHY — Neither of you have motor carriages right now. That would just be a bummer. INLAND EMPIRE — Ask him to tell you a secret! AUTHORITY — That one never works.

YOU — “You just moved into your new place, right Kim? How is it?” KIM KITSURAGI — “Hmm, it’s not bad. I had to make a few concessions but… there’s a bit more floor space than my last place. I finally have a good space for a proper desk.” He takes a sip of his coffee. “Now the only trouble is getting a desk up three flights of stairs.”

YOU — “I can lend you a hand with that if you want. I have reason to suspect I may be a former gym teacher.” PERCEPTION — You can’t really hear it, but judging by the steam rolling away from the mug at his lips, you can tell the lieutenant let a light chuckle out through his nose before taking another sip of coffee.

KIM KITSURAGI — “Maybe I’ll take you up on that when I find something suitable.” RHETORIC — Great job! Look at you! You’re so good at talking like a normal person!

KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant casually withdraws his notebook from his jacket and starts perusing it while he slowly sips his coffee. YOU — “Hey, no working until we’ve had breakfast.” KIM KITSURAGI — He barely moves, glancing upwards at you and cocking an eyebrow. AUTHORITY — It’s fine, that brow is only operating at about 25% capacity. You got this. YOU — “Take a break, lieutenant.” You place your hand on top of his, gently encouraging him to lower the notebook onto the table. He nonchalantly relents, quickly withdrawing his hand and tucking it under his other arm, which rests casually on the table. His glance wanders away from you and out towards the windows. EMPATHY — It’s hard to tell if he’s annoyed or just playing up indifference. Perhaps you shouldn’t have grabbed his hand like that.

You take a moment to look around the restaurant, passively taking in the surroundings that feel intensely familiar to your instincts, but strangely recent to the rest of you. It’s a weird feeling, one you’ve been experiencing just about everywhere you go in Jamrock. Places that you know but have never seen. Drifting shadows of the person you once were, and still are, half-buried in a haze. Your head fluctuates in the pressure, a mix of pristine images just out of reach and faint illusions gripped tightly in your palm.

KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant’s low voice suddenly pulls you back to reality. “Everything alright, detective?” INLAND EMPIRE — There is a hole in my brain. YOU — “Yeah, sorry. Just thinking about the usual.” You pause, contemplating your next words. “Grinding the bourgeoisie into sausage for the proletariat and whatnot,” you lie. KIM KITSURAGI — “Ah, so nice of you to join us, Comrade Mazov.” YOU — You quickly bust out your trusty finger guns and fire off two shots, clicking your tongue as you snap your fingers. KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant is unphased by your reckless discharge of live rounds that undoubtedly rain chaos upon the once peaceful restaurant. DRAMA — C’mon, he probably thinks it’s at least a little cool. EMPATHY — It’s not, man.

RHETORIC — Let’s get back to the list. What else can we talk about? YOU — “Tell me a secret about yourself.” KIM KITSURAGI — He sighs. “This again?” YOU — “You know it.” KIM KITSURAGI — He pauses for a moment. “No.” YOU — “Aww, come on.” KIM KITSURAGI — He raises one eyebrow. AUTHORITY — Oh god, we have full capacity brow-raising. I repeat, full capacity!

KIM KITSURAGI — His brow lowers slightly, offering a challenge. “You’re terrible at keeping secrets. Maybe if you can think of a single piece of personal trivia you haven’t already divulged entirely unprompted to any random passerby, we can come back to this topic.” ESPRIT DE CORPS — He does not believe that his terms can be met. He is secure in that. SUGGESTION — Challenge accepted! YOU — “Deal.” DRAMA — You’re gonna need to work on this for like, at least 8 hours probably. Maybe more like 20.

WAITRESS — The same woman reappears with a tray in hand, radiating the unmistakable smell of hot, fresh breakfast. “Here you are, sirs!” She gently slides the plates in front of each of you. “Let me know if there’s anything else you need! Enjoy your food!” PERCEPTION — You notice the name on her apron: Denice. YOU — “Thanks, Denice.” WAITRESS — She offers a polite smile before leaving.

You immediately start digging in, shoveling the mixed bits of potato, egg, bacon, and cheese into your mouth, savoring the salt and fat of a hearty breakfast. It’s your favorite meal, but you don’t always have the time or energy to get anything decent most mornings.

SUGGESTION — Hey, I just had a great idea! Offer Kim some of this shit. YOU — You finish the bite you have in your mouth quickly. “Hey, Kim, you wanna try some of mine?” KIM KITSURAGI — He blinks. “No, thank you. I’ve got plenty here.” He looks down at the colossal waffle on his plate, barely dented. YOU — “Yeah but this is like, stupid good. I’ll even let you have some egg yolk.” KIM KITSURAGI — “Very generous of you.” He smirks, then studies your plate for a moment. “Hm… sure, why not.”

You slide your plate a bit closer to him. He holds his fork up, surveying for the ideal sample size. Then, he strikes, claiming an entire egg for himself.

YOU — “Woooow.” You feign offence. KIM KITSURAGI — “Sorry, detective. I’ll need to confiscate this. I believe it may be connected to a case I’m working on.” He tries to keep a straight face but the corner of his mouth is slightly turned upwards. In seconds, he files the evidence into his mouth and promptly destroys it.

YOU — “Can’t believe the corruption I am witnessing here.” In a counter-attack, you jab your fork into one of the untouched corners of the lieutenant’s waffle. KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant stabs his knife down across from your fork, as if ready to engage in combat. He stares you down, brows furrowed with the illusion of authority. “Detective, I would tread carefully if I were you. You have entered enemy territory, and I have the high ground.”

PERCEPTION — You can feel your face turning red in the heat of the incredibly stupid breakfast battle you have entered. AUTHORITY — Do it! Let loose the dogs of war! Get that fucking waffle! KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant narrows his eyes at you, his concentration unwavering. The authority levels are building in his brow. They are charged to 50% capacity. DRAMA — I have an idea, sire.

YOU — You relax back in your seat, looking behind Kim. “Oh, hey Captain Pryce, here to enjoy the best breakfast in Central Jamrock?” KIM KITSURAGI — He quickly turns his head to look behind him. SAVOIR FAIRE — In an instant, you slice a corner of the waffle free from Kim’s plate, casually sliding it onto yours. KIM KITSURAGI — Realizing the feint, he snaps his attention back to you, glaring.

YOU — You pull your plate back, then pick up your mug, gesturing towards the lieutenant with a slight smirk. “Truce?” KIM KITSURAGI — Studying you for a moment, he reluctantly picks up his mug and clinks it against yours. “For now.”

#disco elysium #de spoilers #disco elysium spoilers #fanfic #koko fic #de fanfic

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acciomalfoy · 4 years ago

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fool’s gold (cedric diggory x reader)

summary: you’ve been best friends forever, and valentines hasn’t meant much until now

a/n: GO FOLLOW @fromashescomephoenixes THIS IS YET ANOTHER COLLAB WITH HER!!!!! FOLLOW NOW AND CHECK OUT HER FICS!!!

“I’m still not happy with you,” I said, and Cedric only laughed. “Stop laughing!” I scowled, and he swung an arm around me.

“The tournament is well and truly over, Y/n, and you never have to go in the Black Lake again.” He grinned at me, and I only scowled.

“You could’ve gotten killed, or worse, lost the tournament!” As a member of Slytherin, winning is absolutely everything. Maybe Ced dying was a tad worse.

“But I won.” His shit-eating grin said it all, and I whacked his shoulder.

“Get off of your high horse.” I shook my head, and he stood up. For some reason he had taken to sitting at the Slytherin table during meals, not that I was about to complain.

“Look’s like Sprout’s about to charge me, I’ll see you in potions?” He asked, and I nodded. Potions was definitely my favourite class, and it had nothing to do with a greasy haired git, but everything to do with the golden boy I sat next to.

“See you then.” Not a second after he left Eleanor Flint clutched my shoulder.

“You’re totally dating! When did he ask you out? Was it right after Chang dumped him, or did he wait a while? Waiting is totally more classy, but I can see Diggory not wanting to wait.” Eleanor babbled, and I stared at her.

“We aren’t dating, and nor does he want to.” I said, but as soon as the words left my mouth I knew I had made a mistake.

“But you want to.” El screeched, and I quickly covered her mouth with my hand.

“No! Cedric still likes Cho, I’m certain of it.” I said, and El pushed away my hand.

“Rumour has it she broke up with Diggory because you were in the lake and not her. If Diggory liked her more than you she would have been in the lake.” El was batshit crazy, I was positive.

“I was in the lake because I’ve been best friends with Ced since first year. I’m not listening to this, El.” I stood up quickly, and before she could continue arguing with me I speed walked my way out of the Great Hall. Good thing too, since I realised that I had left my advanced potions textbook in my dorm.

The dungeons weren’t too far from the Great Hall, and I made it there in what I would consider record-timing. My textbook was on my desk, and it wasn’t until I was leaving did I see the note on my bed.

I gingerly picked up the note, all too aware of how the Weasley twins had it out for the Slytherin house, and froze.

I’m like a crow on a wire, you’re the shining distraction that makes me fly.

I spun around the room, as if the writer of the notes would be standing in front of me, but the room was still, void of life aside Eleanor’s plant that was bordering death anyway.

I shook my head and stuffed the note in one of my robe pockets. I really didn’t have time to contemplate shit like this. With my potions book in my bag, I turned and left the dorm, soon entering the common room and eventually the hallways of the dungeons. I didn’t have to go far, since the potions room was only a couple corridors over. I slid into my seat seconds before Snape swept into the room, and I looked at Cedric who was already staring at me.

“What?” I whispered, and he looked at Snape before replying.

“Where were you?” He asked, and I pulled out my quill, ink pot, and finally some parchment.

My dorm, why?

You left the hall in a rush. Why’d you go to your dorm?

I forgot my potions book. Besides, El was killing me and I had to get out of there.

He nodded thoughtfully, and I decided to listen to Snape for once in my life. Anything to keep my mind occupied.

Later that afternoon, we were sat in the dark, stuffy tower for divination. The scent of lavender and peppermint was already overcoming my senses to cloud my mind and make me feel extremely sleepy. According to Trelawny peppermint was meant to sharpen seeing abilities, however I’m not sure anything can sharpen the non-existent...

Luckily, this was another class with Cedric. Merlin knows why we chose to continue it after OWLs, but I suppose that’s the Slytherin in me again: proving I can do it, and do it best.

Right as I’m preparing to drift into my sleepy daze, Ced nudges me.

“Trelawny. Five o’clock,” he mouths, nodding his head in the direction of my left shoulder.

“Hello dears!” She springs up, slightly like a jack in a box. I entertain the thought of telling her so, but she cuts me off as I open my mouth.

“Have you seen anything in your teacups yet?” She questions, staring at us in a way that is a touch too dramatic for my taste.

“Erm, yes.” I respond, trying to save Cedric’s skin since he just saved mine. Grabbing his emerald green tea cup, I grasp the golden yellow handle, and twist it three times. I’m not sure why... it just seemed right.

I glance at my book, but decide to wing it.

“I see a knight- or er. Perhaps a hero?” Trelawny nods, her eyelids fluttering as she rests them close and furrows her brow.

“No, it’s a knight in shining armour.” I nod, settling on this seeing. Cedric glances up slightly at the word ‘shining’ but shrugs it off quickly. He smirks at me,

“Oh, and what does that symbolise y/n?” His eyes flash slightly with mischief.

“It means you should keep your big mouth shut!” I glare at him, but can’t help cracking into a smile after a moment in his laughing gaze.

“Well dears,” Trelawny chirps at us, grabbing for the cup. “Indeed! I see...”

She gasps as I lazily flick my wand to float the cup off of the ground. I still wish I had remembered this trick when we were working with crystal balls...

“Oh Professor!” I groan miserably, despite the traces of thick sarcasm. “Please don’t say I’m due to die,” I throw myself back in my chair while Cedric tries to hold in a snort.

“I’m afraid you are my dear, in a most unfortunate incident involving a revolving door and a popsicle...”

—

“Charms is the worst.” Cedric groaned from beside me, and I nodded. Charms was fucking boring is what it was.

“Flitwick said it was a practical today.” I remembered, and Cedric brightened up considerably.

“About connecting minds?” He asked, and I nodded.

“I think so, partners?” I answered and asked, but I already knew what Cedric was going to say.

“Howdy.” He tipped an imaginary hat at me, and I sniggered.

“Attention seventh years! I’d like you all to get into pairs, and I will form the mind connecting spell. It will last for just one minute, and there may be minor discomfort as the minute comes to a close. Jordan and Berg, you’re first up.” Flitwick began the charm on the first Hufflepuff and Slytherin duo, and they laughed excitedly as the charm went into effect.

“Diggory and L/n, let’s get to it. Face one another and stare into each other’s eyes.” Flitwick instructed, and Ced beamed at me as we stared at each other.

“Now hold each other’s hands, please.” I felt myself growing sweaty at the thought, but Cedric took my hands with ease, and without breaking eye contact.

His grey eyes were more startling than ever, and I couldn’t help but wonder what the hell the pretty boy was thinking.

“Ut copulare,” Flitwick began murmuring until out of the corner of my eye I watched a flying wand hit the professor. “Oh!” Flitwick let out a startled cry, and Cedric and I nodded simultaneously as we broke eye contact to stare at him.

“Uh oh.” He tittered nervously, and I swallowed. The last time I heard a professor say uh oh was when Slughorn brewed a de-aging potion and it exploded on one of my classmates, rendering them to infancy for a good three weeks. Rumour had it she still used the pacifier from time to time.

“Do you feel okay?” Flitwick asked, and I nodded.

“I feel fine, Professor. In fact, I’ve never felt better.” This was a lie. I had woken up with a knot the size of a rats nest in my hair this morning, as well as having forgotten to do the potions homework last night. However, my teacher looked relieved, so I smiled at him.

“Same here.” Cedric added, and Flitwick sighed.

“Just in case the spell worked, I won’t be able to perform another one on you until at least a week from now.” Flitwick said, and with that he moved to another pair.

“Well I’d say that went well.” Cedric said, and I snickered.

“About as well as your date with Cho.” I was talking about his final date with Cho, which ended in her pouring a milkshake on his head.

“You’re going to be the death of me.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, and I stuck my tongue out.

—

“Salazar, what’s the reasoning for all these decorations?” I asked as we left charms. Pink and red decorations hung from ceiling to floor, and it was then that I realised it was Valentines next week.

“Every year the house elves go overboard. We should talk to them about it sometime.” Cedric wrinkled his nose, and I nodded. This was just too much.

“What’s going on over there?” I pointed to a circle that had formed, and it looked like two people were in the centre of it.

“Only one way to find out.” Cedric said, and we slowly approached it. Adrian, a fellow Slytherin, nodded at me.

“What’s going on?” I asked him, and he gestured to the pair inside the circle.

“They’re trapped until they kiss, because a rose fell from the ceiling right in front of them. It’s magically binding, so we could be here a while.” Adrian explained, and I tugged on Cedric’s arm.

“Did you hear that? It’s like mistletoe, they can’t leave til they kiss. It only happens when two people are in love.” I repeated, and Cedric nodded as we walked away from the circle.

“I barely survived the mistletoe.” Cedric said with a shiver, and I laughed as I remembered the girls that had chased Cedric down while waving mistletoe. It had been a sight for sore eyes.

“It’s okay, Ceddie. Time for lunch!”

—

“Could we maybe eat by the lake?” He asked, already having dodged three eager third years. The Great Hall was as busy as ever, and I noticed I myself was subject to several glares.

“I suppose.” I dramatically consented, grabbing two pumpkin pasties and some carrots with hummus from the nearest table. “Let’s go,” I led the charge.

A particularly determined looking Goyle stood directly in my path, stationed by a suspicious rose. I debated how best to get around, when I felt my feet lift off of the floor altogether.

“Cedric!” I shouted as I was levitated a good ten feet across the hall towards the door. I could only hear Cedric’s laughter as he ran below me, and I ducked as I saw the doorway coming straight for my head.

“Mr. Diggory!” McGonagall was heard shouting across the hall, however we were already halfway to the lake.

Dissolving in a fit of laughter, we sank onto the bank of the lake.

“Ah, back where it all began.” Cedric grinned towards me. I could think of a great deal of memories surrounding this lake, but I wasn’t entirely sure of any that had marked the beginning of something.

“What began?” I nudged him with my elbow and took a rather ‘unladylike’ bite of my pumpkin pasty.

Cerdric shrugged, and responded by taking a large mouthful of his own. He then grinned with a pumpkin paste covering his teeth.

“Ugh, you’re disgusting!” I threw a pebble at him gently. He simply transformed it into a golden finch. And so, another calm, sunny day was passed by the lake.

••••

After lunch, I took a quick trip to the dorms while Cedric was in quidditch practise. I needed to finish this potions essay, and only one person could save me.

“Come on, Y/n! You’re so slow.” Pansy teased as she speed-walked to the dorm, and I only huffed.

“These legs weren’t made for walking!” I shouted as she entered the portrait, and the only response was the faint echo of her laughter.

By the time I stepped through the portrait, the common-room was empty aside a few stray kids from the years below. I walked through the short hallway to our dorm, and Pansy was staring directly at me as I came in, a note in her hand.

“I’m the first to admit that I’m reckless, I get lost in your beauty and I can’t see two feet in front of me.” Pansy read it aloud, and I froze.

“What the fuck is this?” She asked, and I shrugged.

“I don’t know. I got another one yesterday, I kinda forgot about it.” I explained, and Pansy raised an eyebrow.

“That’s sus, but whatever. Come on, let’s get to the library!”

—

“Holy Hippogriff!” I jumped as I felt a hard impact in my lower back.

“You okay y/n?” Pansy frowned as I rubbed my back. I frowned back, puzzled by this unexplained pain.

“I think so? Something just hit me in the back,” I explained, glancing around for the remnants of a prank of some sort. None appeared. Pansy shrugged and returned to her potions work. I gathered my stuff, and debated where to head next.

It was the end of the day, and I had completed all of my homework. So I was blessed with some nice free time. In a last second decision I veered towards the Quidditch pitch to meet Cedric after his practice.

“Hey y/n!” A sweet voice called out as I was about to duck out of the entrance hall.

“Hello Holly!” I spun on my heel. Holly was always quite nice to me, even though most of the Gryffindors avoided me. “How are you?”

“Swell thanks,” she nodded. “Just wanted to say congrats to you and Diggory! You two are so cute together!” I blushed all the way up to my ears.

“No I-“ she was already speeding down the hall back towards the tower. I sighed and continued towards the pitch.

••••

“Y/n!” Cedric waved across the field towards me. I noticed him limping slightly, but didn’t think anything of it.

“How was practice Ced?” I asked, and he only shrugged.

“Managed to take a bludger to the back, but it wasn’t too bad.” He said as he approached me.

“Doesn’t look good if you’re limping. Want to go to Pomfrey’s?” I gestured towards the various windowsills side by side that was the infirmary, and Cedric shook his head.

“I’m fine, Hooch said it would be worn off by tomorrow. Did you get all your homework done?” He asked, and I saw his face flinch.

“That’s it. We’re going to the infirmary. Give me your arm. Besides, my back has been aching since the library. Maybe I can get it checked out.” He held his arm out curiously, and I wrapped it around my shoulder so I could help him put less pressure on his leg.

“Thanks, Y/n.” He said sheepishly, and I smiled at him.

“I got all my homework done, by the way. Pansy even helped me with the last part of the potions essay that we struggled to do, so I’ll explain it tonight or tomorrow.” I said, and Cedric nodded.

“Sounds good, let’s go.”

—

“For some reason you’ve both bruised the exact same area in your lower back. Do you two have anything you’d like to share with me?” Pomfrey stared at us, and Cedric laughed.

“It's a complete coincidence!” He said, and I nodded, but I was mentally frowning.

There’s no such thing as coincidences.

—

“One day you’re going to spill the boiling water all over yourself.” I said as I watched Cedric in a feeble attempt to pour the water from 15 inches above into his teacup.

“I’m not the quidditch captain for nothing-ow!” Cedric yelped at the same time I hissed, and I quickly inspected my wrist.

“Some of it just landed on me!” I glared at him, and he stared blankly back.

“It landed on me, Y/n. You’re across the table it couldn’t have splashed you.” Cedric said slowly, and I realised my wrist was bone-dry.

“I swear to Godric I felt it hit me.” I said earnestly, and Cedric nodded.

“I don’t doubt it. Shall we go back to Pomfrey?” Cedric asked, and I shook my head.

“It’s probably nothing. Lighten up, Ced, we’re fine. We’ve got the lovely class of charms next, followed by Sprout’s endless herbology lectures.” I nudged Cedric with my elbow, but he still seemed upset.

“Hey, what’s up?” I leaned closer and murmured, and he leant his head on mine.

“What if it’s not nothing? What if we’ve been cursed somehow?” I wished I could erase the worry from his face.

“I highly doubt that. Hogwarts is one of the safest places ever, and if someone was going around cursing people we would definitely know about it.” I tried my best to reassure him, and he sighed.

“Okay, dipshit. I guess I trust you.”

—

“Odds on you asking Sprout what the word sex means?” I asked, and Cedric laughed.

“Ten.” I looked at him in surprise.

“You sure? That’s pretty low.” He nodded.

“Why wouldn’t I be sure?” He asked, and I snickered.

“No reason. Three, two, one!”

“Eight!” We both shouted, and I screeched with laughter. Ced was done for.

“No! Rematch!” He said desperately, and I tried to control my laughter.

“Nope! Go ask!” I put my hand over my mouth in an attempt to control my laughter again, and Cedric reluctantly raised his hand.

“Professor? I have a question.” Cedric called out, and Sprout turned around to face us.

“Yes dear?” She smiled at him, and I nudged Cedric’s leg.

“What’s sex?” The entirety of the Hufflepuff-Slytherin class erupted into screams, and Sprout gasped.

“Mr Diggory!” She exclaimed, and I genuinely thought I was going to piss myself.

“Well, as my head of house, I thought you would be the best teacher to ask.” He said, and I noticed his cheeks were bright red. He shot a glare at me before smiling innocently at Sprout.

“If you stay after class I might be able to explain, however, we are currently in a herbology lesson!” She looked like she was about to cry, and I slapped Cedric’s arm as I laughed.

“You’re insane!” I said, and the smile he gave me made my breath get caught in my throat.

The next day I ran into Cedric just before potions. He was about to trip right over his own two feet, when I caught his hand.

"Morning, clumsy!" I smirked slightly as he brushed off the imaginary dust he had acquired during his slip.

"Morning, y/n," he mumbled, lacking his regular enthusiasm. After chatting for a minute or two he started to back away slowly.

"Hey, I just have to run to the bathroom. I'll be back in time for class though!" He yelled over his shoulder now. He started to run down the stony corridor, however I realised after a moment that he was heading the wrong way.

"Wait! Ced, you're heading towards the common rooms!" I tried to yell after him, but figured he'd learn it in a moment anyway. It's not like he hadn't learned this before either. He came to the Slytherin common room almost as much as I went to the Hufflepuff one.

I followed his footsteps, figuring I would be able to talk to him on his way back. What I didn't expect was to see a single slip of parchment fluttering to the floor, and Cedric nowhere in sight.

I bent down quickly to pick it up, crinkling the hard corners with my anxious movements.

I’m like a boat on the water, you’re the raise on the waves that calm my mind.

It was in the same, scrawling writing as the other notes I had received, and the paper was exactly the same to all of the other's I had received.

Was it Cedric? I flipped the paper over and looked at the blank back. He couldn't possibly love me. Could he?

I smiled at the message, remembering when we met up over break once. We had taken his father’s boat sailing, and had somehow managed to capsize on three different occasions. I heard footsteps coming down the corridor, and I shoved the message in my pocket.

"Hey!" Cedric called out as he came near.

“Hi, Ced. Or should I say boat on the water?” I twirled the piece of paper around my fingers as he approached, and I watched as his face fell.

“That’s not mine.” He said quickly, and I raised my eyebrows.

“Hmm. If that’s true, then I better go search for my secret admirer.” I grinned as he took the bait and grabbed my hand, tugging me closer to him.

“How long have you known?” Ced asked, and I shrugged.

“I had my suspicions on Finch-Fletchley, but you proved me wrong with this note,” I laughed at Cedric’s reaction. “I’m joking of course, Ceddie. I had no idea who it was, but I’m glad it’s you.”

“Wait, really?” He seriously was the cutest. The way he was looking at me right now made me feel like the luckiest girl in the world; then again, I just might be.

“Of course I am. In case you hadn’t noticed, I’ve been trying to drop hints for four years.” Cedric laughed at my confession, and I elbowed him.

“Oi! I was only laughing because I’ve been dropping hints for five. I figured in our last year at school I may as well confess that I’m in love with you.” My breath caught in my throat, and he raised his hand to my face only to brush a piece of hair out of my eyes.

“You’re in love with me?” I asked, and he nodded.

“It’s practically impossible not to be. Now that you know it’s me, I was wondering if you wanted to be my valentine?” Cedric asked, and a rustling from above made us look up.

A red rose had just bloomed.

It was valentine's day. Of course, just about everywhere was packed with starry eyed couples. We had opted to stay at Hogwarts, and have a sweet picnic together. Cedric had taken care of the setting, and I had found all of the food.

It wasn't a bad effort. In my opinion he went slightly overboard with the pink, but I did appreciate the various hints of green he had added with the plates and napkins. Plus, I had brought plenty of food from the kitchens (which Cedric had shown me in my fourth year)

We settled down on the edge of the lake, and I took a moment to appreciate the sunny day, and the time I could finally spend with Cedric not just as friends, but as a couple. I laid down, and gently rested my head of Cedric's lap.

"We should have done this a lot sooner," I joked, but I meant it as well. Knowing I could have been dating Cedric for months before now was a little bittersweet. I tried to remember that at least we were here now together.

I wasn't exactly sure if I believed in soulmates, but I knew that if I had a soulmate, it would be Cedric.

"Thank goodness you found the note I was going to hide the other day," Cedric smiled.

"That's true, you're no Gryffindor," I teased. "Thank goodness!" I stuck my tongue out in mock disgust.

And that's when things took a turn. I watched as Cho came up to us, with a nasty frown on her face. Her frown darkened our picnic almost instantly.

“Fuck.” I breathed under my voice. What in Merlin’s name could she possibly want with me and Cedric? Obviously we were about to find out.

“Ceddie, honey!” She sang sweetly as she came closer to us. Cedric shot me a look and quickly set a reassuring, soft kiss on my lips before getting up.

“Cho. What are you doing here?” He asked, sounding incredibly confused. He rubbed his hand through his hair, anxious about her mission

“I came to rescue you!” She grinned innocently. As she reached for her hand I couldn’t help myself.

“Hey! Back off!” She shot me a burning glare, and sent a stinging spell at my wrist.

“Shit,” Cedric and I spoke in unison as we both grabbed our wrists. I muttered a healing spell or two as I glared towards Cho.

“Look, Cho, go away. Okay?” Cedric tried to kindly shoo her away. “I’m perfectly happy with y/n!” I smiled softly, glad to here Cedric say that.

“It’s okay Ceddie! I realised exactly why it was her in that lake and not me!” Cho chirrped. She sounded quite proud of herself, and I was curious what on earth she had come up with.

“Yeah, it’s because I love her!” Cedric explained. Cho let out a shrill laugh, and patted his arm.

“No silly!” She smiled sweetly, as if explaining to a young child. “You THINK you love her!” She shot another laser like look towards me.

“I’m pretty sure I know who I love Cho!” Cedric’s face began to harden as he realised this wasn’t going to be easy to brush off.

“She used a love potion on you!” Cho screeched, grabbing hold of Cedric.

“I said let go of him!” I got up off the blanket and walked over.

“She’s best in our potions class, she’s loved you since we were 13, and she’s a fucking Slytherin!” Cho explained desperately! She had small, glistening tears in her eyes now. I almost felt pity for her, but I couldn’t.

I walked over slowly, deciding exactly what I should say.

“Being a Slytherin doesn’t make me evil Cho, just like you being a Ravenclaw doesn’t make you smart!” I frowned. I hated how much the stereotypes of our houses defined us. “People aren’t able to be perfectly categorised between four groups!” Cho glared and jabbed her wand at me.

Before I realised what was happening, Cedric jumped between me and the flash of white light, but it couldn't stop the spell for some reason. I doubled over in excruciating pain that hit right around my belly button. It was as if my stomach had turned inside out and began to burn the surrounding flesh. I glanced over, and Cedric was in obvious pain as well.

I couldn’t contain the whimper that escaped from my mouth, and Cedric met my eyes.

“How the hell did you hit Y/n with that?” He spat out, while Cho only stared at us in shock and what looked like panic. After Cedric let out what sounded like a painful groan, Cho waved her wand and relief flooded me.

“Tell me! How did you do it?” Now that he was able to stand up without pain, Cedric got incredibly close to her, towering over her.

“I-I don’t know! You jumped in front, she must have been faking it!” I watched as Cedric lowered the manicured finger she had pointed at me, and whispered something in her ear. The effect in had on her was instantaneous; she slowly stepped away before turning tail and bolting away.

“We need to go to Pomfrey.” Cedric spoke without looking at me, though when I clasped his hand he squeezed mine tightly.

“I don’t know what to tell the pair of you. Have you been hit by an unknown spell in the past month or so?” Pomfrey looked tired, I noticed.

I wondered how often she slept.

“Not that I can think of.” Cedric said, and I nodded.

“Unless someone’s hit us without us noticing, then no.” I added, and Pomfrey sighed.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with the two of you. I’ve only heard of cases like these, never seen one myself. I think there’s only been four or five documented.” She explained, causing Ced and I to exchange glances.

“Well, what happened to those people?” I asked the obvious question, since my lovely boyfriend clearly wasn’t going to. Pomfrey shifted slightly.

“One person in each pair died before a full analysis and case study could be completed.” I almost laughed at the look on Cedric’s face until I realised that one of us was totally going to die soon.

“Well, my darling, it was lovely knowing you.” I patted him on the back, and he wrapped his arms around me, encasing me with love.

“What can we do?” Cedric asked, and Pomfrey shook her head.

“Not a whole lot. Try and remember if the pair of you have been struck by a spell in the past though.”

It took fourteen seconds after we left the infirmary to Cedric to slap his forehead.

“I think we’re stupid.” He said, and I raised an eyebrow.

“Speak for yourself. Personally, I’m the smartest person I know.” He snickered, and I frowned. Where was the joke?

“Flitwick hit us with that spell, remember? And the spell was interrupted halfway through, which created a new spell entirely.” Cedric explained, and I sighed.

“I think we’re stupid too.”

We'd spent another lovely 10 years being stupid together. Sure we'd had our ups and downs, but we always knew that we were soulmates.

Since we had found out about the spell, we've helped Flitwick research whatever charm had put us in the situation of feeling each others pain. It was actually quite strange when I was pregnant with our son, Cedric had noticed the contractions first.

After spending a couple of years with Flitwick researching the spell, we'd moved to Scotland and gotten married. Life had been quite pleasant. We owned a small farm where we raised cows and hippogriffs alike. Our son was now 6 years old, and had already decided that he wanted to be in Slytherin 'Just like mummy!'

Currently we were sitting in our favorite wizarding restaurant. I gazed over towards Cedric's kind face as he helped our son go through the maze on the children's menu. I grinned over at my two lovely boys, and nudged Cedric with my foot under the table.

"Hm?" He looked up, and our son copied him. I smiled towards them both, and silently thanked Merlin that I had these two lovely boys in my life.

"What do you want to eat?" I held up the menu, and raised my eyebrows. Cedric and our son looked at each other and then looked back towards be in sync.

"PIZZA!" They said together. I giggled and they quickly joined in.

Just as we share pain, Cedric and I share the multitude of joys that have bloomed in our lives. And that made the joy all the better.

#cedric diggory #cedric diggory x reader

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teamhappyme · 4 years ago

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my world is grey without you

pairing: nick amaro x reader

warnings: tissues. this is not happy.

word count: 1.7k

a/n: this is pure sadness. i am so sorry, it is all hurt and the smallest pin point of comfort. my first nick amaro fic, and it’s gonna be ~heartbreaking~ but this idea has been in my head for weeks. hope you enjoy some of the pain im serving.

****

You think Mother Nature must be in tune to your emotions, when you wake up that early May morning. The clouds were grey, rain pouring from the sky, collecting in puddles on the cracked sidewalks of New York City. If you had to describe to someone how you were feeling today, you would just tell them to look outside. You felt as gloomy as it was in the city today.

Normally, your walk to the coffee shop was bright and full of sunshine, especially during spring. The flowers were starting to bloom, the sun was staying out longer, and the weather finally started to reach past sixty degrees. Instead it was filled with droopy tulips and black umbrellas covering everyone’s faces.

You got your usual order, and one black coffee to go, hailing a cab across town to your destination. You planned on walking yesterday; the half hour walk would help clear your head and calm your nerves. But today, it would only leave you wet and cold.

Once you pulled up to the brick apartment building, you paid the driver and quickly ran up the stoop and into the entrance. You buzzed apartment 3G, and after a few seconds, you were let in. You rode the elevator up to the third floor, your foot tapping against the linoleum floor the entire time.

You stepped out and took a right down the hall, stopping at the fourth door on the left. After three knocks, the door swung open, and there stood the man of the hour.

“Hey, Nick.” you gave him a small smile, lifting the black coffee you got for him on your way here. “I know it’s early, but I figured this may help you with any last minute packing.”

“I,” he started, running a hand through his hair, “what are you doing here?”

“What, you think you can just leave without a proper send off from your partner? Besides, I’ve owed you this coffee for three years. I had to pay up before you left.”

That got a smile out of him, as he reached for the coffee, and opened the door up a little wider.

“Come on in,” the foyer of Nick Amaro’s apartment usually greeted you with an onslaught of pictures of Zara and Gil, accompanied by many drawings and art projects from the young girl. Now on his last morning here, the walls were stark white, void of anyone ever living here.

“I can’t believe you got this place packed up so fast. It took us a whole day just to get that giant brown couch into the apartment.” You said, as your eyes looked over what was once the living room.

“Well, that’s what movers are for.” He followed in behind you, taking in the apartment he called home for the last two years. He moved in to the first place he could find, not wanting to spend another minute thinking about living without his baby girl. “I would offer you a seat, but my furniture is in a u-haul, probably crossing Kansas right about now.”

You smiled, as you crossed your ankles and sat criss cross applesauce on the hardwood floor. “That’s alright. I prefer the floor anyways, keeps me grounded.”

You were ready for the pointed stare you got from him, only making you laugh harder at your awful pun.

“Three years we’ve been partners, and you still have awful jokes I’ve never heard.”

“Hey, I gotta keep you on your toes, Amaro.” he sat down next to you, leaning back on his hands and crossing one foot over the other. You knew there wasn’t much time before he had to head to the airport; you purposely gave yourself a small window to minimize the hurt. “How long do I have you for until you head for the sunshine?”

He looked down at his watch, letting out a small sigh as he checked the time. “My cab will be here in about twenty minutes.”

“Alright. Then we have twenty minutes to make the best cop movie script out of our careers together.”

And for the next twenty minutes, you remembered almost every moment you spent with Detective Nick Amaro. From the first day you met, which had a rocky start, to the day he turned in his papers to be with his kids. There were stories of stakeouts that always included pizza and blaring rock music to keep you awake, monday morning bets on who would be in the precinct last, and endless amounts of coffee runs to keep the other person going.

There was a lot of trust built between the two of you over the last three years. Nick had been through hell and back in the time you were partnered together, and there was no choice but to trust each other. At work, he needed somebody he could trust without any doubt, and you made it so easy for him. The kindness and empathy you treated him with from the beginning, even when he didn’t deserve it, made a difference in his life. There was no one else he’d trust with his life more than you.

After some time, you two were in sync with one another. You always knew what the other person needed, whether that was a coffee, space, or comfort, the two of you knew what to do. It made work that much easier, it made the bad days that much better, when you didn’t have to tell them how you were feeling; they just knew.

You had just finished the story about your first undercover op together, when his phone lit up.

“My ride is five minutes out.” he said, the trip down memory lane coming to an end. Your smile morphed from a shiny grin, into a small close mouthed line. It was time to say goodbye.

“I’ll walk you out,” you got out, barely above a whisper, as Nick stood up. He held his hand out to you, helping you onto your feet.

You watched as he grabbed his backpack from his room, patting his pockets to double check he had his phone, wallet, and boarding pass. He took one last look around the place before walking out and closing the door behind him for the last time.

The elevator ride down was quiet, you spent those thirty seconds regulating your breathing and swallowing the growing lump in the back of your throat. This wasn’t about you.

Once the doors opened to the lobby, you felt soft fingers inching their way into your palm, lighty holding you together. You looked over at Nick, slowly, but he was looking straight ahead. You saw the twitch in his jaw, and the bob of his adam’s apple, and you knew he was holding back his own tears.

Moving your hand the slightest bit, your fingers fell into place with his. You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, before following him out.

The rain had subsided considerably since you arrived, the downpour now more of a spring mist. You stood at the edge of the sidewalk with him for a few minutes, until he got the notification that the car was only five blocks away.

“Well, are you ready to turn into a Cali boy?” you asked, finally turning to see his face.

“I’m ready for no more New York winters. I am gonna miss just about everything else, though.”

“But you’ll have Zara, and Gil, and that’s all that really matters.” you said with a smile, while gently letting go of his hand. “Besides, I’ll make sure to send you endless videos of me shoveling myself out of my apartment building, just to let you know you made the right decision.”

“Please, please keep that promise and send me those videos. There is nothing more amusing than you swearing at snow.” you rolled your eyes, and nudged his shoulder in annoyance.

Instead of bouncing back off his body, you felt his arm snake around your waist. You leaned into his touch, letting your head rest on his shoulder. You felt the exhale of his breath before you heard it, along with the rapid beating of his heart.

“I’m gonna miss you, you know,” he started, as you focused on the way his fingers were moving up and down along your hip. “I wouldn’t have made it through everything without you.”

“I was your partner,” you said, the past tense already tasting like bile on your tongue. “I would’ve done anything for you. And I know you would’ve done anything for me.” You turned your head the slightest bit, just enough to see his face. “I’m gonna miss you too. More than I already do.”

He looked down at you, his brown eyes full of emotion and tears. His eyes flickered to your lips for the smallest moment, and you nodded, giving in to the moment, and the man you cared so much for.

His lips met yours in a chaste kiss, just long enough for you to remember what it felt like to hold Nick Amaro this close.

He pulled away, gently resting his forehead against your own. You let the moment last as long as it could, before the inevitable beep left Nick’s phone. They were here.

You pulled away from him, your waist growing cold without his arm wrapped around you. There was a beep from a blue car a few cars up, and you let out a sigh.

“Your ride’s here, Cali boy.” you said with a smile, wiping away the stray tear that traced your cheek. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

“I won’t. Call me, whenever you need me, alright?” you nodded, trying to memorize the smile on his face. He found your hand one last time, giving it a comforting squeeze.

“I will. Now, go, you’re gonna miss your flight if you hit any lunch traffic.” He looked up the street to the cab, before looking back at you.

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, and then your lips one last time.

“I’ll see you later, y/n/n.” he said, and you watched him walk down the streets of New York City for the last time.

But you knew you would cross paths with Nick Amaro again one day.

****

tags: @hurricanejjareau @qvid-pro-qvo @crazyshannonigans

#nick amaro x reader #nick amaro fanfiction #nick amaro fic #nick amaro #law and order: svu fanfiction #law and order svu fanfiction #law and order svu #jules writes shit ??

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froegs · 4 years ago

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My Stardew OC’s!

long post, but feel free to read up if u wanna ask questions or request to see more of them!!

Ivy Sodbuster!

Quick Facts about Ivy:

She worked in customer service @ joja for 6 years

She was a dedicated scene kid 8th grade and all through high school, unfortunately she had to trash (almost) all her clothes and redye her hair bc of joja 😞

She only wore business casual bc she would go and work for seven hours and come home, sleep, repeat. When she started working on the farm she was broke as hell so she had to rip the sleeves off her shirts and cut her jeans into jorts so she could have work clothes

Emily was her first friend in town bc she saw ivys busted ass and said..... let me help you

She became friends with Sam second just because. He was around.

She inherited grandpa’s farm with her cousin, Oakley (my friends oc, once she finalizes a design I’ll draw them more).

Oakley’s more “mature” (bc shes 30) but she just is really anxious. Ivy tries to set her up with Leah but they don’t click,,, Oakley ends up falling for chicken man.

Sam introduces Ivy to Seb and instead of Farmer falling for NPC its the other way around Fr.

Seb crushes on Ivy immediately

His first attempt at flirting was like “hey ivy...... wanna see me beat Sam at 8pool for 3 hrs straight?” And Ivy immediately joined Sam’s side and demolished Seb in 8ball.

Ivy ended up hanging out with the ASS trio on a daily.

Seb and Ivy started dating Fall 1 of year 1 after they confessed their feelings for each other during the dance of the moonlight jellies festival

They moved in together 3 days after Seb’s bday

And were married Summer 10

They fast burned this bitch but they are so stupidly in love

In Year 3 Spring Ivy’s other cousin on her moms side became pregnant and chose to give it up for adoption, but beforehand she asked everyone in the family if they wanted a baby

Ivy looked at Seb like 👀

So on Year 3 Winter 1 they brought home their son, Finn

I think this is a classic trope for all Sebastian lovers but he def dresses Finn up in a frog onesie and calls him tadpole !!

Her favorite activity is fishing, that’s how’d she find excuses to hang out with Seb by the lake

She loves making artisan items, especially truffle oil. Oakley prefers large crops and agricultural designing and ivys like fuck yeah mushroom >:D

Milo NoLastName!

Quick Facts About Milo:

Milo was smuggled into Pelican Town by the Traveling Merchant when he was 6 and was taken in by Gil and Marlon.

Gil was 55 and Marlon was 46 when they “adopted” Milo

Gil took the most care of him and Marlon kind of had the attitude of like... a dad when your family pressures him to get a dog. First week their like FINE I GUESS we have to TAKE CARE of HIM. Next week: me and the bestie!

Milo looks up to Gil so much. His favorite brown jacket was Gil’s old one.

Marlon took Milo into the mines when he turned ten as a sort of “coming of age” trip and.... a bat nipped a part of his ear off.

Marlon said it’ll build character

But he was freaking out about it

Gil was upset but got it patched up.

I head canon that Evelyn taught the kids in town before they went off to high school, so four times a week (he’d usually stay home Friday to reset and relax or help out his dads) he’d have to socialize with the others

But he was always a few years older than them so he felt kind of distant

The others in question were Alex, Penny, Sam, Abigail, Sebastian, and Maru

Once he graduated middle school he convinced Gil to let him homeschool so he could find geodes and sell them during most the day.

When he was 17 he finally reached floor 120 of the mines, but on his way climbing back up he got attacked by three squid kids and void spirits, lost his left ear, and blacked out

He was rescued by Marlon, who rushed him home and took care of him

Because Pelican Town didn’t have a doctor at that time, the bus was broken down, all Marlon could do was try and clean up his ear and give him antibiotics and make sure it didn’t become infected

He lost his hearing in that ear

That was the biggest injury he’s gotten so far, but he was grateful when Harvey moved to town

Harvey opened his clinic, fresh faced (ish) at 26 and immediately some scruffed up 24 year old saunters in like “thank GOD ur here dude, here’s fourteen years worth of problems. Good luck.”

It didn’t actually go like that

But

Basically

Milo’s not really a social person, at 25 he discovered he could easily buy a car and drive out to the desert to try his hand at skull cavern. He came prepared but ended up needing emergency surgery that night anyway

He slowly but surely became friends with Sandy and the desert trader. He liked the trader for her prices and Sandy for her kindness.

He also fell in love with....... HARVEY!! (shocker)

Harvey actually fell in love with him first :))

Idiots to lovers slow burn

Hell they’re not even together by the time ivy rolls around and they met like.... 6 years ago??? My god these bitches.....

Pheobe Dy

Quick facts about Pheobe:

Pheobe actually grew up closer to the desert than Zuzu City or pelican town!

Her parents own a decent sized cacti farm and she’d bus into town for school where she met Sandy and Emily!!

I like to believe there’s another town (not as small as Pelican) but close knit in the desert. I hc that Sandy’s shop, skull caverns, and the trader are just like the entry road to a nice desert town

Anyway

She got into fashion and design when Emily pulled her and Sandy into it in sophomore year of high school

Sandy didn’t like it that much and would usually hit glue or staple pieces bc she’d procrastinate the whole time lol

But Pheobe and Em where DEDICATED

they’d hang out after school to design clothing and critique each other’s work (with love, of course)

Pheobe went to college for clothing design with her backup being IT and computer work (another passion of hers)

She started dating Sebastian when she met him during a trip to a small computer repair store in ZuZu city

He thought she was cute so he gave her his number and they met at Stardrop Saloon

She felt a need to like him, not because she was actually attracted to him in any way, but because she was a ~closeted lesbian~

So that relationship didn’t last too long

Ok maybe a little

2 years

But she’s bad at cutting off things, ok?

That’s when she realized she liked her best friends... Sandy and Emily

Emily and Sandy were already in a pretty open relationship by the time Pheobe came around, but it still took her some courage to admit her feelings to them.

They started dating when all three of them were around 26.

Emily moved with her sister Haley to pelican town a year into their relationship, and Sandy and Pheobe followed.

They bought a car so Sandy could maintain her shop in the desert

There is now a house where that garden that Harvey stands in 25/8 is. And Sandy and Pheobe live there. I don’t make the rules.

Pheobe and Emily work together on a small clothing company, they design the clothes together, Emily makes them, Pheobe made a website and uploads them there, and Sandy sells some at her shop :D

The three of them would like to tie the knot one day, but right now they’re super content on where they are, so sometime in the future :)

#long post #stardew valley #stardew valley oc #sodbuster farms #farmer ivy #sdv art #sdv ocs #anyway thanks for coming to my ted talk #Pheobe sdv #Milo sdv #that’s all folks

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justafewsmallsteps · 5 years ago

Photo

Happy InuKag Week 2020, Day 6! It’s been literal years, but here’s finally Part 2 of The Problem With Thinking, my Inuyasha High School AU. Lots of love going out to @coquinespike for all the encouragement. Thanks for your patience! It’d probably be better to reread Part 1 (no big edits, but because it’s been SO LONG) but honestly it’s not a huge deal if you don’t. Lots of fluff. I’m sorry I can only offer the same bland AU over and over. Please forgive me and leave comments in the notes anyways?

So the fight was officially over and now they stood there holding each other. It was so intimate that it made the tips of his ears feel hot with embarrassment. Hard to believe that just this morning he was still avoiding her, yet now she was practically molded up against him, and there wasn’t a single part of him that wanted her to move away.

He was hyper aware that Kagome was so very close—closer than she’d ever been before. It was new territory. With their reconciliation, the bridge he thought he’d burn reassembled itself anew, and they’d crossed a line somewhere. What line, he couldn’t be sure.

A new burning filled Inuyasha’s chest, a fire that wanted to engulf her entirely. He’d missed her so much, and being away from her had drained him like a dying battery. He’d felt so tired, so void of any energy or drive, so… lonely. Now she was here, right here, and his whole body was thrumming with the desire to grab her tightly and hold on, to bask in her warm presence like a spring field finally coming out of winter’s harsh cold.

He saw the same look of longing reflected in her eyes. They were magnets kept apart until now.

He forced himself to speak, though his heavy tongue and heart protested the words as he spoke, “I should get you home.”

The sky was getting darker by the second. Her house was just down the street, but he’d worry too much if he let her go by herself. Besides, it was an excuse to stay by her side for a while longer.

“Are you trying to get rid of me?”she asked with a hurt tone.

“What? No!” Inuyasha yelped. The opposite! He coughed and looked off to the side. There was no decent way to explain how he was afraid that the more she stayed by him, the harder it would become to let her go even though they only lived a block apart. He’d cut her off so thoroughly from his life, and now he realized it was like denying himself oxygen. How had he survived?

“Inuyasha?” She gripped his hands again to pull him from his thoughts.

“Huh?” he noised dumbly.

“C-can I…” Kagome wracked her short-circuiting brain for an excuse, any excuse to stay longer. “I don’t want to go home looking like this.”

“What?” You look fine, he thought.

She bit her lip. “Since my face is all puffy and my eyes are red. I don’t want Mama or Jii-chan to worry.”

“O-oh. You… Do you want to come up?” His eyes suddenly opened wide. “Not if you’re uncomfortable with that! I could get you a… wet towel or something.”

“It's okay. I’m fine with going up.” Kagome fought a blush.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded firmly, if only to keep from jumping up and down in glee. Success! How obvious would that be?

He replied with a stiff nod back. He swiftly turned around, dropping one hand from her grip but holding on with the other to lead her into the building. Their palms and fingers felt as if they’d fused together like hot glass. It was weird to imagine they’d have to come apart anytime soon.

As they walked past the metal gate and into the complex, Kagome’s eyes wandered to drink in the unfamiliar territory, but also to keep occupied. There was a tension in the air—some shy but persistent heat that sealed their mouths shut. Inuyasha was looking straight ahead avoiding looking at her, but she couldn’t bring herself to do much differently than him. The fact loomed upon them: they were going to be in his apartment… alone. It was very new for them, and they’d only just gotten their problems solved. Her heart raced. She’d just found out she was in love with him. Maybe asking to come up was a bad idea.

Before she could think else of it, Inuyasha finished turning the key to his door. It opened with a small push, sending her stomach to do a cartwheel. The darkness inside fed her curiosity despite her nerves. She followed him in as the lights flickered on. Humble. Quiet.

It’s not like he has anyone to greet, she remembered. There weren’t decorations or frills—just the basic necessities.

Kagome removed her shoes, noticing how awkward it felt to do so with one free hand. Still, she had no intention of letting go.

“Uh, the… bathroom is over there.” Inuyasha gave a directional head gesture that had his ears twitch. “Is there anything you need?”

Her eyes dropped down to their locked hands. With a strange sense of concentration, she loosened her grip—at least she thought she did. It didn’t budge.

“Oh.” Inuyasha noticed the problem.

A voice yelled in his head. You’re an idiot. You can’t follow her in there! Let go!

With the care and hesitation of unwrapping a bandage, he moved his fingers to uncurl from hers. It felt like pulling apart linked chains. Their palms slid past each other, fingers sweeping to the tips. He would have let it go, but the slightest hint of uncertain, lingering pressure from Kagome had him stop in his tracks.

They froze. His eyes flickered to her blushing face, and he felt her fingertips squeeze his.

“In—“

The next second he yanked her close—his earlier desire to do so finally sated. He grasped the back of her head while his other hand wrapped around her wrist. Her contact against him felt like finally gulping air after drowning.

“Inuyasha?” the girl gasped.

Shit. He’d acted on instinct when he grabbed her. He had no idea what to say, and he felt the embarrassment bubble fast to the surface. She felt nice though, and he couldn’t deny that.

Kagome’s face pressed against Inuyasha’s chest, her mind drawing blanks as her cheek felt the heat of his skin beneath his T-shirt. His heart was racing, just like hers. It was reassuring.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. He shifted the hand in her hair, letting the smell of lavender shampoo and Kagome’s natural scent fill his home.

Kagome’s free hand came up to hold him back gently, and she realized she’d been aching to do this since she laid eyes on him: to hold him in her arms, to pour out her affection, to be close.

“It’s fine,” she whispered, running her palm soothingly up and down a short length.

Inuyasha reflexively pushed her closer in an attempt to keep from shivering at her touch.

Her heart was still beating rapidly. How else was she supposed to feel when the boy she loved was hugging her so sweetly? It took a while, but after a few moments of silence, Kagome relaxed enough to speak.

“Inuyasha?” She squeezed him a little, somehow already comfortable with touching him so intimately. Funny, but it just felt right being close to him.

“Hm?”

She allowed herself to sink against his body, letting him hold up more of her weight. “Have you been doing all your homework?” It was a familiar question, bringing a sense of normalcy back to their dynamic.

“Uh…” he hesitated.

“Inuyasha…”

“I’ve been doing enough,” he responded vaguely. It was the truth, but he knew she wouldn’t like the answer.

Kagome clicked her tongue in disapproval. “That sounds like you’ve been slacking…”

“I got lazy without your naggin’.” Lazy. Frustrated. Uninspired. Angry. Depressed. Who was he kidding? When he wasn’t moping around he was trying his best not to punch walls.

The girl sighed. “I’ve been distracted too, so I’m not one to talk… Though I’m going to blame that on you.”

He scoffed, but the sound was soft. “You gettin’ all worked up over me…” Never mind that he’d been the same.

She poked him in the shoulder blade and dug her finger into it as a small jab. “Don’t be a jerk. I missed you a lot, dummy. I wouldn’t be here otherwise, looking like a total mess.”

In seriousness, he apologized. “I’m sorry.”

The sincerity of it brought tears rushing to her eyes so quickly she was defenseless against them. She was completely caught off guard, but if he was going to be that honest then she’d follow suit.

“Don’t do that to me again,” she had to whisper in a rush to keep her voice from faltering. If it sounded like a plea instead of a reprimand, there was nothing she could do about it.

“I won’t,” he swore. “I… please don’t cry Kagome. I can’t stand it. You know that. I don’t know what to do.”

“Just don’t be an idiot again.”

He held his tongue and let her calm down. His hand kept rubbing soothing circles against her back.

“Were you eating properly?” She finally sniffled with a frown.

“I ate. Not what you’d call ‘properly’ though.”

“You can’t just have three packs of ramen when you get home from school.”

“I can and definitely did.”

Again, she sighed. “We should go to the grocery store together. And I need to teach you how to actually cook.”

“I can fend for myself fine,” he retorted. After a beat he added, “But if you want to come over and make food, I’m not going to stop you.”

“I’d cook for you everyday if only to keep you from high blood pressure.” She pulled away in time to catch the shock on his face, and realized then that her words sounded like a proposal, like she could commit to taking care of him for the rest of her life. She felt mortified. It was too close to a confession!

“You would?” Inuyasha felt embarrassment splash him in the face like cold water.

“No! I mean, yes, but I didn’t mean that I… you… you know? I just want you to eat balanced meals! That’s all I meant, okay?”

Normally he would retort her sweet sentiment with something brash. He was marvelously good at ruining the moment. Instead he was frozen, looking at the girl in front of him with affection seizing his whole being like lightning, strong and inescapable. He was helpless as it coursed through every nerve in his body.

His silence had Kagome fidgeting.

“Inuyasha?”

He couldn’t move. He opened his mouth and closed it repeatedly, no words forming whatsoever like a dumb fish gaping for food. The idea of Kagome cooking him a meal… of her setting down plates, of her coming home to him… every day for the rest of his life…

The girl’s cheeks flared indignantly at his lack of response; heart thrumming nervously because it wasn’t a true confession, but it had the tone of something so much more—something akin to promising forever. She couldn’t take his surprised expression locked onto her so intensely, so she shoved her face into his shirt to avoid his gaze. Her hands gripped at his sleeves. She shook his arms hoping for a reaction and cried out, “Don’t just stand there staring at me! You have to say something, you dummy!”

He really should say something, he knew, but nothing was coming to his head. Nothing except Kagome, over and over again. Her in his kitchen, her walking down the road by his side, her eating meals with him everyday… When she told him to let her stay by his side, Inuyasha didn’t consider the actual depth of it. He’d simply taken it at face value. If she wanted to be around him, she’d decide that. The thought of her being there for him daily triggered something heavy to lock itself into place. It felt like she’d smacked an old machine and the gears finally fit themselves together. The realization came to him then.

He was in love with her.

Kagome felt his hold on her slacken. “Inuyasha?” she tried again, with a miserable tone to her voice. She was still mortified.

He released his steady hold on her wrist. Then he pried her hand gently away from his shirt, slowly easing his fingers between hers. The action was enough to get her to pull herself back. He’d never been very tender before.

His gaze was molten hot against hers, burning maybe, but she was caught in it like sweet, sticky honey. Her chest panged with how much she loved him. Couldn’t she just… reach up and show him? She tightened her fingers entwined with his. God, that felt so right. Her hand belonged in his.

“Kagome…” Her name was meant for his mouth.

Oh, he was so attractive, and she’d missed him so much. If she could somehow wrap herself up in him she would. His tentative grip firmed, lifting her hand closer. Her eyelids lowered while the rest of her body tilted up, up, and towards him.

Inuyasha was enamored. His entire world was swirling around Kagome as if she was the center of the universe. She very well might be, with him caught in her gravitational pull. He closed his eyes and saw black—and then he saw a star; faint and twinkling behind his eyelids, like the uncertain pressure lingering sweetly against his lips.

Then it was gone.

Slightly dazed, he opened his eyes to a blushing Kagome shying back from her kiss. Damn if he didn’t want to pull her to him again. A ‘wait, come back,’ on the edge of his tongue.

As if asking for permission, Kagome tugged at his sleeve and steadied her gaze on his mouth. He wanted to smile at her obvious signals, but a prick of paranoia had him stop her from moving towards him.

“Wait…” He watched as her courage was drained from her face and tried quickly to assure her. “It’s not that I don’t want to, I… I didn’t mean for this to happen when I asked you up, you know.”

“I know that,” she responded earnestly.

“Right…” he turned to look at the floor, trying to sift through his clouding thoughts gathering and darkening like a storm.

“So what’s the problem?”

“I mean, you know. That stuff,”

“The ‘stuff’ that people who don’t know anything say?” she asked.

“Well they ain’t that off if we keep at it,” he replied dryly, but there was a blush on his face. He’s just been kissed by Kagome Higurashi, the most beautiful, wonderful girl in the world. She would’ve done it again if he hadn’t held her back.

“Look, I don’t care. This is what I want. Do you…” she bit her lip unsurely and his knees almost buckled in, “Do you want this?”

Do you want me? Her eyes, clear and bright as a mid-summer day, seemed to ask him.

“Of course I do…” he confessed. There was more he wanted to say on the matter, or rather, more doubts that wouldn’t stop surfacing, but in the next moment Kagome had her mouth back on his, pushing his thoughts down to drown. He let them die there. Instead he let his world become so full of her that nothing else fit, and he’d never felt more put together than he was now, overflowing with her.

Kissing Inuyasha was something she’d dreamt about a lot lately, but not a fantasy she’d thought would come to fruition. It was different than she’d imagined, her body awkwardly stiff yet her heart soaring.

Attached, was the first word that came to Kagome’s mind.

That was how people described how Kagome felt about Inuyasha. She was fond of him. She had a soft spot for him. She was irrevocably and inexplicably attached to him. Now that they were kissing, she uncovered a new sense of meaning to that word. She’d been so attached to him that his absence felt like pulling her seams apart. Kissing him now was sewing them back together, but she still wanted to be closer. She stretched up on her feet higher, pressing her lips harder against his. Her goal was more, but of what, she wasn’t sure. More Inuyasha, somehow, in any and every capacity seemed to be the only answer. Her hands moved up his arms, slowly feeling the worn fabric of his shirt beneath her palms. Her cheeks flared with a new blush feeling the muscles beneath. She wasn’t just attached; she was attracted; she was in love. She loved him so much that it burned from her lungs to her lips.

Their mouths parted, and he huffed her name into the hot air between them. It was a match that set her ablaze. She intended to engulf him, so she kissed him harder. She wrapped her arms around the boy’s neck and drew him in close to her, wobbling between standing on her toes and back onto her heels.

Sensing her imbalance, Inuyasha tugged her by the waist to steady them both, but it had searing consequences as her body pressed into his. He heard her react with a sharp inhale and he hissed in response to her. So this is what happened when you got close to the sun, huh? He wasn’t melting, but he was burning everywhere they touched, and she scorched her way through him like a wildfire. They were moving so quickly his mind was whirling.

Kagome tilted her head, and Inuyasha felt the foreign sensation of her wet tongue swiping against his lip.

“Holy shit,” he cursed, and Kagome immediately pulled back startled.

“Sorry! I don’t—”

“No, it’s fine,” he muttered with winded effort. He took a moment to breathe, noticing Kagome’s chest similarly took deep rises and falls. The reality of what had just occurred between them settled in his mind. He wasn’t sure what to do next, but he wanted to continue.

“Was I… Did I go too fast or do something wrong?” She sounded so out of breath that his head spun.

“’Course you did nothing wrong,” he whined, putting his face in his hand and closing his eyes. He was more turned on than he’d ever imagined possible, and it was making him dizzy. “Just surprised me there.”

“Oh,” Kagome finally squeaked in response. She self-consciously folded in one herself.

He peaked through his fingers at the girl only to see her looking shyly down at the ground. Her kissed lips were set in a puffy little pout and her cheeks were a warm pink. Inuyasha groaned. She was beautiful and he was such a sap for her.

He was devastatingly in love with her. And he kissed her! And she kissed him back! And more!

He was having a hard time believing this was real.

“Maybe we did go kinda fast,” he admitted. He just couldn’t wrap his head around this whole thing. When did his life make a 180? Was he dreaming? When did his dreams ever get this good?

“Sorry,” Kagome mumbled.

Inuyasha sighed and lowered his hand. “Quit apologizing.” He tucked his finger under her chin to get him to look at her, but found the vulnerability behind her eyes almost too much to bear. He swallowed to fight the blush staining his face. “Just… gimme a sec, okay?”

Kagome nodded into his hand. He moved his face forward and pressed his forehead against hers, feeling her heat radiate against his skin. She was too much for him, he knew. He closed his eyes and tried to calm himself down—mind and body. He felt Kagome do the same, slowly relaxing into regular breaths.

This is real…

Delicately shifting, he pressed his lips to hers again, feeling her seize and then press into him. The awkwardness set back in, but they pushed through it and felt it out until it slowly melted away. He felt her exhales as sweet, warm puffs of air. They stayed like that for a while until Inuyasha took his hand and slid it to hold her cheek. He opened his mouth slightly and tilted his head to deepen their kiss. Kagome followed suit, letting him set the pace. They kept going, pushing lips together, adjusting, readjusting, and getting comfortable.

He felt her adorable eager little jump as he pulled her face closer, her hand coming up to grasp his shirt in a steadying motion. It was a swift pump to his ego to know she wanted this and was probably holding back.

He was getting turned on all over again, but it wasn’t as sudden as before. He took his time adjusting to each step forward, but Kagome didn’t make it all that easy with little gasps and the sweetest taste he’d ever experienced.

He’d always thought kissing was a gross concept. He wasn’t keen on saliva or using tongues, but the instant he felt hers on his lips he was convinced it was more than okay. Sure, it shocked him, but it felt good. Too good, at that moment, but now… Now he enjoyed the slight pressure of her sucking on his bottom lip, and the tease of her teeth as she did so. He enjoyed doing the same, shocking sensations prickling his spine with each new discovery. She was infinitely patient and understanding, letting him set their pace, and following suit.

Tentatively, Inuyasha sucked in a breath and dared to sweep his tongue against Kagome’s lips. He felt her eagerly part her mouth, inviting him to try again. This time he had taken the lead, but tremors still passed through his body as he tasted her, yet he was determined for more. She moved her arms up to wrap around his neck and pull him down. She must have been standing on her toes for a long time, he remembered. Kagome was petite, and he was over a foot taller if he stood up straight.

Ideas flash in his mind—making out on the floor, on a couch, him lifting her up to the counter… Oh damn. So much for calming down.

He grabbed her hips and moved her back just a bit, away from his lower body. It was achingly difficult to do so, since every part of him was screaming for contact with her.

She broke their kiss with a gasp.

“I should maybe think about getting home soon.”

A little more than dazed, Inuyasha did his best to recalibrate his brain. He felt the blood slowly making its way back there, but for now all his thoughts were hazy. Kagome. Home. Her house.

“Right…”

“And I should also still wash up my face.”

“Right…”

She giggled then, likely because he was still in a hormone-induced stupor. “I’ll be right back,” she assured him with a quick kiss to his cheek that left him feeling tingly. Then she was off to his bathroom.

As the door clicked shut and the buzzing sound of the restroom light came on, Inuyasha blinked himself back to reality. And it hit him hard enough that he had to sit down. He replayed the whole night in his head, wondering how the hell he’d gotten to this point. It was another miserable Friday punctuating a shitty week of dodging her at school. He got home feeling like garbage, only appreciating the weekend as a reprieve from having Kagome’s scent peppered in the air of the hallways and classrooms. His apartment was the one place he could lock himself away and not be haunted by her. But then the buzz came from the gate, and then her broken voice pleaded through the phone.

He came down just to end it once and for all. No more texts. He’d just have to scare her off and be done with it, but she was stubborn. She’d never let him push her around, so why did he expect her to let him push her away without a fight? She clung to him, dug into him, broke his resolve with her sad and angry tears. She’d missed him too. What did he do to deserve her?

A whine pushed its way past his throat, just in time for Kagome to walk out of the bathroom and shoot him a concerned look.

“You okay?”

It was weird, seeing her in his apartment like this, so casually as if she belonged there. She did, as far as he was concerned.

Filled with a new sense of determination and longing, he stood up resolutely and made his way to her. Before she could ask another question, he scooped her up in his arms and kissed her fully on the mouth. She gave an initial squeak of shock, but quickly accepted the new position, once again putting her arms around him.

“I missed you,” he admitted quickly before his unfounded resolve melted away.

“I just washed my face,” she teased as he lowered her back to her feet.

Incredulous he stammered, “That’s not what I—!”

“I know,” she interrupted. Kagome smiled, and Inuyasha’s annoyance vanished. “You don’t have to miss me anymore.”

#inukag week 2020 #inukag week #inuyasha #kagome higurashi #inukag #high school au #jelly art #jelly fic #justafewsmallsteps

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be-the-spark-flyboy · 4 years ago

Text

Hard Feelings

Call It What You Want (8/?)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader

A/N: this slow burn is annoying even me

Chapter Summary: Thank god for Rey

Warnings: swearing, sed Poe

Word count: ~2k

It isn’t the ideal weather for a walk but Beebee seems thrilled at the prospect despite the cold. His tiny boot-clad paws pattering alongside Poe, forever his loyal companion. The park isn’t completely void of human traffic, though it’s a lot busier when it is warmer.

Poe finds a seat far enough from the road and the sound of traffic while Beebee happily traipses through the frozen ground looking for stray twigs and running in circles chasing his tail. Poe watches him play, entirely in his own world.

Poe started the day feeling anxious about talking to you. Then he was disappointed that he couldn’t get you to meet up with him. He was mad at himself for kissing you instead of telling you that he broke up with his now ex-girlfriend first. Now after seeing you with Ben is he supposed to be mad at you for letting him kiss you? It hurt seeing you with Ben and all the resentment he felt was directed towards him and not you.

Who’s to be blamed for this? What was he supposed to do now? How was he supposed to feel? If there was one clear emotion he felt atop of everything else, that would be confusion.

Poe whips out his phone, dialling the one person that could make him feel better. It doesn’t take long for his dad to pick up the phone.

If only there weren’t so many miles between them. The distance isn’t new to him. Poe spent so many years of his life wishing he wasn’t so far from his dad, wishing he could just run to him whenever he wanted to instead of settling for a phone call. But that never stopped him from seeking out comfort from Kes Dameron.

The first question he asks once Poe greets him is, “What’s wrong, Poe?” Looks like nothing escapes his dad’s notice. Is he that transparent? It must be the years of experience dealing with his constant moods over the phone. Poe sighs, rubbing his temples with his free hand.

“Nothing. It’s just, there’s just a lot going on,” he answers. “How are you?” Kes recognizes the weariness in his son’s voice right away. It isn’t the first time he’s hearing it.

“I’m fine, just had lunch,” Kes begins to tell him about his day then quickly launches into a story about how a few people from his work covered his coworker’s car with post-it notes as a prank a few days ago.

His voice feels like a warm embrace in the unforgiving cold. Suddenly Poe is taken back to his childhood home, sitting by the fireplace watching with rapt attention as his father spun tales about anything and everything.

In his presence, nothing could harm him. Nothing could stand against Kes Dameron’s dogged determination to make his loved ones happy. The events of his day slowly become a distant memory in Poe’s mind as he laughs along with his dad.

“Better now?” Kes asks after a while.

“Yeah, thanks dad,” He did feel better.

“You still don’t wanna talk about it?”

“Not right now, no,” Maybe not ever, he thinks. Would it be so bad to just forget about everything?

“I’m here if there’s anything you need, okay?” Kes offers. His words bring a smile to Poe’s face.

“I know dad, I love you,” Not the worse day. He’s had worse before, he was fine.

Beebee nudges his feet as he hangs up, bored of playing with stray twigs by himself. Or maybe he was just cold. Poe lifts the corgi onto his lap, tucking him into his jacket, his head adorably jutting out. Beebee headbutts him on the chin.

“Looks like I need a shave, huh?” Poe asks him. “Actually, I think I’m gonna let it grow out a bit more,” He says, running his palm over his face, the light stubble grazing against his palm. Beebee looks up at him, tilting his head to one side as if he was pondering it.

“You think that’s a good idea?” Beebee lets out a small yip in response. “Yeah? Okay, then. I guess we’re growing a beard,”

—-

Poe never texted you after. It had been a few days since the kiss you really wanted to forget about but couldn’t. But you still needed to talk to Poe. You didn’t want to avoid him forever, neither could you pretend like nothing happened especially after running out of the house like that. You figured that he’d want to meet you some other time but he never texted again.

You think about asking Rey about him when she comes over in a few minutes. She’d help you. But you’d have to tell her about kissing Poe, assuming Poe hadn’t already told the two of them, which seemed impossible.

You use the remaining few minutes to tidy up a few things around the house, trying not to think too hard about anything. It was just Rey, she is your friend, she will help you.

At the sound of the doorbell, Jessika springs up from her seat to get to the door. “Rey!” You hear them enthusiastically embrace, having not seen each other since the new year's party.

“We getting pizza, or do you guys want something else?” You ask and you get a chorus of agreement as a reply.

“I got us some wine,” Rey grins, pulling out two bottles from her bag.

Two hours and two large pizzas later, the three of you sit squeezed together in the couch, a movie droning in the background that none of you pays attention to. The alcohol draws more giggles from you as you sip wine from ceramic mugs, well into the second bottle by the time you finish your dinner.

Jessika animatedly recounts the story of how she saw the most attractive person in the world in the coffee shop that morning. Having already heard that particular story always twice, your attention slips away to your earlier dilemma. The wine certainly boosts your confidence ‘cause you’re sure you never would’ve gotten the words out if you were sober, but you dive headfirst into the question without any warning.

“Did Poe, um, tell you anything about the other night?” You hesitantly ask her just as Jessika finishes her story, absentmindedly picking at a thread on the blanket. “You know when you were at the dentist and I came over?”

“Before you say anything, I need to tell you that Poe broke up with Sarah weeks ago,” Rey interrupts you before you start on a downward spiral talking a million miles per hour. She’s glad you brought it up, because how was she supposed to ask you if you kissed her childhood best friend/ roommate?

You remain eerily silent for the while after whispering an oh at the revelation. Weeks ago? Long before he kissed you. Why didn’t he just tell you that? Oh, wait, because you ran out of the house after that and avoided him. You certainly owe him an apology.

Normally Rey is content sitting back and watching the drama unfold in people’s lives around her. But this was two people she really cares about, running circles around each other. Technically, meddling is justified if the parties involved were both dumbasses, right? And the only possible way to do that was to throw all the facts out in the open, hoping it would clear some things for you and at the same time try not exposing Poe too much.

“The guys saw you and Ben the other day at the diner. They had to leave before they could say hi, though,” Rey tells you.

“Oh,” That was something you didn’t expect her to say. “You know Ben?” You ask voicing out the first question in your mind.

“Yeah, he’s Poe’s godmother’s son,”

“Oh!” You suddenly exclaim. “He is Ben. It’s the same person! Ben Solo is Leia Organa’s son?” Rey nods laughing at your surprise. “I didn’t think he was that Ben, you know because they don’t have the same last name,”

“Are you dating him?” She asks.

“What? No. We’re just friends,”

“She’s not dating Ben, she’s meant to be with Poe!” Jessika cries out, dramatically flopping over the backrest

“Shut up, Jess,” you groan as Rey joins her, cackling. A thought hits you from nowhere all of a sudden. One you don’t like all that much.

“Does Poe think I’m with Ben?” Rey answers with a high-pitched, drawn-out, ‘maaaaybe?’ and you want to crash your head against the greasy pizza box. “I’m too sober for this,” You settle for draining the remaining wine from your cup instead.

“Why do they hate each other that much anyway?” You ask after a while. Sure, Poe mentioned some childhood animosity between him and Ben. But it looked like it was much more than that.

“Oh honey, you need more wine for that,” Jessika pours more into your cup, refilling hers and Rey’s as well. Of course, Jess would know. You would’ve asked if you weren’t too busy trying to stomp down your feelings for Poe.

“Sarah cheated on Poe with Ben,” Rey casually responds.

You splutter into your cup, almost choking on the liquid. “What?” Rey nods solemnly.

That was just great. Now you have to explain to the guy you like that you are not dating the guy whom his ex cheated on him with. And Ben. What was he thinking?

“How did that happen?” You ask.

“Well, it was early in their relationship,” Rey shrugs. “She convinced Poe not to dump her sorry ass after that,”

“Jesus,” You breathe. No wonder everyone hates her so much. “Oh god, what do I do now?”

---

“Stop that,” Snap nudges Poe who ignored him and continues to click his pen incessantly against his notebook. “You’re fucking annoying, what’s the matter with you today?” Poe tosses his pen on the table.

“It’s nothing,” He replies half heartedly. Snap knows that isn’t the case. He knew the last time his mood was this sour. But he was no longer dating Sarah, so...

“Is it Ben again?” Poe’s eyes immediately flicks up to the man in question sitting a few rows before him, shooting a withering glare to the back of his head. That is answer enough for Snap.

“What did he do this time?” The question comes from behind Poe this time as Kare leans forward between the two of them.

“It’s none of your business, Kare,” Snap tries to shoo her away. “And you two should pay attention, I’m not sharing my notes with you again,”

“Shut up, I’m not talking to you,” She waves him off, directing her attention back to Poe as Snap rolls his eyes at her. Poe angles himself to face her as he tells them both about what he saw at the diner.

“That doesn’t really mean she like him, right? She kissed you,” Snap interrupts.

“I thought you were paying attention to the lecture?” Kare snaps at him.

“Shut up, I’m not talking to you,” Children, Poe thinks.

“She was wearing his jacket,” He continues, ignoring their bickering. “And she blew me off to go get lunch with him,” he shrugs. “It adds up,”

“Do ya’ll mind? Some of us come here to study,” Hux sharply interrupts from beside him, looking down his nose at the three of them. Signature sneer on his pasty face.

“Sorry Hugs,” Poe drawls, turning to the front.

He manages a few productive minutes of actually paying attention before his phone chimes in his pocket earning another glare from Hux. He rolls his eyes, pulling his phone from his pocket to switch it to silent. Then the notification catches his eyes. You texted him. Curiosity gets the best of him and he opens it.

Hey, sorry I couldn’t make It for lunch the other day. Would you like to go today?

Did he want to anymore? He had half a mind to blow you off. That may be a little petty but it definitely sounded appealing. Poe places his phone back in his pocket. He’ll just text you after class.

—-

The Dameron taglist (open): @writefightandflightclub @arkofblake @yougottakeeponkeepinon @multifandomlife22 @skymerons @smol-peter-parker @rae-rae-patcha @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol @spider-starry @hkmultifandom @cloud-leader @elmoakepoke @staringmoony @valhallavalkyrie9 @the-cry-of-youth @liadamerondjarin @m1rkw00dpr1ncess @takemepedropascal @xremember-me-notx @softly-sad @loserbelle @littleeuphoriaelf @missmadwoman @gottalovethefandom @seejayyou

#poe dameron #poe x reader #poe dameron au #poe dameron x reader #poe #poe fic

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teawithkpop · 5 years ago

Text

[M] - PhysCom - Pt 5

pt 1 - pt 2 - pt 3 - bc 1 - pt 4 - pt 5 - pt 6

Pairing: BTS - OT7 x Reader

Rating: Mature [18+]

Length: 9.1k words

Genre: PhysCom AU - smut with dashes of angst, and a shitload of romance and complicated feelings,, uhuhu (porn with plot??)

Warnings: mentions of sexual acts, swearing, mentions of sexual abuse/manipulation, mentions of non-consensual sex - (these are both mentioned very briefly in the chapter and do not center around any of our main characters, but please be cautious if this is a sensitive topic for you!)

*meme voice* ah shit, here we go again.

thank you everyone for your patience regarding this update!! <3 I appreciate you for waiting patiently and for all your love in the meantime! I hope you enjoy ^^

-------

"Please, will you take this vacation?"

You stare at Namjoon, at the desperation written on his face as he begs you to accept his offer, and a war wages within your heart.

On the one hand, you have no good reason to believe him, not after you’d heard him and his members discussing you behind your back like they did. The key could be a fake, his little theory could be a ruse to let your guard down so you won’t put up a fight when he finally sends you packing.

On the other hand, you’ve never had reason to doubt Namjoon up until an hour ago. He seems to have always looked out for you, always appreciated your work. This could be a genuine plea for your cooperation in a bigger picture, like he claims.

But the shadow of doubt still covers you. The sound of him and his boys squabbling so carelessly, taking a vote on your future. You can’t let that memory go so easily.

“Never trust your client. They will only betray you in the end.” The words of Madame run through your mind again, as if confirming your fears.

You want to believe Namjoon. But you need to protect yourself before anything else.

You slowly break away from his grasp, taking the key and tucking it into a pocket on your belt. “Kim Namjoon...” you say, your eyes cast downwards.

He seems more relaxed now that you’ve taken his peace offering, and he tilts his head to the side, listening intently. “Yes?”

Your brain claws desperately at a strategy, at anything you could use as leverage. But all you have are words. What can you say? What protection do you have left? You’re putting yourself at his mercy.

“During my time in this house... I have learned many things about you and your members. Things I don’t think you want the public to find out about.” Lies. He knows it. You know it. The only secrets you know are their kinks, which aren’t exactly damning to their characters. Even if you did have dirt on them, who would listen to you?

You continue, though your voice sounds uncertain, even to your own ears. “If you’re lying to me about any of this, then I swear... I’ll do what I have to, and... ensure that you pay for your mistake.” You try to imbue strength and determination into your words, but your heart isn’t in it, and you’re sure he can tell. You can’t even meet his eyes. You have no fight left in you. You’re like a frightened animal that’s been backed into a corner.

Fuck. You’re just so tired of this, of everything. You’ve been through too much recently with not even a moment to catch your breath, and you’re just… exhausted. You’ve tried, you really have. You’ve done your best, you’ve gone down swinging. But you can’t do it anymore, it’s all too much...

You feel numb as Namjoon wraps you into his arms. When did he come over to your side of the table? You don’t remember, you can’t think clearly.

“It’s okay.” Namjoon’s breath is warm against your cheek. “You can rest now.”

Can he read your mind? You must look so pathetic, your body shaking as he holds you tightly, like you might float away.

But right now, you don’t care. He’s seen you at your worst already. You choke on a quiet sob and your fingers twitch, longing to reach up and hold him, to reciprocate...

“Alright, has everything been sorted?” Yeji’s arrival carries away those ideas, and Namjoon pulls away from you with a gentle pat to your shoulder.

“I believe it has,” he says, and he stands up to greet her as the two of them start to wrap up the details of your agreement. Their words turn to buzzing as the rest of the meeting passes by in a blur. You're too dazed to pay attention, too numb to feel anything but a vague sense of resignation as papers are signed, handshakes are given, and your fate is placed in his hands.

Before you know it, you’re back up in your room again. Whatever farewell that Namjoon had probably wished you as you shut the door had fallen on deaf ears. You can’t process anything more right now.

-------

The first few hours of your sentence pass by in silence, tears slowly trickling down your face as you lay on your bed. Your brain slowly works through its state of catastrophe. Dimly, you worry that you might never pick up all the pieces. Some have blown away in the recent whirlwind of disaster, some are stained, irreparable, all of them worn from being taped and glued back together, over and over again.

You feel broken.

Is this what they wanted? To break you?

You roll over onto your other side, uselessly wiping the tears from your face as fresh ones spring to your eyes to replace them.

You know, somewhere inside yourself, that you can’t just sit here and throw a pity party all week. But damn it, it’s been a while.

You just need a little time. Soon, you’ll be back on your feet, you tell yourself. You’ll bounce back, just like always. You’ve never failed before.

But what if you do? What if you fail yourself, fail the boys? Fail your family, yet again? You want to curl up and never move for the rest of your life. The craggy void of failure at your feet has you nearly paralyzed, afraid to misstep. Afraid to get that last strike and finally be sent home.

You groan. You’re so exhausted and frustrated of picking yourself apart like this. There's no point in agonizing over what ifs.

You’re here. You’ve arrived at rock bottom. Now the question is where to go?

It feels eerily calm as you sit up in bed and survey your surroundings. No noise pierces the utter stillness of your bedroom apart from your own breathing. It’s stifling.

By now, it has to have been at least a full day since you came upstairs, right? You feel like you’ve been laying on this bed for ages. You grab your ComGear to check the time, and whimper in despair.

It’s only noon. About two hours since the meeting.

After another brief bout of agony at this revelation, you take a second look at the screen and are surprised to see over a hundred notifications. You expect it to be due to the group chat, but a fair amount of them are actually from your clients. You don’t bother to open each conversation, but merely look over their previews - the most recent messages they sent you.

[ Kim Seokjin ]: please try to get some rest, alright? [ Jung Hoseok ]: I’m sorry… truly. please enjoy your time off. [ Park Jimin ]: just let me know! ^^; [ Kim Namjoon ]: Promise. [ Min Yoongi ]: you know where to find me [ Kim Taehyung ]: enjoy your vacation, jagiya~ ♡ [ Jeon Jungkook ]: are you coming down for lunch?

All of them messaged you, but it doesn’t make you feel any better. It hurts to see them pretend like everything’s fine and see if that makes it better somehow. It looks like most of them didn’t even try to apologize for what they did to you. Maybe you really aren’t that important to them after all.

Could they see through your attempts to befriend them all this time? Did all of their kindness to you mean nothing? Is that how they treat all of their employees?

You feel tears threatening again, and you wish you had a friend to talk to about all this.

Then it occurs to you that maybe… you do.

You flick over to the group chat, where you see that the other PhysComs are now talking about some webtoon and sending memes to each other. You tap on Sascha’s profile again. The same page greets you, the same blank profile picture and call button as before.

Yeji had said that the chat was real. If that's true, then the people in it must be who they claim they are, right? You do trust Yeji’s word, but you need to find out for yourself. You’ll never be able to fully accept this undercover group chat as a reliable resource until you know for sure.

Hey, if you’re suspended anyway, what’s the harm right? What are they going to do, fire you?

You bark out a sob of a laugh, and your finger hits the button before you can stop yourself. Yes, this might be a bad idea, and yes, you shouldn’t risk putting yourself out there on the hope that it’ll connect you to a friend, but you need to know the truth. You’ll feel better if you know that there’s still someone in this world that truly understands you.

It rings. And rings.

As the ominous buzzing stretches on through the silence, your worry starts to return. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. If the chat room is somehow compromised, you might have just given yourself away, someone high up in the industry could be tracking your location at this very moment from your cell signal or something, or maybe-

“Hello?” Sascha’s voice rings clear as a bell through the phone, and you almost start crying right then and there with relief.

“Sascha?” You can barely utter her name as all your memories of training together hit you like a sucker punch in your already fragile state.

“Oh! Hey, sweetie! How’s it going?” she replies in her chipper way, a smile in her tone.

“... It’s really you,” you whisper, pressing your fist to your pursed lips to keep your emotions at bay. “Sasch.”

“Of course it’s me, silly goose.” Her laugh is bright and airy, just like you remember it. “Who else would it be?”

You wait a beat, scouring your mind for a test to prove your paranoia wrong, just in case. “What… what did I give to you on our last day together?” You ask imperatively, waiting with bated breath for her answer.

It was not something either of you would easily forget, though most people probably would. It’s also the best test you can think of, as anyone else would assume such an important day would go hand in hand with a meaningful keepsake or an important gift.

“A sandwich,” she laughs. “Pastrami and mustard on rye. You shared it with me to celebrate reaching our target weight that month. Though you never let me pay you back. I would have preferred ham, you know.”

Your shoulders visibly relax. It’s Sascha, all right. Compliments and complaints in the same breath. It’s as if hearing her voice, hearing the confirmation that it’s really her, turns on a faucet inside you that had long since dried up.

“Sascha… so much has happened.”

You didn’t fully realize how lonely and isolated you’ve been until this very moment, now that you have some true company. Your story comes spilling out, every sordid detail, and Sascha listens attentively to what you have to say, just like she used to during your training days.

“So, now I’m in my room, and… I don’t even know how I’m going to get through today, let alone a whole week,” you confess, hugging your stuffed rabbit to your chest.

“Let me get this straight.” A while into the call, you’d switched to video chat, and Sascha appears to be doing some yoga stretches while catching up with you. “You have seven men in that house, all of whom you’re supposed to pleasure sexually, and they’re giving you a paid break from pleasuring them?”

You nod. “Awful, isn’t it?”

Sascha’s face twists. “You know, I think you may be viewing this all wrong.”

Your brows furrow. “Excuse me?”

“Hear me out for a second,” she continues, now angling her warrior pose so she’s facing her camera. “When was the last time you had a real break?” She quirks an eyebrow, dipping out of frame to switch poses, her blonde hair spilling over one shoulder in a loose braid. “One where you didn’t even think about work?”

You stare blankly at the camera. You’ve had no such days. You’re always looking to improve yourself to maintain your high marks. “Um…”

Sascha laughs and flashes you a fond smile. “You were the same way in training. You know how many days a week I work?”

You feel shame start to curl in your gut. “How many?”

“Three,” she replies. “And the reason why is because we have like six Primary PCs here at the dorm.” She blows a stray lock of hair out of her face. “There are thirteen boys to satisfy at any given moment, so we each only tackle two to three at a time, and our coverage is considered thin! Most groups have at least one Primary per client.” She reaches down to touch her toes, her ass shimmying in the air, and you snort. “And that’s not even counting our Secondaries! We're practically a fucking harem over here!”

You sigh, chewing on your lip crankily. “What’s your point?”

She pokes her head up to shoot you an equally cranky glare. “Remind me, how many boys do you tackle?”

“Seven,” you mumble. You know what she’s getting at, but it’s something you don’t want to admit, even to yourself. Maybe… objectively… you do need a break, even if you don’t want one. Maybe you’ve been overworking yourself, biting off - or in this case, perhaps swallowing - more than you can chew.

“Right! That’s half the amount of our clients. Doing the math, you should have at least three Primaries there, but it’s just you.” You see Sascha’s leg rise up behind her in some sort of bizarre stretch, and her voice sounds strained with the effort of holding the pose. “I’m not saying you can’t handle it, babes. I’m just saying that... you do a lot for them. Maybe this will be good for you.”

Hearing someone put it so rationally makes you feel like maybe you’ve been overreacting. Namjoon did tell Yeji he wants to keep you, but it all still seems... off, somehow.

“What about the whole vote thing? And Namjoon’s deal?” You bring up your last few defenses at her argument, your hand resting subconsciously on the pocket of your belt containing the key to his studio.

“Oh no, that’s all highly suspicious.” Sascha blows a lock of hair out of her face as she comes back up and lifts her arms over her head. “But what’s happened has already happened. So I think you should make the best of it, and take this time to rejuvenate yourself. Just keep an eye out, and if those bastards try anything, you send them to me.”

You laugh. “Rejuvenate? How am I supposed to do that?” You roll your eyes at her playfully. “Yoga?”

Sascha props a hand on her hip. “Don’t joke. Yoga is a very valid form of rejuvenation.”

You giggle at her stoicism and she cracks a smile too before continuing. “But seriously, honey! It breaks my heart that you’ve been working so hard, you don’t even remember how to have fun. Come on, what did you do in your training days to relax?”

You think back and try to remember. Most of your memories from training are a blur of hard work, endless studying and practice. You’re about to confess that you really have no idea, when a single memory breaks to the surface, and like a dam, it releases a flood of other times you’d taken breaks. Sneaking out to get snacks, late night adventures, stargazing on the rooftop, all of the rare little pockets of time that you could call your own, and they all had one connecting factor.

“Music,” you breathe, feeling like you just stepped out of a time warp. “Listening to music, really, really loudly.”

Sascha laughs, a proud smile adorning her dimpled cheeks. “I think you know how to kick off your vacation, then.”

You find yourself grinning, too. “Thanks, Sasch.” You feel like maybe you should stay on the line a bit longer. You two really have some catching up to do, even though once you’d started talking, it had felt like no time had passed since you’d last seen her.

But Sascha makes your decision for you, blowing you a kiss. “There are tons of music streaming apps. Go crazy. And call me if you need anything, okay?”

The simple act of her being supportive of your wellbeing has you feeling overwhelmed all over again, but this time, it’s not from emotional distress. “Thanks, Sascha. Same to you.”

You’re about to end the call when you hear a door open on Sascha’s end of the line. She looks off camera and a smile pops up on her face. “Antione, come over here!” She yells, running off screen and returning a moment later, dragging a boy behind her, who seems to be grumbling in protest of her manhandling. “Antione, say hi! This is Antione from the group chat.”

The guy seems more than a little ticked off at Sascha, but when he catches sight of you on the screen, his mouth falls open.

“Oh… hello.” He flashes a smile, and his icy blue eyes are now filled with wonderment. “You’re the Primary for BTS?”

“Hi,” You wave a little awkwardly. “Yup, that’s me.” You can’t help noticing how strikingly similar he and Sascha look. With those crystal eyes and buttery blonde hair, you could mistake them for twins, the only difference being Antione’s thinly framed glasses next to Sascha’s 20/20 vision. But you suppose he wouldn’t really need glasses to have sex, they’d surely get knocked around or broken if he left them on. He probably wears contacts for work.

In fact, his similar appearance to his coworker can’t be a coincidence, especially if they’re both Primaries for their clients, and it leads you to believe that perhaps all of their Primaries bear a resemblance to each other, so that any combination of fuck dolls could be considered a set. From this, you suspect that their clients may be into incestuous role play, or perhaps they like the idea of fucking someone’s “sibling”.

Not concrete evidence, but it’s not a far reach. You’ve seen plenty of stranger kinks.

You’ll have to ask Sascha about it on your next call with her, as you’re sure she’ll ask you more about what things your clients usually request of you. With one girl among seven men, she might presume that they enjoy gangbanging you.

She wouldn’t be wrong, of course.

Kink talk was a common pastime among your peers during your training. You all had been trained to analyze a person, what makes them tick, and how it’s related to their psyche. It had always fascinated you from an academic standpoint, even though some of your fellow trainees would prefer hearing about the dirtiest cases, regardless of the psychological factors that went into it.

“Is all going well? You feeling any better about all this?” Antione’s kind voice tears you out of your thoughts, and you give him a brief, grateful smile.

“I’m getting there,” you reply. “Thank you for all your help. It’s been… a lot to take in, and I’m glad that you recognized that, and helped me ease into it.”

“Not a problem. I’ve been in that position before, and it takes some adjusting, for sure,” he replies.

“That’s what she said.” Sascha snickers. “Alright, stop flirting, you two!” She shoves Antione offscreen, and the boy yelps at once again being pushed around. “Call me if you need me, babes! Have fun! Bye!”

Sascha reaches over and ends the call, and you’re once more on your own. But you don’t feel as isolated as before.

As long as you have your ComGear, you’ll never be alone again.

The thought makes you feel warm inside, though you scold yourself for being so sentimental. You need to recharge, or how did Sascha put it? Rejuvenate.

It doesn’t take long for you to find a decent music streaming app, though it’s becoming harder and harder to ignore the buzzing as your clients keep messaging you. You realize that the notifications might interrupt your music once it starts playing, so you reluctantly open all their chat threads, only to mute them.

There. Now it won’t buzz anymore. They shouldn’t care if you left them on read. They want you to rest, right? You huff derisively and start searching the vast music library, trying to recall what you used to listen to back in the day to pump yourself up.

It dawns on you while you browse that you haven’t listened to any music for the past six months, apart from whatever the boys are rehearsing at any given time. The sound always reaches you whenever they practice, even if they’re rooms away. Though their songs aren’t too bad, they’re still not something you had chosen to listen to.

You hadn’t taken any time to be yourself, since you were so busy trying to be what they want from you.

You feel a vague sort of sadness when you think about it like that, imagining it happening to someone else, but you’re too subjective of the situation to really feel sad for yourself. You hadn’t take time for yourself, however you still climbed the ranks, earned their favor, became their only Primary. You’d achieved your goals.

But at what cost, asks a little voice in your head. What did you lose to win your dream job?

And are you even happy with it? Or is it just the satisfaction that you crave? The satisfaction that you would feel after achieving any other goal? The satisfaction of a job well done?

You shake your head. Whoa there. Too deep.

This is the most mental airspace you’ve had in forever, and it’s starting to show.

You don’t waste any more time trying to remember your old favorites, and instead tap on a “Hot 100 Hits” playlist. It’ll be interesting to see what people are listening to now. Maybe you’ll find some new favorites.

Sure enough, the first song that comes on is a pop rock tune, with a catchy beat and heavy drums. It makes you bob your head and you feel a surge of instant regret at not making more time for music. You’d forgotten how it can take you somewhere else, clear your mind and help you forget all your worries in a way that sex never can.

You’re a bit jarred when the lyrics kick in, though. They don’t rhyme at all, and they seem a little… stilted, like a robot is trying to sing. Damn, is this what kids are listening to these days? You knew that those singing hologram voice programs used to be a thing, but this seems almost unintentional.

You check the screen and sure enough, it’s a Korean title staring back up at you.

Your auditory auto-translation chip is changing the song into verbatim English.

You start to laugh. The unintended consequence strikes you as ridiculous. It seems that reminders of your job are everywhere.

With a sigh of exasperation, you head into the settings of your ComGear and access the language screen. You turn off the auditory auto-translation, and the song reverts back to the original lyrics, which are much easier on the ears.

Now that that’s taken care of, you turn the music on full blast and stand up.

Alright. Music, check. Now... how to leisure?

You look around and assess your room. It’s relatively tidy, and cleaning it won’t take more than ten minutes. You could work out, you have plenty of equipment. But that’s what you usually do on your days off. Improve yourself for work the next day.

What would Sascha say? Maybe… guilty pleasures? You put your mind to coming up with the most self-indulgent thing you can imagine.

Of course, you immediately think of chocolate.

But you’re not really hungry. To be honest, your stomach is still a little knotted up from the meeting.

Maybe not that kind of self-indulgence. You’ll just feel guilty afterwards. Maybe… maybe something pointless. Something that’s fun just for the sake of being fun.

You whirl around and take a long look at your bed as the music sweeps into the chorus.

Fuck, why not? Who’s going to stop you?

You climb onto the mattress and start jumping. You feel pretty silly at first, but the longer you jump, the lighter your worries feel. It’s as if you’re leaving them in the air with every bounce. The music blasts from your night table and you get a little bolder with your jumps, really putting power into them.

You’re lucky you have high ceilings, as you go higher and higher, you could swear you’re flying. You start to laugh, throwing some twirls into your leaps, and as the music blares, you sing along, off-key and with nonsensical phonetic lyrics.

Your cheeks hurt by the end of the song, and you’re out of breath, giggles falling from your lips as you finally jump down into a sitting position on the edge of the bed.

When was the last time you jumped on the bed like this? Must have been when you were young, with your sister.

You feel the same dull ache you always feel when you think of her, though you normally make it a point not to do so. The memory must have slipped past your defenses while you were enjoying yourself.

Lost in your thoughts, you almost don’t hear the insistent pounding at your door, the music and thick walls muffling the sound. You had mistaken the noise for part of the lyrics, as they sounded like gibberish to you. But finally you noticed the person trying to get your attention, and you hurry over to the door as they continue to speak in tongues.

“Neo geogi an-e issni? Yah, mun-eul yeol-eola.”

You pull open the door and are met with the unreadable face of Min Yoongi.

“Gwaenchanh-a? Jeonhwaleul an bad-eusyeossneyo.” He continues to drawl in gibberish, and you merely stare at him, immensely confused.

It clicks for you a moment later, and you hold up a finger to him. “Um, hana… uh, shit, one sec.”

He gives you an equally confused look, and you hasten back to your ComGear to turn the auto-translate back on as well as pause the music. “There, that should do it.” You turn around to see him peering curiously at you.

“You were speaking English,” he says it halfway between a question and a statement. He must be used to hearing you speaking auto-translated Korean, just like you’re used to hearing his words in English.

“Yeah... I forgot to turn my translator back on.” You explain halfheartedly, your shields already locking back into their familiar place. It was a nice, if brief, moment of total freedom, just jumping around to music, but the carefree bubble has popped, and you're once more faced with reality.

Yoongi's eyebrow raises at the mention of the technology, but he merely shrugs a shoulder.

A few awkward moments of silence pass before you realize that he isn't going to explain himself on his own. Something about that, about the expectation for you to move things along, has your hackles raised in irritation.

Just like always, he's expecting you to do all the work.

"Did you need something?" You try to stay professional, even now, but you can't keep the edge out of your voice. All traces of your previous enjoyment have shriveled up and vanished in the face of the man who told your other clients that you were something replaceable.

He prods his cheek with his tongue, his face mask shifting from where it rests below his lips. "You weren't answering your phone," he says by way of an answer.

You stare at him, already growing weary of this interaction. Does he expect you to be as accessible as you were before? You don't plan on contacting any of them if you can help it, at least, not for right now.

Wait, did Namjoon tell them what happened? He must have. But if he didn't, then maybe that's why Yoongi is here. There’s no point in having any more misunderstandings; you have to make the situation clear.

"I'm suspended." Your voice grows quiet, and you look off into the hallway, shame coloring your cheeks. You know you shouldn't be, but you still feel a sting from vocalising your current demotion.

Yoongi gives a hum of affirmation, confirming that he already knew, as his eyes roam over your body. "Forbidden fruit..."

You tense, your body reacting involuntarily to his offhand comment as heat rushes to your core. Your most primal senses want him to give into the temptation and pin you against the wall... No, snap out of it. You’re still mad at him, no matter how attractive he may be.

But thankfully the moment of tension passes just as quickly, and his gaze returns to your face. "It’s a shame I already ate, unlike some people.” A flicker of humor in his eyes. “Here."

He hands you a paper bag, with a takeout logo on the front. You can't do anything but stare at it. It seems that your processors are still down for maintenance.

“You didn’t have breakfast.” Yoongi finally says, after it becomes clear you aren’t saying anything. “You’ve been up here since the meeting.”

It finally dawns on you, though the logical conclusion seems hard to believe. “You were… concerned about me?”

He tugs the face mask up over his mouth, concealing most of his expression. “Jungkook,” he corrects you with a slight cough. “He sent me up here. Poor kid was worried sick about you.”

You hesitate to take the food, even though your stomach is curling with hunger. Is this an attempted peace offering? Does he think this will make things better?

Before you can question his motives, he sighs and shoves the bag towards you. “Take it. You still have to eat, you know.”

You’re tired of fighting, and take the path of least resistance by accepting the bag. “Thanks,” you say, half-hoping that this will be the end of it and he’ll just leave. But the other half still holds the whimsical notion that he actually cared enough to check up on you.

“It’s fine,” Yoongi shrugs again, looking off to the side.

You'd only ever known Min Yoongi as a salacious dom, stuffing you full and showering you in filthy praises. It feels surreal to be standing here now, holding a normal conversation.

After another moment, it becomes clear that his business here isn’t finished, and quite frankly, you’re getting impatient. “Is there anything else?”

At this, he seems to remember his reason for coming. “Ah, yeah. Can I come in?”

Into your room? You blink in dismay, the answer should be obvious to him. “No.”

You think you can see his mouth lift into a smile beneath the mask. “Good. That’s the spirit.” He gives a slight nod, as if appraising your disobedience.

You aren’t sure if this is normal behavior for him, as you’ve barely spoken to him out of character. You know probing him about it will only drag out this interaction, but your curiosity gets the better of you. “What… what are you talking about?”

He shoves his hands in his pockets. “I’m just glad to see that you have some backbone. You’re usually so willing to follow orders.”

You bristle at this. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he says, lifting an eyebrow. It would have looked like a challenge if it had been more deliberate, but the way Yoongi carries himself is effortlessly casual and careless. "He gave you his key, right?"

It takes you a moment to discern that he’s talking about Namjoon. You nod once, and he scoffs.

"I knew he would. Poetic bastard." Yoongi sighs, then fixes his gaze to you once more. “That means I have to share my studio with him until all this is fixed.” He clicks his tongue in annoyance.

You aren’t sure how to reply, or if he’s even looking for one. If he wants an apology from you, he’s out of luck. Namjoon’s questionable decisions are not your fault.

But he doesn’t wait for any words from you, and instead turns around to go back downstairs. “Anyway, enjoy your break.”

“Wait.” You aren’t sure why you stop him. Maybe because he doesn’t seem like the type to bullshit you. “Min Yoongi.”

He pauses and looks over his shoulder at the sound of his name, an indiscernible expression in his eyes.

Your resolve turns to steel, using the last ounce of your strength to try and get some answers. “Tell me what’s going on. Why is he doing this?”

Yoongi glances up to the ceiling as though thinking of what to say.

His next words do not inspire confidence.

“I have no fucking idea.”

Your shoulders slump down a fraction. You aren’t sure you believe him, but it’s too much effort to hope for anything beyond his word. You can’t handle any more disappointment right now.

Yoongi scratches the side of his temple and gives a weary sigh. “If I could look inside his mind, then maybe I’d have a clue...” He stares at you intently, and his gaze trails down over your body again. You resist the urge to cover yourself, though now you realize you don’t have to resist. Your body doesn’t belong to him right now, and it won’t for the next several days.

Your arms cross themselves protectively over your chest, testing the waters of your newfound independence. “My eyes are up here, byeongsin.”

His eyes widen a fraction at your cheek. He tugs the face mask down below his chin again, a bewildered smile twitching onto his face, no doubt surprised to hear you cursing him out in Korean. “Who taught you that?”

“Taehyung.” You smirk, proud of yourself for catching him off guard for once. You remember when Tae had told you how surreal it sounded to hear you swearing in his language.

“Doesn’t it sound the same?” You ask him, confusion furrowing your brow. “The translator…”

Taehyung shakes his head, grinning from ear to ear and practically bouncing from excitement. “It sounds different! Like… like you have an accent,” he giggles. “Say it again.”

“Shibal.” You repeat the word hesitantly, the syllables feeling strange on your tongue. Mouth shapes for Korean are so different compared to English.

Taehyung bursts into a fit of laughter, clutching his sides as he rolls onto his back. You whack him with a couch cushion. “That’s not fair! You already know all the English profanities.”

Tae’s eyes dance with laughter as he sits back up. “All thanks to Namjoon-hyung. Shit, bastard, damn it to hell, and of course...” He sticks out his tongue, running it over his lips. “Fuck you.”

There’s a flutter in your stomach from the look he’s giving you. You snort and whack him with the pillow again. “Yup, you got all the highlights.”

His hand slides over your thigh. You meet his gaze, that flutter returning as you see the lust swirling like smoke in his pupils. “Jagiya...” His hand grazes farther up your thigh. “I want to fuck you.”

Things had obviously escalated after that, and you might have gotten lost in the memories if Yoongi hadn’t let out a low chuckle, bringing you back to the moment. “Wow. What else did he teach you?”

You grin, about to let loose a string of foul language, but he holds up a hand before you can, waving off whatever you’re about to say. “Nah, forget it. Leave it a surprise.”

“I’m full of them, you know.” You can’t help feeling a little proud.

“I know.” He stares at you for another moment before turning and heading downstairs. “Make sure to eat,” he calls over his shoulder, and soon enough his footsteps fade away.

A warm feeling fills your chest in his absence, and you can’t quite explain why. His last words prove that he must care about you a little, even if he doesn’t try to show it. The Yoongi you just spoke with feels like a completely different person than the one you overheard in the kitchen. Different even than the one at dinner, who suggested Seokjin should use another slut in your absence.

The memory taints the feeling of warmth, and you sigh. Why are things so fucking complicated?

You head back into your room and devour the takeout with less grace than would be expected for a seductress such as yourself, and mindlessly scroll through your ComGear, which is now more of a standard cellphone, exploring all the newly accessible features.

You’ve missed a lot of news, both locally and globally. Celebrity gossip. Politics. Entertainment.

Wait, whoa. What?

New Witness “B” Comes Forward About Sexual Manipulation in the K-Pop Industry

Sorry, what?

You click the article, your mind reeling with morbid fascination. Why would there still be any “manipulation” now that groups are given PhysComs? Why would they need any other sexual outlet, when they’re given vessels that are willing to serve?

Our witness, who wishes to remain anonymous, has independently corroborated with Witness A’s story. “B” has told us that, like “A”, they weren’t given a choice when it came to filming private sessions with their clients.

“[Group] told me that it was my job. That it was what I was there for. But they filmed me without my consent. They posted the videos online and made money from it. It’s not right. I got out, but there are still others like me who need help. It shouldn’t matter that sex work is against the law. What these people are doing, taking advantage of us… it should be just as illegal. We need a voice, too.”

You may recall that Witness A’s shocking story from earlier this month sparked rumors about illegal sexual companions being provided to entertainment companies, a practice which up until now had been considered hearsay.

However, with this new testimony, it seems that “A” may have had some truth to their story. We tried to contact [Group]’s agency, but they were unavailable for comment.

Holy shit… you had no idea any of this was happening. Thinking on it, it stands to reason that not every PhysCom is treated equally, given the vast multitude of people who have access to them. But where are these PhysComs’ handlers? Why aren’t their networks helping them?

You find polarizing comments beneath the article, most angry that the companies would allow the sex work to take place, very few praising B’s decision to speak out, and some disbelieving that PhysComs even exist. There are also a few very lengthy comments that catch your eye, demonizing the witnesses and making threats towards other companies, should the commenter’s “oppas” be caught in this scandal, too.

You feel uneasy as you click away from the article. The rest of the takeout is put away in your mini fridge, your appetite gone as you try to make sense of things.

That article gives you the feeling that something is happening, not just here in this house, but in the world. Like floating pieces of a magnetic puzzle, you know they’ll all come together somehow, eventually, but you still can’t see the big picture.

You send the article to the group chat, and they confirm that they’ve seen it.

[ PCsv02_svt ]: scary, right? TT-TT [ PCsv02_svt ]: I don’t know what I’d do if I were them, poor thing [ PCsv03_twc ]: they should’ve gone to the police [ PCsv04_blp ]: why did they wait until now to come forward? [ PCsv03_twc ]: if my clients ever treated me badly I would have done something [ PCsv09_$px ]: it’s not always that simple [ PCsv01_svt ]: yes consider the repercussions… [ PCsv01_svt ]: an illegal sex worker reporting nonconsensual sex? [ PCsv01_svt ]: that’s like a robber reporting another robbery

You mull over this as you let them debate the topic. You imagine what it must be like to be in that position, taken advantage of by your clients… you shiver at the cold injustice of it.

There is a certain degree of trust that's employed in any kind of sex work. You're still offering intimacy in some form, which can't be fully given without trust. It must be utterly horrific to see that trust broken and be unable to stop it.

You want to help these people somehow, but right now you need to help yourself. One sea of turmoil at a time.

You click out of the chat and switch to each conversation with your clients, copy and pasting the same message to each of them.

Please don't contact me for the rest of the day. I need time alone.

Since you're suspended, you figure they can't punish you for making yourself unavailable. Though it pains you to think of them relying on the other PhysComs at their disposal. Seokjin already has. You forcibly push away the thoughts every time they bounce against your mind.

With the boys out of the way, you assess your options. You need more information about what the hell is happening, and the most likely place you'll find it is obvious. What did Yoongi say? If he could look inside Namjoon's mind… then he'd have an idea.

You happen to have the key to his mind right in your belt.

-------

It's surprisingly difficult to sneak out of the house without alerting anyone. You left your door locked and music blaring. Between that and the text you sent, you thought leaving from your window would be a piece of cake.

You neglected to account for the height.

Your room is on the third story, too far to jump without damaging yourself. Thankfully, you've seen enough movies to have the idea of fashioning a rope out of extra bed sheets. Unfortunately, bed sheets are not the best rope material. Too slippery.

You mull over what to do for a few moments, and you laugh out loud when you realize that the solution is absurdly simple. Hello? You have literal ropes in among your sex toys. Even better, they're designed not to give the user rope burn, while still knotting like a dream.

It doesn't take long to shimmy down from your window to ground level, and you stash the end of the rope behind some bushes, planning to use it later to return to your forbidden tower.

Disguised in a hoodie, you feel like a spy in an action movie, or a runaway princess, and the thought makes you giggle as you make your way towards the nearest subway station.

It's been too long since you've ventured out of the house. You had nearly forgotten how invigorating the bustle of the city could be. You feel like you’re breathing fresh air for the first time in ages, though the pollution in the distant sky would say otherwise.

It only takes a quick search on your jailbroken ComGear to find the address of the building where Namjoon's studio is located. BigHit Entertainment.

You'll have to be careful not to encounter the others. They probably frequent their record label, and the last thing you need is to bump into one of them. You would have no explanation for yourself as to why you're here. You'd rather avoid the questions.

Unfortunately, it proves harder than you’d think to get into the building. A fingerprint ID scanner meets you just inside the auxiliary door.

Fuck. It’s too much to hope that they have your prints in their database, right? You place your thumb over the scanner, and it buzzes, the sensor light turning red. No go.

Well shit, what are you supposed to do now? You’ve come all this way, and you wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for Namjoon’s stupid key.

Wait, why the hell did he give you the key if he knew you couldn’t get into the building? Bastard. You groan and kick at the base of the door. You try your prints again, but none of your fingers grant you access, the scanner buzzing mockingly with each failed attempt.

You’re about to give up when you hear a voice behind you. “Here, let me.”

You swivel around and see Jeon Jungkook place his thumb on the scanner, a to-go cup in his hand and a duffle bag on his shoulder. The light turns green and the door whooshes aside to let him in. The lift in his brows tells you he recognizes you through your flimsy disguise, but he merely gestures for you to go ahead. You sheepishly walk through, knowing better than to question this stroke of good fortune.

Or bad fortune, as it turns out.

"What are you doing here?" Jungkook asks quietly, once you two are inside the sleek lobby. "You said you wanted to be left alone."

"I did," you confirm huffily, still embarrassed about your struggle to get inside the building. "I do."

"Then... why are you here?" He takes a look around the lobby, where a handful of people are milling about. “It’s not really a good place for being alone.”

You chew your lip. This is the most Jungkook has ever spoken to you. You consider coming up with a story, but it occurs to you that you don't actually know where Namjoon's studio is located inside the building. You’ll need a guide.

"Namjoon said I could use his studio," you explain, deciding to include as few details as possible about your reasons for being here.

"For what?" His brow furrows.

Why all the questions? You’ve always thought of Jungkook as timid, more the type to stay out of the way if someone is up to something, rather than grilling them. But for all you know, maybe he gets assertive in the workplace. It doesn’t matter. You have bigger concerns right now. "To release my first single, obviously,” you snark, crossing your arms. "Look, I’m here for research, okay? You can either help me, or stay out of my way."

His eyes widen. He's never heard you speak to him as yourself, let alone this brazenly. But to your surprise, he nods. “Okay. What can I do to help?”

Well, damn. You didn’t think he would actually agree. It could be that he wants to report what you do to the other boys, acting like a spy. But you’re only here because Namjoon gave you that key. He can’t fault you for using the collateral that he gave you, right?

Fuck it, you’re tired of second guessing. Now is the time for action. Fuck the consequences.

“Where’s Namjoon’s studio?” You ask him, an edge in your voice. “Show me.”

Jungkook hesitates for only a moment, and then nods. He looks wary, almost nervous, and you have to wonder why. Even with your confidant demands, he still has the power in this situation, as always. You’re a nobody who couldn’t even get in the door without his help, and he actually works here. He could have you thrown out, if he wanted.

The thought sends a bolt of worry right to your chest, and you decide to do everything you can to not remind him of that fact.

After a strangely tense elevator ride, Jungkook silently leads you down several corridors until you come across a frosted glass door.

“Here,” he says, gesturing towards the door.

“This is it?” You ask to confirm, and he nods.

You take a deep breath and retrieve the key from your belt. His eyes widen as you slot the key into the lock, and with a gentle twist, the handle turns.

“Where-” Jungkook’s eyes widen to the size of dinner plates, and you turn around to shush him.

“It was a gift,” you explain icily. “Now, if you’re going to help me, then stay right here and make sure no one comes in, got it?”

His lips purse in suspicion and his eyes narrow, but he nods. “Fine.”

Satisfied, you turn back to the door, and it’s only then that you notice the keypad beneath the lock. Clearly the silver key Namjoon gave you isn’t the only way into his studio, as he had previously implied. Some collateral.

More and more doubts fill your thoughts, but you have no energy left to hesitate as you carefully pull the door open and slip inside their leader’s forbidden sanctuary.

-------

It’s much smaller than you thought. Really, only the size of your walk-in closet.

The silence in the room is palpable, the only noise stemming from the gentle purr of electronics. Your gaze gets stuck on all the collectibles he has on display, all around the room, in glass cases and on shelves. Mickey Mouse bodies, with skulls and crossbones for heads. Everything is black, white, and shades of gray.

They make up the only distraction in the room, but they’re everywhere.

You then notice the only clear surface, or relatively clear, as his desk, opposite the door. A grand computer screen sits front and center, with various equipment stacked around it, and a piano keyboard on a tray beneath the glass desktop.

You hasten across the carpeting, and gingerly pull out his desk chair, plush leather with a high back, ergonomically designed.

It feels like a siren will go off at any moment. You aren’t supposed to be here. You’re intruding.

But you need answers. He gave you the key.

You shake off your sense of foreboding and sit down, swiveling yourself into place. A quick shake of the mouse wakes up his computer.

Fuck.

You need a password. Of course. Nothing in your life can be simple.

After a few moments of muttering and seething in frustration, you try to calm down. Okay, so maybe this won’t be an in and out procedure, maybe this will take a little more thought.

Okay, think, think… what would he use for his password?

“It’s ‘monimoni0613’.”

The voice scares you shitless, and you swivel around to see Jungkook poking his head in the door. He gives you a half smile. “And that’s in Korean. You want help?”

You clutch your chest. “Fuck, don’t scare me like that!” You snap at him, though he doesn’t seem particularly intimidated. How does Namjoon even work with his back to the door like this? You’d be constantly looking over your shoulder. Is he really that trusting of people?

Jungkook doesn’t wait for your answer and comes inside, letting the door fall gently shut behind him. “It’s after his dog,” he says, leaning over you to access the keyboard and quickly type in the password. He smells like shampoo.

Your heart picks up the pace as he hovers over you, his eyes trained on the screen. He’s only inches away from you, his necklace dangles in front of your face in a way that you should not find tantalizing.

“His dog’s name is Moni?” You ask, trying to tell your heart to kindly get a grip. You’re on a mission, no time for horniness.

“Well, ah… yeah. Let’s go with that.” Jungkook makes a slight noise of triumph as the computer unlocks, Namjoon's desktop wallpaper greeting you - yet another skull-headed Mickey.

"Wait, how do you know his password?" You can't help but ask. After the ordeal you went through just to get to his inner sanctum, this feels too easy.

"He lets me use his computer sometimes, for gaming, and stuff…" the boy trails off, looking elsewhere as though embarrassed.

"Okay…" You stare at him. "Thanks for helping."

"You're welcome."

There's an awkward silence.

"Go wait outside." You say.

"Yup." He ducks back out of the room, leaving you to your investigating once more.

You exhale once you're alone again. Okay, where to start? You scan his desktop, but the icons are surprisingly neat. A few programs, a few shortcuts, a few folders, all of which prove fruitless.

The folders contain music program files of what appear to be songs still in the works. Although interesting, not really what you're looking for.

Jesus, how could he trust you with all this? You could leak these to the public. You could sell them, and never have to worry about job security again...

He must be fucking desperate to put his entire career in your hands.

Just like your career currently rests in his own.

You shake off the idea of selling the insider information. Although tempting, right now all you really want is answers as to why the fuck he's doing any of this in the first place. Why did he suspend you? Why did things stop? You had a spotless record up until last night, so… what changed?

You check his recent files next, and happen to find exactly what you're looking for.

Theory - draft for proposal

Seems like a solid lead.

You click the link, and a word document opens up. Unfortunately in Korean.

Of course. Of course he would write in his native language, and of course, it’s only your ComGear that translates messages from the boys, you don’t have bionic vision. There are a few random English words scattered here and there, but not nearly enough to make heads or tails of what the document is about. You could use an online translator, but you need a full understanding of this material, there’s no room for error here.

Should you ask Jungkook? No, you should not. He seems innocent enough, but your sense of self-preservation now overrides any trust you might have once given him. You bite back a groan of frustration and instead mutter a few choice expletives through a heavy, weary sigh.

Then you get an idea.

If your ComGear is what usually does your translating, why not just send this there?

You fumble to highlight the document, then copy it and head over to Namjoon’s email. Yikes. Lots and lots of unread. Well, you can’t blame him with his hectic schedule. You skip over a couple of emails at the top that appear to be from law firms, and instead click to compose a new message.

Fuck, this will leave a trail, won’t it? If he checks his sent emails, he’ll see that you saw… whatever this turns out to be.

It doesn’t matter. He gave you access to this room. He knew the potential consequences.

You paste the body of the document, type in your email address and hit send. Not moments later, there’s a chime on your ComGear, and sure enough, an email has arrived. You don’t get much correspondence these days, apart from your network. Well, your old network. Now your phone constantly has notifications from the chatroom. It feels strangely comforting.

Without another moment’s hesitation, you tap the email and anxiously wait for it to load, praying that the automatic translation feature doesn’t fail you now.

Soon, the English text appears, and your worries are put to rest within the first line.

We must build a brighter future for PhysComs.

#bts #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts x reader smut #bts x reader #bts fanfiction #bts ot7 #bts ot7 smut #bts smut fic #bts fic rec #yoongi x reader #jungkook x reader #thank you all for enjoying physcom! <3

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inspired-by-the-music · 4 years ago

Text

For You: Stand By Me

Taglist: @jineunwootrash @angels-from-california @jayjaydawn

If you would like to be added to the taglist of any of this blog’s works, please ask!

Recommended Reading: For You: 4 O’Clock; these works have separate, independent, but deeply interwoven timelines.

Chapter 10: The Flower Who Bloomed in April

Sehun’s POV

Once upon a time, in a year I can’t remember, Lei wrote a note for my birthday that claimed, “All flowers bloom in April.” I guess I’m somewhat inclined to agree. That idea breaks through all of my thoughts and colors them a faint pink whenever winter melts into spring and all of nature seems to celebrate us.

I was considering that old note while pulling my car into the driveway of Lei’s house, which was too big for just her and her mother.

“What is this place?” Chanyeol asked, eyes bulging out of their sockets.

Aware that he wouldn’t rest until he received an answer, I said, “It’s Lei’s house,” and braced myself for his predictable (but still annoying) jokes.

Chanyeol almost laughed, and he reached over to ruffle my hair like I was a child. “I should have known that you’d have to visit your little girlfriend!”

The tips of my ears burned as I gnawed on my cheek. I didn’t say anything at first. After the incident at the SM Town concert when I made Lei cry, I decided to just let Chanyeol say whatever he wanted as long as she couldn’t hear. I decided not to waste my energy arguing with him.

I swallowed the uncomfortable lump in my throat. “I told you to drive yourself to your little fling’s house if you didn’t want to make stops.”

Chanyeol watched me grab the small gift box— which I asked Junmyeon to wrap— from the center console. I watched the smirk curl his lips with the realization, “Oh! It’s the princess’s birthday!” He cheered like he cared. “How old is she now?”

When I didn’t dignify him with a response as I forced the box into the pocket of my loose jeans, Chanyeol started to count the years aloud. “Okay, so if you’re turning 23 in two days, that must mean—”

“Eighteen,” I spoke flatly. “Lei is eighteen.”

“Eighteen,” Chanyeol repeated in a low whistle. “That’s crazy! You know, if we were in America, she would officially be an adult now.”

I squirmed in my seat. “Well, we’re not in America,” I reminded him. I told his obnoxious skeptical expression, “And it doesn’t matter how old she is. I’m not holding my breath until she’s an adult because, like I’ve told you a thousand times, we’re just friends.”

I almost said, “We’ll always be just friends,” but it didn’t seem like the right thing to say. Always— never— those words didn’t sound right about Lei except to say that I would always want to be good to her.

“I really don’t understand you.” Chanyeol drummed his fingers on the center console. “Doesn’t it kinda annoy you that there is only one girl who hasn’t been deterred by your resting bitch face—” I narrowed my eyes, and Chanyeol nodded— “yeah, that one!”

I rolled my eyes.

“Doesn’t it bother you that the only girl you’ve never run from— the only girl you’ve ever loved— is too young to be, like, your soulmate or something?”

“No,” I answered honestly, “because I don’t believe in soulmates.”

Probably because I didn’t deny loving Lei, Chanyeol’s jaw dropped. Once I believed that love is just wanting what’s best for someone, it wasn’t hard to admit that I loved Lei. I decided that it would be a shame to allow Chanyeol’s jokes or misunderstandings to pervert something so wholesome.

Although it wasn’t any of his business, I explained, “I’m not here to celebrate Lei’s passage into American adulthood or whatever the hell you’re thinking. Her Mom is still managing Super Junior’s tour abroad, so I promised Donghae that I wouldn’t let her be lonely all day.”

“What, so you’re gonna invite her to tag along with us again?” Almost a decade had passed since I took Lei to the Sanrio store for her tenth birthday, but Chanyeol clung to his grudge against us as if we left him alone in the arcade just yesterday.

I frowned at his childishness. “I doubt that Lei wants to waste her birthday by tagging along on our two-hour drive to your fling’s apartment. I’m just gonna give her a gift—”

“A kiss?” Chanyeol puckered his lips and made disgustingly exaggerated smacking sounds. He laughed while dodging my half-hearted attempt to swat at him.

I didn’t tell Chanyeol that I had gotten Lei a cherry blossom charm because then I would have had to tell him about the charm bracelet I got for her debut, and then he would joke about that too. I wasn’t a sensitive sort of guy— not usually, anyway— but I liked to avoid as many Lei jokes as possible.

I continued, “After I give her the gift, I’ll come right back out. Then I’ll drop you off at what’s-her-name’s place, and—”

“You should stick around,” Chanyeol urged for the thousandth time. “My girl has a friend, and—”

For the thousandth time, I responded, “I’m not interested.”

Chanyeol knew that I was opposed to dating even in the most casual sense of the word, yet he kept encouraging me to meet people who I didn’t want to meet. He kept encouraging me to kiss people I didn’t want to kiss— people who I could probably never develop any real attachment to— people who could probably never develop any real attachment to me. No matter how many times I swore that I wasn’t lonely— and even if I was, shallow physical relationships would fail to fill any void— he didn’t get I didn’t want to open myself up to women who would only ever be strangers.

Maybe I wasn’t opposed to falling in love with somebody who knew me and accepted me, but I was opposed to taking that first step into the unknown. Furthermore, I knew that I wouldn’t find my soulmate— if such a person existed despite my disbelief— through Chanyeol’s hookups.

Don’t misunderstand. I didn’t care that Chanyeol and others tried to fill their voids with people. It’s up to others to behave and experience life as they see fit. It’s not my place to determine whether their relationships are truly fulfilling. It’s just— I knew that kind of thing wasn’t for me. I had never experienced love at first sight, and I doubted very much whether it existed, and it was always clear to me that if I were ever to ‘find love’ — well, love would have to find me because I would never look first, especially not with everyone watching.

“I’m tired,” I said, and it wasn’t technically a lie, “so as soon as I drop you off, I’m going home.”

“Whatever.” Chanyeol shrugged. “If you ask me—”

Figuring that he, like Junmyeon, would try to impress upon me the importance of companionship, I said, “I’m not.”

Chanyeol continued anyway. “This is all a waste of time. I doubt that kid—” he was referring to Lei— “is lonely. I bet that boy with the big head—” he was referring to Lucas— “is in that giant ass mansion with her, eating cake, watching cartoons, or making out on the couch since the Super Junior dudes aren’t around to scare them apart.”

With his words, Chanyeol painted a vivid picture that I couldn’t quite erase from my mind. My stomach turned with my failed efforts, so I reminded myself aloud, “They’re just friends.”

“Believe what you want,” Chanyeol scoffed, “but something is going on. How else is our little princess wrapping him and you and who knows who else around her finger?”

“Just shut up and wait here.” I jumped out of my seat and slammed the door behind me before Chanyeol could say anything else to convince me to punch his face.

He rolled his window down to yell, “Jealousy is not becoming, Sehun!”

For the sake of preserving our friendship, I pretended not to hear him as I climbed the stairs and rang the doorbell. After minutes passed with no response, I figured that Lei had gone out with some friends. Although she claimed Lucas as the only cure for her loneliness, she had surged in popularity among other idols, so she could have been out with anybody. Pushing through my disappointment, I reached for my phone to text her and arrange some other time to meet— probably on my birthday.

Then, before I could press send, her voice beckoned from the other side of the door, “It’s open! Come in!”

She didn’t even ask me to identify myself. What if I was some crazed fan? Because it was her birthday, I suppressed my worry with the reminder that I wasn’t a crazed fan. I wasn’t a stranger. There was no real harm in trusting me.

Still, if she was going to be irresponsible while her Mom and Super Junior were away, I would have to appoint myself as her protector. I would have to drive by to check on her every day until their return; the daily check-in texts would do little to prevent her from inviting strangers into the house.

Nothing in Lei’s tone— except for the giggles, I realize in hindsight— prepared me for what I found behind the door. On the white couch, as if positioned to greet anyone who entered with a scene from nightmares, Lei was pinned under Lucas while SpongeBob played on the widescreen television. I tried to fix my gaze on the scattered cupcake wrappers on the coffee table, but I couldn’t. The scene wouldn’t have been so revolting if a.) Chanyeol hadn’t predicted it, b.) Lucas hadn’t been shirtless, and c.) Lei hadn’t been too busy giving Lucas her brightest smile to notice me, frowning in the doorway.

Maybe it’s best that she didn’t catch me staring at them. Maybe it’s best that she didn’t notice me until I regained my outward composure.

Once I realized that I was witnessing the last thing I ever wanted to see— what I was afraid happened behind closed doors— my heavy gaze crashed somewhere around my feet. In the reflective hardwood floor, I met my own downcast expression. Although I wanted nothing more than to forget how I looked in that moment, I couldn’t turn my head or raise my eyes without confronting the fear— the reality— of seeing Lei so close to, so engrossed with someone who—

Someone who wasn’t me.

My stomach lurched so violently with that thought that I gagged. I rushed to pack that thought, which was too jealous, selfish, embarrassing, and inappropriate to embrace, into a box in a dark corner of my mind where I could never find it again. The problem was that no matter how I tried to avoid that dark corner, I always wandered there with my eyes closed. The thought was strong enough to escape from its box, and it was smart enough to find me, and it was quick enough to chase me, and I was stupid enough to keep running long after it caught me.

I thought that my burning face, which must have been red, could have been cooled by the spring breeze. I thought that I would stop falling— I would stop sinking if I didn’t have to stand in the same room as their laughter. I would have bolted out of the house and away from the spiraling emotions that I never, never expected to experience, but I was paralyzed by Lei’s giggles filling the static air. I was numb with the desire to hear them still, even when I wasn’t the cause. Even when I needed to, I couldn’t walk away.

For a second, I think, my heart stopped. Once it started pounding again, I found the voice to ask, “What’s going on here?” It was lucky that anger— not whatever sadness nagged from that dark corner of my mind— was the primary emotion in my voice. At least, that’s what I told myself.

They stared at me with identical slackjawed, wide-eyed expressions, and I had to roll my eyes because the only alternative was to cry or something. I didn’t cry.

“Hey, Sehun!” Lei turned her smile to me, and I eagerly accepted what I couldn’t return until she hissed, “Get off, Lucas! Don’t you have any idea how bad this looks?”

Was it right to be proud of her for abandoning her laughter for the warning scowl that darkened her features? Was I proud of being the person who, by my voice or presence, forced that distance between her and others— even people like Lucas who I knew were good? Even when I reminded myself that I was just protecting her, I was stiff with guilt. It was my first time feeling that way. I didn’t like it.

“I don’t care how it looks!” Lucas transformed into a little kid when he pouted. He almost looked like Lei used to look. “Just lay still, and let me finish—”

“She said to get off,” I growled at Lucas, knowing that he wasn’t trying to cross inappropriate boundaries. He was completely innocent— almost to the point of stupidity— and I was perverting the situation by assuming the worst.

Lucas didn’t argue with me, though. He didn’t assert himself. He raised his hands in surrender, mouth falling open, and that’s when I saw that he was holding a black marker. That’s when I realized that I hadn’t interrupted any romantic moment. It was all a misunderstanding.

So why didn’t I feel better? Was the thought, the misunderstanding, the imagination that Lei had been close to somebody else terrible enough to ruin the day?

Lucas climbed off of her and stood straight as if to boast the handwriting (which I recognized as Lei’s) sprawled across his chest reading: LEICAS 4 EVA. Leicas— the word fans used to refer to their friendship and alleged romantic attraction. How foolish to make light of such rumors that could damage their reputations.

When Lei stood next to Lucas, I saw not only a tattoo identical to Lucas’s on her stomach, exposed under her white cropped shirt. Bright tattoos marked every inch of skin on her arms, legs, and even on much of her face. On one cheek was a sparkling silver heart drawn around the name Baek, penned by Baekhyun, no doubt. On the other was a larger, sloppier heart drawn around the name Ten. How childish.

As if attracted to the chance to deepen my scowl, Chanyeol barreled through the door. “Sehun, you promised you’d be right back! You said—” He fell silent at the sight of Lei. “What the hell happened to you, Princess?”

A blush broke out across the bridge of her nose as she scratched at the back of her neck. “Minseokie bought temporary tattoo markers and handed them out to all of the party guests so they could give me tattoos for my birthday! Apparently, he saw something in a movie, and—”

I blurted, “What the hell kind of movies is Minseok watching?”

And Chanyeol blurted, “Party guests?”

And Lucas told him, “Everyone’s out by the pool! Lei turns eighteen today!”

Chanyeol turned to me with a sick smirk as he repeated, “Eighteen, huh?”

I would have glared at him had I been able to tear my eyes away from Lei. Even while I glared at every mark on her body, I knew that the rage fuelling my every thought was an overreaction. I knew that I shouldn’t have wanted to scold Minseok for encouraging Baekhyun, Ten, Lucas, and everyone else at the party to make their mark on Lei.

“Come here!” Chanyeol called her toward us, holding his hand out for Lucas to give him the marker.

Because Lei and Lucas were foolish enough to obey, I had to intervene before Chanyeol could join the trend of writing on her. He probably would have written some insult on her skin for everyone to see, so I didn’t feel bad about snatching the marker and stuffing it into my pocket. “She’s a girl, not a piece of paper.”

“Come on, Sehun!” Chanyeol whined at my reaction before another smirk twisted his lips. “You’ll get your turn to mark the birthday girl!”

Lucas’s jaw dropped, and Lei grimaced, and I would have yelled at Chanyeol myself if Lei hadn’t beat me to it.

“Way to make it pervy, Chanyeol!” She rolled her eyes at him as she crossed her arms. When she rounded on her bare heels, deliberately whipping her ponytail, I caught the bright pink lettering on her shoulder reading, quite simply, “Yuta’s.” Something about that made my blood boil.

“Hey!” Kyungsoo’s deep voice preceded him. He stomped into the living room carrying a tray of uncooked meat and pointed his glare at me and Chanyeol. “Who invited you two?”

While I wondered just how many boys lurked around Lei’s house, Chanyeol retorted, “Well, it wasn’t you, Minseok, or Baekhyun!”

Kyungsoo didn’t bat an eyelash at Chanyeol’s harsh tone. Grinning faintly as he met Lei’s eyes, he shrugged. “Nobody ever invites Baekhyun, but he somehow manages to crash every party.”

Although nobody was looking at him, let alone talking to him, Lucas lowered his sunglasses over his eyes and chirped, “I like Baekhyun!”

“Anyway—” Kyungsoo resumed glaring at me and Chanyeol after smiling at Lucas— “I’m not going to allow you two to ruin the perfect pool party that Minseok and I planned for months at Manager Kim’s request!”

“Yeah?” Chanyeol’s eyes narrowed at Kyungsoo. “Well, we didn’t want to come to this stupid party anyway! Come on, Sehun!” He wrapped his hand around my arm and tried to pull me out the door that he left open, but I wouldn’t budge.

Tugging out of Chanyeol’s grip, momentarily forcing myself to pretend that others weren’t watching, I met Lei’s gaze head-on and said, “I didn’t mean to crash your party. I only wanted to tell you happy birthday. I didn’t mean—”

I didn’t mean to slip into a fight, but I didn’t say that.

“I didn’t know—”

When I pulled into the driveway, I didn’t know that I was walking into a situation where I would have to compete with Lucas and Baekhyun and Ten and Minseok and Kyungsoo and Yuta and who knows who else for her attention. Obviously, I didn’t say that either.

Chewing on my tongue, burning under everyone’s stares, I wheezed, “I’m sorry.” That was all I said those days. It never got easier.

Tugging at the ribbon in her hair, Lei said, “It’s okay, Sehun,” even though it wasn’t— even though my apology was incoherent. She tried to bite her smile as she said, “You can stay if you’re not busy.” I couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t smile at me if she wanted to.

I would have dropped everything, said anything, done anything to inspire her to give me the smile that always used to be mine, but Chanyeol tried to speak on my behalf again.

Hands on his hips and thoroughly unapologetic, Chanyeol said, “Sorry to break it to ya, Princess, but your Prince Charming promised to drive me across town to meet up with my girl.”

“Your girl?” Kyungsoo and Lucas parroted. Lucas spoke with an open-mouthed grin, and (beneath his sunglasses) hearts probably gathered in his eyes. Meanwhile, Kyungsoo spoke through a tense frown, eyes devoid of everything but sheer annoyance.

For the first time I could remember, Lei was the first to look away. “Hey,” I said so quietly that nobody else in the room noticed. Lei heard, though, and she looked up instantly despite the distance between us. I said, “Don’t worry. I only make cross-town trips for true love.”

Her smile inspired my own even after Chanyeol focused his glare on me. I tossed my keys to him. “Feel free to take my car or call an Uber or something.”

“Are you serious?” He gawked at me when I nodded my head. “You’re staying? Just because she asked you to?”

Meeting Lei’s smile, I reasoned, “It’s her birthday,” but I knew that I would have done anything she asked any day of the year. Maybe that wasn’t how things had always been— or maybe it was— but I decided once and for all that I would be responsible for as many smiles as possible from then on.

As if he heard my silent vow, Chanyeol shook his head before shouting, “Well, I’m not staying!” He slammed the door on his way out.

When Lei winced at the sound, Lucas threw a protective arm around her shoulders. Watching her lean into his embrace, I wondered if she would have been comfortable enough to lean on me if I were the one standing by her side. Knowing that I would never reach out to her first, I tried to comfort her from afar by reminding her that she didn’t have to care about Chanyeol’s outburst.

I didn’t get the chance to say anything. Kyungsoo filled the silence. “If you’re going to stay, Sehun, do me a favor. Grab the other tray off the kitchen counter. And Lei—” his entire face changed— brightened— when he said her name. I wondered if I ever looked that happy when I said it. “Can you grab the cup of sliced watermelon and give it to Mark?”

Stepping out of Lucas’s embrace, Lei winked at Kyungsoo and saluted him. “You got it, Soo!”

Because he was usually opposed to being called anything other than Kyungsoo or D.O., I almost expected him to correct her or at least tell her not to wink at him. He didn’t. Kyungsoo winked back at her. “Lucas, can you come open the back door for me?”

Lucas ran to help Kyungsoo, and I followed Lei as she skipped into the kitchen. She spun behind the counter, grabbed the clear plastic cup containing sliced watermelon, and— after popping a piece into her mouth— caught me staring at her. Eyes widening, she held the cup out to me and offered through her mouthful, “Want one?”

I shook my head, and she shrugged, giggling, “Your loss, Sehun!”

She was set to dash out the back door, but she stopped when I asked, “Why don’t I have a nickname?”

“What?” She blinked at me, smile fading until I grinned at her. With my encouragement, she smiled that genuine smile that deepened her laugh lines and wrinkled her eyes.

“You call Minseok ‘Minseokie,’ Kyungsoo ‘Soo,’ and Baekhyun—” I pointed to the silver heart on her cheek— “‘Baek.’ So why am I just plain old Sehun?”

“I dunno.” She furrowed her brow and looked up at me. “What do you want me to call you?”

I mimicked her tone. “I dunno. I can’t come up with my own nickname, Lei.”

She pointed out, “You don’t call me by any nickname either. Chanyeol calls me ‘kid,’ and ‘princess,’ but you’ve always called me Lei.”

As if she didn’t know, I told her, “Chanyeol calls you those things just to be an asshole.”

She playfully gasped, “Language, Sehun!” She swatted at me and laughed when I cried out in exaggerated pain.

To get our conversation back on track, I said, “Everyone else calls you Lei.”

She said, “Well, you’re not everyone else to me, Sehun,” with such an emphasis on my name that I swear I felt it all at once— every emotion she ever spent on me. To this day, I haven’t stopped feeling it.

Trying to distract myself, I reached for the other tray that Kyungsoo piled high with meat. I tried not to cringe when I confessed, “I’ll always call you Lei because it’s the prettiest name I’ve ever heard.” And while she was busy gawking at me, I took the chance to run away in the futile hope of escaping further embarrassment.

I have always regretted leaving Lei alone in the kitchen because of how nearly impossible it was to get her attention outside where NCT boys seemed to multiply by the second. After dropping the tray off with Kyungsoo, who manned the grill while wearing a novelty apron whose punchline made no sense, I sat back in a lounge chair under an orange umbrella and tried to calm the weird palpitations in my chest.

From that chair, I watched Minseok make his rounds around the pool with a handheld camcorder. A smile grew on his face when we locked eyes, and he almost tackled one of the NCT kids— Taeyong, I think— on his way over to me.

Holding the camera just inches from my face, he asked, “Is there anything you wanna say to the birthday girl?”

I stuttered, “Um— happy birthday— Minseok, what are you doing?”

“I’m immortalizing the best pool party ever!” He whirled around to capture footage of Johnny leaping off of the diving board. “Oh, look!” He whirled around again to record Lei walking out of the house, cup of watermelon in hand. “Here comes the birthday girl!”

Her surprised expression was short-lived. Her free hand waved to the camera as she asked, “Aren’t you hot, Sehun?”

As a matter of fact, even when shielded by the umbrella, I was in danger of sweating to death. Still, I politely shook my head. “I’m fine, birthday girl.”

“You’re supposed to always call me Lei, remember?” Lei teased, and — of course— Minseok cackled as he filmed my resulting blush. “Seriously, Sehun, if you’re hot, you can borrow some swim trunks from Lucas’s room and jump in the pool.”

I repeated, “Lucas’s room?” but Lei didn’t respond, and Minseok didn’t film my stunned reaction because he was too focused on the boy who approached Lei.

“Whatcha doing there, Ten?” She took a cautious step away from him, and he batted his eyelashes as he smiled at her.

“Turn around, Lei,” he bossed. “I wanna give you another tattoo.”

Her bangs fell into her eyes when she shook her head. Cupping her cheek, she replied, “I think you gave me enough of a token to remember this day by, thanks.”

Minseok, Ten, and I snorted.

“I’m being serious this time,” Ten swore, smile melting into an earnest expression that almost anyone would fall for. “Turn around, and I’ll give you a serious tattoo.”

Lei rubbed the base of ner neck and averted her gaze from him. She said nothing until I urged, seeing that curious spark in her eyes, “Go for it.” She and Ten turned to face me, and I promised, “If he draws something stupid, I’ll mark it out.”

Ten brandished a glittering sky blue marker, and Lei turned her back to him with a weary sigh. “If you draw something stupid, Ten, I’ll kick your ass.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ten grabbed Lei by the waist to pull her closer. When he glanced over at me and caught my cautionary scowl, he smirked. “You and your boyfriend have me absolutely terrified, Lei. I’ll be a good boy.”

“Boyfriend?” Lei repeated in a gasp. She looked back at Ten, followed his gaze to me, and went pink in the face. “Oh.” A tiny smile played on her lips after she looked away from me. She never reacted that way when people mistook Lucas for her boyfriend. “Get your facts straight, Ten. Sehun is my Guardian Angel. Don’t taint our pure loving friendship with your filthy mind.”

Minseok repeated, “Guardian Angel,” looking to me for a reaction. I shrugged and looked away from him, but my smile spoke for itself.

“Oh, I see.” Ten nodded, still smirking. “How sweet. Anyway, what do you want me to draw?”

Lei shrugged. “You’re the artist, aren’t ya?”

“Well, you didn’t like my last masterpiece.” Ten traced his thumb over his heart on her cheek and laughed when she swatted him away. “So help me out a bit here. What’s your favorite thing in the world?”

Again, Lei shrugged, and Ten turned to me. “Well, what do you think, Guardian Angel? What’s Lei’s favorite thing?”

I didn’t have to glance up to see its faint shape in the sky to know the answer. “The moon.”

“How ‘bout it, Lei?” Ten barely glanced at her smile before penning a small crescent moon on the nape of her neck. After dropping the marker into the pocket of his black swim trunks, he puckered his lips to blow air on the tattoo.

Before I could scold him (and Minseok for filming such promiscuity) Lei rounded on Ten. “That wasn’t a part of the deal, you pervert!”

The flames in her eyes should have scalded him, but Ten didn’t flinch as he hummed, “I dunno what you’re talking about, silly.” He was bold enough to smile at her, and something about that gesture slightly quelled the fire in her eyes. “I was just helping the ink dry!”

Unconvinced, Lei blinked at him, and Ten winked at her before strutting away. Peering into Minseok’s camera, she griped, “The nerve of some boys!” and giggled before walking off, I assumed, to find Mark and give him the cup of sliced watermelon.

I swear, Minseok winked at me before he left in pursuit of the next exciting exchange to immortalize on tape. As I sat back in my chair, trying to come to terms with the fact that I had just watched somebody flirt with Lei out in the open, Lucas crash-landed into the chair nearest to me.

The chair was far away enough that he had to raise his voice to talk to me. “If you’re hot, you can get some swim trunks out of my room.”

“Your room?” I raised an eyebrow at him, but he wasn’t looking at me.

“Yep.” He rested his hands behind his head. “My room has an Avengers poster on the door, so—”

I interrupted to ask, “You have a bedroom in Lei’s house?”

Lucas nodded like it wasn’t a big deal. When I rolled my eyes and started slipping into annoyance, Lucas swore, “My intentions— they’re still friendly.”

Flatly, I told him, “Friends usually don’t move in together as teenagers.” I don’t know how true that is, but I believed it when I said it.

“Then maybe my intentions are — what’s the word? — familial.”

When I didn’t respond except to cross my arms over my chest, Lucas leaned over his seat to whisper— if you can really call it a whisper when he talked so loudly, “There is nobody here that you should be jealous of. We’re all friends, and everyone knows that Lei is totally hot—” I grimaced— “and sure, some of us are dumb enough to try to take a shot with her, but we all know about her dating ban. We all know that she would only make an exception for one person. None of us have been dumb enough to believe even for a second that the exception would be us.”

I started to tell him that I wasn’t jealous of anybody, but the words died in my mouth when I caught him looking at me over his glasses as if to imply that I was the one for whom she would cast aside logic and principles.

Although Lucas hadn’t said so explicitly, I hissed, “You should do a better job of guarding her secrets.”

Leaning back into his seat, he replied, “She doesn’t consider her feelings for you a secret.”

I couldn’t argue because he was right. As if it were all too easy— as if she couldn’t keep the words to herself— as if she didn’t want to leave the words unsaid— she told me, “You’re the handsomest person I’ve ever seen,” and “I haven’t outgrown my crush on you,” and, “I love you,” and she said my name in that way that made my heart swell, and—

I almost think that if somebody loves you the way Lei loved me, you have to surrender to love too. Maybe not at first, maybe not all at once, but eventually all of those years of being loved so completely, so unconditionally— they surrounded me, and maybe I didn’t want them to end.

In that moment when I couldn’t quite admit that I would also make an exception for one person, I could admit that if Lei wanted to love me where the whole world could watch— if she wanted to follow me again— if she wanted to hold my hand in the dark again— if she wanted to lean on my shoulder and trust me with all of her troubles again— if she wanted to take the first step toward me, I would never again try to stop her.

I was distracted from my romantic thoughts by an ear-splitting scream, a loud splash, and Lucas scrambling to sit upright in his chair and yell, “Dude, Johnny, Lei can’t swim!”

I could only shake my head. How stupid to live in a house with a huge pool without learning to swim. Obviously, I set aside my frustration and fascination that Lei had lived through childhood to jump out of my chair. I would have dove into the pool— wearing my jeans with my phone and her gift tucked into the pockets— but I stood still once Lei resurfaced, clinging to Johnny. They laughed so hard that water shot out of their noses.

Once I sat back in my seat and started to catch my breath, I mentally cursed Lei for being so irresponsible. Maybe she could stand to be careless enough to laugh in the face of near-death, but I couldn’t stand to watch it. If I was going to love her— out loud or in that dark corner of my mind— she needed to be more careful for my sake.

As soon as she found her footing in the shallow waters, she struck Johnny’s arm once, twice, three times until— still laughing— he finally released her from his embrace and allowed her to climb out of the water.

Staring down at him from higher ground, she yelled, “You ruined my shirt, Johnny!” And she wasn’t wrong. The white cropped top— now translucent— clung to her body like a second skin.

“Sorry!” Johnny grinned at her, and— again— the rage in her eyes was extinguished. “I didn’t really think about that when I pulled you into the water.” Johnny was polite enough to train his eyes on her face, but I noticed that many of the other boys allowed their eyes to drift lower.

Lei must have noticed too. After sticking her tongue out at Johnny, earning more of his boisterous laughter, she retreated to an abandoned corner by the pool. After ensuring that nobody was watching, she peeled off the white shirt to reveal the top half of her black bathing suit. Somehow, to my disappointment, all of her tattoos remained intact after being submerged in water.

From his place in the center of the pool, where he laid in a pink donut-shaped inner tube, Baekhyun whistled, “Take it off, Lei!”

When all heads turned to her at Baekhyun’s urging, she pressed the soaked shirt flat against her chest and dashed toward me and Lucas. It was kind of funny, charming in a way, that she could be so modest at a pool party where everyone— excluding me, Kyungsoo, and Minseok— was proudly shirtless.

Lucas said, “She’s really something, isn’t she?”

My face burned scarlet with the realization that anybody could have caught me staring at her. Anybody could have misinterpreted my motivations. Before I could say anything to Lucas, Lei was in earshot. I had to swallow my embarrassment.

“Move over, Lucas,” she wheezed, standing over him. When he only grunted in response, she frowned and climbed over one of his legs— which were placed on either side of the chair— to sit between them. She crossed her legs and turned her back to the pool.

“Are you asleep or something?” Lei leaned forward to lift his sunglasses, but Lucas swatted her hand away.

“No,” he answered, “I’m just trying to relax, and—” Lei lifted his sunglasses anyway, and Lucas whined, “back up, dude! You’re dripping pool water all over me!”

“Boohoo,” Lei mocked, poking her bottom lip into a pout. “I just got yanked into the pool by goofball Johnny, and then Baekhyun saw my bathing suit, and—”

“Dude.” Lucas’s calm voice thawed the anxiety etched into Lei’s features. More than ever, it was clear why they were close. “You look great! Calm down a bit.”

Lei raised her eyebrows uncertainly, tracing one of the tattoos on her thigh. “Really? You think I look great?”

Something about that bothered me. Did Lei have no idea that she was beautiful? Did the voices of those bullies from her trainee days still follow her? Had she fallen into the trap of reading online hate comments?

I didn’t know, and I never would have known how to approach the topic. I never would have known how to convince her that she was radiant inside and out. I get that beauty is usually one of those subjective concepts, but, objectively, Lei was beautiful. Anyone could have seen it from her ability to draw everyone’s attention without saying a word.

“Yeah!” Lucas assured her with a smile. “Who knows how many people were checking you out!”

I knew that he was eyeing me behind his reflective lenses, so my eyes darted away from their scene to look up at the sky.

Lei clicked her tongue. “I don’t want people to check me out—”

Before she could finish her complaint and I could feel culpable for my part in making her so neurotic, Kyungsoo tripped toward us, flip-flops slapping against the wet pavement. “I heard a scream and a splash and Baekhyun’s whistle! I would have come to check on you earlier, but the pork— I—” His eyebrows twitched as he took in Lei’s disheveled appearance. “What happened to you?”

Lei seemed reluctant to fuel Kyungsoo’s protective rage. She passed her shirt to Lucas and mumbled, “Wring that out, please.”

I knew that Kyungsoo would stand there, crossing his arms and tapping his foot, until he received an answer, and then lunch would never be finished. Stomach growling, I rose to my feet, grabbed the towel that was draped over the back of my chair, and took a protective stance behind Lei to shield her from curious stares drifting her way from the pool.

Dropping the folded towel onto Lei’s lap, I told Kyungsoo, “Johnny pulled Lei into the deep end of the pool, and—”

“WHAT?” Kyungsoo’s face went white before burning crimson. “But Lei can’t swim!”

Lei forced a smile. “I’m okay, Soo. Johnny kept a hold on me the whole time, and—”

Kyungsoo didn’t seem to hear her. He waddled to the edge of the pool, formed a megaphone around his mouth with his hands, and announced, “Attention, party people!”

In the process of lowering my head in embarrassment, I noticed that Lucas was wringing Lei’s shirt with unnecessary force. Lei was too busy drying her hair with the towel to notice and correct him, so I set to unbuttoning my shirt to offer it to her.

“Do NOT pull people into the pool— especially not the birthday girl! If you do, Minseok will tell you to get out and go home!” Kyungsoo gestured to Minseok, who forced his smile into a threatening glower that probably threatened nobody before Baekhyun yelled, “You don’t scare us!”

Minseok took a step toward Baekhyun, eliciting a scream. I rolled my eyes, and Kyungsoo shook his head before walking back to the grill.

“Lucas!” Lei shrieked and snatched her shirt from him. When she held it against her chest, what once fit perfectly was now two or three sizes too large. “What did you do?”

His only response was, “Oops.”

Lei launched the balled-up shirt at his chest, and her visible disappointment only faded when I, stifling my laughter, dropped my unbuttoned shirt over her shoulders. The sky blue fabric suited her better than me; it made sense that she should keep it, then.

She turned around, looked up at me with wide eyes, and said, “Thank you, Sehun.”

The voice that she spoke to me with was softer than the one she trusted to Ten, Johnny, Minseok, Kyungsoo, and — yes— even Lucas. Something about that made my heart swell.

I nodded to say, “You’re welcome,” because I couldn't string two words together to make a sentence when Lei was looking at me like that.

“Wow, man!” Lucas beamed at me too. “You’re a real hero!”

When Lei turned away from me to laugh at Lucas’s reaction, I crossed my arms over my plain white t-shirt. I guess I was disappointed yet again by her fleeting attention. I just didn’t hold it like I used to.

She frowned at her shirt in Lucas’s hands. “Well, you might as well just throw it away now.”

“Throw it away?” Lucas hugged the shirt against his bare chest. “Just because it doesn’t fit you anymore doesn’t mean it should end up in the trash!”

Lei’s eyebrows shot up at his passionate argument. “What? Do you want it or something?” Lucas nodded his head eagerly, and Lei shrugged before giving him his way. “Whatever. Just don’t hang it up in my closet when it’s your turn to do the laundry.”

“Yay!” Lucas squealed as he flew off of the chair. “Thanks, Lei!”

Smiling, she watched him dash into the house. Then, she took his place in the chair. She pressed her back against the chair, crossed her legs, and draped the towel over them before looking up to see that I was no longer behind her. I was before her. She gasped, raised her hands to shield her eyes from the sun, and the sleeves of my shirt— which were too big for her— slid down her arms.

“Hey, Sehun.” She couldn’t quite smile while squinting her eyes. “Having fun?”

I moved a few steps to the left to block out the sun, and she lowered her hands and laid them flat in her lap.

“I’m having a blast.” Was I being sarcastic? Probably. But I was happy to spend time with her then with few distractions.

“Aren’t you tired of standing?” She tilted her head aside. Patting the space on the chair before her, she suggested, “You can sit with me if you want. Or you can grab that chair over there, and—” She bit on her tongue in surprise when I sat on the edge of her chair at the earliest invitation.

Glancing around at the thriving party, I observed, “You have a lot of friends.” Of course, I knew it, but knowing it in theory was a lot different from seeing it in real life.

“They’re nice.” She smiled, but her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. It reminded me of the void in her chest that she tried to fill with Lucas. It reminded me of the secret that, at least in Donghae’s mind, threatened to clear out this gathering of flirtatious well-wishers.

Suddenly, she sat up straight and motioned for me to move closer. “Come here, I have to tell you a secret.”

Forgetting for a moment that I didn’t want to learn another secret for the rest of my life, I obeyed her. She whispered, “I think they like me because a.) I have a pool, and b.) no matter how much they flirt, I’ll never give in. You know, some people are into that— chasing somebody they can never catch.”

She was flirting with me, I realized, when she winked to mask the blush staining her face.

I tried to flirt back. “Are you into that?”

When she sighed, dropped our eye contact, and forced another smile, I realized that she did not yet know that she caught me. It was still the beginning of reimagining her. It was the beginning of the heart-fluttering moments. I didn’t know where the road into the unknown would lead, but I saw no option other than to follow it— to follow her.

She said, “I was raised to never chase after boys. I’ve only ever followed one—” she nudged me— “and I promised not to do that anymore.”

Even without her pointed touch, I would have known that she was talking about me. Despite the deflation in my chest, I praised her. “Good. Don’t follow anybody. Continue on your path, and if somebody wants to walk with you for a while—”

When she poked my cheek, I realized that I was frowning. Her frown mirrored mine. “Don’t look like that, Sehun. It hurts my feelings.”

For her, I forced a smile, and she laughed an airy sort of laugh. “I dunno why you’re so sentimental today, but—” her eyes widened— “oh.”

“Oh?” My forehead wrinkled. “Oh what?” My heart raced with the fear that she was seeing me clearly.

“We’re on the same path right now.” She smiled, and my heart raced with the hope that she was seeing me clearly.

“We’ve always walked together,” I told her. “It’s just—”

Seeing that I had gone stiff with anxiety, she said, “It’s okay, Sehun. I understand.”

I couldn’t quite believe that she understood, but because I didn’t know the words to explain my feelings, I didn’t say anything.

“It’s probably not going to last.” She didn’t frown, and I couldn't understand how she could smile while saying, “It— we— I know that we won’t be in the same place at the same time forever, but I’m so happy that you’re here now.”

She was crushing me under the weight of an unfamiliar sadness, but I promised, “I’m happy too,” and it wasn’t a lie.

Still smiling, she said, “You can walk with me anytime, Sehun.”

I can’t explain why remembering that makes me want to cry. She was saying something kind— loving— but her words felt so much like a goodbye. Maybe they were a goodbye to days that were already past— the days when she followed my shadow. It felt so much like she would fade or fly away or find another path or another companion if I took the time to blink.

Fear prompted me to grab her hand as if that touch would keep her within arms reach, within eyesight, with me. Her eyes were rounded and filled with every shining star, and I— I had to look away. I had to play off the act of pure affection by digging the tattoo marker out of my pocket.

“I thought you were opposed to marking me like I’m a piece of paper,” she teased.

Probably blushing, I scoffed. “It’s different when I do it.”

She asked her favorite question: “Why?”

“Because I love you,” I almost said, “and I have to show it somehow.”

Instead, I shrugged, closed my eyes, and tried to think of a drawing that would compete with— no, triumph over all of the others on her body. Ideas didn’t come easily. I didn’t watch dramas or read romance novels or even listen to romantic music that much (or at all), so I had to card through my memories until I remembered a craft I did on Valentine’s Day in the third grade.

Then, we dipped our thumb in red paint and pressed it twice to a piece of paper to make a heart to give to our parents. The idea was profound enough, I guess, since it relied on the concept that like no two fingerprints are identical, no two loves are identical.

Bearing that in mind, I coated my thumb with the marker’s black ink and softly pressed a heart into the skin on the back of Lei’s hand.

I watched her smile at the symbol. Just because I was curious to see whether she would react to me the way she reacted to Ten, I raised her hand to my lips and blew on the heart. She didn’t swat at me, glare at me, flinch away, or say anything. She just watched me.

Maybe Lucas was right. Maybe she would make any exception for me. That probably wasn’t wise or safe, so why did her lapse in judgment make me so happy?

“Okay,” she hummed. She snatched the marker before taking my hand in hers. “Your turn!”

Within the blink of an eye, she had placed her heart on my hand. I wanted to carry it everywhere with me. I wanted to boast it to everybody, but I didn’t know how to do that. I didn’t know who to tell. I didn’t know what to say to make them understand how much it meant to me.

Something about the electricity in Lei’s touch— something about the thought that the heart would fade from sight— sent me springing to my feet with the blurted excuse, “I’m not feeling well.”

It wasn’t a lie. Suddenly, my heart was pounding in my chest, ringing in my ears, and my stomach was knotting and rising and sinking, and my palms were sweating, and there was a lump in my throat, and I was sick. I fished the gift box containing the cherry blossom charm for the bracelet that she still wore— that I hoped she would always wear— out of my pocket. Careful not to allow our skin to touch, almost afraid of the shock, I left it in her palm.

I ran into the house, regretting that I sent Chanyeol away with my keys until I found him sitting on the couch, feet propped up on the coffee table.

Through a mouthful of blue icing, Chanyeol asked, “Are you done now?” He glanced over at me and sat upright. “Hey, are you alright? Your face is a little green.”

I shook my head. “I’m sick. I’m going home.”

“Okay. Let’s go, then.” He snatched my keys off the table and stood from the couch. “I was gonna leave, but I don’t know how to drive a stick shift, and—” When I reached out for the keys, he offered, “I’ll drive if you don’t feel good.”

I assured him that I was fine before beelining to the car, keys in hand.

Chanyeol was quiet until I raised my hand to the steering wheel. The moment he saw the heart, he broke into brain-rattling, side-splitting laughter. “Wow.” He wiped amused tears from the corners of his eyes. “I remember doing that craft in, like, first grade. Your girlfriend is real creative.”

Something in my stomach fluttered, and I don’t think I liked it. Tightening my grip on the wheel, I instantly retorted, “It was my idea.” I should have said, “She’s not my girlfriend.”

Chanyeol noticed my mistake. “Oh,” he nodded his head sagely, “so she is your girlfriend!”

My face flushed, and my heart pounded again, and all I could think to say was, “Shut up, Chanyeol.”

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