#was i the dumbass who started two (2) new aus this week?

[s1rawb3rry]

Riding Circles Around You

synopsis: Y/N spirals after seeing her ex... completely unaware to the fact that her closest friend, Heeseung, has been quietly falling for her all along.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: fluff fluff fluff, no smut, some touching, cussing, some angst tbh, low self-esteem, established friendship, heeseung is completely whipped for y/n while shes oblivious to it, hee is kinda a loser in love (i need him so bad...), so really its loser in love x loser also in love but doesnt know it yet

genres: uni AU, slice of life, student!heeseung x student!reader

pairing: enhypen Heeseung x reader

a/n: some tooth rotting hee fluff to satisfy my sweet tooth hehe, enjoyyyy

Taglist: @heestoleurgirl @stariekis @jaehoodies @morganaawriterr @luvashli @kireistrawberryjayla (comment if you want me to add / remove you from the list <3)

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I have been in the same position for the last 2 hours. Sat on the floor, my laptop opened but the screen turned off a long time ago. My eyes lazily, and without purpose, move from my reflection on my laptop screen, to my socks, to the posters hung on my dorm’s walls. My wall clock reads 11:30ish am, I exhaled. I have already wasted so much time... but my frame feels too heavy to move. I have so much work to get to, but this empty– yet heavy– feeling overpowered my actions and thoughts. All I could feel is the crisp, late night air coming from my window into my suffocatingly small room, my messy hair softly moved with the breeze. 

I never knew seeing my ex, let alone with his new girlfriend, would paralyse me this much. We broke up a year ago and even left on good terms. I am genuinely over him, so my perplexity grew when I noticed how small I suddenly felt. I have no reason to feel any of this.  But for some reason, I do. And I hate that I do.

When the image of them together appeared again in the back of my eyes, I winced. It's exactly how I saw them a couple hours ago, my mind refusing to forget the image of the perfect couple: her arms wrapped around his, both of them laughing with that stupidly-in-love smile. His laughter died down before hers did, he looked at her as if she's the one who hung the stars in the sky. They looked at each other as if they were the only two people on earth, which worked in my favor because they didn't notice me. 

My clothes suddenly feel suffocatingly warm on my skin the more details I recall. My laptop was pushed to the side by my feet as I laid on the cool floor, trying to soothe down my burning body. Guilt started to eat at my bones when I noticed that I foolishly hated seeing him happier with her. I wished him and still wish well, but seeing that in front of me is different. It feels like I failed at something that I didn't even want to be anymore. Failed at being a girlfriend. That familiar feeling sank in my chest, the feeling of worthlessness and incompetence in every domain in my life. 

Before I could continue my warfare in my mind and list down my failures as a friend and a daughter, I heard a vibrating sound next to me, followed by my phone screen turning on, illuminating my dim dorm room. My heavy hand reached out for it while I stayed immobile. After blinking a few times to adjust to the brighter light, the text message became clearer.

“Hey, I will be at my dorm soon. We can facetime in 10”  - "Dumbass", Delivered 1 min ago

“Oh fuck me…” i mumbled under my breath, i completely forgot. Heeseung asked me to help him with this project a week ago. My heavy hands struggled to keep my phone up, feeling even more suffocated. Figures, keep proving what a great friend you are…

“hi, I'm sorry. I really don’t feel well… Can we reschedule?”  - "Me", delivered 3 sec ago

I froze in front of my phone, waiting for a response. My heart pounded in my chest, my palms sweaty. A second later my message was read. Another second later… nothing. I stayed in this position for 3 whole minutes, my eyes pacing between the time and the 'me, read 4 mins ago'. 

I turned off my phone, placed it on my chest and succumbed to my new reality: I’m a shitty friend, a shitty girlfriend and a shitty human. I lay there in silence, staring at the ceiling as if it could offer some sympathy or even relief from the sinking feeling in my chest. I closed my eyes to fight the tears that were threatening to come out. 

My phone buzzed again. My eyes flew open, How long have I been sleeping? I didn't want to check my phone, but my hand moved on its own.

“Look out your window. I might be outside with snacks.“ - "Dumbass", Delivered 30 sec ago

I frowned back at my screen, what is he talking about? Before I could figure out what to reply or do, faint jingles of a bell rang from outside my window. I rose to my feet in an instant and walked to my window. As my eyes scanned the quiet street, the faint jingles rang again. “I’m down here,” a voice whispered before chuckling. 

My eyes shifted to the source. There he was, Hee leaning against his bike, looking up at me like this was the most normal thing in the world. He wore his washout blue jeans and his worn out sneakers. His black hood covering his messy, slightly grown out hair. A small white plastic bag could be seen in his bike basket. When our eyes met, his smile grew and I contagiously smiled back. “Hee, what the hell?” I whispered back to him, amusement and confusion laced my voice. 

“Stop treating me like a food delivery service and come down.”  he whispered, adjusting his grip on his bike.  I hesitated for a second, still processing the absurdity of this situation. For just a second, he did look like a food delivery guy, I couldn’t help it but laugh. “You’re insane,” I muttered, shaking my head. A strange pull made me want to go see him,  “I will grab my phone. Give me a minute.” I said before disappearing back to my dorm.

As soon as I opened my door and headed toward the stairs, I could hear his bike bell ring again, faint and playful, like it was telling me to hurry. I rolled my eyes, a small smile tugged at my lips as I sped down the stairs. 

“Are you trying to wake up the whole building?” I asked once I reached the bottom. As I was walking towards him, he smiled at me, “just making sure you don't bail on me again.” he said, a teasing tone in his voice. I grimaced, remembering everything that just happened these past hours. I closed my eyes in embarrassment, not daring to look into his, “Hee, I'm so sorry. That was-" I started apologising but was cut off when I felt something tough and cold wrap my head. I opened my eyes once again to find his gaze softened, making that sinking feeling in my chest less heavy. 

“Hey, you’re fine,“ he said, his voice lower, adjusting the helmet on my head. “I’m not mad.” he continued, his eyes reassuring. I stayed quiet, words slipped away from me as I looked back into his big eyes. His big grin came back before he turned his back to me, “But I will only get you off the hook if you get on.”

I stared at him, puzzled, as he climbed on his bike. “Where are we going?” I asked, my body naturally finding its seat behind him, my arms instinctively wrapped around him. “Guess you’ll have to trust me.” he said, shrugging his shoulders. 

As I opened my mouth to argue, he jerked the handlebars quickly, making the whole bike shake. I yelped and, out of reflex, tightened my grip around him. His laugh echoed as I tried to catch my heart from the sudden movement. 

Before I could say anything, he pushed his leg and had the wheels rolling in a swift motion. The cool night air hit me immediately as we rode through the quiet campus, the breeze felt more refreshing than in my room.  The steady rhythm of the bike’s movement is oddly soothing, making my rest my cheek against his back. The warmth from him was a quiet contrast to the slight chill of the night. For the first time today, my thoughts weren’t so loud.

The campus lights blurred as we passed, we flickering through the trees, until finally, the buildings thinned and I spotted the dim glow of streetlights ahead. He slowed the bike to a stop and kicked the stand into place. He placed a gentle hand on my thigh, grounding me back to reality, “we’re here...” he said, his voice low.

I blinked, pulling my head away from his back. My eyes adjusted to the dim surroundings, taking in the empty space ahead. A playground. I unwrapped my arms from him and planted my feet on the ground. He nodded towards the swings, “c’mon, sit.” he said before he started to fish something out of his basket.

I started dragging my legs towards the swing as they found that heavy feeling again. I flopped on the swing’s seat, slowly swaying my feet as I lean my head on the swing’s cold metal chains. That feeling still clung to me—the weight in my chest, the unease I couldn’t quite shake. 

Hee pulled something out of the basket and started walking over. He held a small crinkly bag in front of me, it took me a moment to adjust to the lack of light to see what it was. My eyes widened once I realized, “Oh, you're kidding…”

He smiled at my reaction and tossed the bag of Hershey’s chocolate dipped pretzels into my lap. “I still judge you for loving those…” he said, watching me rip open the bag and pop one in my mouth, completely ignoring his comment. “Thank you,” I said, my words muffled by the heavenly pretzel in my mouth. 

As I chewed, I felt the swing creak beneath me. Hee’s presence lingered behind me, his hands brushing against my back. With a gentle push, I began to sway slowly, back and forth. “Alright,” he said, disturbing the quiet, “what’s going on?” 

For a moment, I let the swaying movement calm me, ignoring his question and the tight feeling it created in my chest. “I’m fine,” I said finally, keeping my eyes glued to my lap and the ground. I couldn’t see his face, but I’m sure he had that expression— the one that said he could tell I was lying. His voice was quieter now, “You don’t look fine.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, “I just saw my ex today…” I started, unsure how to start telling him everything. “Hated that guy,” he said abruptly, his voice laced with disgust. I snorted a laugh, “you hate all my exes.” I said, looking up at him while still swaying in the swing. 

“Yeah, can you blame me? He looks like a spoon.” he remarked. I bursted out laughing, making my swing halt its movement.

When my laughter died down, I found Hee unmoved behind me, looking at me with those bambi eyes. He brushed my hair out of my face, gently collecting it to the back, “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

The softness in his tone made my heart beat a little stronger. His warm hands lingered around my face and neck, leaving a buzzing feeling on my skin. “I don’t know…” I drifted off, trying to figure out what to say without sounding pathetic, “I think seeing him again, and seeing him happy, made me realise how I wasn’t enough for him. That made me think I wasn't enough for anyone or anything.” 

Heeseung didn’t say anything right away, he just kept brushing my hand with his hands. “Y/N,” he said quietly, “you were enough for him. If he didn’t see that, that’s on him, not you.” he continued, “And the idea that you’re not enough for anyone or anything? We both know that's bullshit.”

I exhale, nodding in agreement, “I know, my thoughts escalated faster than I could ration, I believe.” I said, looking in front of me, focusing on the dimly lit playground. 

No more words were exchanged, the silence between us stretched for a moment. You could only hear the sound of my swing swaying. I could feel the breeze against my face, the sound of the night, and his presence behind me, steady and comforting. As I was lost in my – much calmer– thoughts, my eyes landed on his parked bike. 

“Hee?” I called out.

“Yes, pretty girl?” 

“I have a confession to make.” I announced. I could feel his touch on my back lose its rhythm for a moment, “you’ve got my full attention.” 

“I don’t know how to ride a bike.” I said calmly as a matter of fact, keeping my gaze in front of me. I furrowed my brows when I felt him completely pause his movement, making me turn around. When he saw my face, it dawned on him, “oh, you’re not joking." he said, almost to himself. “Why would I be joking?” I shot back, popping another pretzel in my mouth. 

“How have you managed this long without knowing?” He asked, sounding surprised. I shrugged, “been a passenger princess since birth,” I winked, looking up at him. He laughed, slowly moving from behind me, his hands leaving my shoulders. I watched his figure grab the bike and walk it right in front of me with a small grin, “Well, guess it’s time to change that.”

I raised an eyebrow at him, “I'm not so sure about that.” I said, shaking my head. “Come on, see it as an apology for canceling our plans,” he insisted, tilting his head to the side. I looked at the bike and then at him, those big bambi eyes looking back at me again.

I sighed in defeat and got up from the swing. He held the bike in balance while I held the handlebars and perched myself on the seat. I could feel the weight of the bike under me, “You want to kill me,” I whispered in disbelief. 

He laughed, “you got this, doll. Just go in a straight line. I will stay right next to you.” 

I took a deep breath and pushed my leg off the ground, making the bike move forward. The motion was jerky, “Oh my god,” I muttered to myself, trying to focus on keeping the bike steady. Hee was right behind me, “that's it…” he encouraged. I tried to focus, but the bike wobbled wildly beneath me, the wheels turning too fast, and my legs couldn’t keep up with the movement. I tried to straighten myself, instead I overcorrected, veering to the left, no longer having control over the bike. 

I shrieked as I crashed straight into him, sending both of us tumbling onto the grass. The bike clattered beside us, as we tried to catch our breaths from the adrenaline and the laughter. “I think you need more than just a straight line,” he said between laughs, his face so close I could feel the warmth of his breath against my cheek.

As the laughter faded, we stayed lounged on the grass, facing each other. His eyes were closed, but a clear smile on his face. My own eyes studied and traced the outlines of his features while I could, quietly soaking in the moment. "You really didn’t have to do any of this,"

He opened his eyes, catching my gaze. He shrugged. "Yeah, well... it’s for you."

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is:  @wynnyfryd! Wynnyfryd has 34 fics in the Stranger Things fandom and all of them are in the Steddie tag!

i don’t know, you figure it out

Plot Holes

biting you biting you biting you- oh! kissing you!

Satanic Ritual: DO NOT WATCH!!

She's got some of the FUNNIEST writing in this fandom, and it's very snappy too like. She's an editing demon for sure, she can take a concept that I'd think would take paragraphs to explain and find the right words to make it hit just as hard with like, two sentences. I also really really love how descriptive her metaphors are, really visceral sometimes, and she's really good at writing realistic life events but still making them fun to read about even when it's about like, devastating shit. The sex she writes is also intense as hell! -- @griefabyss69

Below the cut, @wynnyfryd answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

I am but a humble bisexual — I see two beautiful brown-eyed men makin’ beautiful brown eyes at each other, I go a little insane for two years. It is what it is.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

late-night moments of quiet hopeful hesitant intimacy over a shared joint or cigarette. Thin wisp of smoke between them, stars dancing in their eyes. Yeah. YEAHHHHHHH 

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

This isn’t really a trope so much as a dynamic, but I love a good dipshit 4 dingus dialogue-heavy scene. Don’t get me wrong, I think Eddie and Steve can both be very smart and knowledgeable in their areas of interest/expertise, but these are two young dudes with no access to the internet. I love letting them be confidently incorrect dumbasses. Just ‘yes and’-ing each other’s stupidity while an exasperated third character begs for mercy.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

Well, this question is impossible and furthermore rude. This question came into my home and didn’t take its muddy boots off. This question never mailed me a thank you letter for my lovely wedding gift. That blender was expensive; the absolute nerve. No but seriously, I think The Lathe by palmviolet is going to stay with me forever.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

I’m a big fan of doing canon divergence from different jumping off points — the beauty of having characters live in the same small town their whole lives is that you get so many great opportunities for these “what if our paths crossed sooner” moments.  I have some very loose notes for a S3 fic where Eddie is the movie theater employee who finds Steve and Robin in the bathroom after they escape the Russians, and I also have an old WIP set between S1 and S2 where lifeguard Steve rescues Eddie and then spends the summer teaching him how to swim. Would love to revisit those after I finish the trailer park AU (which I will be referring to as TPAU because my fingers are tired and because ‘toilet paper au’ makes me laugh.)

What is your writing process like?

Uhhhhh. 😂 I mean, for TPAU, basically just insert the scene from Dune 2 of Paul’s first sandworm ride: I’m shaking I’m sweating there is sand in my nostrils and I am surely about to die— oh wait, maybe I’ve actually got this? Am I actually doing it? Oh shit, look at me go!   For one-shots I like to use a more structured outline and bracket method. I start by dividing my doc into numbered scenes, with each scene getting a notes section and a prose section, like this:

This format gives me a lot of freedom to switch up the order of scenes and to move between scenes so I avoid writer’s block. I can also jump ahead to scenes I really want to write without making a mess of my outline. Once I have something written in the prose section of each scene, I go back and work on replacing each bracket with prose until there are no brackets left. Lastly, I create a new blank doc and copy the prose over in order so I can read the full fic and work on edits from there.  

Do you have any writing quirks?

I have been known to abuse a semicolon. And an em dash. And a conjunction at the start of a sentence. Yes, I do have ADHD.   I’m also a lyricist, so I feel like my prose tends to stray into poetry territory pretty often.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

When I’m finished! Which is probably why I tend to stick to one-shots; I get impatient and want to post stuff the second it’s ready.

Which fic are you most proud of?

‘i don’t know, you figure it out’ for SURE. I’ve never written a fic this long or stuck to a writing project this consistently in my life. Like ever. The last time I even came close was my first NaNoWriMo when I was 16, which was, uh… years ago, plural, and I’ll leave it at that. 😂

How did you get the idea for i don’t know, you figure it out?

“There’s a dead rat on his doorstep.” That’s it. That first sentence/scene popped into my head while I was bored at work, and then I started thinking, “hey, you know what? I don’t know that anyone’s ever done a fic where Max and Steve trade places for S4; that might be fun.”  And then NaNoWriMo was coming up, so I thought it would be cool to try live posting a fully improvised fic every day for a month to see how many words I could write. And then this tragic wet cat version of Steve Harrington grabbed me by the throat and took over my whole life.

When writing Satanic Ritual: DO NOT WATCH!!, what was something you didn’t expect?

How SAPPY these two got!! My god, boys, I’m trying to write smut over here, stop having a beautiful existential crisis! (I blame Briston Maroney for that though lol, I think I listened to ‘Body’ like 1400 times that month.)

What inspired Satanic Ritual: DO NOT WATCH!!?

@inklessletter posted this totally gorgeous art of Steve and Eddie recording themselves kissing, and I promptly lost my mind.  

What was your favorite part to write from biting you biting you biting you- oh! kissing you!?

This exchange: Steve: “What? I’m just asking!” Robin: “You’re being embarrassing!” Steve: “No, you’re just embarrassed. There’s a difference.” Like it’s just so them lmao

How do/did you feel writing i don’t know, you figure it out?

You know when you set out on a long hike in the summer and three hours later your calves are screaming and you’re covered in sweat and your sunburn’s starting to itch and this one horse fly won’t fuck off and your cell phone doesn’t even get service out here so literally WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO YOURSELF, and then you climb that last hill and look out on the most beautiful landscape you’ve ever seen in your silly little life? Basically that.

What was the most difficult part of writing Plot Holes?

Ooh, that one was fun! The only real difficulty was trying to keep it to a microfic because the concept could definitely be fleshed out to a full story — @griefabyss69 and I were joking around about “what if someone did ‘plot hole’ for the @steddiemicrofic prompt fill?” and then that fic just fell out of my head in about 15 minutes. 

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

For sure! I’m currently super proud of the graveyard scene in the most recent update of TPAU — I don’t write true horror often, but I love horror so it was really fun to give it a try! Favorite line from any fic is probably this reference to ‘You’re Divine’ in my fic Monsoon Season because I love uncomfortably-aroused prude Eddie, and his internal monologue cracks me up every time I think about it: Freddie Monsoon’s debut novel is called The Fourth Chime, and it is, as far as Eddie can tell, the first installment in a series of unapologetically filthy fuck fests about a man whose lover gets flung into an alternate dimension during an apocalyptic event and miraculously returns as some sort of… sexy bat-boy with a fucking horse dong and a bite kink. Critics are calling it “the most romantic novel of the last decade.” It’s me; I’m Critics.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

My main project right now is finishing TPAU if it kills me, but beyond that, I have a few one-shots for @subeddieweek in the works, including a collab with @griefabyss69 that I’m so so SO excited to share. It’s hot, it’s funny, I can’t wait for y’all to read it. 

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

First of all, as @wormdebut would say: I think you’re pretty. Thank you so much for all your hard work! I love this blog, and I love answering questions <3 Secondly: - Preheat your oven to 400 degrees. - Toss cubed sweet potatoes and parsnips, sliced sweet onion, and fresh garlic in a mix of olive oil, salt, pepper, and rosemary, and then spread in a single layer on a foil-lined baking sheet.  - Bake for ~40-45 minutes. (Potatoes and parsnips should be soft without being mushy when you poke them with a fork.) - Prep your sauce: I made a dijon drizzle situation by mixing olive oil mayo, a dash of dijon mustard, lemon juice, salt, pepper, garlic powder, and a splash of water, but you could also add a little dab of hot sauce, bbq sauce, or different mustards. Basically just grab like four condiments out of your fridge and play around with the flavors you like until you make a mix that’s thin enough to pour. - Drizzle roasted veggies with sauce. - Enjoy a very tasty side dish (or do what I did and eat the whole sheet as a meal like some sort of parsnip goblin because you were too lazy to make the main dish after chopping all those veggies) okay thank you love you byeeeee

Thank you to our author, @wynnyfryd, and our nominator, @griefabyss69! See more of Wynnyfryd's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[sleepy-spacetronaut]

When the Mystery Shack acquired a feisty gremlin

Start note: (22/11/2024) I have been experimenting a lot with designing Bill Cipher alternates and although they all have some points of resemblance, they have their own energy of a sort. Once the hyperfixation is over I will switch back to brainstorming lore for my personal projects, but this little experimental phase gave me a kick for making more emotional expressions and comic-format drawings. Also, I randomly started to write short fanfiction chapters for this design, my imagination has been running wild in the past few months, so stay tuned for potential story bits!

(Edit on D/M/Y: 07/12/2024: The reason this is the 4th design is because I had this drawing made in the beginning of November, but had not gotten the chance to post since my phone was unusable for about two whole weeks, so I switched to digital art in the meantime.

*will add ID for bottom picture later

One more idea that flashed through my head recently— if Bill can be a Tumblr Sexyman, then he also could total be a short, stocky and gremlin-like in a human form. Held he ravaging the pantry, causing a major ruckus in the shack, fighting children over candy—-Gosh, the POTENTIAL of this, if put in the Handyman Bill (credit to @/ on twitter) AU is endless.

Hypothetical scenarios with this design:

Ford, opening the door to get out of the Shack: What the—?

Bill, slouching on the shack’s doorstep: Hey Fordsy , guess who’s baaaack! Did you miss me, admit it, you missed me ! >:^)

Ford: … I may have missed you last time, but guess what? My aim has gotten BETTER!

Bill: *sits upright and stops smiling, now looking confused* Wuh—?

Ford: *punts him like a soccer ball*

Bill: *Shrieks while flying away and disappears with a twinkle in the sky*

Mabel and Dipper: SCOOOOORE! 📢

————————————

[After Bill had been caught red handed raiding the pantry and eating all the snacks]

Stan: *pulls out a pair of regular handcufs and tries to put them onto Bill’s wrists* There! Problem solved! Now you can’t get your grubby paws into the pantry—

*the shackles immediately slide off and fall to the floor with a metallic thud*

Bill and Stan stare at the ground rather dumbly. Bill snorts.

Bill, cackling and pumping his fists into the air: AHAHA! YES! YESSSSS! Finaly something good came out of theses acursed baby hands! SUCK IT, FEZ—-!

Stan: *unceremoniously picks him up by the scruf of the shirt*

Bill:*his tiny face flushing red with anger* Wh- What the heck!? Put me down! * starts to wriggle* STANLEY PINES, YOU ABSOLUTE FOOL, YOU MEASLY WORM WITH CATARACTS ! YOU DUMBASS! PUT ME DOWN OR I’LL— I’LL-

Stan: *goes over to the coat hanger hook on the wall and hangs Bill by the fabric of his shirts, grinning triumphantly* Or you’ll what? Steal my kneecaps? You’re powerless, Cipher. For once just admit that you lost and quit rummaging through our food!

Bill:*stops wiggling like a worm to stare daggers at Stanley*…I’m gonna scream and get your ass fined and incarcerated for child abuse. >:(

———————————

Stan, to Soos: I made a mistake by giving that menace a tricycle; he’s been rolling on it after my ankles ever since.

*Bill approaching rapidly in the background on his tricycle, a stick in hand*

Bill: HWOOOOYA! Take THAT, old fart! *smacks Stan’s shins repeatedly*

Stan: *glowers* that’s IT, I’m selling you on the internet, you ankle bitter. 

(And this is how the Pines officially acquired a new puny arch nemesis to replace the menace that was Gideon Gleeful.)

Wake up democracy, it is Polling Time!

I don’t have a preference when it comes to my Bill designs, but if love to know what’s your take on them and see if we got any favourite.

For reference, here are the links to each design, but I recommend to just look through my pinned post for additional art or info.

Design 1

Design 2

Design 3

Design 4 (it’s this post! Scroll up🔝 )

Design 5

End note: I will perhaps make a short fanfic with this concept but it will be much later, as I have already Vogelfrei to work on and Rewind the Timeline. Feel free to check out the story concept for both fanfic ideas on my pinned post. Have a great day/afternoon/evening/night, fellow tumbkerfolks!

[nightttdreamers]

Night Shift | Craig x Kenny

first chapter of my new crenny fic! yeah its a fake dating AU but it’s going to be super fun and just the right amount of cheesy. very excited to share!

AO3 Link | 4k words | Chapter 1/? | Chapter 2

“Hey, McCormick,” Craig says. “You’ll do anything for a buck, right?”

Kenny cocks his head at the question. “What? I mean, it depends. But, kinda, yeah.”

Craig takes a deep breath before he asks, “You wanna be my boyfriend?”

Craig switched to the night shift.

It wasn’t hard, because no one wants the night shift at a 24 hour convenience store. When his manager, a greasy twenty-six year-old, asked him why, Craig just said he wanted time after school for extracurriculars. It was the same excuse he told his parents, who, instead of wondering why their son wanted to work from 9:00PM to 2:00AM, just said, “You do extracurriculars?”

Tolkien, Clyde, and Jimmy didn’t believe that excuse however, so he told them that he’d be making more money instead, which seemed to work.

Thankfully, nobody asked further than that.

It’s not too bad. Craig hates customers and he sees them way less than he did when he was working after school. He just sits behind the counter, plays games on his phone, does the occasional bit of homework, and tries not to think. Recently, he’s been testing the limits of the security cameras, trying to figure out blind spots. Not because he cares if people steal, of course, he couldn’t give less of a fuck. It’s just something to keep him occupied until the five hours run out.

He’s been on the night shift for over two weeks now, and he’s gotten used to the routine. He knows the students that come in after football games before they head off to their parties he’s not invited to. He knows which truck drivers will let him bum a cigarette from the packs they buy. And he knows that after midnight the store is completely dead.

Except this particular night, apparently. At one in the morning, the door opens. Craig looks up from his phone, first seeing a flash of blonde hair that makes his heart sink. But, then the blonde turns around and Craig has to hide the relief on his face.

“Craig Tucker?”

Kenny says his name with a strange familiarity, like he’s reuniting with an old friend instead of a classmate he barely speaks to. He’s not wearing that stupid traffic cone-colored parka he always has on, but instead a beat-up denim jacket, which is why Craig almost had him mistaken at first. 

“Yeah?” Craig responds, raising his brows. The last thing he wants to do right now is talk to anyone from school. At least it's Kenny and not any of his idiot friends. Craig classifies Kenny as a low-level dumbass, somewhat harmless, while Stan and the others are Certified Douchebags.

“When did you start working here?” Kenny asks, stepping up to the counter.

Fuck, he wants a conversation. “I don’t know, a while ago,” Craig replies.

“But where’s the usual night shift guy? Are you covering for him?” Kenny leans over the counter a bit while he speaks, which is a little too close for comfort. Craig avoids his eyes, instead looking down at what appears to be a spot of dried blood on his white t-shirt.

“Are you bleeding?” He asks.

“Probably. Did you trade shifts with the other guy? Me and him were just starting to become pals, you know?” Kenny’s bright eyes are bouncing around everywhere as he leans back again, glancing over candy bars and cigarette cartons and five-hour energy drinks on the counter. His general enthusiasm is making Craig feel more exhausted. He wonders if the blonde is on something. He’s heard some shit about what Kenny does when he’s missing school.

“I switched shifts like two weeks ago,” Craig replies, still looking at the blood stain, which actually looks a bit fresh in the light.

“Uh-huh, got it,” Kenny nods, finally leaving the counter to look through the aisles. Craig lets out a sigh, picking up his phone again to return to his game. After a minute or so, Kenny pipes up from the chip aisle. “Hey, didn’t you and Tweek break up two weeks ago?”

Craig grips his phone, looking up at Kenny who seems to be really interested in a bag of chips right now. “Why do you care?” It’s a genuine question, but Craig still tries to sound nonchalant when he asks it.

“‘Cause gossip is fun? I dunno,” the other responds flippantly, moving on to a bag of pretzels instead. He’s turned away now, moving further down the aisle, unaware that Craig is staring daggers at him. “I heard he dumped you in the parking lot and you got so mad you smashed a car window, then got in-school-suspension for two days.”

Craig slams his phone down on the counter, but Kenny doesn’t even flinch, simply turning back to him with an innocent expression.

“What?” The other asks. “Bebe told me that she saw the whole thing.”

“She-” Craig begins, nearly raising his voice. He cuts himself off, however, gritting his teeth for a moment. “Bebe is a fucking liar.”

Kenny seems to think about this accusation before responding. “Yeah, I didn’t really believe her,” he says, then ducks into another aisle. With Kenny out of sight, Craig deflates, running a hand through his hair. He’s no stranger to gossip in South Park, in fact he might be a veteran, but it’s been a while since someone regurgitated some bullshit they heard to his face. He can’t even be too mad, considering he’s talked plenty about every other breakup in their school- Stan and Wendy, Tolkien and Wendy, Tolkien and Nichole, Nichole and Kyle, in their small school, other people’s drama is prime entertainment.

The part of it that pisses him off isn’t that people are spreading rumors about the breakup. It’s the fact that, across every untrue story, people still know that it was Tweek who dumped Craig .

Kenny drops a 6-pack of beer on the counter and Craig is so preoccupied with his thoughts that he nearly rings it up before realizing what the item is. “Is this a joke?” Craig asks, looking back up at Kenny.

“Is what a joke?” The other asks, idly picking at his lower lip with his thumb. He pulls back the skin slightly, flashing a missing tooth, though it doesn’t look like he’s even aware of what he’s doing.

“Do you seriously think I’m going to let you buy this?” He says flatly. Kenny gives him a confused look, like he sincerely doesn’t know why Craig won’t check him out. “You’re not 21 McCormick, fuck off.”

“Are you sure about that?” Kenny asks, shuffling around in his pocket before pulling out a wad of cards and cash, held together by a rubber band. He slides a card out and places it on the counter, right in front of Craig.

It’s just about the worst fake ID he’s ever seen. It’s from Wyoming, the man in the picture barely resembles Kenny except for the blonde hair, and the text is chipping in certain places. Craig picks it up, bending the card just to see how flimsy it is.

Kenny is leaning on the counter again, wearing that stupid grin he always seems to sport as he watches Craig. “So, you’re twenty-seven,” Craig deadpans.

“Yes, sir,” Kenny chirps, eyeing the nicotine products. “And a pack of camels too,” he says, then adds, “Please.”

Craig sighs, putting the ID back on the counter. “I’m not selling you anything, McCormick.”

Kenny’s smile falters, though he tries to keep it up as his hand moves from his mouth to the back of his neck, anxiously rubbing it. “Come on, man. The other night guy always took my ID. You can ask him, too. He never even got in trouble for it.” Craig simply stares at him, eyes narrow. His shift ends in less than an hour, he just wants to go home and ignore everyone, not deal with an idiot like Kenny. “Craig,” Kenny says, almost whining . “Do me a solid, I’m not even gonna drink it. It’s for my dad and he’ll get pissed, okay?”

It’s not like Craig really cares about Kenny enough to look into his personal life, but it’s impossible not to know that he doesn’t have it easy at home. And maybe it’s because he’s sleep deprived, or he just wants Kenny to leave already, but Craig grabs the Camels. “Whatever.”

Kenny grins now, somehow even wider than before, as he drums his fingers on the counter. “I knew you were a good guy. You know, everyone thinks you’re an asshole, but I knew you weren’t.”

Craig scans each item, trying to convince himself that this isn’t a terrible idea. “I am an asshole,” he says. “And that’s $17.02”

Once again, Kenny flips through his rubber-band wad and pulls out a twenty. Instead of just handing it over, he places it on the counter, then slowly slides it to Craig. “Keep the change.”

Craig, unamused, takes the bill, glancing up at Kenny. “Really?”

“Hell no,” Kenny says with a laugh, grabbing his change once Craig puts it on the counter. He pauses, then leaves three dimes on the table. “There, you can keep that change.”

“I’ll try not to spend it all in one place,” he says, turning back to the cash register. Kenny picks up his items, but lingers by the counter, and Craig can feel his blue eyes on him. “What? Do you want a receipt or something?”

“So it’s true, then?” Kenny asks. Then, when Craig gives him a confused look, he says, “You and Tweek broke up?”

“Do you really want to push your luck with me right now, McCormick?” Craig asks, hopefully in a threatening enough voice that Kenny gets the message.

Instead, the blonde just laughs like this is some inside joke between the two of them and heads out the door, throwing a wave back at Craig as he exits.

In the wake of Kenny McCormick, the store feels almost eerily quiet, rather than the peaceful stillness that it was before. Still, Craig exhales, grateful that the entire interaction is over. He returns to his mindless phone game and tries not to think about Tweek or Kenny or even stupid Bebe spreading rumors about him.

School had been more annoying than usual. He and Tweek entered their senior year together, how was Craig supposed to know they wouldn’t finish it like that? Their schedules overlapped for three periods: History, calculus, and lunch. In class, he and Tweek always sat next to each other, so it wasn’t too difficult to just sit in the back instead, though some people were pissed that their unofficial seating chart had been messed with after three months of peace. He’d sit with the goths or the ugly kids and ignore the twitchy blonde across the room, constantly pretending that he wasn’t just staring when Tweek would catch his wayward glances.

Lunch, however, was more difficult. In the first few days, he avoided the cafeteria entirely, opting to eat alone in his car instead. Sure, if someone saw him it would be social suicide, but that would be better than sitting with his ex-boyfriend. By the end of the first week, Clyde had called him on the verge of tears, begging his best friend to come back and sit with them. Apparently, Tweek had started eating lunch in the art room instead, something that he told Clyde that he had texted Craig. What neither of them knew, however, was that Craig had blocked Tweek’s number the day they broke up.

So, he went back to eating lunch with his friends. Tolkien and Clyde sitting across from him, and Jimmy on his side, leaving an odd space as if Tweek is going to come and sit between them like he usually does. There’s a certain stiffness at the table that certainly wasn’t there before, and Craig understands that it’s probably his fault. He’s caused a few awkward moments when they’ve tried to ask about Tweek by quickly dropping the subject or just ignoring it entirely. Even their attempts to talk to him about anything at all are unsuccessful, as Craig is much more interested in staring silently at his food while he counts the minutes until lunch is over.

Today, he once again brings an uncomfortable energy to the lunch table. However, instead of fixating on his shitty meal, he’s looking right at Clyde. He didn’t want to linger on the rumor Kenny had told him the other night, but he couldn’t help it. Did Clyde tell Bebe about what happened and she decided to make up a more interesting story? Or did Bebe tell him what she “saw” and Clyde simply believed her? 

“What’s up, Craig?” Clyde asks, knitting his brows together. The two have made eye contact a few times over the last few minutes, but this is the first time Clyde hasn’t immediately looked away. The others at the table turn their attention to the two, feeling the tension.

“Clyde, when you and Bebe go out, do you guys just sit around and talk about my love life?” Craig asks. It comes out a bit harsher than he intends, but he’s always been one to be straightforward.

Clyde just gives him a confused look, then Craig watches the subsequent realization and fear come across his face. “What?”

“I heard a really interesting story from your girlfriend about how I got dumped, then broke a car window and got ISS,” Craig replies. “So I just wanted to know, do you guys sit and talk about my love life all the time, or just sometimes?”

“Wait, I thought t-t-that you tried to set f-fire to the car?” Jimmy says, which earns him a death glare from Craig.

“Don’t be mad,” Clyde whines, giving his friend a nervous smile. “It was just a rumor, I didn’t even believe her when she told me! I actually walked past the ISS room just to look for you.”

“So you do sit around and lie about my personal life,” Craig says, narrowing his eyes at Clyde. He then turns to Jimmy. “And you too? Tolkien, do you have any stories about my life I haven’t heard yet?” 

Tolkien, not as easily goaded into drama as Clyde, just shrugs. “Everyone was talking about it, man.”

Craig exhales, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And none of you just asked me?”

“We tried!” Clyde exclaims, earning a few hums of agreement from the rest of the group. 

“You didn’t really want to talk about it when we asked,” Tolkien adds.

Craig presses his lips together in a firm line. He can’t really argue with that. In the days after the break up, he didn’t have in-school suspension, he just faked a cold and stayed home, giving him plenty of time to just think about all of the things that would be different now. Besides the obvious, giant void in his life that Tweek left behind, there was also the issue of their mutual friends, which neither of them would want to lose. Craig knew that Tweek had forfeited lunch, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t in contact with their friends at all. The last thing Craig wanted was to make anyone choose sides.

To him, it felt like it would be in everyone’s best interest if he just left his friends out of it.

“Well, none of that stuff is true,” Craig mumbles, pushing the food on his tray around with his fork.

“So you d-didn’t set a car on fire?” Jimmy asks, scooting a bit closer to Craig.

“Or break the window?” Clyde adds.

“No,” Craig says flatly, rolling his eyes.

“And you didn’t get ISS?” Tolkien asks.

“No.”

“And Tweek didn’t break up with you?” Clyde asks, almost sounding hopeful.

Craig grips his fork tightly, staring down at the table. He pushes the tray of food away from himself, looking back up at three sets of curious eyes. “That’s- Yeah, he did.”

“Really? Like, he dumped you ?” Clyde doesn’t even try to hide the disbelief in his voice. Tolkien elbows him in the side at the comment, shooting Clyde a glare before turning to Craig with a sympathetic look.

“That sucks, man. I’m sorry,” he says, and Craig wants to crawl into his hoodie and never be seen again.

“It’s whatever,” Craig says, once again looking back down at the table. “I just don’t get why everyone thinks that I’m the one who got dumped.” 

The rest of the boys exchange glances, and Craig hates the silent debate they seem to be having over his head. “C-c-can I be honest with you for a second, p-pal?” Jimmy finally says, reaching up to put a hand on Craig’s shoulder.

“Go ahead,” Craig replies.

“In a b-b-breakup, there’s usually a winner, a-and a loser,” he begins, and Craig has a bad feeling that he knows where this is going. “Usually, the p-person who dumps the other is the w-w-winner.”

“What makes you guys think I’m not the winner?” Craig asks, looking between his friends. Once again, no one seems to want to answer.

“W-well, Craig, you k-k-kind of look like shit,” Jimmy finally says.

Craig scoots back from him, rolling the other’s hand off his shoulder. “Fuck off, Jimmy.” 

“He’s only saying that because we’re worried about you,” Tolkien says. “You barely talk to anyone, you always have your headphones in, plus now that you have the stupid night shift, basically no one has seen you outside of school.”

“We’re totally here for you, dude,” Clyde says, nodding in agreement. “Breakups are so hard, especially for the loser.”

“Thanks, Clyde,” Craig says flatly, moving to pick up his backpack.

Clyde winces at the remark. “I didn’t mean it like that. Don’t leave, man, you can talk to us!”

Craig stands, sliding his backpack over his shoulders. There’s still twenty minutes left in the period, but if he sits there any longer he might just explode. 

“W-w-we don’t think of you like that, C-Craig,” Jimmy adds, and Craig knows that he’s being sincere. If his friends think he’s handling the breakup badly, that’s okay with him. What’s not okay is that, apparently, Tweek is walking around doing just fine without him.

“It’s fine, I don’t care,” Craig says, picking up his tray. “You can all think what you want, okay? I’m fine. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

He can hear his friends calling his name, but Craig is already walking away from the table, trying not to be so aware of everyone’s eyes on him as he storms out of the lunchroom.

As he walks away from the table, he can hear his friends call his name, but it’s too late. Craig spends the rest of lunch alone under the bleachers, smoking a cigarette while his headphones blast Radiohead, acutely aware that he really does look like a loser.

Days later, he’s still thinking about it. Craig stands in the snack aisle, restocking the instant noodles, while it repeats like a mantra in his head; Tweek won, you lost.

It’s now been almost three weeks since the breakup. Three weeks of staring at the other’s blocked contact in his phone, deleting shared playlists, and aimlessly scrolling through old photos like he’ll find something he missed before, something that explains why . When they had their last conversation, Tweek had said “I think we both knew this was going to happen,” and all Craig could say in response was “What are you talking about?”

He looks down at the cup noodles in his hand. Suddenly, just lifting his arm to put it on the shelf feels like the hardest task in the world.

“I really don’t think that’s the best flavor choice,” pipes up a voice from beside him, and Craig jolts upright, turning to the stranger.

Kenny is standing at the end of the aisle in his dirty orange parka, hands shoved in his pocket, wearing the shit-eating grin he always has on.

“When did you get here?” Craig asks, letting his shoulders relax as he returns to his restock. He keeps his face down, hoping that Kenny didn’t see his momentary existential crisis just then.

“Like, a minute ago. Did you not hear the bell when I came in?” Kenny steps closer, peering over Craig’s shoulder at the products. “I guess not, you seemed pretty into these noodles. But, I gotta say, I think shrimp’s the worst flavor. Not that I know what real shrimp would taste like, but the cup noodle flavor is just too fake.”

Craig’s barely listening, trying to finish quickly. He just wants to go back behind the counter where he’s safe because Kenny is way too close to him right now. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he says, turning to walk away from the other.

Kenny, however, follows right behind him. “Have you ever made ramen chips? You just put the seasoning in the bag then you crush the ramen up and eat it like that. Like, no need for hot water or anything. My brother and I used to make it all the time. It’s just like chips, it’s pretty good.”

“Mhm,” he hums. Luckily, Kenny isn’t facing him, or he’d see the grimace on Craig’s face right now. The dark-haired boy steps behind the counter, finally separating himself from Kenny, dropping the empty ramen box on the floor beside him. 

“What did you think of the chem quiz today?” Kenny asks, flipping through the magazine rack.

The question catches him off-guard, and it takes Craig a second to realize that, oh yeah , Kenny is in his chemistry class. The blonde usually hides himself away in the back corner if he even attends class at all. “It was fine, I guess.”

Kenny nods. “Yeah, I think all this gas stuff has been tripping me up. I pretty much bullshitted the last page, but I think Mrs. Dawson wants to fuck me so I’ll probably be okay. I swear, every time she goes to help Kevin Stoley with a problem, she bends over right in front of me so I can see her ass. Like, it’s totally on purpose.”

“Are you here to buy something or just talk about random shit?” Craig asks. 

Kenny doesn't respond at first, and Craig can see the way his smile falters, how he stops flipping through the magazines for a second. When he looks up, his expression is sheepish, and Craig feels like an asshole.

“Sorry,” Kenny finally says. “I’m rambling, right? I’m kinda high, the guys always get annoyed at how much I talk when I smoke.”

He’s never been great at reading people, but it’s pretty obvious he just hit one of Kenny’s nerves. Before he can really think about it, he finds himself saying, “No, I’m sorry.” Both boys look surprised at the apology, and Craig figures he’d better explain himself. “You’re fine, I’m just tired and it’s been a shit day.”

Kenny’s expression softens, and Craig feels a bit lighter. “It’s okay,” he says. “I can’t blame you, dude. I guess you heard about Tweek, huh?”

The air in the room stills for a second as the two exchange a panicked glance.

“Shit, I shouldn’t have-” Kenny starts.

“What about Tweek?” Craig cuts him off, but Kenny keeps talking.

“I’m high, I’m rambling, just forget about it. Fuck.”

“Kenny,” Craig says, watching as the other mutters to himself, shaking his head. “Kenny!” He repeats, louder this time.

“It’s nothing,” Kenny says, but the high pitch of his voice tells Craig it’s definitely not nothing. “It’s a rumor, total bullshit.”

Craig sighs, knowing he probably shouldn’t ask. But he already lies awake at night thinking about what Tweek’s doing without him, he might as well lie awake knowing what his ex is up to. “Just tell me.”

Kenny gnaws on his lip for a second, nervously picking at the hem of his jacket before he speaks. “Don’t shoot the messenger, okay? But there was this thing at the skate park a few days ago and I heard that Tweek showed up with Pete Thelman.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Craig exclaims, causing Kenny to flinch.

“I said don’t shoot the messenger!” Kenny says, raising his hands defensively. “All I heard was that they were there together, it’s literally nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

Craig barely hears the other, already feeling a pit in his chest starting to form. He wants to bash his head against the counter or trash the entire convenience store. But, he also wants to curl up on the floor and never be seen again. While he’s wasting away every day in the back of his classes, or locked in his room, or working the worst job at a near-empty store, Tweek is okay. Of course everyone knows he got dumped, apparently his ex is already moving on.

“Craig, are you good?” Kenny asks, leaning over the counter a bit. “Should I like, call someone?”

For the last few weeks, Craig has felt like there was a hole inside him, slowly growing to consume every part of his life. But, right now, something feels different. Even if it is a bullshit rumor, hearing about Tweek like this is sparking something in him.

He’s fucking pissed.

“Hey, McCormick,” Craig says. “You’ll do anything for a buck, right?”

Kenny cocks his head at the question. “What? I mean, it depends. But, kinda, yeah.”

Craig takes a deep breath before he asks, “You wanna be my boyfriend?”

[slightlyrebelliouswriter23]

Fine Line | Jurdan Quarantine AU

Written for Jurdan Week 2020, hosted by @jurdannet​ | Day 4- Song Crossover (Adore You by Harry Styles requested by @mysweetvilllain​ )

Chapter Rating: M

CW: mature themes, explicit descriptions, vulgar language, eventual explicit content.

Summary: Two vindictive assholes. One shitty apartment. And a vow to get under each other’s skin. Stuck in hate together twenty-four-seven, this can only end in a crime of passion.

Next Chapter    |    Fine Line Masterlist    |    Masterlist    |    AO3 

Chapter 1- Adore You (Verse 1)

[Cardan POV]

The minute I walk into the kitchen, I know I’m fucked.

She’s sitting there on one of my bar stools, at my island counter, eating my strawberries straight out of the plastic container. I say “my” because I’m still in denial that I have to share this shit-hole with anyone. Especially her.

When I put the ad up online, I was skint and desperate. I would’ve taken anyone short of a serial killer, really, but I was hoping for normal. Or at the very least, boring. It’s just my luck that the only person who responded to the ad was someone so insufferable.

We were civil with each other for all of a day. Three weeks had me almost driven to moving out. Me. Moving out of my own damn apartment because even that is easier than living with Jude Duarte. 

That’s when corona hit, so I guess I’m stuck.

It’s been a fortnight of isolation. Putting up with her unmitigated bullshit. Her ceaseless presence and mulish disposition. Our constant butting heads. 

On a good day, I give myself over to the ashen taste of resignation. On the bad ones, I want to throw myself down the stairs just so I can spend the night in hospital. 

Anyways, I’m fucked because my wretched flatmate is sitting there in her baggy black sweatpants and oversized hoodie. Her knees are tucked up to her chest, giving me a plain view of those stupid rainbow socks she’s always wearing. Her hair is a mess on top of her head. Everything about her sets off a tick in my jaw.

Except the way she eats strawberries.

Her full pink lips wrap around one now and—fucking hell. I swear my cock twitches. When she sinks her teeth in, those lips come away red-stained and glistening. A line of juice dribbles down her chin as she chews. Then, she pops the stem into her mouth and eats that, too.

I find myself imagining her on her knees, strawberry lips wrapped around something else of mine. The way the back of her throat would feel as I ram into her mouth—

I blink. My lip curls. I need coffee, and maybe a cold shower.

The former is closest, so I stop standing in the doorway like the twat that I am, and walk into the kitchen. Thankfully, she’s got earphones in and is so immersed in whatever the fuck she does on her laptop all day that she hasn’t noticed my blatant ogling.

If she notices me at all, she doesn’t acknowledge it.

Good. It’s better this way. The less we talk the less we end up screaming at each other. It’s only happened twice. The neighbors came round both times.

I pull a mug and the instant coffee down from a shelf.

It irks me. Just last night, I was standing in this very spot, doing everything in my power not to lose my shit after finding a pile of her dirty dishes in the sink. For the third time this week. She always says “they’re soaking”, and I always end up doing them later anyway, because I can’t stand the mess.

She does things like that a lot. Dishes and crumbs and wrappers. Stealing my food. A week ago I found a pizza crust jammed in between the cushions of the sofa. She denies all accountability, of course.

Not to mention, she sets her alarms for the ass crack of dawn. She’s such a heavy sleeper that I’m invariably wide awake well before she is, listening to the incessant shrill of her phone through the walls as she hits snooze, over and over.

I’m certainly not without my faults, of course. I know she hates me just as much as I hate her. She’s told me as much. Which is why I’m miffed that suddenly, without any warning, I want to fuck her into the kitchen counter.

There’s a spoon in the drying rack and I use it to stir my coffee. 

Nicasia hated me, I think to myself. She loved me once, but she hated me for a while before she did anything about it. Then, I stop. Because I don’t want to uncork that bottle today. Point is, maybe it’s not completely out of left field. To want someone right when they’re giving you the very least of their attention.

I tap the spoon against the lip of my mug. Usually, I’d retreat back to my bedroom at this point. Instead, I throw the spoon in the sink and turn around to lean against the counter.

She’s still sitting at the island, honed in on her computer. I can hear the thin, metallic wail of a guitar coming from her earphones. She bobs her head slightly to the beat.

It’s not as if she isn’t attractive. In her own, unique way.

She’s strong. If I didn’t hear her pummeling that blasted punching bag she’s got hanging in her room every night, I’d have known she boxed just by the way she looks. She’s got a fighter’s build about her. It lives in her shoulders, in the barrel of her chest. As if every line of her was made bold and unyielding. With intention. 

Again, I have to stop my own wandering thoughts. I’m starting to wonder if maybe my dead end job that has me editing bad romance novels for a living is starting to go to my head. 

It pays the bills until it doesn’t. And then it rots my brain. Maybe I should quit.

Still, I tell myself it’s the quarantine talking. That if I wasn’t trapped in here with her, I wouldn’t find anything about her attractive. That I’d probably be willing to whore myself out for one cigarette right about now. And I don’t even smoke.

But then she looks up at me, mid-bite. Those honey-brown eyes are wild. They threaten to cut straight through me. She squints, accusatory. Chews her bite, slow. Swallows.

My mouth goes dry as the fucking Sahara.

“What are you staring at?” she demands, glare blazing.

Apparently, I’m in the mood to walk that fire, because I take a sip of my coffee and say, smug as I can, “You.”

Sometimes, it’s better to be completely honest with Jude. The truth always seems to appall her far more than any lie ever could. As if she expects everyone to be deceiving. Or maybe it’s just that my truths are so outrageous to her that she doesn’t believe them.

I wouldn’t blame her there. I can hardly admit to this truth, myself. Whether she believes me or not, though, it gets under her skin.

“Right,” she scoffs. “Is it because I’m pretty? Is it because you like me so much?” She bats her lashes at me, mocking. I am stunned by the fact that, for a moment, I wish it was real. That I’d gladly lose myself in that look if it came from her eyes in earnest.

Then I shake my head. I sound like the biggest shit-for-brains. It’ll take more than a few eyelash flutters to make me surrender.

“Oh, no,” I say, trying to match her taunting tone, “I don’t like you. I adore you.”

That makes Jude roll her eyes. “Please,” she says. “You’re probably plotting ways to stick me in my sleep or something. Fucking psychopath.”

It’s that last part that makes me take a step toward the island, lean forward to rest my elbows on the counter so I’m nearly in her space. She doesn’t draw back. Just gives me a scathing look from over the top of her screen.

“If I’m ever depraved enough to stick you,” I tell her, smirking, “I guarantee you won’t be sleeping, love.” Which may come off as anything from perverted to downright murderous, but I don’t care. The face she makes is worth it.

It’s all jaw dropped, vicious gaze, blush creeping into her cheeks like red smoke. I’ve never challenged her before. It makes her look at me like she despises me. Like the only thing she’ll ever do is despise me. I don’t know why that eggs me on, but it does.

“Would you look at that,” I hum, “You’ve got the face about right, too.”

Her nostrils flare. Jaw sets. There’s a lovely shade of puce coming up on her already heated cheeks. She’s absolutely livid, and I can taste it in the air between us. It’s like static on my tongue.

That’s when something cold and slimy hits me dead between the eyes. Jude’s half-eaten strawberry plops to the counter. I’m so surprised I almost laugh.

“You’re disgusting,” she says with as much derision as I feel coursing through me.

Part of me wants to give into that anger. Sling a string of curses at her. Throw the strawberry right back in her face. Those things won’t annoy her half as much as what I actually do.

Keeping an unbothered expression, I pluck the strawberry off the countertop and pop it right into my mouth. Stem and all. I lick my fingers for good measure. All while keeping direct eye contact with the little menace sitting across from me. Her gaze flits to my lips. So I swipe my tongue over them. She blinks.

“Delicious,” I say.

She looks just the right amount of scandalised for me to straighten, take my coffee back up in one hand, and saunter out of the kitchen. I don’t say anything about the strawberries. Or how stealing isn’t a very good exercise in courtesy.

We’ve never been courteous with one another, anyway.

When I’m back in my room I lean against the closed door and scrub a hand over my face. My heartbeat is raging since I did not.

Sometimes, I think the irritating things she does are all on purpose. Just to get under my skin. I rarely give her the satisfaction of knowing it works, but I don’t like letting her trample all over me, either. It gives me an oily feeling. Like I’m back to being under someone else’s thumb, and I hate it.

But that—whatever that was—felt more like fighting back than I ever thought I’d have the balls to do. I feel more alive now than I’ve felt in months.

Maybe that makes me a bastard. C’est la fucking vie.

I start shucking off my clothes, throwing them into the hamper in the corner, one by one. My bedroom is mercifully en suite. If I wanted to, I could live in here for days at a time without leaving.

I don’t know why I ever bother.

I go into the bathroom and turn on the shower. As I stand there under the cold stream, I think about how dangerous it is, this game I’ve entered. Flirting with Jude to get a rise out of her is one thing. That’s clear cut. A direct retaliation.

It’s another thing entirely if part of why I’m doing it is to take the edge off of my own perversions. I mean, what kind of sick fuck has sex fantasies about someone they hate? Someone they’re stuck in isolation with, twenty-four-seven, for the foreseeable future? Someone who hates their guts, too, and could probably easily take them out if it came to physical blows?

I guess that sick fuck would be me.

It’s a fine line to walk but there’s no turning back. I’ve already begun.

☽☽☽☽☽

AN: So I guess I’m hopping on the quarantine fic bandwagon 😅 this is definitely not what I expected to come out of this song crossover prompt, but I kind of like it? It’s (very loosely) based off of Adore You by Harry Styles- the threads are there if you look for them 😉

I’m planning on making this a 12 part series (one chapter for each song on Fine Line) so if you’d like to be added to the tag list for this, or to my Jurdan Forever tag list, let me know in the comments/my messages/inbox and I’d be happy to add you! 

-Em 🖤💫

Title Inspo: Fine Line (album) by Harry Styles, Adore You (song) by Harry Styles

Tag List: @velarhysismine​ @knifewifejude​ @the-mithridatism-of-jude-duarte​ @clockworkgraystairs​ @thesirenwashere�� @judexcardanxgreenbriar​ @nite0wl29​ @aelin-queen-of-terrasen​ @whocares-idont​ @babycardan @mysweetvilllain​ @aesthetics-11​ @storiesandschemes​ @jurdanhell​ @poeticbrownmermaid @thechainofiron​ @random-llama-socks​ @villanellevi​ @lady-thea-of-narnia​ @b00kworm​ @flowersinvegas​ @vanessa172003​ @cardanstrickytail​ @queen-of-glass​ @doingmyrainbow​

Next Chapter

Fine Line Masterlist

Masterlist

[miekasa]

mie….could we please get college au eren headcanons👉🏽👈🏽

Of course. I’m always thinking about his big head anyway <33 might as well put it good use.

One thing he learned in college is how to make his hyperfocus/fixation episodes work for him; that’s why he schedules all his classes as close together as possible. He’d rather have class back to back for 5 hours, than have it spread out with hours in between lectures, because that increases his changes of cutting.

You can always tell when he’s in class and/or what class he’s in by how much he responds to your messages. If he doesn’t text back at all, he’s in a class that hard or one he enjoys, or both. But if he’s sending you iMessage games, then you know he’s in his elective that he couldn’t care else about (and is probably cheating in someway somehow lmfao). 

He usually puts his phone on dnd when he’s in a class that’s important, but you’re in his favorite contacts, so your messages always ring through. What if it’s an emergency and you need him for something? Advanced Roots of Human Biology can wait. 

Some days there are one or two our breaks between his lectures, that’s just how the scheduling works out. When that happens, he usually sneaks into one of your lectures, or goes to your place to take a nap. Your roommates have become accustomed to him, honestly they’ve been considering giving him a key. 

Once, he didn’t realize that your lecture was basically a seminar, with you, the prof and maybe six other students. He still stayed lmao, and the prof was so amazed by his dedication, that she didn’t even mind. Occasionally, you’ll catch the two of them talking after lecture. It’s pretty cute the way she’s adopted him into the class even tho he’s not on the roster. 

You... have to show him where the library is lmfao. He genuinely has not stepped foot in one until you bring him to one. He likes it tho lmao once he gets used to it. 

Speaking of which, do not give him standard directions to find your classes on campus because all you’ll get is, “Babe, I’m gonna keep it real with you, I’ve never heard of the ‘West Quad’ a day in my life. What building are you near.”

He usually comes to see you in the library after all his lectures are done for the day. Sometimes he does homework, sometimes he’s just fucking around on his computer, sometimes he’s just bothering you. When you have to leave to go to class, he stays behind to watch your stuff so you don’t have to pack everything up and come back. 

Very protective when it comes to keeping your seat for you. No, you cannot take that chair to your table you good for nothing freshman; it’s reserved for you. 

He’ll drag you out of the library if you’ve been cooped up all day, tho. Eren will use his height and his strength against you to get you up. Placates you with kisses when he sees your angry expression, and promises to buy you food.

He takes your backpack for you when you’re walking together,m. His backpack is frustratingly light all the time, even during midterms. You swear all he’s got in there is a pencil and some flashcards. 

If you have night classes, he sticks around to walk you home after, especially in the winter when it gets dark faster. If he’s not already on campus, he’ll walk/drive back to meet you; he just doesn’t like you going home alone. Even if your friend/roommate is in the class with you, Eren will walk or drive the both of you home for his own sanity. 

He plays sports, so he usually has practice most evenings, but he’ll find a way to make time. If practice was particularly brutal, he’ll probably crash at your place.

He loves it when you come to meet him after practice. His whole face lights up and he waves obnoxiously, before he gathers up his stuff and all but sprints towards you. You get a cold water bottle to the face, or a bit of water splashed on you usually, which he takes immense amusement in. 

He knows it’s not possible for you to make it to all of his games, and usually it doesn’t bother him much; you’ve got your own life, and work to worry about. All he asks is that you wear his jersey, or any item of his sports apparel/merch on game day (he’s partial to hoodies).

By the time junior year rolls around, he’s not all that interested in attending parties that aren’t hosted by your friends; so, unless it’s at Connie, Jean, or Reiner and Bertholdt’s place, Eren will usually decline. Even team parties, he’s not crazy about unless it’s to celebrate a championship or something. He’d much rather celebrate with you. 

He does get excited about hosting parties though, and he and Jean become pretty damn good co-hosts. They don’t throw ragers, and that’s probably why Eren likes it so much. It’s usually your friend group and a couple plus ones, some good music, games, weed, and take-out. 

He’ll buy you coffee whenever you ask for it. The first time, he just orders something plain, not really knowing the difference between anything; but give it two or three tries, and he’ll get it perfect. He becomes so good that he can order you something new/different and you’ll love it. 

That’s kind of the start of his own coffee addiction, and more often than not, when he buys you a cup, he’s on his second or third of the day himself. The flavor has really grown on him, okay. 

He much prefers your apartment, but on occasion, he’ll ask you to come to his. You’ve been studying for so long, a change of environment should do you good, he claims. He’s a fucking liar tho because that’s all Eren Talk for “I do genuinely want you to come over, but my plans are to coerce you out of doing your assignments and doing me instead.”

Lmfao he adds you on Apple Watch Rings just so you can see him close his rings every day and laugh at you. Even if yours get closed by virtue of walking around campus or working out or whatever, his numbers are stupidly high because he fucking has practice at least 4 days of the week. 

Of course when you’re running on a soccer field for 2 hours every day, you close your Move Ring five times, Eren. Leave the rest of us alone. 

He buys you guys matching accessories for your keychains. It’s something pretty cute, and slightly random, but it reminded him of you. It also serves as a reminder to himself to take his fucking keys with him when he leaves his house. 

He sleeps like a fucking rock, so do not let him fall asleep in the library. Waking him up is a mission, and he’s never happy to be woken up. He looks kinda cute tho. 

He schedules dates for you and his friends. Usually by accident, but hear me out. Sometimes he’ll make plans with Armin, then forget that he has class or a test or something; so his solution is to text you, “hey, i forgot min and i were supposed to go some aquarium tomorrow but i have a midterm so here’s the pdf of my ticket, go with him for me, thanks babe love u” then, boop, you and Armin have an aquarium date Friday evening. 

The same thing happens with Mikasa, though, she usually catches the scheduling conflict before Eren does, and invites you out herself. You and Mikasa hang out quite a bit anyway, so it comes to the point where she tells you when she’s gonna hang out with Eren, so you can make yourself free for when he inevitably remember he has a game that day. 

Mikasa is most amazed that you’ve put up with Eren this long lmao. You’ve certainly lessened her Eren & Armin babysitting hours, and for that she’s eternally grateful. Also, she’s just happy to have another close friend. She loves Eren and Armin, but they’re not the most social beings, and she was literally their only friend besides the other for all their childhood PLEASE she’s so happy you’re around. 

It’s Mikasa, however, who babysits you and Eren whenever you both get too drunk. Says you guys are two peas in a pod (affectionate<2)

If you tell Eren something important that happened, like an internship you got, or a good grade in a class, or something, he usually relays that information to his mom pls. He texts her every day, and if she doesn’t ask for an update on you first, he gives her one.

Carla calls you sometimes, too. At least once every few weeks, just to check on you herself. She really likes you for Eren, and is grateful someone is willing to put up with her hotheaded son. 

Eren’s always using your fucking chapstick. Always. You know he has his own, so why he needs to use yours is beyond you. Finds time to make some dumbass comment about how it’s an “indirect kiss” every time he uses it too. Like bro, we’re dating, and have had many direct kisses why are you like this.

He posts on Instagram every few weeks or so, but you’re on his story every few days. Usually, it’s just a video of you minding your business and doing your work while Eren slowly zooms in before making some loud noise to surprise you, all so he can get your reaction on video and laugh at it. He’s annoying. 

He’s a bit of a copycat when it comes to the products you use. He’ll buy the same brand of pens as you (for that matter, all of his school supplies mirror yours because what does he know about the difference between A4 and A5 notebooks?), put a little hand sanitizer on his backpack like yours (and a lotion, too, for good measure), he even copies your Starbucks order until he finds one he likes for himself. It’s one of his love languages <3

If you’re wondering where your eyelash curler went, Eren stole it to try it on himself, hurt himself, vowed to never use it again, went back because he wanted to “do it right and not give up,” liked the results when he didn’t pinch his eyelid, and now it’s his. 

That being said, stop trying to put your Fenty lipgloss on him, it’s never going to happen. Eye makeup, maybe, only if you sit in his lap and he can have his hands on your ass while you do it. 

What he does love is letting you do his skincare. He will set aside dedicated skincare nights, he adores it. Easily one of his favorite things ever. 

You have his wallet. Not because he’s your sugar daddy or anything (although, if you want something, he’d definitely let you use his card to get it; and even if you bought something without asking, he wouldn’t think twice about it), but because he put it in your bag once and never took it out. 

When you tried to give it back, he just shook his head and told you to keep it, “I have my ID in my phone case anyway, and you’re less likely to lose it. Plus I put all my cards on Apple Pay, so I’m good.”

When you do make it to a game of his, he’s all over you when it’s over. Not in a cocky athlete boyfriend kind of way; in a very sleepy boyfriend kind of way. He’s usually got ice on at least one part of his body, and he’s got half his body weight on you as you walk to the car. 

By the time you guys get back to your place, he’s practically sleep walking. The only thing on his mind is taking a hot shower to soothe his muscles, and heading to bed. The aftermath of game days aren’t all that bad though, because even if you didn’t show, you’re always there to kiss him when he’s home and massage his shoulders, and cuddle him to sleep; and that’s his favorite part. 

[seijorhi]

Inescapable

Part 2 of Always - another soulmate au with extra angst!

Oikawa Tooru x female reader, Miya Atsumu x female reader

TW toxic relationships, implied abuse, blind reader

“Stay here,” he murmurs, soft lips brushing briefly against your cheek before you feel his warmth retreat.

It’s an effort to quell the fleeting panic that rises in his absence. Japan is your home – was your home – but Tokyo… You’re not supposed to be in the village. Only the athletes, trainers and the support crew for the national team were supposed to stay there. It kept out distractions, made it easier for security, gave the athletes the space to focus on what they’re there for; to compete. To win. 

You don’t know how he did it, what strings he had to pull, but somehow he’d managed.

A room for the two of you. Just the two of you.

“You’re staying with me,” he’d told you when you’d brought up the possibility of going home to Miyagi to visit your family, or even spend a few days with Makki and Mattsun. “I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

The words had been whispered, a soft, teasing purr as lips curled into a smirk at your neck, but you know what he’s like when he’s competing. The focus and obsession he’ll throw himself into. 

Especially when you both know who he’ll be competing against. 

Nevertheless, you’re here. Alone now, standing in a sea of strangers talking too loud in a cacophony of foreign tongues while Tooru left to go find his team–

Strong, familiar arms encircle your waist, a kiss pressed to the top of your head. 

– but only for a moment.

“C’mon, cutie. Let’s get going – Coach gave us twenty before he wants us at the gym.”

—

You know one or two of the players on the national team from San Juan. They’re friendly enough, and they’ll stop and chat with you on the odd nights you venture out into the cafeterias dotted around the village for dinner. But for the most part they’re focused on other things and Tooru–

Tooru’s possessive enough of your attention at the best of times. 

Which means that you’re either with him, tucked carefully under his arm as he guides you around the village, or you’re stuck in the room, bored out of your mind waiting for him to come home to you. And for lack of anything better to do, you have the games playing on the TV.

Just for the sound of your mother tongue filling the room around you. Just so you won’t be alone with your thoughts for too long.

It’s different, back home in San Juan. But you understand it – why he brought you. 

“Where I go, you go, always.”

“Always.”

And the loneliness is worth it, you think, when he sinks down into the mattress beside you after a long day’s training and pulls you close, nuzzling into your side. This is better than being left behind. You’re here to support the man you love. Your soulmate, the name on your arm be damned. 

His good luck charm, he hums, kissing you in the early hours of the morning before slipping away. 

But even you can’t just sit around the apartment all day long. It’s good to stretch your legs, even when you’re in strange, unfamiliar territory. You tell yourself that what Tooru doesn’t know won’t hurt him, forgetting just for one blissful moment that your soulmate and his team are not the only ones who might catch you wandering. 

Of course, that realisation doesn’t sink in until broad shoulders suddenly barrel past you, knocking you off your feet. And you would have fallen, awkwardly probably, had a pair of strong, lean arms not caught at your waist, steadying you.

“Jeeze, Bokkun! Watch where yer goin’, wouldja!”

The first voice, the thick, drawling Kansai dialect isn’t familiar, but the voice that follows is impossible to misplace.

“Thought I told you two–”

It cuts off abruptly, and in some distant part of your brain you register that the stranger’s still holding you, the warmth of his hand still braced on your hip, but all you can really focus on is the owner of that second voice.

“Iwa?”

Tooru had told you he’d be here, Hinata too and Kageyama. And of course Ushijima, but you’d assumed that – at least up until they played against one another or team Japan got knocked out of the running – they’d be busy and you wouldn’t cross paths.

There’s a surprised intake of air from your left – ‘Bokkun’, you imagine – and he asks, “Wait, you know her, dude?”

And still, the warm body holding you doesn’t move an inch. Not until a familiar, irritated huff sounds, “Get your hands off her, dumbass.”

The body behind you tenses for a split second before obeying, hands ripping themselves away from you as if he’d been scalded. “Shit, sorry!”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s fine,” you murmur with what you hope is a polite smile, only half paying attention because you can hear Iwa striding towards you. In one breath, he’s knocking back your saviour and pulling you into a one armed hug.

“Shittykawa said he’d be bringing you,” he says quietly as you squeeze him back. It’s been such a long time since you’ve been face to face with him. Tooru calls him to catch up most weeks, more often than putting him on speaker so that you can say hi, but it’s not the same. “Didn’t think he meant to the actual village, though.”

You’ve missed him, you realise. Him and Makki and Mattsun, and suddenly there’s a lump in your throat, emotions welling that you can’t name. There’s so much you want to say to him, things he knows but should be said anyway, but–

“Aren’t you gonna introduce us to your pretty friend, Iwa?”

Your cheeks heat as the two of you part, yet it’s Iwa who answers for the both of you.

“No. You two need to get your asses moving,” he says. “Back to the gym, now. Unless you wanna stay back after everyone else finishes up to run extra drills?”

It’s a clear dismissal, and the two only pause for a heartbeat before grumbling their assent – and one sheepish apology – and heading off to continue their run.

“Let me walk you back.”

Some things never change, you suppose. “Iwa, you have an Olympic team to train,” you tell him with a wry grin. ”I’m not going to risk being accused of sabotaging the Japanese national volleyball team just because you feel the need to be gentlemanly.”

It’s clearly meant as a tease, but instead of the good-natured huff you’re expecting, he sighs. “C’mon. You almost got knocked on your ass, let me walk you back.”

It’s not a suggestion, and as he takes you by the hand and starts leading you back the way you came you’re reminded of high school - he used to do exactly same thing any timeTooru wasn’t around. There’s a slight flicker of irritation at your first breath of fresh air without Oikawa’s overprotective hovering being snatched away, but you know he means well.

He always does.

So you shove those feelings down and offer him a smile. “You know I’m stupidly proud of you, right?” you tell him. “Both of you.”

And something in Iwa relaxes and he laughs, “Yeah well I’m just glad you’re gonna be here to witness me wipe the floor with Shittykawa’s ass.”

—

It’s late, and Tooru isn’t back yet. 

And it wouldn’t bother you except that lunch had been hours ago, and your stomach is starting to growl, hunger settling in. 

Tooru works hard, he pushes himself and stays late when he should be home resting, you know that, but even if you did want to go and find him, pull him back so that he won’t push past his limits days out from competing, you wouldn’t have a clue where to find him – not in this sprawling maze of a complex.

What else can you do but wait, as fifteen minutes turns into half an hour, then an hour, and suddenly it’s almost nine. 

He won’t be happy that you’ve left without him, but either he’ll meet you at the cafeteria, or you’ll get home before he’s back and you’ll have dinner waiting for him. At this time of the night it’s likely to be empty anyway, it’s not like you’re running off in the middle of the dinner rush.

Most of the athletes’ll be back in their rooms, you’re not gonna get knocked around in the mad scramble for food, nobody’s going to pay you any mind.

But once again, you’re proven wrong. 

It’s not quite the roaring din that you’ve come to associate with the dining hall, but you can hear a few quiet conversations scattered throughout the room. At least none of them pay you any heed as you slowly wander the buffet, shyly asking one of the servers to help you pick out something for you and Tooru both.

It’s not until you move to take a seat, hoping that Tooru will get there before you have to try and cart his dinner back to the room that you hear the unmistakable scraping of a chair being dragged back beside you.

“Ya know, Iwaizumi never did end up telling us yer name,” a familiar voice states, settling down into the seat. “He did end up making me ‘n Bokuto run extra laps as punishment for knockin’ into ya, though.”

Out of habit, your fingers fiddle with the sleeve of your jacket – Tooru’s actually – warmth flooding your cheeks. He doesn’t sound pissed off by the fact, and you suppose he probably wouldn’t have sat down beside you if all he wanted was to pick a fight. 

“Oh, I’m… sorry?” It comes out sounding more like a question than anything else. 

He laughs at that, the sound surprisingly warm and pleasant. “Nah, not your fault. Iwa’s a hardass at the best of times.”

“Sounds like he hasn’t changed much since high school,” you muse.

Oikawa might’ve been Captain back then, but that never stopped Iwa from slapping him upside of the head whenever he did something particularly stupid. He was a hard ass, but he was also incredible at keeping the rest of the team in line and motivated, and he kept Tooru grounded. He kept you grounded. Aggressive, tough love was simply a part of that. 

You wonder distantly if his new team realizes just how lucky they are to have somebody like him in their corner.

“High school? Ya knew him back then?” he prods.

He’s a stranger. Not just a competitor, but ‘The Enemy’ just like Kageyama and Ushiwaka. Out of all the teams that Tooru might go up against during the games, you know that they’re the ones he’s most determined to defeat. And you don’t necessarily buy into the whole ‘destined rivals’ thing – Kageyama was never anything but polite to you, but you know you’re supposed to back your soulmate up on this. You know he’d be pissed to find you casually chatting away with any one of them, except maybe Hinata. 

Maybe.

But it’s nice just to indulge in a conversation – even meaningless small talk – with somebody who doesn’t know you as Tooru’s. You can’t help but relax a little, the tension easing from your shoulders, a small smile creeping across your face. 

“I’ve known Iwa since I was six years old. He’s one of my best friends.”

The man hums a little, his chair creaking as he leans back, “Really? He’s never mentioned ya.”

And it’s clear from the sharp intake of his breath that he regrets the words the moment they’re said, but instead of feeling offended, you simply laugh, the sound bubbling up before you can stop it. 

“It’s fine,” you say when he tries to backtrack. “Do you often have deep and meaningful’s with Iwa about his childhood friends?”

He snorts, “Yeah, point taken, I guess. So how come yer here then? Didn’t think they allowed cheerleaders in the village, even the cute ones.”

Something flutters in your stomach at his tone; it’s warm like honey, just a hint of teasing. He’s flirting, you realise, and in an instant you know you should shut it down. Harmless small talk is one thing, but you’re–

You have your soulmate. 

“What makes you think I’m not staff?” you ask instead.

“No uniform,” he counters, and you can’t argue with that. It’s not your fault that you can’t see what everybody’s wandering around wearing. “And you don’t really strike me as the ‘athlete’ type, no offense.”

You don’t really know how to respond to that, so you just shrug somewhat self consciously. He’s not wrong; you don’t really belong here, but you find yourself reluctant to tell him the truth.

The only reason you’re here is because Tooru cheated the system, because he couldn’t bear to be without you.

Or maybe because he knows how much of a mess you are without him. Blind and helpless without him to guide you, even here, back in the country you’d both left behind all those years ago.

“I’m here to support my soulmate,” you tell him instead, and it’s not entirely a lie. No matter what, you’ll always support Oikawa – here, back home, to whatever ends. That was the promise you’d made to each other long before you’d ever left Japan.

There’s a short pause, and you take the opportunity to turn back to the plate of food in front of you – you’d forgotten about it entirely. You half expect that he’ll take it as the perfect opportunity to politely bow out of the conversation. 

You might’ve been blind, but you’re not naive; you know exactly what athletes get up to after the sun goes down in the village. There’s a reason that your welcome packs were stuffed full of free condoms. 

And you’re not interested in that. You have Tooru and he has you. If that’s all that this guy is after; some quick, meaningless fuck, then–

“Volleyball?” he asks, and you almost roll your eyes.

He’s not wrong, of course he’s not, and you suppose considering your connection with Iwa it makes sense that he’d make that leap, but still. One track mind, all of them.

“If I tell you, you might not like me very much,” you say in lieu of an answer.

He leans closer, the chair creaking once more. “So I’m right.” He sounds so smug about it, you almost wanna tell him he’s wrong just to mess with him a little. “What position does he play?”

Not what team, what position. That, more than anything else, mattered to him – and again, you understood it. The pride players took in their position within the machine.

 “You first,” you shoot back instead, because you feel like you have a sneaking suspicion. 

And with a little huffing laugh, he confirms it, “Setter.”

Of course.

And the smile on your face tugs wider, a strange trill running through you, “Ah, and here I thought Kageyama,” you draw the name out, “was Japan’s starting setter.”

He scoffs, dragged in by your teasing jab, “Yer kiddin’, right? Tobio’s talented an’ all, but he ain’t half the setter I am.”

Cocky and smug. You wonder if he has the skills to back it up. Yet just as you open your mouth to pry further, you’re interrupted by a voice.

Several actually. 

“Talking shit again, Miya?”

“Who’s she?”

“Oh hey – Iwa’s friend!”

And your heart skips a beat, your body tensing as those voices close in, more chairs being pulled out, trays of food dumped on the table as his teammates settle down around you. It’s just a name, one name. It doesn’t mean anything, doesn’t–

“Atsumu, why don’t you shut– oh. Y/N, hey. Didn’t realise you'd be here. Isn’t the village restricted to athletes only?”

Kageyama’s blunt greeting isn’t intended to be antagonistic, but it washes over you regardless. You’re frozen, heart pounding, a sick, twisting feeling settling into your gut.

Atsumu, he’d said.

Miya Atsumu. 

Two words, and your world stops spinning. 

You’d promised him – Tooru – years ago that the name on your arm didn’t mean anything. It was all just a cruel cosmic mistake because from the moment you met him, you were his, and he was yours and nothing else mattered.

And you’d told yourself that, repeated it like a mantra until you started to believe it yourself. Because Tooru loved you, you were his soulmate and what kind of horrible fucking person would you be to take that gift, that bond and shove it back in his face.

Tooru isn’t perfect, and he’d freaked out and lied to you, but he’s your soulmate. 

The name on your arm didn’t matter, it didn’t matter that you didn’t know whose it was, because you had Tooru. It should have been his.

And you told yourself that for six months, until some blowout fight had Tooru storming out, you following in his footsteps. 

It was a stranger, some random passerby in the street. You can’t remember what prompted you to stop her and ask, why it suddenly mattered when Tooru had all but convinced you that it didn’t, but you had.

Miya Atsumu. The pronunciation had been unsure, her tongue clunky over the foreign syllables, but in that moment when you’d heard his name every lie you’d convinced yourself of had fallen apart.

It was like you’d been drowning without ever realising it, and the second you’d heard that name a hand was dragging you up to the surface and suddenly air was flooding your lungs.

Miya Atsumu.

There are voices surrounding you, somebody laughing uproariously, but it’s all just white noise. 

“Y/N,” a choked, hoarse whisper that shouldn’t have been heard, but it pierces you like a knife, cutting through everything else. It’s too much. 

On shaking legs you stand, knocking your chair back as you grab for your cane. 

The name hadn’t mattered, until you’d heard it. He hadn’t mattered, until he was standing right there in front of you.

“I– I have to go,” you mutter, not entirely sure if they heard you, or if they even cared. You leave your food untouched on the table, stumbling as you step back.

And again, you hear that whisper of your name. There’s a hand that reaches for you – his or somebody else’s you don’t know, you shrug it off regardless. “I have to go.”

Nobody stops you as you skitter back towards the entrance, but for once the cafeteria is silent. The moment you burst out through the double doors, the brisk, summer night air hits you like a slap, and you don't realise that your cheeks are wet with tears until the breeze cuts through, the damp skin prickling uncomfortably. 

And the sob that follows rips through your chest like a knife.

This isn’t what you wanted. 

If there’s a god out there, he must have a cruel sense of humour, because your name is being called again, and suddenly there’s a hand on your cheek brushing at your tears, an arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you close. “Cutie, what’s wrong?”

The scent of him, all citrus and summer, invades your nose as you clutch at him tighter. You can’t speak, can’t find the words to tell him, so you just squeeze your eyes shut and burrow into him. 

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he repeats, not asking this time. 

You take a deep, shuddering breath. “I want to go home,” you whisper, clutching at his jersey. “I wanna go home, Tooru.”

A kiss brushes against the crown of your head, and you almost miss the sound of footsteps pounding on the pavement behind you – at least until the interloper speaks.

“You–” Atsumu breaks off, his breath ragged and raw, and you don’t miss the way that Oikawa stiffens, his grip tightening, fingers digging in. “Yer my soulmate.”

Three simple words, and everything, everything just falls apart.

Tooru snarls, taking a step back and dragging you with him. “She’s not your anything, Miya. Fuck off.”

“You can’t leave me! You can’t - you’re mine!”

It hurts, the grip he has on you. He’s trembling, from rage or fear you honestly don’t know, but you can feel his heart pounding a vicious beat as his arms lock around you like a cage.

“Yeah, that’s why it’s my goddamn name on her arm. Let ‘er go, yer hurting her,” he snaps. 

“She’s my soulmate, so mind your own business and run off back home.”

You can’t breathe.

“Not when yer hurting her.”

It’s like the floor’s suddenly disappeared from beneath you, and you’re in free fall, hurtling back towards god knows what. Your head’s spinning, your legs feel like jelly, and if Tooru wasn’t holding you up against him, you’re not sure you’d still be standing. 

You can’t breathe. 

“Leave, right now,” he hisses. “She’s mine. She always has been, and always will be mine!”

You’d promised him that much, hadn’t you?

“Ya don’t scare me, and I don’t give a flying fuck if yer wearing her name on your arm. That’s my soulmate, and you’ll take yer fucking hands off ‘a her.”

You can’t breathe, not as the shouting gets louder and Tooru’s grip gets tighter. 

He takes another step back, pulling you with him, and another hiccuping sob catches in your throat. You try to speak, to stop this before it gets any worse, but the words won’t come–

“You’re hurting her!”

“I LOVE HER!” he screams. “I would never, ever hurt her!”

“T–Tooru, please…” you beg. It’s little more than a whisper, and neither one of them seems to hear it.

But somebody else does. 

“Hey, hey! What the fuck are you dumbasses doing?!” 

Iwa, always your second protector, your best and oldest friend, wastes no time in getting between the two of them, shoving Miya back.

“What is wrong with you both?!” he snaps, grabbing you by the wrist and ripping you from Oikawa. And you don’t fight it when he tugs you towards him, a protective arm wrapping around your waist. 

You cling to him, like a scared child with tears streaming down your face. 

“Iwa–”

“No, shut up. I don’t wanna hear a single word out of either one of you! Not a goddamn word!”

He doesn’t bother berating them in front of you, though you know that’ll come later. He doesn’t say anything to you either, but his hand doesn’t leave yours all the way back to his apartment. Not the one in the village, but the one just outside of the city.

“You knew, didn’t you?” you ask quietly when he drops his keys on the counter.

There’s a beat of silence, and he sighs. “Yeah, I knew.”

It’s hanging in the air between you, like a dark, stormy cloud about to unleash. “Iwa,” you whisper, your bottom lip trembling once more. “What the hell am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know,” he answers, as honestly as he can. “But you’re gonna stay here tonight, and tomorrow I’ll call Makki and Mattsun and they’ll come and take you back to Sendai for a little while if that’s what you want. You don’t have to see either one of those assholes, not until…” 

Not until you figure out how you’re supposed to make this impossible choice. 

He squeezes your shoulder as you sniffle. “It’s gonna be alright, whatever you decide to do.”

Neither one of you truly believes that, but what’s left to say?

He hugs you again before he leaves, makes you promise to call if you need him, but you both know you won’t.

Not tonight, not when he has other priorities. 

And then you’re alone, sitting on his couch surrounded by blankets with a mug of hot chocolate warming your hands. You know you should try to get some sleep, you’re exhausted, overwhelmed, but every time you close your eyes, you can’t stop thinking about it.

About the way Tooru’s voice had shook, how you’d smiled for Atsumu, that familiar warmth blooming in your chest when the two of you talked and you’d teased him.

And you remember how it was the day Tooru first told you that he loved you, the butterflies in your stomach the first time he’d kissed you, spinning you around and laughing as his lips met yours again and again and again. 

How he’d yelled and screamed and fallen apart in your arms that night, begging you not to leave him. 

You love him, for better or for worse, you love him. 

A loud knock echoes through the apartment, shaking you from your thoughts.

It’s almost 2am, and nobody but Iwa knows you’re here. Nobody should be knocking, and so you sit, frozen in the dark listening as your heart hammers uneasily.

One beat, then two, and then–

“I know you’re in there, just– just please. I need… I need–” he breaks off with a frustrated huff, and there’s a low thud, like his head’s fallen against the door. “Please,” he begs, quieter this time. 

There’s another thud.

“I need ya. Don’t lock me out, I’m beggin’.”

[caleiiiii]

mcyt subway au pt 2 because this now lives in my mind rent free

check out part one here !!

ALSO GO FOLLOW @wassupmygays SHES BEEN HELPING ME WRITE A TON OF THIS

poster problems

sometimes wilbur hangs up “no furries” posters in the back room and then watches the camera footage back to see fundy rage and destroy them every single time

fundy tries to complain to phil but since he keeps destroying all the evidence phil cant really do anything

technically he could check the camera footage but he just. decides not to

dream team name origin

the name originates from when dream, george, and sapnap started working at the store

on the first day the three are left alone in the store they have one of the biggest rushes ever

like just 3 hours of nonstop customers

they handle it suprisingly well and jokingly call themselves the “dream team”

eventually the name just stuck

pogway pt 2

about two weeks after the first apperance of the “pogway” stickers, customers start asking questions

tommy always grins and replies that “its part of a new marketing strategy”

everyone else just sighs and says not to mention it

phil finally manages to strike a deal with tommy and tubbo

(tubbo had been helping tommy hack and edit the camera footage)

tommy got a small section he could decorate with “pogway” stickers as long as they stopped messing with security footage

needless to say, the boys took the offer

sleepy bois sleepover

wilbur manages to convince technoblade to let him, tommy, and tubbo in after the store closes to spend the night in there

he argues that theyre “getting a head start for their shift”

techno agrees as long as hes there to supervise

they all bring blankets and pillows

(maybe wilbur tries to get them to do another seance or smth??)

phil gets there early in the morning to do inventory

finds the 4 boys curled up in a pile on the floor

instead of waking them up, he takes about 1727812772 blackmail photos and leaves

the photos end up plastered all over the back room

soda monstrosities

theres a running competition among the employees to see who can make the worst combination of sodas from the fountain soda machine

dream used to hold the title, but was overtaken by schlatt as soon as he started

nobody knows how schlatt manages to mix such horrible soda flavours

feel free to add ur own ideas/ headcanons to this au !!!

tag list :)

@i-am-a-wizard @eva-ticket @oakskull @thesmpisonfire @trademarked-but-not-really @orange-is-salty-tm @pixelatedrose @hollow-hypocrite @astrono @nootella23 @hot-dumbass @jen-dot-net

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

Soulmate AU part 2; Things drastically change for the better:

Arthur and Merlin’s relationship develops, Uther becomes increasingly annoyed at his failed attempts to control them, Leon continues to have heart palpitations over trying to protect them, and Morgana thinks the whole thing is hilarious.

Part 1   Part 3 Part 4

So that conversation... happens.

To say it was awkward would be a MASSIVE understatement.

Arthur and Morgana spend the whole time answering Uther’s questions, so much so that Merlin barely speaks (he wasn’t great at keeping secrets, so he wasn’t too mad at them for answering for him) and Uther spends the whole time trying and failing to assert his dominance over his two dumbass kids (but they aren’t having it).

Eventually Merlin did speak up, quietly saying:

“I, um... I’m really sorry to interrupt Sire, My Lord... uh... Your Majesty Sir-”

Morgana smirks slightly and covers her mouth with her hand, Arthur rolls his eyes and squeezes Merlin’s hand, and Uther looks upon the whole scene with barely concealed bewilderment:

“-uh... my mum is waiting for me, and I’m usually not gone for this long so... could I... I mean would you mind if I... went?”

Uther looked even more taken aback at that. As much as this whole conversation had been based on Merlin, he hadn’t actually processed the fact that he was a whole person who would have family and places to be and a life outside of being The Prince’s soulmate.

He nods his head slightly and purses his lips:

“Right. Of course. Arthur said that you lived outside of Camelot?-”

He doesn’t wait for an answer before continuing:

“-Well I’m afraid that that is unacceptable. You are the soulmate of the Prince of this kingdom, inform your family that you are to move here as soon as possible, preferably before the month is out.-”

At Merlin’s wide eyes and Arthur and Morgana’s scornful faces, he waved his hand:

“-Don’t worry, housing and anything else that you will require will be provided by the Crown.”

Merlin still looks a bit dazed and surprised at his demand, so Arthur replies instead:

“Father, Merlin and his mother have a life in their village, you can not just demand that they pack up and leave everything behind to live here.”

Uther looks annoyed at this, but patiently (or as patiently as Uther is able) retorts with:

“Well he was going have to move eventually. The two of you are only a few years from being of age, and you can not possibly live in separate kingdoms when that happens, especially as you are Crown Prince. I’m allowing this... bond... to continue, but we are still royalty, and rules must be followed.”

Morgana goes to argue this time, but Merlin tugs her sleeve slightly and says quietly:

“It’s alright ‘Gana, he is right, I was going to have to move here eventually anyway. This way you finally get to meet my mum, and we’ll get to see each other more often. Mum won’t like it, but I know she’s missed Gaius, so it won’t be too bad, and I’ve always sort of wanted to explore the city.”

Morgana and Arthur stare at him for a few moments whilst he looks between them. Arthur sighs before replying:

“Fine, but only if you’re sure. And take your time, don’t pressure your mum into leaving right away, OK?”

Merlin nods, and everyone at the table stands, stepping back.

Uther mutters that they are dismissed, but watches as they say goodbye to each other. He furrows his eyebrows in interest as Morgana hugs Merlin, mentally noting that he doesn’t think he’s ever seen her smile that widely before.

When Arthur embraces Merlin, much tighter, and for much longer, a hand cradling the back of the peasant’s-... of Merlin’s head, and a soft, but powerful smile on his face, Uther forgets for a moment the distastefulness of the situation, and revels in the feeling of pride and happiness; his son had found his life partner. 

The King sweeps any thoughts of his late-wife from his mind, and drops the small smile gracing his face, but not before Morgana spies it and tilts her head at him, giving him a teasing smirk.

The boys whisper something that Uther can’t hear, and Merlin steps back, giving him a quick bow and an awkward wave, before disappearing into thin air. A familiar pop echoes around the hall, and a few gold sparks fall silently to the floor.

Arthur and Morgana bow to him very briefly, before turning and leaving the room without another word, arm in arm.

Uther stands alone in the room for a moment, sighing before muttering to himself:

“This is going to be a bloody nightmare. Public announcement. Before that I have to tell the council. And I have to figure out how I can legally make these people nobles, to justify everything-”

He looks to the ceiling, sighing once again as he says:

“-Gods give me strength.” Before turning and sweeping out the room.

~

The moment Arthur and Morgana leave the room, they turn to each other and burst into slightly hysterical laughter, sputtering about “the look on his face” and “oh my gods, *sire my lord your majesty sir* ” between breaths. 

The whole situation was unexpected, but to be perfectly honest, they didn’t regret it; they knew that the longer they waited before telling Uther, the bigger the problem would be.

Morgana straightens up after a moment, wiping tears from her eyes, before whipping her head around to Arthur in sudden panic:

“Oh my Gods, Arthur. Leon.”

Arthur’s eyes widen, and he curses suddenly before taking Morgana’s hand and running towards his chambers. They almost ran into multiple people, Nobles who tutted, and castle staff who jumped out of the way, not even having time to bow before the two teenagers were out of sight again.

They loudly burst into Arthur’s chambers, out of breath, to see Leon pacing a groove into the floor:

They stand with their hands on their knees, panting, but before they can say anything, Leon rushes to speak:

“Where on earth have you been?? A guard said you were in a meeting with the King all afternoon, what happened? Is Merlin ok?? They wouldn’t let me in, so I came back here to wait but-”

Arthur held up a hand to stop him rambling, and gave him a comforting smile. The Prince straightened up, and took one last deep breath before saying:

“Sorry, for worrying you Leon. But you are not going to believe what just happened...”

Morgana starts laughing again, and with that, the two of them shut the door behind them and explain in great detail what had happened, how Merlin had just appeared and Uther had freaked, and Gaius and Geoffrey had to be called, and how funny the look on his face was when they’d explained. 

Arthur had wanted to skip it out, but Morgana gleefully insisted on recounting just how much she and Arthur had ordered Uther around, and how he’d just taken it.

By the end of their explanation, Leon had collapsed in a chair, looking very pale, and a lot like he’d aged twenty years.

He holds his head in his hands, fingers messing up his curls, and stares at the floor as Arthur and Morgana glance to each other, trying not to laugh at the poor man.

After what seems to be hours, Leon straightens up, and looks to the two of them with a stricken expression:

“I can’t believe that... well I suppose he had to find out eventually but... dear Lord I can’t decide if I’m grateful I wasn’t there or not... oh my Gods I’m going to be demoted, disowned, banished.”

Arthur laughs at that and Morgana rolls her eyes at the man’s panic:

“Nothing’s going to happen to you Sir Leon, don’t panic. We didn’t mention you, as far as my father is concerned, the only ones who knew were us.”

Leon finally smiles briefly at that, muttering a quiet thank you, before standing up suddenly, looking panicked once again:

“Wait... you said he’d be moving here?? What about his... gift?? He can’t live in Camelot it’s dangerous. You may have protected him from the King for now but... if he finds out nothing will stop him from... nothing will stop him.”

The two of them sighed at that. They had been mentally considering it, but they were just taking it one victory at a time. Arthur replied moments later:

“We’ll just have to be careful. He has to be careful in Ealdor anyway, he’s already a bastard, he had to hide magic from the other villagers because it probably would’ve been fatal for him to give them a second reason to hate him. We can set ground rules when he actually moves here and... we just have to be careful. It’ll be a new life for him and his mother, we can be careful.” 

He says the last bit with a decisive nod, and Morgana and Leon relax slightly. Arthur was right, they’d been fine so far, they could keep it up.

He would never say it out loud, but if his father found out... if he tried to hurt Merlin, Arthur knows without a doubt in his mind that he would give up his inheritance, take Merlin’s hand, and run. Without hesitation.

He would love nothing more than to turn his kingdom into a place where Merlin could be free and happy one day, but until then, he would do anything to keep him safe, even if it meant leaving everything behind.

~

The next few weeks rush by.

Uther had tried to limit the number of visits between Merlin and Arthur, but neither of them were having it, and if anything, they were seeing each other more with the upcoming move.

Hunith did in fact freak out at Uther’s demand of her and Merlin moving to Camelot. For several reasons.

First off, she had a life here. It was difficult, but simple, honest work. The winters were hard, but the summers made up for it. The villagers may have started of being a little cruel to her and Merlin, but they warmed to them when the dark haired boy was nothing but sweet and kind to everyone.

Second off, her son was magical. Both naturally and unnaturally magical. Essetir was dangerous, yes, but Camelot? Camelot was so much worse.

She supposes it had to happen eventually. She didn’t like to think of it often, didn’t want to tempt fate, but her son was the Crown Prince’s soulmate. That meant that one day... he would be married to the King. He couldn’t exactly do that whilst living in Essetir, least of all because the Essetir Crown would throw a world ending fit.

In the end, she agreed to the move rather quickly, at least she would be close to her brother, and she could finally meet Leon and Morgana.

As much as Merlin and Arthur urged her not to rush, she really had nothing to do but say goodbye before they made the journey to Camelot, and the three of them were leaving the village behind them within the month, just like Uther wanted.

Though he definitely hadn’t wanted Arthur to pop away one morning, a full travel pack and a sword on his person, intending to make the journey with them. But in the end, Arthur ended the argument by rolling his eyes (much to Morgana’s amusement) and disappearing before The King could get another word in.

No public announcements had been made (they decided to wait until Arthur came of age), but the council had been informed. They were NOT happy. 

Uther would never admit it, but he did feel a swell of pride when Arthur slammed his hand on the table, and firmly told them that this was happening whether they liked it or not, and if they dared complain instead of help, they would find themselves without a chair at the table, and severely lacking in titles and land.

Uther was relieved when he found out that Hunith was Gaius’ younger sister. Gaius wasn’t a noble, but he was a life-long, close friend of the King, and a trusted advisor. Hopefully that would make it easier. 

The Court Physician wasn’t a title that came with land, or nobility, BUT it was the most respected position in the royal household, below actual nobles.

If Gaius could take Merlin on as his apprentice... then he would be an almost fully trained physician by the time he came of age, and that would be respected. Then at least he would have a role outside of being the Prince’s Soulmate.

It was all coming together in Uther’s mind. Of course it wasn’t perfect. The absolute ideal outcome would’ve been if Arthur’s soulmate had been foreign royalty (if only anyone knew about Merlin’s father...), but he could make do with this. He would have to, if he didn’t want to lose his son and his ward.

~

The day of Hunith, Arthur, and Merlin’s arrival finally comes.

Uther didn’t greet them in the courtyard (it would be unsightly for a King to greet two commoners, even if The Prince was with them) but Gaius, Morgana, and Leon did.

Everyone breaks into wide smiles when the castle gates are opened, Arthur and Merlin rushing forward to meet Morgana and Leon in a big hug, and Hunith rushing forward to meet her brother, whom she hadn’t seen in several years.

There is laughter and hugs all around before Merlin finally steps back and takes his mother’s hand, realising he should probably give actual introductions:

“Mum, this is The Lady Morgana, ward of the King-”

Morgana gives Hunith a wide smile and curtsy, before stepping forward and giving her a brief hug. Morgana was very touch averse with everyone but Merlin, Arthur, and Leon, but in her books, any woman who raised Merlin into the young man he had become, was a woman who deserved her trust. And a hug:

“-and this is Sir Leon, Knight of the King.”

Leon took Hunith’s hand, placing a brief kiss on her knuckles before stepping back respectfully. Hunith quickly followed him, and to his great surprise, wrapped the taller man in a tight hug. He wraps his arms around her after a few moments in shock, when she whispers in his ear:

“Thank you for keeping my boys safe.”

He steps back, a wide smile on his face and his hands on her shoulders. He replies quietly so that only she would hear him:

“It has been my genuine pleasure, and I plan to continue to do so for the remainder of my service.”

Hunith gives him an even wider smile, and pats his hand, before the two of them step back. The others watch on in adoration, before Leon clears his throat and addresses the group:

“I have been instructed to show the two of you to your new residence, before you are to meet with the King.”

Arthur steps back before saying regretfully:

“Unfortunately, Gaius and I should go and meet with my father immediately. Leon, you lead the way, we shall remain with him until you return and we can get this over with.”

He says the last bit with a grimace, and Morgana gives him a sympathetic smile as Merlin squeezes his hand. 

The group separates, Arthur and Gaius heading up the castle steps, and Leon leading the rest of them back out the gates.

Hunith and Merlin had been gifted a small house in the upper city, close to the castle, but not within it’s walls. Arthur had argued endlessly against that, saying they deserved chambers inside the castle, but Hunith was the one who refused.

She wasn’t nobility, and she enjoyed her simple life. She had already given up her farming and livestock, she refused to be cooped up in a giant stone castle where she would have nothing to do, and didn’t understand how anything worked.

Arthur finally saw the sense in that, he can understand that it would be difficult for Merlin and Hunith to live in the castle. He hated to admit it, but they would certainly be looked down on, and Arthur was almost of age, he didn’t have the time to spend all day entertaining Merlin, even if he wanted nothing more than to spend all day every day with him.

The house was small, but still three times the size of their place back in Ealdor. They had separate bedrooms, a large kitchen/dining area, a small storage room, and an extra room for relaxing (”City folk call them living rooms apparently.”). There was a small, fenced off grass area out the front, which Hunith was particularly excited about; she wouldn’t have to give up growing things after all.

The home came fully furnished, and Hunith was speechless at the large, comfortable beds, the soft chairs, and the abundance of cooking equipment. The living room also had a large hearth, and two ceiling-high bookshelves, though they were empty.

Once Hunith had had a good look around (the others had already seen it, and Arthur had been checking with Merlin at every step to see if he approved), Morgana excitedly grabs her hand and drags her back to the slightly larger of the two bedrooms.

Merlin follows confusedly, but Leon follows with a small smile on his face, he had seen what Morgana was planning, despite her best attempts to keep it secret.

Morgana finally stands Hunith in front of the wardrobe and gestures for her to open it. The older woman opens the doors with a little hesitation, before stepping back and gasping, her hands over her mouth.

Morgana grins proudly before speaking to a speechless Hunith:

“My gift to you. I organised a few things for Merlin as well. Of course they’ll all have to be adjusted because I could only pass on to the tailor Arthur and Merlin’s descriptions of you. I thought that could be something nice you and me could do at some point in the next few days, after you’ve settled.”

Merlin steps around Leon to try and see what’s got everyone so wound up, and takes in a quiet gasp at what he sees. The wardrobe is filled with new, tailor made dresses, a few thick cloaks, and two pairs of good quality shoes. Two of the dresses were incredibly nice, royal-gala kind of nice, and the others were a mix of practical, casual, smart. 

He smiles widely, tears in his eyes at what Morgana had done for his mum. He’s always felt a little guilty at being the soulmate of royalty, but not being able to provide her with more than she had, but that changed, starting now.

Hunith finally rips her gaze from the new clothes, staring at Morgana:

“I can’t possibly...-”

Morgana’s tilted head and raised eyebrow forces Hunith to change tracks. The boys have told her how stubborn Morgana was, she has a feeling she wouldn’t be able to return the gifts:

“-I don’t know how to thank you, My Lady.”

Morgana rolls her eyes fondly, and brings her into a hug before stepping back:

“Oh none of that “My Lady” shit, and you don’t have to thank me, you and Merlin are part of the family now.”

Merlin gives her a grateful smile over his mum’s shoulder, which she returns, before Leon speaks up:

“I’m sure you can find time to get them all properly fitted in the coming days Morgana, for now we should get back up to the castle. I imagine The King and The Prince are waiting for us.”

Morgana nods, and Hunith subtly wipes her eyes, before allowing The King’s ward to intertwine their arms. Merlin smiles at the sight (he knew they would get along) before turning and following Leon out the house, and back up towards the castle.

Merlin was only a little nervous, he’d met the King multiple times now, and whilst the man was always painfully polite, it was clear that it was only because the whole situation bewildered him a little. But he’d never met his mother yet, and this next meeting would make the rest of his life go very smoothly, or very difficultly.

Leon pauses a moment outside the door to the throne room, glancing back at Merlin, who takes a deep breath before standing straight and nodding.

Leon smiles encouragingly at him, before pushing the doors open and walking into the room.

Arthur, Uther, and Gaius were stood in front of the thrones quietly discussing something, but look up when they hear the doors open.

Arthur smiles widely and walks forward, giving Merlin a brief hug (which Morgana lovingly rolls her eyes at, they’ve only been apart for half an hour) and Uther straightens his back, before walking forwards regally, a practiced blank look on his face. Gaius gives his sister a reassuring smile, but stays back.

Leon and Merlin bow (Leon deeply, before stepping aside, and Merlin briefly and shallowly) and Hunith curtsied as best she could with Morgana protectively gripping her arm.

Arthur and Merlin stand next to the girls, hand in hand (Uther’s mind bounces between wanting to smile fondly, and wanting to grimace at the PDA), and Uther stops just in front of Hunith:

“Welcome to Camelot, your swift arrival was pleasing.”

Hunith nods, a polite, but strained smile on her face:

“Thank you, My Lord. Anything to make the boys lives easier.”

Uther clenches his jaw, and Morgana has to hide a smirk at the implication that she’d only moved to help out the boys, and not because Uther had ordered it.

“Of course. I hope your new home was to your liking?”

Hunith nodding in reply, the smile on her face a little brighter this time:

“Yes, My Lord, it’s wonderful, I can not thank you enough for providing it. I look forward to exploring your city.”

Uther nods slightly before saying:

“Yes, yes, it’s rather lovely this time of year. The Crown will provide a small allowance for a time, until you can get yourself on your feet. I’ve already discussed it with Gaius, and arrangements have been made for Merlin to become the physician’s apprentice, at Gaius’ earliest convenience.”

“Thank you, I’m sure it won’t be long before I can find work, in such a bustling city.”

Uther nods tersely, before turning back towards Gaius. He waves his hand dismissively over his shoulder as he says:

“I have other matters to attend to for the rest of the afternoon. Sir Leon, Arthur and Morgana, you have the rest of the day off to show our new... residents, around. You’re all dismissed.-”

Leon is the only one who bothers bowing to Uther’s back, and Morgana raises an eyebrow at him, before rolling her eyes and turning to leave, dragging Hunith with her, closely followed by the boys.

Just before Leon can exit the room, Uther turns around hurriedly:

“-Before I forget, Sir Leon, I would like a word.”

Leon turns around after wiping the panic from his face. He shuts the door after the others, who look at him worriedly, before turning around to face The King:

“My Lord?”

Uther settles an assessing gaze on the knight, and Leon has to stop himself from gulping in response. Uther sighs, and speaks after a moment:

“After paying a little more attention to the relationships between yourself, the boys, and Morgana, I have realised something. You obviously knew of this... relationship, long before I did. Do no deny it.-”

Leon does gulp at that, but before he can defend himself, Uther asks:

“Can I trust that it would have been brought to my attention had anything problematic started?”

Leon widens his eyes in shock, before gathering his thoughts and replying, injecting as much confidence in his voice as possible:

“Of course, My Lord. I kept a close eye on them myself, and made sure that the Prince’s safety was my highest priority at all times. Had anything worrying happened, I would have come to you immediately. I am loyal to the throne, My Lord.”

(A big fat lie considering the whole “Merlin is a sorcerer” thing, but the King certainly doesn’t need to know that.)

Uther nods thoughtfully, before meeting Leon’s gaze again:

“Good. I am glad that Arthur has someone looking out for him. I trust you will continue this?”

Leon nods:

“Of course, My Lord.”

Uther nods once again:

“Excellent. Make sure none of... this, interferes with his studies. You are dismissed.”

Leon bows deeply, before leaving the room. He shuts the door behind him, leaning on it and taking a deep breath, before looking up to meet the worried gazes of the others, who had waited for him. He smiles shakily:

“Nothing bad, I’ll tell you later. Come on, let’s show these two around the upper-town.”

Arthur fixes him with a scrutinizing gaze, but Leon meets it (Arthur has yet to win a staring contest against Leon, in fact, Morgana was the only one who ever came close), and after a moment, Morgana shakes her head, and begins to walk down the corridor, the boys trailing after her and Hunith.

They spend the rest of the afternoon showing Merlin and Hunith around the upper-town. The tour leads them around the market, the town square (where the well is) and other important fixtures of the town, such as the tailor, blacksmith’s, and some of Morgana’s favourite shops (Uther hated it, but Morgana and Arthur regularly sneak out of the castle to spend time in the city).

By the time the sun sets, the group is relaxed and getting on well. Merlin knew Morgana and Leon would love his mum, but it was still nerve-wracking, and he was overjoyed by how well it was going.

The kitchen of Hunith and Merlin’s new home had yet to be stocked, so they stopped off at some street vendors before heading back to the house. Hunith tried to argue when Arthur insisted on paying, but she was shut down pretty quickly when Arthur reminded her that he was The Prince, he could more than afford it, and anyway, “I like contributing to the local businesses, I wouldn’t be a Prince if I didn’t have my people around me, I like to give back where I can.”

Leon and Morgana smiled proudly at that, but the smiles on Hunith and Merlin’s face were more fond. 

(Morgana quietly thinks about how differently he would’ve been without Merlin to ground him. With a father like Uther, Arthur easily could’ve turned into an absolute prat.)

They stay together long into the evening, talking and laughing, before Leon finally says it’s time to go. Morgana, Hunith, and Merlin may have tomorrow free, but Leon and Arthur had training early, followed by a day full of meetings.

Morgana smirked at Arthur’s grumbling, but dutifully stood up. The three of them give Hunith and Merlin tight hugs, before leaving them alone, heading back to the castle.

Hunith and Merlin sit in comfortable silence, wide smiles on their faces, before Merlin breaks the silence:

“So what do you think? I know Uther is a bit of a prat, but he’ll want to see as little of us as possible, so it shouldn’t be too much of a problem. Do you... like it here?”

Hunith smiles at him fondly, and runs her hands through his hair when he rests his head on her lap:

“You’ve really made a life for yourself here, haven’t you Merlin? I’m proud of you. Lady Morgana and Sir Leon are exactly how I expected them to be. The house is far more than I expected, but I’m grateful, and I’m sure it won’t take me long to find a job. I’ll always miss our rural village, but nothing is stopping us from visiting every once in a while, to get away from the city, and we have a nice little garden here.-”

Merlin closes his eyes, soothed by his mother’s fingers in his hair, and hums thoughtfully before Hunith continues:

“-You know, I had always considered sending you here to apprentice under Gaius when you were older anyway. Funny, how things turn out. Though perhaps I should’ve realised that nothing was going to go to plan when the little blond boy that appeared in my kitchen all those years ago turned out to be foreign royalty.” 

Merlin huffs out a laugh from when he laid, and responded sleepily:

“Yeah. You know I don’t even think of him as royalty, most of the time. He’s just... Arthur.”

Hunith smiles gently down at him, and takes a few minutes to respond:

“I know what you mean. I’m glad you found your person... or more accurately, I’m glad your person found you.-”

She chuckles, before adding the next bit on quietly:

“-Your father would be proud of you.”

Merlin opens his eyes, and looks up at her blearily:

“You think?”

Hunith’s smile widens, and the both of them politely ignore the tears gathering in her eyes:

“I know.”

~

Time passes quickly. The next day, Merlin, Hunith, and Morgana spend the whole day shopping and stocking up on food and other necessities (the small allowance Uther had provided for them actually turned out to be quite a lot, especially compared to the amount of money Hunith was used to having around).

At some point over the next week, like Morgana had suggested, her and Hunith spent a day in the tailor’s, having all of her new clothes adjusted properly. 

Hunith was also ecstatic to get a job off the back of that. She may not be at quite the professional level yet, but she was the one most of the locals would go to, to fix and patch and re-sew old clothes back in Ealdor.

Merlin started his apprenticeship with Gaius, which meant the days being near, but not with Arthur, were less boring, and slightly more bearable.

He picked up healing quickly (after seeing all the various injuries Arthur and Leon had sustained over the years during training, he was eager to learn how to help them), and he soon became known around town as Gaius’ Boy.

His cheerful demeanour and wide smile endeared him to all of his patients, and he made a point to try and be polite to everyone he came across. Suddenly living in a bustling city, and having what was basically a full time job, was a little overwhelming, but being here meant being with Arthur, so he was determined to make the most of it.

The boys spent the evenings together whenever they could (and still slept in the same bed most nights, out of habit. Merlin’s nightmares had made a brief reappearance after his first meeting with Uther, but they stopped again fairly soon.), and Arthur would often pop out of the castle to share meals with Merlin and Hunith, Morgana and Leon joining them when they had the time.

This did however, involve a few instances of Merlin or Arthur appearing at inopportune times. 

An emergency patient coming in meant Arthur appearing in the physician’s chambers, instead of Merlin’s home, like he had expected. 

Luckily the patient was unconscious at the time. 

(Uther had informed them that the council members and guards who worked in the castle had been informed of the situation (so that Hunith and Merlin wouldn’t be bothered), but the public wasn’t to know at all, at least until Arthur came of age.)

A council meeting overrunning meant Merlin appearing just behind the Prince’s seat, and turning wide-eyed and red-faced before squeaking out a quick apology and disappearing again.

The meeting was side-tracked for a good five minutes as Arthur tried to cover a smirk, Morgana (who insisted she be involved in important meetings when Arthur was) openly laughed, and Uther held his head in his hands, rubbing his tired eyes and muttering something about “stupid kids” and “stupid soul-bonds”.

They tried to be more careful after that incident, and they got better at exploring the bond. With some focus and practice, the boys got fairly good at sensing where the other was, and sometimes, if they were with other people (though that particular sense wasn’t as reliable).

About a month after they moved to Camelot, Merlin was introduced to a lovely girl called Guinevere. Her mother had served Leon’s family, and once she was old enough to have a job herself, Leon swung her a position in the castle as Morgana’s maidservant.

Arthur was oblivious at first (until an amused Merlin explained it to him later on), but Merlin and Leon definitely noticed the... bond, between the two girls, though all four would deny it to anyone who asked, in order to preserve their privacy.

Guinevere, or Gwen, as her friends call her, quickly joined the group. Morgana was grateful for another female presence, and Leon was most certainly grateful for the addition of someone who cared about safety and being careful.

He loved his kids, (”Oh my Gods... I’m a father... how do I... Gaius I know nothing about teenagers, what do I do?? I’m not ready to be a father!”), and Hunith was a good influence, but they couldn’t be around all of the time, and the boys had a bad habit of making trouble, especially with Morgana egging them on. 

He stressed a little less when he knew that Gwen was with them.

~

Shortly after Gwen’s appearance, the group (unfortunately without Leon, he had a patrol:( ) went exploring in the woods beyond the city. Uther was stuck in meetings all day, but Arthur and Morgana had a free day, and after much begging, Gaius let Merlin off as well. 

Morgana having a free day, meant that Gwen had a free day as well (not that Morgana ever made her do many chores anyway, only enough to keep up the pretence that they were Lady and Servant and not... something else).

They put together a picnic, took some horses from the stables, and headed off at first light. It was a warm, summers day, and they planned to spend the day in the sun, Arthur didn’t have to worry about duties, Merlin didn’t have to worry about memorising herb lists and symptoms, Morgana didn’t have to worry about being a Lady, and Gwen didn’t have to mind her place as a servant.

It was planned to be the perfect day, and it almost was. 

After a couple hours journey, they found a beautiful lake, and they spent the morning splashing around in the water, playing and laughing and messing around. 

They spent the middle of the day drying in the sun and snacking on all the sweet meats and fruit that Arthur had snuck from the kitchens. 

They spent the afternoon playing stupid games, and relaxing in the shade, holding hands with no worries, and even sneaking the occasional kiss, revelling in the freedom of being alone.

They were sad to have to leave, but it became an agreement that at least once a month, whilst the weather held out, they would come to their spot by the lake, and relax with each other. No responsibilities, no obligations, no “My Lord”s or “My Lady”s, just four friends, hopelessly happy and in love.

It was on the way home that things went a little wrong.

Usually this stretch of the woods was completely safe and bandit free, but the group was not so lucky as to have an eventless journey home.

When they were about halfway home, Merlin halted his horse suddenly and sat up straight, letting go of Arthur’s hand and tilting his head, eyes closed, listening to the woods around him with a frown on his face.

Arthur looks back and frowns, before calling to the girls, a few metres ahead of them, to wait for a minute.

He looks to Merlin, still with a frown on his face:

“Merls? What is it?”

Merlin waves his hand in Arthur’s direction, gesturing at him to be quiet. He is silent for another few moments, before he opens his eyes wide, and speaks in a low, but rushed voice:

“Gwen, ride ahead with ‘Gana, everyone get your swords out, we’re being watched.”

Arthur tenses at that, and he and Merlin pull their swords out (Leon had insisted that Merlin learn, he wasn’t nearly as good as the others yet, but he could hold his own. Leon was also the one who insisted they be armed when he learnt of their plan for the day.), quickly followed by Gwen and Morgana. 

Instead of riding ahead, Morgana speaks up quickly:

“Gwen can fight just as well as me, I’ve been training her, we should stay together.”

Arthur looks worried, but Gwen just rolled her eyes before adding quietly:

“I’m also the daughter of a blacksmith you know, I’ve been handling swords since before I could walk.”

Arthur sighs and nods, before looking back to Merlin, and quietly, so that only Merlin can hear him:

“How many, and where from?”

Merlin tilts his head away from Gwen, so she can’t see the gold of his eyes, before flexing his hand slightly, and responding:

“Six or seven, I think from the South.”

Arthur nods once more, before turning his horse to be facing South, and he peers into the trees. It wasn’t quite dark out, but it was dimming, and the forest was so thick, the underbrush so overgrown, that it was difficult to see much beyond the edge of the path.

The girls urge their horses back the way they came, to be close to the boys, and stay alert, swords raised, feet braced and ready for action.

Merlin clenches his hands and gasps slightly, before murmuring, loud enough for everyone to hear him this time:

“Twenty seconds.”

Gwen goes to question how he knew that, but a quick look from Morgana, and a shaken head meaning “Later” stops her, and she instead focuses her gaze on where the others were looking into the trees.

Like Merlin had said, twenty seconds later, the treeline breaks, and seven men burst through yelling, and brandishing swords, the shock of which sends the horses scarpering, and the four of them have to jump off and let them go.

Battle broke out immediately, the teenagers aiming to incapacitate or injure, but the bandits not being so kind with their attacks.

The battle is intense, Merlin using little bits of subtle magic here and there to trip or confuse various attackers, Arthur and Morgana slowly but surely taking down men, one by one, and Gwen easily enough holding her own.

But, four, mostly inexperienced (Arthur had only had to actually fight for his life once or twice at this point, and before, he was surrounded by fully trained knights whose top priority was keeping him safe, even to their own detriment) teenagers, aged 15, 16, and 17, were no match for seven seasoned attackers.

In the end, it’s the four of them left (each with bruises and cuts, but nothing serious) vs three remaining attackers, but the battle quickly stops when Merlin turns around (a gut feeling) to see one of the men silently raise a sword, readying to bring it down on to Gwen’s turned back.

He instinctively raises his empty hand towards them, and yells:

“NO!”

He sends the man flying back, head hitting the tree behind him with a thwack.

Gwen stares at him (or more accurately, the golden glow of his eyes) in astonishment, and Morgana and Arthur use the momentary distraction to deal with the last two attackers, giving them swift knocks to the head.

Morgana rushes forward to Gwen and tugs at her shoulder, trying to get her attention to see if she’s ok, but she ignores her just staring at Merlin.

Merlin drops his hand, and his face morphs from anger to shock to fear, the gold in his eyes fading back to blue as Arthur reaches his side and takes his hand. 

Gwen finally stutters out a:

“What... you’re... but Uther?-” before wiping the shock off her face, and setting it in grim determination, clenching her jaw.

Merlin’s eyes widen at her expression, and he takes a fearful step back, Arthur steps in front of him and Morgana tries to grab Gwen’s arm as she begins to stalk quickly forwards, but it slips from her grip.

Arthur holds his hands out, and begins to speak, seemingly trying to talk her out of hurting Merlin, but she ignores him, and pushes him to the side with surprising strength.

Merlin gasps and tries to take another step back, tears in his eyes, but she grabs his shoulders and, before anyone can say anything more, pulls him into a crushing hug.

Merlin takes a few moments to respond, clearly not expecting such an affectionate reaction to being discovered as an evil sorcerer, but hugs back at Gwen’s watery “Thank you.” whispered in his ear.

Arthur lets out a breath, and he and Morgana smile, not really sure why they were so surprised at Gwen’s acceptance. I guess that’s what happens when you grow up in Camelot, expecting hatred and violence and fear in response to magic is ingrained in you.

Gwen finally pulls back, and takes Merlin’s hands, the both of them have tears on their faces, and Gwen sniffs before quietly saying:

“I’m sorry that you have to live in fear, and I’m sorry I wasn’t clear enough in my adoration for you that you felt you had to be scared of my reaction. I promise to keep you safe, to the best of my ability.-”

She fondly punches him in the arm, before continuing with a smile:

“Next time, you can just do that right at the beginning, and save us all the trouble, yeah?”

Merlin nods slowly, before pulling Gwen into another tight hug. He buries his face in her neck, and she runs her hands through his hair and they both quietly weep.

Arthur and Morgana both feel the strong urge to step in, and comfort their own soulmates, but they resist, and instead give them a moment of privacy as they round up the horses, and search the bandits.

After a few minutes, Gwen and Merlin pull back, and walk towards the other two, holding each other’s hand comfortingly. 

Whilst searching their unconscious bodies, Arthur hadn’t found anything identifying, but had found a length of rope in one of their discarded bags, hidden in the underbrush.

He cuts the rope into separate pieces and ties the bandits up, to individual trees, before looking back to the group:

“This won’t hold them long at all, but we don’t have the means to transport them back to the city. I can get my father to send a search party to look for them, but by the time we get back to the City, and the Knights get out here, they’ll probably be long gone.”

Morgana raises an eyebrow and replies:

“I thought you Knights were excellent trackers. They won’t wake up for a while, and they’ll be dazed, so it’ll take them a while to get out of the rope, if your knots are any good-”

Arthur goes to retort, but Gwen quickly interrupts him:

“That’s not the point. What if one of them remembers what Merlin did? And accuses him? Uther probably wouldn’t take their word against all of ours, but it would attract unwanted attention, wouldn’t it? And, no offense Merlin, but he’s already not exactly fond of you.”

Arthur nods at that, and Morgana hums thoughtfully, whilst Merlin just stares at her in shock. He speaks up after a moment:

“We could loosen the knots, and wake them up a little before leaving? That way they’ll have plenty of time to escape before the knights get here? But we have to report it. The types of men to attack four teenagers, none in armour, and two of whom are women, need to be warned about.”

Arthur and Gwen look troubled at that, and Arthur speaks up first:

“Morgana is right though, the Knights are brilliant at tracking, what if they find them anyway? I won’t risk one of them remembering what you did.”

Merlin looks annoyed, always the one to sacrifice himself, and Morgana furrows her brows before looking up, and speaking slowly:

“You could... over exaggerate how violent they were? Request a kill on sight order? That way, none of them make it back to testify, but they’re also no longer a problem for travellers.”

Arthur tilts his head in surprise, and Gwen widens her eyes at the suggestion.

Arthur looks like he’s genuinely considering it, when Merlin gasps:

“Oh!! Wait! The other day, I read about a spell. It’s like a memory charm, I can make them forget the last ten minutes or so, if it works, and we time it right, they’ll remember attacking us, but not how the fight ended!”

He has a grin on his face, but Morgana and Gwen look doubtful, whilst Arthur looks thoughtful, before speaking:

“Have you tried it before? Do you know it would work?”

Merlin turns a little pink, before looking to the floor, and saying:

“Well... do you remember agreeing to let me try it on you last week?”

Morgana grins as she realises the implication of the question, and Gwen gasps as Arthur’s eyes grow wide, and he shakes his head slowly:

“...No.”

Merlin finally meets his eyes, with a nervous smile on his face as he says:

“Then yeah, I’ve tried it before and it worked fine.”

Morgana and Gwen start laughing as Merlin bites his lip and Arthur blinks a few times, before speaking again:

“...Ok, you cast the charm or whatever, I’ll make sure the ropes are done tightly, then we’ll wait for one of them to wake up, to check that it worked, then we’ll leave, and send a patrol back to arrest them.”

With the girls still laughing in the background, Merlin goes to the three attackers who had witnessed him perform magic and cast the spell, whilst Arthur double checked all of the bindings.

The group only has to splash cold water on the face of one of the attackers for him to cough himself awake. He looks around, clearly bewildered, and yells:

“What?? How the fuck... what did... how hard do you hit, kid? Jeez, how the fuck did I-”

He’s cut off by Arthur hitting him in the head again with the hilt of his sword, before he steps back and says:

“Ok. It worked. I think it’d be best if we got home as quickly as possible, we’re already going to be late.”

With that, the group takes one last cursory glance (and fill with pride at the idea that they’d managed to fight off a group of thieving murderous bandits all on their own) at the bound bandits, before mounting their horses, and urging them into a gallop towards Camelot.

The report to Uther was definitely intense, The King was furious that a group of violent criminals were attacking citizens, especially women (though Arthur made sure to point out that Morgana fought just as well as him, and Gwen held her own just fine) so close to the city.

He immediately sent out a large patrol to scour the woods, focussed especially around the path they used, and to not come back until the seasons changed, or the criminals were found.

Arthur was right, the ropes hadn’t held them for long, but he was also right in saying that Camelot Knights were excellent trackers, and they were hunted down within a week, and brought back to Camelot for sentencing.

Arthur and Morgana tried to speak against it, at Merlin and Gwen’s request, but Uther ultimately sentenced the offenders to execution, for crimes against the Crown and Citizens of Camelot, and didn’t question why they couldn’t even remember half the fight.

In fact, that actually had Uther praising the group for fighting well, and he begrudgingly admitted that Morgana’s sword lessons (which she had been ruthlessly demanding since she was a child) and Guinevere’s subsequent training, had paid off well.

~

THE END OF PART 2

Wow so I finished this way quicker than I was expecting, I just really love this concept, thanks anon, for requesting :)

Anyway, hope you enjoy gang

[rinarecommends]

Affliction

Here’s my contribution to the Villain AU bnharem collab! You can find the other submissions here! 

I hope you enjoy!

Affliction (n): something that causes pain or suffering:

“Breaking news: We have yet another report to add to the slew of attacks this month, this comes just days after we broadcast rumours of villains running rampant over the city. This spate of attacks has put the entire metropolitan area at a standstill, road closures and damaged property making it difficult for commuters to get to work in the morning. Road maintenance endeavour to do its best to keep the city running, but it seems futile when these attacks continue to increase. The entire city was brought to a standstill by the mysterious villain who has still not been named, but reports show they are nothing like we have ever experienced before. 

Where are the heroes now? Who will save us from the terror overwhelming our city?

Every day the crime toll continues to rise and we have no one here to protect us. The Hero Public Safety Commission assured us earlier in the week that the crime rate would go down, that the top Heroes are out there protecting our city, but if so, where are they? Is it really safe to go out anymore, who can we trust? Would you put your life in the hands of a Hero today? When they have proved our streets are no longer safe. We still have no information on what is going on, or who is involved but we must remain observant. We will continue to report the latest news as we receive it, but for now, we must implore you to heed the warnings of the city-wide curfew that is soon to be implemented. If anyone has any information on these occurrences in the city please send them to us or contact the police, you can remain anonymous. The safety of our citizens is what is most important, stay vigilant and don’t go out unless it is absolutely necessary.

One thing we know for sure: we can no longer rely on Heroes to protect us. The streets of our once-great city are no longer safe, we are no longer safe.”

You stared at the TV and continued staring at it, even as the breaking news passed and regular scheduled tv resumed. When did it all go wrong? It seemed like just yesterday, you dreamt of working with heroes, helping to make the world safe, but it had been 2 years since you abandoned those aspirations, for love, or at least, that’s what you tell yourself. 

“Dumbass, I’m home.” You heard a familiar voice echo through the apartment, but you didn’t say anything, too lost in your thoughts. 

“Y/N? Are you home?” You heard him ask, but your brain couldn’t process the words to reply, to tell him yes, you were home, where he should have been hours ago instead of out destroying the city with the league of villains. 

You heard his footsteps getting closer, but the sound of them faded as your thoughts raced to figure out when it all started, when everything went wrong.

You met Katsuki Bakugou during your first year at UA. You were a first year student, but you weren’t in his class, instead you were in the support course. Each kid in first year support was paired up with a first year hero student, to be their support tech throughout the duration of their stay at UA. You were lucky enough to be paired with him. He was everything you thought a hero should be. He was strong, brave, and he had a good heart, even if most people couldn’t see it because of his rough exterior, loud disposition, and ego, but you could, you had always been good at reading people. The first time he actually acknowledged your existence was after the sports festival. 

You remember it like it was yesterday. You were in your little corner of the support lab, tinkering with a gadget you had designed for a project that PowerLoader had assigned to you.

You heard the door slide open, roughly, but you didn’t pay it any mind, support kids were sometimes rough, especially if they were deep in thought about a gadget or design they were working on.

“I’m looking for an extra named L/N. Where are they?” You snapped your eyes up at that, met with a sight of wild blonde hair and a lean, muscled physique in a UA uniform. The person closest to the door gaped at him and just pointed in your direction, making him snap his eyes, landing his sight on you. You gave him a short wave, indicating that you were the person that he was looking for, for whatever reason.

“You’re supposed to be my support tech while I’m at UA. I need modifications and shit to make me stronger. I don’t want anymore wins handed to me the way the fucking sports festival was. I’m aiming to be the undeniable number one. If you can’t do that, tell me and I’ll find someone who can, get it?” His voice was sharp with an edge to it, and you realized that this was a pivotal moment, in what would become of whatever relationship you would have with this boy. He was essentially telling you that he was going to be number one, and you had to be number one as well. If you couldn’t, he’d find someone who could. Were you the best? No. Did you want to be the best? Yes. Your answer to him was simple. 

You smiled at him and said, “Tell me what you want, and I’ll do it.” His answer was a grin that showed his pointy teeth and spread across his face. If only you had known what was coming. “Y/N? Why are you crying?” Katsuki’s voice snapped you out of your memories and suddenly you were aware that he was shaking you. You gasped and snapped your eyes towards his, meeting his ruby red eyes. 

“I wasn’t aware that I was crying.” You muttered out, wiping your eyes, finding them wet, indicating that you were actually crying. He looked at you.

“You weren’t aware? Can you at least give me a reason as to why you would be crying?” He sat down beside you, pulling you into his lap. You breathed in his scent, something that used to calm you, but it just made your chest feel heavy, with the strong smell of nitroglycerin from his quirk and the dirt and flecks of blood, that probably wasn’t his, from the destruction that he’d caused somewhere in the city. 

“Katsuki.” You said his name. He hummed in acknowledgement, his face had made its way into the crook of your neck, peppering kisses there, showing you affection. “How did we get here?” You voiced the question that had been wracking your brain for so long, something that you asked yourself so many times but never found an answer that you were satisfied with.

He grunted. “What are you talking about babe?”

“How did we go from wanting to save the world, to destroying it? How did we get here?” You asked softly, trying your best not to anger him. His temper was shorter these days, even shorter than back at UA. He’d never laid a hand on you, but you weren’t really sure what he was capable of these days. You weren’t even sure who he was. He looked like your Katsuki, but that was where the similarities to the boy you fell in love with ended, except for the small moments when he made love to you or showed you affection. 

“Y/N.” He said in a warning tone. He didn’t like talking about this. He had never given you a straight answer, never gave you a reason. He only asked you to follow him one day, to walk away from Support Course and UA, and you did because you loved him, more than anything. You sighed, not letting it go, even though that’s probably what he thought you were doing, but you wanted to choose your next words, your next step, carefully. 

Katsuki Bakugou, you had discovered while working on his equipment, was everything people had said he was, but he was also nothing like they said he was, at the same time. He was loud. He was Vulgar. He had an Ego. He was hot, but he was also kind, in his own way. He was brave. He was determined. He was smart, a genius really. You could tell he was softer than he let on. In the months since he slammed into the Support lab, you had gotten to know him, and he had shown you his kind side, in private, and in public. He had brought out parts of you that you hadn’t known existed. He made you feel things. He made you want to be better so that you could always stay by his side because you knew he was going to do great things. He made your stomach flutter with butterflies. He made your skin burn when he touched you or grazed you. He made your heart race when he came into the room sweaty after a workout with Kirishima. You liked him. You really liked him.

“So. When are you going to let me take you out on a date, or are we just going to keep up with the glances and flirting?” He grunted out while sitting beside you on your workbench, as you were working on modifying his gauntlets. You froze for a second before snapping your eyes to him, dropping whatever was in your hand. You just gave him a look before smiling softly.

“I thought you’d never ask.” you stated, going back to work on the task at hand.

“That doesn’t answer my damn question, dumbass.” He snapped, but all you did was giggle at him, making him snort.

“I’ve wracked my brain the past two years, wondering why we were doing this, why were we leaving everything behind, everything we believed in, to destroy things we were training to protect. I can’t find an answer that satisfies me. I don’t understand what could have made the boy I fell in love with decide that he wanted to destroy hero society instead of be the #1 Hero.” He pushed you off of his lap, landing you on the couch where you were before he pulled you onto his lap. He sighed in frustration pulling at his hair.

“Why does it matter so much? You’re the one who agreed to come with me, you’re the one who followed me because I asked you too. I love you, is that not enough?” He hissed out at you, you flinched because he’d never taken a tone like this with you, but his face softened when he saw you flinch at his voice. 

“The league just gave me reasons to destroy hero society as it is and rebuild it, that’s all. The heroes you know, we know, aren’t good people at all. Endeavor abuses his kids and wife, why do you think Todoroki was so emotionally fucking constipated when we were in school with him? Best Jeanist is more worried about appearances as a hero than actual hero work. I could go on, but I just, I just can’t be a hero in the society as it is today, if things were different, then maybe we’d still be at UA, or even graduated, but this is the world we were given, Y/N. This is what’s right. Why can’t you see that?” He had gotten on his knees in front of you, grabbing your hands to hold as he said this. You let his words sink in. He had finally given you an answer, albeit a very vague one, but it was progress, right? Sadly, it wasn’t enough. It didn’t satisfy you to the point where you felt comfortable continuing to build him gadgets to help destroy hero society and the city. It didn’t show you a glimpse, a sliver, of the boy you used to know. All you saw was someone that you loved, without a doubt you loved him, but you didn’t know him at all. Shigaraki and his goons had twisted him somehow. 

“I followed you because I love you, but you’re hurting people Katsuki. INNOCENT PEOPLE. The boy I love, the one that was determined to win and be the best hero there is, may have been temperamental, egotistical, but he NEVER hurt innocent people. I can’t continue to make equipment for you that’s going to be used for demolition of the city and innocent people’s suffering. Everytime I look at the news, I see more chaos, more destruction, and my heart hurts a little bit more, and I feel a little more guilty. It’s eating me up inside, that I’ve helped you for the last 2 years, but unlike you, baby, I don’t want to lose who I was completely. I love you, I really do -”

“Are you leaving me?” He breathed out, as if the concept of losing you struck a chord within him, as if it was something he was scared of, but you were scared too. Who were you without Katsuki Bakugou? What position did you play in this world if it wasn’t by his side?

“I -” He cut you off again, not allowing you to answer his previous question. 

“Do you remember when I told you I loved you for the first time?” He asked looking at you, deep into your eyes, as if he was looking at your soul. What kind of question was that? Of course you remembered, it was one of the greatest days of your life, one of the best feelings in the world was knowing you were loved by Katsuki Bakugou.

You nodded.

You looked up at the sky, watching the fireworks glitter in the sky. The hues of colors make your heart soar. You felt Katsuki grab your hand and squeeze, making you turn away from the show to him. 

“I have something I want to tell you.” He muttered, just loud enough for you to hear him. You smiled at him and nodded indicating you were listening, but he didn’t say anything else. You quirked your brow up at him, but he wouldn’t meet your gaze, so you turned back towards the show in the sky.

“I love you.” You heard him say making your heart stop, snapping your eyes back to him, away from the show once again. You opened and closed your mouth, repeatedly, not expecting that he’d be the first to say it. You loved him, more than anything, but you had been scared to tell him because you didn’t want to ruin the relationship since it had only been 5 months of dating. You knew Katsuki was slower on the uptake with feelings, especially his own, so you kept quiet for the time being, loving him in silence, but here he was confessing his love to you. 

“I know I’m not the best at this relationship thing, but you’re the only person that’s ever made me feel something besides anger. You don’t look down on me because of my attitude, and you don’t put me on a pedestal because of my quirk. You just let me be myself- “ you go to say something, but he holds his hand up, indicating for you to be quiet.

“When you smile at me, you make my heart stop. Your laugh makes me get those cringy bullshit butterflies in my stomach, and you’re so smart, possibly the smartest person I know. It’s like you complete me, make me want to do better, to be better, as if I wasn’t already aiming to be the best. All of these things and so many more make me love you. I love you, Y/N.” He took in a breath as he finished his monologue, but you didn’t let him get a good enough breath before your lips were moving against his in a slow, passionate kiss, showing him that you loved him too, before you told him. He grabbed you by your hips, pulling you closer to him, deepening the kiss, making your toes curl. They say when you kiss someone, you feel sparks if it’s a right fit, but with Katsuki you feel like a live wire, full of energy and alive. You felt tingles down your back. His kiss was like another form of breathing, you don’t know if you’d ever be able to survive without it again.

“I love you too, so much.” You breathed to him as you pulled away. He smiled softly, an expression that he reserved solely for you and kissed you again. A simple peck

“Yeah?” He said, lips grazing yours, in an almost kiss. You beamed and nodded, bringing him into another slow, passionate kiss.

“How could I ever forget that?” You muttered to him. 

“I still feel the same. I still love you. You’re still the only one who makes me feel alive, still the only person that’s ever given me shitty butterflies. You;re the only light I have left in my life, Y/N. If you leave me, what’s the point in trying to make the world better? I don’t give a fuck about anyone else in this city, besides you. I’d burn the city to the ground if someone told me that was the only way to make sure you were safe. I’d kill, steal, and destroy for you, nobody else, just you. Fuck Shigaraki. Fuck Dabi. Fuck Twice. Fuck all of them. I didn’t join the league because of them, I did it because I want the world to be a better place for you, a place worthy of your existence.” He was on his feet again, pacing, pulling at his hair. It was if he was in a frenzy of, dare you say it, psychotic rambling. Words about how much he loved you and what he would do for you kept pouring out, but they didn’t do anything but make you sadder, hurt you more. 

“Stop.” You whispered, but he obviously didn’t hear you because he kept going on and on.

“Stop.” You said a little louder, still not getting a response from him. 

“Fucking STOP KATSUKI.” You yelled, your emotions finally getting to you. Tears poured down your face like streams of water. He stopped, turning to you instantly at your yell.

“Just stop.” You said, “I don’t know what has made you think that this world is not worthy of my existence, but you’re wrong. I am fine with this world the way that it is. It has its flaws, but every society does, nothing is perfect, no one is perfect. I don’t want you to do anything for me, not kill people, not burn a city down, none of this should be done for my sake, don’t blame these actions on me. I can’t watch you do this anymore. I love you more than anything, and it used to be my favorite thing to do, love you, but it just brings me sadness and pain now. It hurts to love you, for who you are now, because this isn’t you, this can’t be you, can’t be MY Katsuki. My Katsuki was a hero, is a hero. He wants to win, wants to be the best. I tried to accept you being a villain, because not all villains are bad people, just in bad circumstances, but this is too much, you are too much, loving you is too much. It’s like an affliction in my heart, and I just can’t do it anymore.

Tears were running down his face and he fell to his knees.

“If I don’t have you, what do I have? Please…. Don’t leave me baby. We can figure this out. I can stop. We can be heroes if that’s what you want. Just don’t go. Stay. With me.” He breathed out, voice barely audible, only loud enough for you, and you alone, to hear. You thought about it. You didn’t want to leave him, that was the last thing you wanted, but after seeing what you have seen, could you stay? 

You stood in the middle of the crowd, watching All Might’s last fight as the #1 hero, except you wouldn’t know it was his last until he uttered the words “now, it’s your turn.” 

“You shouldn’t be here.” You heard the gruffness of his voice before you saw him, spinning around to see him beat up, bruised, but alive, he was alive, that’s all that mattered to you in that moment. You had told yourself that you weren’t going to cry. Katsuki didn’t like it when you cried, but the sobs took over as soon as you got a good look at him. He grabbed you and pulled you into his chest, consoling you, reassuring you that everything was okay, that he was okay, that you were back together with each other again and you’d never have to be without him again. 

“I thought you were going to die, I thought I was going to lose you, Suki. I can’t lose you… I just can’t.” You said wiping your tears furiously, trying to get yourself together for him. He grabbed your hands from wiping your face and pulled you towards him again, this time you felt a soft peck on your forehead. 

“I’m here.” He said to you. You nodded at him, looking up into his eyes, pools of ruby that you loved so much, that you didn’t think you could live without. Maybe if you had looked closer, you would have noticed the dullness that had started to take over the sparkle, maybe you could have changed the course of what was to come. 

It happened three days later. You were decorating the dorm that you had to move into with the rest of the support course, following Katsuki’s abduction. You turned your head when someone knocked on the wall beside your door, since your door was open as you were decorating. You were surprised to see Katsuki standing there, in civilian clothes. 

“Hey babe. What’s up? Need some repairs already?” You teased him, but he didn’t smile, didn’t snort, didn’t make a comment about how he only needed so many repairs because he was the best. 

He walked into your room and shut the door.

“I’m leaving UA.” He muttered, just loud enough for you to hear, as if he didn’t want anyone else to hear what he said. 

“What are you talking about?” You said, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Why would he leave his dream school? Did he want to go to another Hero School? Did he not feel safe at UA anymore?

“The league made me an offer. I’ve decided that I’m going to take it.” Your world halted at those words. What kind of offer could the league have made to make him quit his dreams of being the #1 hero? What could they have said to make him join their cause?

“The league… made you an offer?” you replied to him slowly, hoping that this was a weird daydream, a walking nightmare. He just nodded.

“What kind of offer?” You asked him. The only answer he gave you was a shake of his head, a muttered “it’s not important.” It was important though. What did this mean for his dreams? What did this mean for your dreams that involved him? What did this mean for the two of you as a whole?

“I want you to come with me. I don’t want to be without you, and I’ll need repairs for the things I’m going to do.” He said after a pause in the conversation. You looked at him. What could you say? You had always wanted to build support items. You wanted to make tools to better the world, until you met him. He became your dreams, your aspirations. You wanted to make things for Katsuki, for him only. You wanted to propel his dreams of being the best, to make them a reality. If this was what he wanted to do, if this was what he had chosen, there had to be a reason, a good reason. You trusted him. You loved him. 

You nodded. 

“When do we leave?” 

“I can’t stay, Katsuki.” You said, tears rolling down your face, continuously, no matter how much you tried to make them stop.

You headed towards the room that you two shared in the rundown one-room apartment that he paid for, somehow. You grabbed your bag and packed the few things that you had accumulated in the two years that you guys had been hiding out from everyone. You had somehow never been found, even though you and him were declared missing, even though you were in plain sight. Katsuki had dyed his hair black, gotten some tattoos, some piercings, so that nobody would recognize him. You had dyed your hair as well. You wanted tattoos, but you were too afraid of the pain. 

“How can I fix this?” He asked, watching you pack, taking things out of your bag as you put them in. You sighed and stopped to look at him.

“I don’t know if you can fix this, Katsuki. This is never what I pictured our life together would be like. This isn’t what I wanted. It’s not what I thought you wanted, and I just… can’t do it anymore. I’m tired of hiding, tired of chaos and destruction. Hero society may have some corrupt heroes, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t good heroes, worthy heroes. It doesn’t mean you couldn’t have been different, changed it by being the change.”

A tear slipped down his cheek. His eyes pleading with you, almost making you want to stop packing, to stay, to just keep helping him because you love him, but you knew, deep down, that you couldn’t. This was the right thing to do. You were being a hero, in your own way. 

You zipped up your bag, fully packed with all of your stuff. You looked at him, taking him in. This was the love of your life. You’d never love someone else the way that you loved Katsuki Bakugou. You loved him fully, wholly, deeply, intensely. It was an all consuming love. The kind of love that some people never got to experience in their life, and you were walking away. You had to walk away. 

“I love you, Katsuki Bakugou.” You said as you turned around and walked out of the apartment, out of his sight, out of his life.

*2 Months Later*

It had taken 2 weeks for Katsuki to stop calling you multiple times a day. 3 weeks for him to stop calling you every day. One month to stop calling you every other day. A month and a half to stop calling at all. Your phone hadn’t had his name across your screen in 2 weeks. You wondered if he was okay. Had he been eating? Sleeping? Had he been hurt? If so, was it because you weren’t there to make repairs for him? 

You had returned home, to your parents. They had stared at you when you showed up on their doorstep, as if they didn’t believe that it was really you, after 2 long years. They had hugged you for what felt like an hour as they pulled you into the house you had grown up in. They hadn’t asked you any questions, maybe they didn’t want to know. The police had come around a couple days after your return, asking questions, but you didn’t give them anything. You wouldn’t tell them that the villain who’d been causing mayhem was Katsuki. You wouldn’t rat him out, you couldn’t. You left him, but you didn’t want to see him in jail, you still had hope that there was something in there, something that still knew the values of heroism, that wanted to be the best. You had told them that you and Katsuki had broken up, but you wouldn’t tell them where you had been, what you had been doing. You just wanted it to be over, to try and make up for the wrong you had done, to repent for your actions.

That’s how you found yourself sitting on your parents’ couch in the living room, sifting through papers to get certified to work in the support field, thankfully there was a certification program that was similar to having graduated from a support course in a hero school. It wasn’t UA, but it was something. Your parents weren’t home, so you were left to your own devices. You had the TV on for background noise, you weren’t even sure what channel was on, focusing on what you needed to complete to get into the certification program.

“Breaking News: The League of Villains has been taken down. A raid on their current hideout occurred this morning, with heroes apprehending all members, including Tomura Shigaraki. The raid was able to occur because of inside information given to the police. 

Two years ago, Katsuki Bakugou, then a student of UA went missing along with his girlfriend and support course student, Y/N L/N. It turns out that he left UA, taking Y/N with him for support, and joined the league, having been convinced what they were doing was right, but 2 weeks ago, he turned himself in, told the cops everything that he had done, everything that the league had planned. In return for this invaluable information, he got a reduced sentence of 3 months in a correctional facility, followed with Community Service for 8 months. He also will be able to apply for a Hero License in 3 years, if he wants, as long as he has good behavior throughout the 3 years until that point. Concerning Y/N L/N, he hasn’t indicated that she had anything to do with this, and there is no proof that she committed any crimes. 

Today was a win for heroes and civilians alike. After the seemingly endlessly high crime rate, society may actually see a drop now that the league has been detained and headed to Tartarus. 

Following this raid, there will also be an investigation into hero society, due to information on certain heroes, like Endeavor, that has been revealed. Heroes are not above the law, they are just like everyone else.

More information will be given when there is more to add.”

You stared at the TV, eyes wide. Katsuki… had turned himself in? You looked at the mug shot they showed of him, when he turned himself in. Black Hair. Tattoos. Piercings. Sparkling Ruby Red Eyes, as if a light had been reignited into them. Was this because of you leaving? You were inclined to think so, at least in part, and the thought of Katsuki being in a facility, broke your heart, but it also mended it. At least he wasn’t hurting innocent people anymore. At least he had done what was right, in the end. 

You leaned back into the couch, heaving a sigh. You felt as if a weight had been lifted off your chest, leaving him had alleviated it some, but this, this news made you feel like you could breathe again. 

Your phone vibrated beside you, you answered it, not looking at the screen, assuming it was your parents or one of the few UA classmates who you had met up with when you returned, surely they had seen the news, some may have even been in the raid.

You put the phone to your ear.

“He -” You started but you were interrupted by an automated voice that began talking. 

“This is a collect call from inmate Katsuki Bakugou at Shizuoka Correctional Facility. If you would like to accept the call and charges that apply, please press 1. Fees will accumulate for every minute over 15 that the call lasts. If you want to deny the call, please press 2.” 

[fratboykate]

Papi, C, CB (I'm not really sure which you prefer. I'm new here from AO3, so please let me know. Anyways…) frat boy AU has me in stitches. Can I ask less comedic, more romantic questions tho? Kate lays it all on the line with her fundraiser ask, but what gestures/actions does she do beforehand that she thinks shows Yelena how serious she is and leads to that heartbreak/anger? Also what does Kate do differently before/after that night with Yelena compared to the other boys/girls?

Yelena gets to her apartment and her roommate is like "Kate stopped by". Yelena is like "??????? For what?????" Her roommate steps back and her apartment is FILLED with flowers...............in liquor and beer bottles. Like.....

This dumbass was SO CLOSE. She ALMOST had it. The thing every girl wants is roses and sunflowers...inside a PBR can and a Jose Cuervo bottle. Yelena calls her and is like "Why did you drop off your recycling at my apartment? Come get this shit bro..." JFJSMFJSNFJWNFJWNF Kate's hella confused. Like "?????????! What do you mean you aren't calling to profess your undying love for me???? I drank like 48 beers to empty those cans. That was the booze bottle collection I had on my wall. That was prized bitchhhhh." Heartbroken confused puppy.

But she's like "AIGHT. OKAY. NO WORRIES. I CAN KEEP TRYING."

Yelena is leaving a lab late at night and all of a sudden all she sees is a flaming arrow flying legit like a millimeters from her face. She falls back and sees the arrow hit the bottom of a vine-covered wall. The fire starts to climb up the vines in a perfectly straight line. Yelena can see it form a "D", then an "i", then it seems like it starts to spell an "n" before the fire starts to spread QUICKLY. See...it was supposed to spell "Dinner?" on the vines growing on the wall but had Kate known a little more about science she would know that even if you put accelerant on a small area of flammable things if all of the area surrounding said thing is also flammable it will fucking burn too. Yeahhhhhhhhh...the whole vine wall went up in flames and they had to run out of there before they both got caught. The labs were closed for like two weeks because the sprinklers went off and they had to clean everything up. It was a whole MESS. Luckily Kate at least had the clarity of mind to grab her arrow before they ran because they could never figure out what started the fire.

Yelena is like "1) Don't EVER fucking throw an arrow that close to my face ever again 2) You could've burned that building down 3) What the fuck is wrong with you?" Kate is like "So...............is that a yes or a no on dinner? 🤪" I'll let you guess what the very angry answer was.

Kate's like "NOT OUT YET! THIRD TIME'S THE CHARM!"

Yelena is getting out of her 10pm class and walking home. A van screeches up in front of her. Four people in black clothes and ski masks jump out. She's Alexei's daughter so she can FIGHT. She beats the shit out of them but they eventually overpower her and throw her in the van. They tie her hands. She's FREAKING OUT. They drive for like twenty minutes. They get to a place and keep driving in circles. They're going up. Then they get into an elevator. Then by the breeze and the sound Yelena can tell they're on a rooftop. They cut the restraints in her hands and they take her hood off.

Kate is standing two feet from her and behind Kate a fancy ass dinner table for two set up on a private roof top with the most perfect 360 degree view of NYC. Yelena turns to look behind her and it's guys from the archery and Tae Kwon Do teams. The guys hurry out of there leaving Kate and Yelena alone.

"Hi."

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MIND?!"

"I got the chef from your favorite restaurant to make us dinner. But with a better view."

"You thought KINDNAPPING ME was the best idea?!"

"NOOOOOOOOOO...Kidnapping is the wrong word! Surprise! I was SURPRISING you! We do this to the freshmen who join the team on their first night on campus! They think it's fun! It's a nice story! IT'S FUN!"

"Kate................................I could kill you."

Yelena gets the fuck out of there.

So next time, for the archery fundraiser, Kate is like: "OKAY. No grand gestures. Those seem to keep biting me in the ass. I'm just going to ask her. If I ask and do NOTHING ELSE, she'll just say yes. Obviously." But then she asks and Yelena still says no. Then Kate gets REALLY butthurt and Undeclared Freshman happens.

[junghelioseok]

clandestine. | 03

↳ forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest.

◇ jungkook x reader ◇ smut | fluff | brother’s best friend!au ◇ 9.2k [3/6]

notes: this will likely be my last update of this fic until the new year, because i have two (2!!!) other fics that i’m planning to post in december, including another jungoo one, so! please look forward to those, and enjoy this chapter in the meantime! 

warnings: jk’s massive noona kink: a recurring yet warranted warning, me absolutely fucking up everything about korea’s geography probably, semi-public? fingering???, jungkook....... shall we say, rocks the boat, there is one (1) dick pic but no one’s complaining

⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 

Monday - 11:27am

Kim Taehyung added you to the group: the great escape!!!!!! 🏝🚗💨

[11:27am] Taehyung: let’s gooooooooooo!!

[11:27am] Jisoo: ???

[11:28am] Lisa: go where?

[11:28am] Taehyung: parks lake house this weekend! we’re going on vacation!

[11:28am] You: hold up tae, we haven’t even asked our parents if we can have the house yet

[11:29am] Chimchim: oh yeah lmao

[11:29am] Chimchim: u wanna go ask noona??

[11:29am] You: nope

[11:30am] Chimchim: ugh, fine

[11:30am] Chimchim: u big baby

[11: 31am] You: 🙄

[11: 37am] Chimchim: they said yes!

[11:38am] Taehyung: LET’S GOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

[11:38am] Minho: sweet 👍

[11:38am] Taemin: tight

[11:39am] Jungkook: dope

[11:40AM] Jisoo: you’re all idiots 🙄

Tuesday - 2:34pm

[2:34pm] Chimchim: i’ve secured the van

[2:34pm] Chimchim: for the trip i mean

[2:35pm] Taehyung: noice

[2:35pm] You: 10 people aren’t gonna fit in mom’s van, chim

[2:37pm] Jungkook: i can drive too

[2:37pm] Chimchim: 👍👍

[2:37pm] Chimchim: see? nothing to worry about

[2:38pm] Jungkook: yeah noona, nothing to worry about. nothing at all.

Wednesday - 9:49pm

[9:49pm] Taehyung: oh my god we need FOOD

[9:49pm] Lisa: you’re just realizing that now?

[9:50pm] Taehyung: shut up

[9:50pm] Taehyung: i have a cooler

[9:51pm] Lisa: and ice?

[9:51pm] Taehyung: ………… i will buy some ice

[9:52pm] You: there’s a grocery store on the way up that we always used to go to, we can stock up there

[9:52pm] Taehyung: 👍

[9:54pm] You: you also better remember to bring your own towels. and more than one change of clothing

[9:54pm] Taehyung: 👍👍

[9:55pm] Chimchim: yes, mom

///

The day of the trip finds you standing in the foyer, rifling through your purse to make sure you have all the essentials. Off in the distance, you can hear Jimin sprinting around frantically, catching the briefest glimpse of his ruffled blond hair before he disappears again into the depths of the house.

“Chim, I swear to god. Why didn’t you pack earlier?”

“I did!” your brother whines, poking his head out from the living room where his suitcase is lying wide open, belongings scattered in every direction. “It’s just that—oh, fuck. Do you have my toothbrush?”

“Why would I have your toothbrush?” you deadpan.

He ignores you, and not two seconds later, he lets out an excited shout. “Never mind! I found it!”

You sigh and rub your temples. The trip hasn’t even begun, yet you’re already feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on. “I’m going outside,” you call to your brother, who grunts in acknowledgement. Opening up the front door, you drag your suitcase out onto the sun-drenched porch, relishing the welcome breeze that caresses your cheeks and whispers through your hair.

The rare moment of peace is broken almost immediately by the rumble of a starting engine—the sound shuddery and wavering before it finally evens out into a steady, mechanical purr. It’s coming from nearby, and your gaze immediately travels to the neighboring driveway where a beat-up sedan sits, torn between exasperation and amusement when you see Jungkook waving at you from the driver’s seat.

“I’m coming to pick you up!” he calls through the open window, and you hold back your laughter as he reverses out of his driveway, rolls ten feet down the street, and pulls into yours.

“Was that really necessary?” you ask once he’s parked.

“Of course it was,” he replies, hopping out to grab your suitcase. You watch as he pops the trunk and loads it inside, and blanch when you realize what that means.

“Wait a second. Am I riding with you?”

Some emotion flashes across his face, but he wipes it away before you can identify it. “Would that be so terrible?”

It’s been one week since Taehyung’s party, and Jisoo’s warning still rings loud and clear in your brain. Still, you feign nonchalance and tamp down the uptick in your heart rate, offering him a shrug. “Just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.”

He grunts. An awkward silence settles over you as he adjusts your suitcase in the trunk beside his, and you distract yourself by fiddling with your purse strap until he slams the lid closed.

“So…” you start after a few seconds. “Are we picking anyone else up?”

“Yugyeom,” Jungkook replies, opening up the driver’s side door and climbing in. Hesitantly, you make your way over to the other side of the car, wondering if there’s any way you can avoid sitting in the passenger seat without looking like a total weirdo.

“Oh! Jungkook’s here already?” Jimin exits the house at last, lugging his suitcase and a smaller backpack. He shoves both into the backseat of your mother’s van before coming over, frowning when he sees you hovering near the trunk. “Why are you just standing there?”

You make a face at him. “We’re waiting for you, dumbass. Who’s riding with you?”

“Tae, Minho, and Taemin,” your brother replies. “Didn’t you see the group chat this morning?”

“I muted it days ago,” you admit. “You guys were annoying as hell.” Then another thought strikes you, your brain belatedly registering the names Jimin listed. “Wait, what about the girls? Aren’t they coming?”

Your brother rolls his eyes. “Jisoo’s working as a camp counselor this summer, and Lisa has other vacation plans. Maybe if you hadn’t muted the chat, you’d have known that.”

He has a point, though you aren’t about to admit that. You’re also wise enough not to inquire about the third member of the trio, remembering Jisoo’s revelation at the party. It’s no surprise that Chaeyoung isn’t joining you for the weekend—you’d want to avoid extended periods of time with your ex-boyfriend too. At the thought, your gaze reluctantly flits back over to the ex in question, who raises an expectant brow when he catches your eye.

“Ready?” he calls out the open window.

No, you want to say. But Jimin has already clambered into the van and slammed the door shut, and Jungkook’s car is blocking the van in the driveway so you suck in a deep breath and slide into the passenger seat beside your dark-haired neighbor.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

Jungkook nods and throws the car into reverse. One hand splays across the wheel while the other comes up to rest on the back of your seat, and your breath hitches when he cranes around to check his blind spots, his face suddenly too close for comfort.

He’s playing with you, you tell yourself firmly, leaning back until your back’s pressed against the door and you can safely breathe again. Chaeyoung. Think about what he did to Chaeyoung.

“Hey, I made a roadtrip mix,” Jungkook pipes up all of a sudden. He grabs his phone from where it’s resting on the dashboard, tapping at the screen until the first strains of a melody filter through the car speakers. “It should last us the whole way.”

You perk up when you recognize the tune. “Oh! I love this song.”

Jungkook watches out of the corner of his eye as you bob your head to the beat, before smiling down at his lap. “Yeah. I know.”

///

Yugyeom lives on the other side of town, in a sprawling, winding neighborhood that sends your brain—and your phone’s GPS—into a complete and total tailspin. “Wait, wait—hang on. I think you missed a turn. You must have.”

Jungkook’s face crumples in confusion as he slows the car to a crawl, drawing a few irritated honks from the cars behind you. “There weren’t any streets back there, though.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, twisting in your seat to get a better look. “The directions said to take a right in… oh, fuck, hang on. We’re not even on a digitized road anymore, apparently.”

Jungkook heaves a sigh, but when you glance up at him, he’s wearing a grin. “Come on, Noona. You’re supposed to be my navigator. I’m depending on you.”

“I only know how to get us to the lake house, not Yugyeom’s,” you sniff defensively. “This is way beyond my pay grade.”

Jungkook chortles and reaches out, extending an open palm. “Can I see your phone for a sec?” You nod, handing it over, and he clicks his tongue as he turns it upside-down—rotating it a full three hundred and sixty degrees before returning it. “We might be lost,” he declares.

“Gee, you don’t say.”

He chuckles again. Picking up his own phone, he swipes a thumb across the screen before handing the unlocked device over. “Here, call Yugyeom. Put him on speaker, yeah?”

You hum in acknowledgement and scroll down in his contacts until you find the other boy’s name, clicking it open. A photo fills the screen as it rings—clearly a group photo from the way it’s cropped, zoomed in on Yugyeom and the ridiculous face he’s making.

“Is this from graduation?” you ask curiously.

Jungkook blinks and tears his gaze away from the windshield. “Huh?”

“Yugyeom’s contact photo,” you clarify, tilting the phone screen so he can see. “He’s got robes on.”

“Oh.” He looks away again, cheeks flushing. “Yeah. It’s lame, I know.”

You shake your head. “Don’t say that. I think it’s nice.”

Jungkook doesn’t get a chance to respond, but it’s impossible to miss the grin that crinkles his face and settles there. There’s a staticky hum as the line connects, and then Yugyeom’s voice is filling the vehicle, sounding as if he’s just rolled out of bed.

“Whaddaya want?”

“We can’t find your fucking house, man,” Jungkook says bluntly, turning onto a street that you’ve driven down at least three times by this point. “Where do you live?”

On the other end of the line, Yugyeom sighs. “Okay, okay. What street are you guys on?”

That gives Jungkook pause. “Uhh, Cedar Street? Oak Avenue? It has a tree name.”

“Neither of those streets exist, dude.”

“Birch Boulevard!” you exclaim. “We’re on Birch Boulevard. I saw the sign a while back.”

“Ah, okay. You’re close, then. Do you see a sign for Linden Lane?”

You glance around until you alight on a signpost. “Yeah.”

“Turn right onto it. Then take the first left, go past the cul-de-sac, and another left. Do not pass Go, and do not collect two-hundred dollars. I’m the fifth house on the right.”

He ends the call before you can ask him to repeat the directions, and you send Jungkook a helpless look. “Did you get all of that?”

“Besides the overused Monopoly joke?” Jungkook asks.. “Yeah, I got it. Right, left, left. Fifth house. Shouldn’t take more than a few minutes to get there.”

And true to his word, you arrive at the house three minutes later. Yugyeom is standing on the front step with rumpled hair and a duffel bag at his feet, and you snort when he throws open the car door and flops across the entirety of the backseat.

“Rough morning?”

“Stayed up late packing,” he says by way of explanation, his eyes already beginning to drift shut. Jungkook immediately turns the music up, and you giggle when Yugyeom shoots upright at the bassline that’s now shaking the entire vehicle. “I’m up, I’m up! Jeez, man.”

Jungkook just sends him an innocent grin in the rearview mirror. You turn the volume back down to a reasonable level as Yugyeom directs Jungkook onto the best route to take out of the neighborhood, and it isn’t long before you’re merging onto the highway that leads toward the coast.

You’re just beginning to get comfortable, staring out the window at the passing cityscape, when your leg vibrates with an incoming text notification. Glancing down, you see that Jungkook’s phone has slipped between your thigh and the seat, the screen lit with a new message.

[10:21am] Minho: gonna be at the store in 10

“Minho says they’ll be at the grocery store in ten minutes,” you relay to your companions. “We have a little longer to go. Probably another half hour or so.”

“We wouldn’t be so far behind if Yugyeom didn’t live in a fucking labyrinth,” Jungkook remarks, but a glance at the young man in the backseat reveals that he’s drifted off despite your earlier stunt. Rolling his eyes, he turns to you. “Can you text him back, Noona?”

You nod and hold out his phone so he can unlock it with his thumb. “Hey,” you say once you’ve hit send on the message. “Do you have a contact photo for me?”

Jungkook stiffens slightly, his gaze skittering between you and the road. “Oh. Uh, yeah, I guess I do. But it’s nothing, really. It’s kinda lame. But you… you can look at it if you want.”

Curiosity piqued, you scroll down until you find your name, tapping on the image beside it. The photo is from several years ago, during a family trip to the lake house with the Jeons. You are no older than fifteen, your arm slung around a fourteen-year-old Jungkook as the two of you stand knee-deep in the lake, wearing swimsuits and bright smiles. In the background, you can just barely make out a blurry Jimin mid-splash.

“I remember this,” you murmur, zooming in on your smiling faces. “That was a fun summer.”

“Junghyun was grumpy the whole time,” Jungkook recalls with a laugh. “But we had a good time, didn’t we? We practically lived in the lake that entire week.”

“Or that old canoe.” You grin, taking one last look at the photo before locking his phone and handing it back to him. “Remember? We’d always row out too far, and our parents would scream for us to come back before we fell in and drowned.”

Jungkook snickers. “As if I’d ever let you drown. I’m a great swimmer.”

“Are you saying I’m not?”

He backpedals immediately, realizing his mistake. “Hey, don’t twist my words. I said nothing of the sort.”

“That’s what I thought.” Giggling, you turn to look out the window, propping your chin in your palm as you watch the scenery flash past. “And I want that photo, by the way. Send it to me?”

“As soon as we get to the store,” Jungkook promises. “Speaking of which, we’re getting close. Keep an eye out for the exit for me?”

“Deal.”

///

Jimin and the others are waiting in the parking lot when you arrive, perched on and around the van as they watch Jungkook expertly maneuver the car into a neighboring parking space. “Took you long enough,” your brother says once the engine is cut, hopping off the hood and landing lightly on both feet.

“We’re here now, aren’t we?” you snark as you join the others hovering near the grocery store entrance. Jimin makes a face at you, and you stick your tongue out in response. After a quick huddle—wherein you form a very haphazard game plan—everyone disperses. Jimin grabs a shopping cart and heads inside with Taehyung and Minho, the latter of whom is trying to clamber his way into the cart to hitch a ride.

Sighing, you grab a shopping cart of your own and scan the interior of the store for the produce section. They’ve rearranged the aisles since you were last here, but you quickly find what you’re looking for and begin picking your way over when Jungkook materializes at your side.

“So, what are you thinking for food?” he asks, nudging you away so he can push the cart in your stead.

You allow him to take over, gesturing toward your destination. “I know my brother,” you tell him dryly. “He’s going to buy meat and completely forget about everything else. And I don’t trust any of you to buy a single fruit or vegetable.”

“I like fruit and vegetables,” Jungkook defends.

“You like everything,” you correct, flashing him a teasing grin before leading him into the produce section.

Grocery shopping with Jungkook turns out to be surprisingly pleasant—comfortable, even. He proves adept at finding the ripest fruits and greenest vegetables, and when you ask him to find some apples, he trots off immediately and returns with a handful of sweet potatoes in addition to your requested fruit.

You raise an eyebrow. “What are you planning to do with those?”

Jungkook feigns offense, slapping a hand to his heart. “That’s cold, Noona. Don’t you think I can cook?”

“I’ve never seen you cook in my life,” you respond. “How am I supposed to know if you can or not?”

“I can,” he promises. “And I’ll prove it too, if you let me.”

You get the feeling he’s not just talking about cooking anymore, but he doesn’t give you a chance to answer. Dropping the apples and potatoes into the cart, he flashes you a crooked little smile before turning toward a display of cabbages, leaving you to wonder at what exactly is going through his head.

///

It’s nearly one in the afternoon when you arrive at your family’s lake house. The last stretch of the drive takes you through the forest along a winding, narrow road, but Jungkook is a capable driver and you know the way well enough to warn him about any upcoming hairpin turns. Piling out of the car, the three of you make quick work of putting the food safely into the refrigerator. By the time you’re finished, Jimin and the others have arrived as well, lugging their belongings inside and setting them inside the entryway.

“So who’s sleeping where?” Taehyung asks, glancing around the house. It’s modestly sized, with a living area on one side and a combined dining room and kitchen on the other. Three bedrooms and a bathroom branch off of the hallway between them, ending in a back door that leads out to the lake. Through the window, you can see the water glimmering in the sunlight, hazy and golden.

“We’ll have to share,” Jimin says. “ If Noona takes one room, that leaves two bedrooms and the pullout couch for the rest of us.”

Jungkook tilts his head. “Rock, paper, scissors?” he suggests, drawing a chorus of groans.

“I always lose!” Jimin complains. “And Taemin cheats!”

“Do not!”

Laughing at the indignant expression on your brother’s face, you decide to leave them to it and head to your bedroom with your luggage in tow. The room is just as you remember it, with a bed tucked against one wall and a dresser on the opposite. There are three doors in total—one that you just entered through, and another that opens into a small closet. The third leads to a bathroom—shared with the bedroom on the other side of the wall that usually belongs to Jimin. Vaguely, you wonder who will be sleeping there tonight, before setting your suitcase on the bed and unzipping it.

“Fuck!”

You jump at the sudden shout, poking your head out into the hallway to see what’s causing all the commotion. Yugyeom is kneeling on the floor with his head down, a crestfallen Taemin standing beside him. Meanwhile, Taehyung and Minho look supremely pleased with themselves, and you see why when they grab their bags and practically skip to the master bedroom across the hall, collapsing onto the king-sized bed.

“Have fun on the couch, losers!” Jimin singsongs, grabbing Jungkook by the wrist and dragging him into their newly won bedroom on your side of the hallway. “Lake in fifteen minutes, so get changed! Last one there’s in charge of dinner!”

The door slams shut behind him, and you roll your eyes before turning back to your opened suitcase and pulling out a book. There’s a perfectly shaded spot beneath one of the trees along the water, and you fully intend to capitalize on the last few hours of daylight before the sun begins to set.

Minho is the only one outside when you exit the house, standing on the dock in a pair of green swim trunks. He waves at you cheerily before cannonballing into the lake, and you squeak as the resulting splash sends water splattering across the front of your shirt.

“Sorry!” he calls when he resurfaces, shaking his hair out like a wet dog.

You wave off his apology with a laugh, settling down onto the soft grass at the base of your chosen tree and opening up your book. The other boys trickle out of the house one by one, but you barely notice. It isn’t until a triumphant shout pierces the air that you finally glance up to see what’s causing all the commotion, your gaze immediately landing on Taehyung standing on the back steps of the house.

“Trust me,” he says, unbothered by his apparent tardiness. “You don’t want me to make dinner.”

Minho pulls a face and straightens up from where he’d been floating on his back. “You know, he kinda has a point there.”

Murmurs of agreement all around. Taehyung gives Jimin a smug smile, who scowls from where he’s sitting at the end of the dock, his bare feet dangling over the edge. “So what now? Do we have to play rock, paper, scissors again?”

“Nah, I’ll do it.”

Every head whips around to face Jungkook, yours included. He’s standing a short ways from where you’re sitting—his approach so quiet that you hadn’t even heard him arrive. The last time you checked, he’d been diving off the dock with Minho and Yugyeom, water pooling in his collarbones and dripping down the ridges of his taut abdomen each time he resurfaced.

Not that you’d been looking, of course.

“Really?” Jimin looks aghast at his best friend’s declaration. “You can cook?”

Jungkook scoffs in disbelief and plops down beside you, leaning back against the tree trunk. “Why does everyone in your family seem surprised by that?” he asks, his lip jutting out in a petulant frown. “Do I seem like someone who can’t cook?”

“Yes,” you tell him honestly, marking your page and letting the book fall shut. “Don’t take it personally, though. Men only learn how to cook in college when they have to start fending for themselves. And sometimes, not even then.”

The noise that leaves Jungkook’s mouth can best be described as disgruntled, but he doesn’t press any further. Instead, he peers over your shoulder to get a look at the cover of your book, mouthing the title to himself before glancing at you. “Haven’t I seen you reading this before?”

“Probably,” you admit. “It’s an old favorite.”

He hums, slouching back against the tree again, and when you look over, you see that both his eyes have fallen shut. With his mouth parted and his dark lashes resting on his cheeks, he looks years younger than he is—and so much more like the Jungkook you used to know.

“Tired?” you whisper.

“Long drive,” Jungkook whispers back, his head already beginning to loll. “Lemme sleep, Noona.”

Smiling to yourself, you return to your book and leave him to rest.

///

“So, what are you even planning to make?” Jimin asks, swinging his legs. He’s seated atop the kitchen counter, taking up the majority of what precious little space there is to begin with, and Jungkook sighs deeply as he’s forced to dodge around him yet again to peer into the refrigerator.

“You’ll see.”

“I don’t think you even know yet,” Taemin pipes up from the doorway. The other boys are in the living room playing Mario Kart, but Taemin and Jimin have selflessly pulled themselves away from the game to help their friend in the kitchen—or so they say. As far as you’re concerned, they’ve been nothing but a nuisance thus far, but you don’t voice that particular thought aloud.

“Ramen doesn’t count as making dinner,” Jimin points out snidely when Jungkook pauses too long next to the box of ramen packs. “Anyone can boil water. And you don’t get to add an egg and call it fancy, like you usually do.”

“My ramen is delicious, excuse you,” Jungkook retorts, pointing a spatula at him. “And that’s not even what I’m making, so fuck off.”

Jimin shrugs, but shuts his mouth nonetheless. You take the opportunity to throw some pork belly at him, the meat wrapped neatly in paper and tied off with twine. “Here,” you tell him. “You could at least make yourself useful and start grilling the meat.”

“Okay, mom,” your brother grumbles under his breath, hopping off the counter. He and Taemin head out to the back porch where the grill sits, and you join Jungkook at the stove where he’s staring thoughtfully at an empty pan.

“Try twisting the dial. I’ve heard that helps.”

Jungkook snaps out of his daze and turns to you. “Huh?”

“The stove. It won’t light itself, you know.”

Chuckling, Jungkook twists the dial as instructed, adding a drizzle of oil to the pan. As it heats up, he turns and selects a knife from the cutlery drawer. The sweet potatoes he’d insisted on purchasing are already washed and peeled, and you watch as he begins to slice them, your gaze automatically flitting down to his exposed forearms, his muscles flexing with every movement.

“Hey, Noona? Can you do me a favor?”

You blink, tearing your gaze from the branching veins lining his arms. “What?”

Jungkook, thankfully, doesn’t seem to notice your distracted state. “Can you put the rice in the microwave?” he asks, and you can’t help but giggle.

“Why?” you tease. “Are you still scared?”

“Of course not,” he retorts, but you don’t miss the wary look that flashes across his face when you plop the rice inside and go to punch in the cook time.

The remainder of the cooking goes smoothly. Jimin and Taemin return with the grilled meat, and Jungkook rebuffs your offer to set the table, leaving his position at the stove to lay plates and utensils down on the table himself. “I’m just about done, anyway,” he tells you, gesturing at the plate of glazed sweet potatoes on the counter. “Sit down and relax, Noona.”

“Fine,” you relent, taking a seat. Jimin takes the chair beside you, and Taemin plops down on his other side. Jungkook sits down just to your left once he’s finished laying out the food, and for a brief, insane moment, you almost think that he’s going to repeat what he’d done at his graduation dinner. But the dark-haired young man remains on his best behavior, keeping his hands to himself under the table, and you aren’t sure whether you’re grateful or disappointed.

The meal flies by in a flurry of laughter and conversation. Jungkook discovers that his glazed sweet potatoes have adhered to the plate, and sends everyone into hysterics when he promptly starts spinning it around like a steering wheel.

It’s a good night. And at the end of it, you go to bed warm and content, with a belly full of food and a smile on your face.

///

You awaken to the sound of chirping songbirds and gentle waves lapping at the shore the next morning, thoroughly rejuvenated after an undisturbed night’s sleep. Stretching your arms overhead, you yawn and bask in the comfort of your bed for a few more moments before getting up and heading to the bathroom, thankful that you don’t have to fight anyone for sink occupancy. The toilet seat is even down, which comes as a welcome surprise, all things considered.

Before long, you are back in your bedroom, rifling through the contents of your suitcase. Belatedly, you realize that you’ve packed only one swimsuit—and a bikini, at that. Cheeks warming, you pull the two pieces out, holding them up against your body. Has it always been this small? You don’t remember. All you know is that Jungkook has two fully functional eyes, and there’s no way that he won’t be looking at every inch of skin you choose to expose.

In the end, you settle on wearing the bikini beneath a flowy, floral kimono-style robe, tied at the waist to form a makeshift dress. The ensemble reaches just past your knees and is sheer enough to still show skin, but you no longer feel as self-conscious going out into the view of your companions and that’s a victory as far as you’re concerned. Checking your reflection one last time, you adjust your sash before opening the bedroom door and heading down the hall for some breakfast.

Unsurprisingly, the kitchen is empty when you walk in, tiptoeing past a still slumbering Taemin and Yugyeom on the pullout couch. You savor the quiet as you start up the old coffeemaker, pulling a mug from the cabinet and rinsing it out to get rid of any lingering dust. The weather app on your phone promises that it’ll be a clear, cloudless day, and a glance out the window confirms it. Silently, you debate whether or not to crack a window.

Your musings are interrupted by the arrival of Taehyung, his brown hair sticking up at all angles. Blearily, he trundles to the fridge and grabs the orange juice, seemingly two seconds away from chugging it straight from the carton before you clear your throat and push a clean glass toward him. You think you hear him mumble a thank you.

As the morning wears on, the others slowly begin to trickle in. Breakfast is a disorganized affair that leaves bread crumbs all over the counter, and nearly causes a fight when everyone seems to want their eggs cooked a different way.

“Look, if you wanted your egg soft-boiled, you should’ve made it yourself!” Jimin grouches to Taehyung, the t-shirt over his head muffling his words. Everyone else is already in the water, splashing about, but you’re seated on the end of the dock with your brother and Taehyung, who looks thoroughly unfazed behind his tinted sunglasses.

“Maybe if I knew how to soft boil an egg, I would have.”

“Google exists,” Jimin says, finally freeing himself from the shirt and tossing it aside.

Taehyung nods sagely. “Exactly. So why didn’t you use it?”

Jimin is beginning to look positively murderous, so when Minho swims over and taps your submerged ankle, you are beyond grateful for the distraction. “Hey. What’s up?”

“Are you gonna swim, or are you gonna sit onshore the whole time?” Minho asks, raking his wet bangs out of his eyes. “The water’s not even cold, so get in here.”

Pointedly, you wiggle your toes. “Feels pretty cold to me.”

“Okay, fine. It’s cold.” Minho grins. “But you get used to it.”

You sigh at his easy admission. “All men do is lie. How am I supposed to believe you?”

He raises a brow. “Do I need to pull you in and dunk you under?”

“I will kick you if you even try,” you tell him, standing up and shrugging off your robe. An audible hush falls as the gauzy material pools around your ankles—Jungkook stops wrestling with Yugyeom and trying to dunk him underwater, and Taemin pauses mid-splash, his hair drenched and dripping.

It’s Minho who breaks the silence first, letting loose a low whistle of appreciation. “Damn, {Name}.”

Jimin grabs a shoe from the pile on the dock and chucks it at him, hard. “Dude, that’s my fucking sister!”

“Ow! What the fuck, man, that’s my shoe!”

“Quit ogling my sister!”

“I’m not!” Minho yells, just as Jimin chucks the other shoe and hits him square in the mouth. “Okay, I’m not anymore. Sorry, okay?”

Once he’s sufficiently sure that Jimin is done attacking him, Minho turns to you. “I’m sorry,” he says sincerely. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything. You know that, right?”

“I know,” you reassure him. “Honestly, it was kinda good for my self-esteem. And I don’t need you defending my honor, or whatever it is you think you’re doing,” you add, glancing over at your disgruntled brother.

“Men are pigs,” Jimin sniffs. “I won’t apologize.”

You ruffle his hair good-naturedly. “I know, Chim. You’re right.” Then your smile turns mischievous. “I won’t apologize for what I’m about to do, either.”

And then you grab him by the arm and drag him into the lake, the cold water submerging you in an instant and stealing the breath out of your lungs. You’re both gasping by the time you resurface, blinking water out of your eyes, and you squeal when Jimin takes the opportunity to splash you again.

Hours pass—the sun rising higher overhead. Around noon, Taehyung disappears inside the house and returns with an assortment of snacks and sandwich fixings, ushering everyone over for an impromptu lunch on the dock. You dip your feet into the water as you munch on a bag of chips, and Jungkook plops down beside you with a juice box in one hand and a ham sandwich in the other.

“Wanna go for a ride in the canoe after lunch?” he asks, jabbing a thumb back in the direction of the house. “I found it in the garage.”

You laugh. “Really? I thought for sure we got rid of that thing. Are you sure it hasn’t sprung a leak?”

Jungkook’s face crinkles into a grin. “Guess we’ll have to wait and see, huh?”

You grin back and raise your cup, the lemonade inside swishing around. “I’ll hang on to this, just in case I need to start bailing water out.”

Lunchtime winds down gradually. Jungkook polishes off his sandwich and trots off to fetch the canoe, waving off your offers to help before disappearing around the corner of the house. You watch him return a few minutes later from your seat on the end of the dock, resting your weight back on your hands and swirling your pruney toes in the water. He’s stripped off the loose white tee he’d donned during lunch, his golden skin cast in shadow by the canoe perched across his bare shoulders, and your gaze trails from his bulging biceps down to the ridges of his abdomen. The muscles flex with every step he takes, and you hastily take another sip of lemonade in an effort to combat the sudden dryness in your throat.

With a grunt, Jungkook comes to a stop at your elbow, heaving the boat into the water. The impact sends ripples across the lake and the butterflies in your belly into a frenzy, and you nearly fall off the dock when Jungkook touches your shoulder gently.

“Ready to go, Noona?”

You nod, not quite trusting yourself to speak. Jungkook holds the boat steady with one hand while offering you the other, and you gratefully grasp it as you step off the dock. The canoe rocks dangerously when Jungkook clambers in after you, but quickly steadies when he picks up an oar and jabs at the dock to push off into the lake. The glimmering expanse of blue water stretches before you, and you relax as you let your fingers dangle off the side of the boat, watching ripples form beneath your fingertips.

“I can help row,” you say after a few moments, casting a glance over at Jungkook. He’s settled into a rhythm now, the veins and tendons in his arm flexing with each movement, and you’re suddenly very aware of how close he’s sitting.

“You—” Jungkook says, fixing you with a playful stare, “—just enjoy the ride, yeah?”

Shaking your head, you smile and turn back around to admire the view. Sunlight reflects off the rippling water, lending a golden iridescence to the glittering blue depths. In the distance, the opposite shoreline rises up, crowned with rocky outcrops and majestic dark green pines.

With a start, you realize how far away you’ve gotten from the other boys. The shouts and laughter from the house are quickly fading into the background, and you nervously turn to look at Jungkook as he rows you even further.

“God, my dad would freak if he saw us right now,” you remark, trying to diffuse the sudden tension that’s settled. “I mean, we don’t even have life jackets. He’d lose his mind.”

Jungkook hums. He stops rowing, his hands stilling on the oars, and you’re just about to ask him what’s wrong when a warm hand glides up your thigh.

“You think you could maybe stop talking about your dad, princess?” Then he smirks. “Unless you’re into the whole daddy kink thing, because I’d be down to explore that at some point if you want—“

“Jungkook!” you hiss, scandalized.

“Yes?” the young man in question hums, his face the picture of innocence. It’s hard to muster up your vocabulary when he’s looking up at you with those wide doe eyes, but you somehow manage to prevail over your malfunctioning brain.

“We’re in public!” you whisper, glancing back at the shore where your brother and his friends have started an impromptu game of water polo.

Jungkook smirks crookedly at you. “Guess you better not scream too loud, then.”

And then, before you can open your mouth to protest—before you can even try to call his bluff—he’s slipped his hand into your bikini bottoms and found his way to your clit. Your entire body spasms when he presses into it experimentally, and the resulting snicker that escapes him is nothing short of infuriating.

“Careful,” he coos, laying his free hand on your thigh, his thumb rubbing nonsensical circles into the soft skin. “Don’t wanna rock the boat, now.”

Then he returns his attention to your clit, pinching the nub just to watch you jolt in his grasp and soothing you with a gentle kiss to the knee afterward. Your skin warms beneath the plush of his lips, and the pleased smile that curves them is all the warning you get before he sheathes a single finger in your clenching core. “Jungkook—” you gasp, shoving uselessly at his bare shoulders, but you can’t keep the edge of desire out of your voice. You can’t hide the growing wetness between your legs either—wetness that he most certainly feels as he slips another finger inside, pumping into you with ease.

“God, look at you,” he murmurs, his eyes trained on the way you clench around him. “So pretty like this. So pretty, getting fucked by my fingers. I could do this all day.”

“We—we don’t have all day,” you whisper. The last syllable dissolves into a moan as Jungkook eases a third finger into your cunt, and you scrabble to ground yourself when he picks up his leisurely pace. One hand settles on the edge of the boat, your fingernails digging into the wood, while the other finds Jungkook’s bicep. His arm flexes beneath your grip with each snap of his wrist, and you keen when he crooks his fingers just right and sends stars skittering across your vision.

He knows that you’re getting close. You can tell from the growing furrow between his brows and the hard set of his jaw, and you can tell that he won’t stop until he gets you off. Concentration etches across his face, and you gasp when his thumb finds your clit again.

“Oh, fuck, Jungkook—”

“That’s it,” he rasps, digging deeper and thumbing roughly across your bundle of nerves. “Cum for me.”

And you do. With one final flick of his wrist, Jungkook sends you hurtling over the edge that he’s so effortlessly built, a cresting wave of pleasure overtaking your body and spreading through your veins. Your leg kicks out instinctively, rocking the canoe dangerously in the water, but Jungkook catches you by the ankle with his free hand and presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh. He shifts his weight until you’re steadied once more, and only then does he ease his fingers out of you, raising them to his mouth to lick them clean.

“Think we can sneak away so I can fuck you properly?” he asks.

Your cheeks heat up at the lewd display, warming even more when his words register in your muddled brain. “Oh my god, Jungkook.”

“That’s exactly what you’ll be saying when I really get my hands on you,” Jungkook agrees. Flashing you a mischievous grin, he drops his hand over the edge of the boat, letting the turquoise water wash away any lingering fluids. “What do you think? The backseat of my car isn’t half bad…”

“I will literally push you into this lake,” you tell him, trying and failing to hide a disbelieving laugh. “Why are you such a perv?”

“You like it,” Jungkook defends immediately. “‘Sides,” he adds, casting a wary glance at the shore where Jimin and the others are still fully engrossed in their game, “I wanna kiss you while I fuck you. It’s not as good like this.”

At that, something dangerously close to affection blooms in your belly, winding its curious tendrils around your heart. Swallowing the feeling down, you pick up one of the oars instead, handing it over to him before hefting the other. “Come on,” you murmur. “They’re gonna get suspicious if we’re gone too long.”

Jungkook hums. “Yeah. Probably.”

And then he raises the oar you just handed him, lifting it until the paddle covers both of your faces, and boldly plants a firm kiss on your mouth.

“I’ll row us back,” he declares casually when he pulls away, as if he hasn’t just stolen all the oxygen from your lungs. As if your lips aren’t burning where he’s kissed you, your cheeks hot beneath his gentle exhalations. As if you aren’t positively thrumming with the desire to pull him back in, and maybe take him up on his offer to fuck you in the backseat of his beat-up sedan.

“Yeah,” you say instead, your voice hoarse. “Let’s go.”

///

What few remaining hours of daylight you have, you decide to spend inside. Jungkook gets roped into the water polo match as soon as the two of you return to shore, and you take the opportunity to slip into the house and clean yourself up. Safely locked away in the bathroom, you strip off your damp bikini bottoms and toss them in the sink. The top follows, and you give both a quick wash, doing your best to ignore the remaining slick from your orgasm that stubbornly coats the material.

Once everything is washed and hanging up to dry, you step into the shower. Warm water soaks your hair and slides down your back, and you tilt your head back to let the spray wash your worries away, relishing in the rare moment of peace and quiet.

By the time you’ve toweled off and gotten dressed, you can hear the boys beginning to traipse back into the house. From what you can make out, they’re making dinner plans, and you poke your head out curiously when Jimin mentions you by name.

“What are you saying about me?” you ask, narrowing your eyes accusingly at your brother.

Jimin whirls around, his cherubic face a perfect picture of innocence. “Nothing! I was just talking about your fried rice and how good it is…”

“You’re trying to get me to make you dinner,” you sigh. “I knew it.”

“No, we’ll help!” your brother promises. “I swear, as soon as I get out of the shower, I’ll chop all the vegetables.”

“Sure you will,” you snort, brushing past him and heading for the kitchen.

Much to your surprise, the kitchen is already occupied when you arrive. Jungkook and Yugyeom are at the counter—the former poised with a knife at the ready, about to slice into an onion. The latter is digging through the cabinets, and both turn at the sound of your footsteps.

“Hey,” Yugyeom says. “You probably know where the bottle opener is, right?”

You nod. “Left of the sink, second drawer down.” Then you turn your attention to Jungkook, peering curiously over his shoulder. “What’s the onion for?”

“Dinner,” he replies, flashing you a crooked little smile. “We’re making fried rice, aren’t we?”

Your heart skips a beat in your chest and races to catch up, thumping erratically against your ribcage. It’s hard to ignore the warmth blossoming in your belly—near impossible to ignore the butterflies that have made a home there—but you somehow manage to school your expression into something passably neutral and busy yourself with the other vegetables on the counter. “I see Jimin got to you, too. Is the other cutting board clean?”

Jungkook nods, jabbing a thumb in the direction of the dish rack. “Washed it last night, yeah. It’s all yours, Noona.”

You hum and skirt around Yugyeom to grab the clean board and another knife. Chopping vegetables goes a lot faster with two people, and Yugyeom does his part by cracking open two bottles of beer and plunking one down next to each of you before opening a third for himself. “Hydrate,” he orders, and you roll your eyes before picking it up and taking a sip.

It doesn’t take long to finish making dinner. As promised, Jimin joins you as soon as he’s out of the shower, plucking the knife out of your hand and nudging you aside so he can finish cutting the vegetables. You fire up the stove and drizzle some oil into a pan, and smile when Taehyung brings you the container of leftover rice and a large serving bowl.

“You know what we should do?” Minho asks as you’re all sitting down to eat. Yugyeom’s opened more beers, and Jimin’s brought out the wine as well. Jungkook is spooning out fried rice for everyone, and you accept the bowl he hands you with a murmur of thanks before looking at Minho expectantly.

“What should we do?”

“Go to the beach,” he replies, tilting the remainder of his beer back into his mouth. “It’s only an hour away, isn’t it?”

“Closer to half an hour without traffic,” Jimin corrects. “But, yeah, we should go. That would be fun.”

By the time dinner is finished, you’ve finalized plans to drive down to the beach in the morning. “Remember, we’re leaving at ten,” you tell Jimin, elbowing him in the ribs. “That means you have to wake up before ten.”

“I know!” your brother whines, rubbing the spot where you elbowed him with a grimace. “Jeez, Noona. I’m good at waking up. It’s Jungkook and Tae you have to worry about.”

“Says the punk who takes hour-long showers,” you snark. “What are you gonna do when you have to pay your own water bills, huh?”

“Shower at your place,” he replies smugly. “You can’t turn me away. I’m your brother.”

“Please, that’s exactly why I can turn you away, you little mooch.”

“You love me!”

“Really? You wanna test that theory?”

The remainder of the evening passes in a blur of booze and board games, unearthed from the closet in the hall. Despite your collective agreement to go to bed early, it’s past midnight when you finally bid everyone goodnight and crawl underneath your covers. Shutting your eyes, you will your brain to settle and your limbs to relax, and you’re on the verge of drifting off when your phone suddenly buzzes. Lazily, you roll over and snatch the device off the nightstand, taking in the late hour before your eyes flit down to the new notification and go wide.

[1:02am] Jungkook: IMG_497

You freeze, thumb hovering just above the message. Even when your screen goes dark again, you can’t erase the sight of his name lighting up your phone, the attachment sitting there like a taunt. You shouldn’t open it. You can’t open it.

But curiosity gnaws at your belly, fraying the edges of your resolve. Slowly, you wake the screen, watching as Jungkook’s name fills it once more. You hesitate, bottom lip finding its way between your teeth.

And then your phone buzzes again, several times in quick succession.

[1:04am] Jungkook: i miss you, noona

[1:04am] Jungkook: miss your pretty face

[1:04am] Jungkook: miss how tight your pussy felt around my fingers

You drop the device as if scorched. It takes several moments to gather your wits again, but when you do, pick up your phone, clicking on his name and scrolling up to the attachment. In the darkness of your bedroom, you watch with bated breath as it downloads.

“Fuck.”

The expletive slips past your lips, unbidden, but you can’t help it. Jungkook stares out at you from the photograph illuminating your screen, his eyes hooded and his lips curled into a devious smirk. He’s in the shared bathroom between your bedrooms, and even though it’s dark inside, the flash of his camera is just enough to illuminate the distinctive palm tree patterned shower curtain behind him.

But, you aren’t focused on that.

No, your focus is zeroed in on the foreground of the photo, where you can perfectly make out the head of Jungkook’s cock, sticky and leaking copiously from between his fingers.

“Fuck,” you repeat, louder this time.

And as if reading your mind, another text flashes onto your screen.

[1:07am] Jungkook: wish your pretty little pussy was stretched around my cock right now, princess

You aren’t sure what possesses you to send the response you do, but your thumbs are moving before the more rational side of your brain can catch up and stop you.

[1:07am] You: why don’t you come over and make it happen then?

You’ve only just hit send when the bathroom door swings open, revealing Jungkook standing there in nothing but sweatpants. His face is illuminated in the stark white light shining from his screen, his eyes dark and his smirk even darker. Every movement drips with intent, from the way his lips quirk upward to the way he saunters over to join you on your bed, dropping his phone somewhere amongst the rumpled sheets. The room goes dark.

And then…

“Hey, princess.”

His lips are at your ear, hot breath caressing your cheeks and sending shivers down the length of your spine. The mattress dips beneath his weight as he joins you, a hand finding your bare thigh before sliding up to grasp your hip. Only an oversized t-shirt and a thin pair of cotton panties shield you from his roving fingers, and you can tell from the pleased curve of his mouth that he isn’t going to let either stand in his way. One hand slips beneath the hem of your shirt, dancing along your ribcage, and you let out a breathy gasp when he trails up and skims along the soft skin just below the swell of your breasts.

“Been thinking about you all night, you know,” Jungkook whispers, pushing up your shirt and peppering kisses along every inch of newly revealed flesh. “Been thinking about how pretty you looked, cumming around my fingers, and how much prettier you’d look cumming around my cock.”

Your shirt is long forgotten by this point, tugged overhead and thrown carelessly over his shoulder. Jungkook hauls you closer, slotting himself between your spread legs, and you shiver when he presses the pad of his thumb against your clothed clit, the material uncomfortably damp as it clings to your folds.

“Jungkook—” His name escapes you in an airy whisper. “Please.”

Even in the darkness, you can see the satisfied, self-assured tilt of his lips. “Such a good girl for me,” he croons, leaning down to press a kiss to your waiting mouth. His free hand comes up to cup your cheek while the other remains between your legs, and you gasp sharply when he digs his thumb a little harder against your clit, circling the sensitive bud.

Jungkook seizes upon the opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips, licking into your mouth with unrestrained ardor. Your panties are peeled away, the cottony material disappearing right alongside the pressure of his thumb, and the inadvertent whine that escapes you has him chuckling darkly in his throat.

“What is it, princess?” Jungkook rasps, his voice dipping several pitches. “You have to tell me what you want, remember?”

You clutch at his wrist weakly, tugging it back between your legs until he finally indulges you and resumes his lazy revolutions around your clit. “Want you,” you whisper. “Want you inside me.”

Jungkook lets out a pleased hum, rewarding you with a single finger that he slips into your sopping entrance, your juices aiding the smooth glide as he curls it up in search of the spot that’ll have you seeing stars. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“No, it wasn’t,” you agree shakily. “But it looks like you are, so why don’t you let me help you out?”

Jungkook chuckles softly, his lips ghosting across the swell of your cheek. “Oh, yeah? And how exactly do you plan on helping me?”

Slowly, you reach down, letting your fingers graze the sizable bulge in his sweatpants. “You said it yourself, didn’t you? Me, stretched around your cock?”

A low groan escapes him when you give him a firm stroke, your fingers barely meeting around his length. “On your back,” he commands hoarsely, nudging you backward until you’re nestled into your pillows. Freeing his erection from the confines of his sweatpants, he settles comfortably between your spread legs, the mattress groaning in protest at the shift in weight.

“Wait,” you whisper, grabbing his wrist. “Did you hear that?”

His face scrunches in confusion. “Hear what?” he asks, as if he’s never heard that particular string of words before. “Are you sure it wasn’t just—”

He stops mid-sentence, and you both hear it again—the unmistakable creaking of bedsprings from next door. “Shit!” you hiss, scrambling back on the mattress until you’re nearly pressed against the headboard. “Oh, god. That’s Jimin. He’s going to kill you if he finds you in here—”

On the other side of the wall, the door to the shared bathroom opens, the light flickering on and illuminating the crack beneath your door. You hear your brother cursing sleepily under his breath as the toilet lid clatters open, and nearly shove Jungkook off the bed in your haste to get him out of your room.

“You have to go,” you whisper frantically, herding him toward the door that leads out into the hall.

Jungkook hurriedly pulls his pants back over his hips, and you can practically see him willing his erection to go away. “What am I supposed to say if he asks?”

“I don’t know! Pretend you were going for a glass of water or something!”

With a final push, you shove him out of your bedroom, leaning against the door with a relieved sigh when it clicks shut behind him. You hear Jungkook shuffle off just as Jimin flushes, and cast a prayer up to any deities that may exist as you listen to him wash his hands. And it seems your prayers are answered, as quiet descends over the house once more. Off in the distance, you think you hear Minho snoring.

Letting out another sigh, you return to bed, crawling beneath the covers and getting comfortable. And when sleep finally takes you, you dream of Jeon Jungkook.

[aerinthefish]

Dating site/famous! Race au part 3!

part 1

part 2

A week later, Race is recording a tiktok of him dancing in Medda’s studio

(he likes to dance to get his energy out and to express himself w/o words. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t but his ADHD is the reason he's such a good dancer—it made him put too many hours in)

(He also loves it and has been dancing since he was a kid, when he played Clara in his ballet school’s Nutcracker)

Anyway Spot comes in in the corner of the frame and sets a glass of water on the table and waves to Race facing the mirror

Race grins at him and finishes his dance—just some old choreography he likes to redo every few years to show he’s improved

He posts it, not even thinking about spot’s cameo because who cares if his boyfriend gives him a glass of water

Everyone cares actually

There are thousands of proposed answers as to why Spot is there but it’s actually so Spot can meet Medda, which would seem like the most obvious answer

Unfortunately race has seen at least three different sources claiming he’s eloping with Spot

Others say Race is now living with Medda and spot’s wave during the tiktok was actually his breakup goodbye and now they’re broken up because race posted the tiktok

That one does scare race actually

But spot laughs it off

“They’re just jealous I get to see you all the time”

“I can always delete it if the attention makes you uncomfortable”

“Thank you for the offer, racer, but I don’t mind”

Race’s fears that spot will leave him don’t get fixed overnight

It takes weeks of spot assuring him on facetime calls from across the country that he isn’t going to leave race regardless of the media

But spot does have a hard time with the press and he’s angry because Race seems like he’s waiting for them to break up which confuses Spot because he feels like the luckiest man in the world. He’s dating Anthony Fucking Higgins

Instead of taking it out on his insecure bf, he contacts Albert and asks for a therapist recommendation

(Albert and spot have become good friends. Race loves it)

And starts going to therapy to talk about the huge change in his life now that he’s dating Anthony Higgins

(He also starts reading up on ADHD to help make Race feel as comfortable as he can and follows every helpful account on Insta that he can find)

Eventually some of the fuss dies down

Spot’s coworkers stop asking him for the inside scoop

The paparazzi ask less and less questions

And the world goes on

Of course, the media is always down for a good story

So when they see Anthony Higgins unloading boxes into a brownstone they lose their everloving minds

But race hadn’t even told spot yet because he wanted it to be a surprise

So he’s freaked out because god, he wants to live near spot but what if spot thinks it’s too fast and what if he thinks race is possessive and dumps him?

(They’ve been dating for over a year at this point so no it’s not too fast you glorious idiot)

Spot does find out from the news that race has moved to NYC

But that’s only because he has notifications for Anthony Higgins on and sees the pictures (yet they don’t follow each other on any social medias)

It makes him so happy he wants to jump up and down like a five year old on Christmas

So he picks up one of race’s many frantic calls

“Hey, babe”

“Hey, spot. I dunno if you’ve seen the news but—“

“Oh yeah. What’s the address?”

“You-you ain’t mad?”

“No! Of course not! My boyfriend finally lives in the same fucking city as me! Of course I’m not mad!”

“Oh thank god”

“Text me the address. Do you want a bagel?”

“You’re amazing. Sesame seed, pls”

“I know. See ya in twenty”

And spot arrives at the brownstone with two ham and cheese bagels in his hand

And race feels like crying

He’s been so stressed about spot and this surprise and the fucking media

So he runs outside and knocks the bagels from spot’s hand in an attempt to hug his bf

“Fuck, I love you” race says before he can stop himself

“I love you too, dumbass”

It just feels natural to say I love you. Both of them barely even hesitate. They haven’t exactly said it but it’s been implied and it doesn’t feel scary or new or false

And spot loves that he has a relationship that he can feel that way (he’s so grateful for race)

(And he’s had some not-so-great bfs)

The tabloids get plenty of pictures of them outside the brownstone that day

Spot comes in for lunch later and just…never really leaves

He goes to work and goes to his apartment to get clothes

But he stays over almost every night

(Darcy doesn’t mind. He’s thinking of moving in with Bill anyway)

(Albert crashes at the brownstone for two weeks afterwards, calling himself the Media Fighter and chasing off any cameras that get close, as well as flashing a large group of particularly annoying paparazzi)

Spot helps decorate the walls because race likes to leave a thousand unfinished projects and has no qualms about buying anything cool from Michael’s

He also paints the bathroom, hangs Race’s pan and trans flags up, buys plants for the window sills, moves the mattress up the stairs with race and definitely doesn’t fall back down the stairs

They add so many songs to race’s Morning After playlist that it becomes twelve hours long but race just takes it as a challenge to have as many domestic mornings he can

And Spot’s so happy

Really really happy

Because he’s with race

Eventually, spot only goes to his apartment to get mail and he later changes his mailing address to their brownstone

Their brownstone

The paparazzi get plenty of pictures of race kissing spot goodbye in rubber duck patterned pajamas on mornings he has work and spot doing the same when race has to fly out for work

And that summer they get pictures of the couple walking their new puppy around the neighborhood

Things aren’t perfect but when will they ever be?

They have spats and spot has broken a few plates in anger but they’re working on it

Spots learning to be patient with race’s APD and race is learning to stop assuming spot is angry when he forgets something

No one never leaves

No one every storms away

No one ever tells the other to get the hell out

Race takes a few months as a break between trying to find work to take their puppy to classes while she’s still young enough and it helps him destress

(He had been worrying about the media and spot for months at a time and he was WORN OUT)

Spot considers quitting his job for good because he has race but ultimately decides he does need a life outside of Race and their puppy

And he doesn’t want race to feel like he has to work to provide for both of them

Because these boys deserve healthy boundaries and conversations! And to feel secure in their relationships!

[the-fourth-knower]

Diary of a lost doe, part 1

A short fic where my character Annabelle writes in diaries

Fresh off losing her parents, Annabelle Flaches must contend with trying to fend for herself and her baby sister Angelica. And with Angelica talking to a mysterious green orb when she thinks Annabelle isn’t watching, things are only at the tip of the iceberg.

This is for me and Aquillis’s “half and half” AU, our ‘main’ AU. not to be confused with Aqui’s pack universe which is her underground re-write.

Due to the length I'm splitting this into two parts. This is part 1, part 2 is here!

Diary Enry 1, Day I dunno.

Okay here it is. First diary entry I guess. Gotta keep it brief, writing instruements are hard.

Been a few months since that day. We’re doing fine. Angie started another garden. Moved to a new spot.

Got some new things for the house. Old car door and a tire. Not sure what I’ll do with the tire gonna use the door as part of wall.

Finished roof this morning. Good thing 2, might rain.

Angie still sleps bad if not next to me. Writing while she’s curled up. Wasn’t for scars on ear and having to sleep in same clothes she’d look like we’re still home.

Gotta sleep now.

Diary Entry 2

Maybe got a job. Illegal probs but $ is $

Angelica talked more today. Good sign? Maybe she relapses back into not talking but progress.

I never thought i’d miss her annoying stupid “hey lets go explore a cave and not tell anyone bout what we’ll do” self. Never thought about losing mum and pa ei

Shit crying. Bye.

Diary entry 3

Diary didn’t get too wet yesterday.Don’t think bout mom and pa it ends badly.

I can’t afford to break down even if Angie’s sleeping

If I break down then Angie will get upset

I won’t put her through it

I won’t

…

Diary entry 54

Had to leave town but am 600 $ richer

Angie’s quiet again. But she didn’t complain bout us leavin

gonna go for a city maybe. more risk but more money and places to live.

Jadetown’s the city. Dunno too much bout it but mum liked it.

Should get there in maybe a cuple weeks or so

Angie’s sound asleep. No kicking or anything so that’s good

Hope the city’s okay. Angie hates crowds.

Need somewhere with not a lot of crowds to live at

…

Diary Entry 63

Been a hot second. Settling in Jadetown’s pretty hard.

Find a quiet spot in the slums. Pretty shitty now, but the two of us can make it work

Angie still isn’t talking, but she kept close to me while we made our way through the crowds. She seemed fine as long as she held my hand

Lost her a couple times, but not for long. She seemed upset bout it.

Sorry Angie.

I’ll do better. I promise.

...

Diary Entry 169 (it’s the morning but fuck it)

The nightmare happened again.

Angelica having her ear scared by those monsters. mum and pa being taken away in exchange for us being set loose

Only it loops around and around before it’s just cries and blood and knives and screams and crying and they’re all surrounding me judging me for just failing everyone because you’re a fucking failure

Haven’t had it a while. Don’t upset yourself, Angie needs you.

Diary entry 169? Night

Angelica almost killed some street thugs.

we caught some dumbass looking punks bullying some sort of chao. I think it’s a chao

I ran up to one like an idiot and gout in their face to know what they’re doin, and the things went dark. I got knocked out on my ass, apparenlty the big brute that led them butted me in the head. Asshole didn’t even let me get ready

I came to to Angie trying to shake me awake. When I looked around the punks were gone, there were plant vines all over, and the other kids that had gathered were a mix of crapped their pants and mouths on the floor

I asked angie bout it and she just said she took care of them and that the punks had run off

What the hell did she do? Usually I’m the one saving her? But she was having none of it today.

Oh the chao’s fine, weirdass chao though. Never seen chao that just cause flowers to grow around them or in their footsteps.

Made 30 $

Rib’s hurting and headache, Angie fast asleep. Time for bed.

Diary Entry 170

Chao’s bak.

Visited Angie’s garden for a while watchin me watchin it. It waved and left right around Angie gettin up.

Showed up again when we got back home. Angie hasn’t seen it yet. Good thing, she wanted to bring it with us. We can’t afford three mouths.

I don’t like it. We save its ass and now its stalking us.

Made nothin.

Ribs hurt less. Still a bitch.

Diary entry 171

Angie’s found the “chao”

She talked to it all morning when she thought i was napping. Couldn’t sleep, too afraid of bad dreams.

It doesn’t make chao sounds. Or it does but really weird ones.

Then it turned a green light ball for a bit and back into a chao

Angie liked that.

I don’t trust it. Even less.

Need to watch it.

Angie’s relaxed.

Made 5$.

Diary Entry 172 morn

Nightmare again

Diary Entry 172 night

Angie got excited, claimed that she “found Trevor”

he lived near us back in our old home

Had to tell her no, every red mouse we see is not Trevor.

She says that Trevor and his family were gonna move here, pretty inistent too.

Man she gets caught up on the smallest things

Made 20$

Diary Entry 173

Chao returned while i was working. Left Angie on her own

Shes seemed like she was having a fun time being able to talk with someone

She’s not made friends much. Maybe i’m being too hard on the ‘chao’

Still gotta watch it. It could be manipulating her

Haven’t told her I know bout the chao yet.

Should i?

Not now. Angelica is sleeping.

Made 5$

Diary Entry 174

‘Trevor’ spotting 2. Angie wanted to go bug the person. So we went and sure enough as we got closer Angie changed her mind. It was a rat, not a mouse she said.

How can she tell the difference?

No Angie and chao visit. Unless it was while i slept in. but why would she be secretive bout it?

Saw the punk bitch again today. Looked like he crapped his pants when he saw Angie and she glared at him. That’s my sister.

Made 60$

…

Diary Entry 364

Got a new diary. Last entry for this one. Things going well. Got a good thing going for myself.

Angie found a new plant today, and now she’s got it in her garden.

Loved the look on her face when I got it for her.

Made 50$

Angelica’s chatted with the Chao again. Sort of like, is her guardian I think. Or is that its name

Guess good bye diary 1. Really weird to do but it feels right.

Angie’s sleeping well enough on her own. She mumbles but that seems it.

Do I do a good job keeping her safe

Diary 2 Entry 1

Managed to find a new diary. Keeping the old one just cause, and because I have the storage. For a couple of street bum does, we’ve got a decent enough house going. Been able to put it together from bits and bobs lying around, Angie even threw in her hat and added her own touches.

Looks ugly as hell with the plants holding things together and it’s all a mish mash of junk and crap I found, but it’s our mishmash of junk and crap.

Also saved up enough and am making enough to afford more than one pen and even some pencils. So I can write more often. Just felt like writing

Angie’s started to get more vocal again. I think she’s catching onto the fact the way I’ve been making money is less than honest a lot of the time.

I’m not going to sell myself for it though. I’m not degrading myself with that and nayone who fucking tries is going to a hospital.

And if any of those freaks dare go near Angie there won’t be enough left for a morgue to pick up.

Oh, and the chao’s still around. I can feel it. Angelica loves it, I think. I don’t trust it entirely, yet. But, it hasn't been a danger for the past months. So I think it’s actually a good thing.. Angie calls it Guardian. Maybe it's our own Guardian Angel.

Made 65$ today.

Good journal entry me. You got talkative. Writative? Whatever.

...

Diary 2 Entry 23

Got into a fight today, that was fun. The punks from when I helped save Guardian decided to jump me when Angelica was at the house. Guess they figured they could jump me without little sis to back me up. Too bad for them, when I don’t get suckered I’m damn good at defending myself. Sent them packing. Got a bit bruised. Why is it always the ribs with those guys.

Admittedly. I didn’t have to beat the crap out of them. But talk shit get hit, I say. They shouldn’t have been trash talking me when I was walking by.

-

Angelica was upset when I got back. Should’ve expected that, really. Don’t know why I didn’t think she would notice me being hurt, she’s got a sixth sense for that sort of thing. Always has. Kinda weird.

But, she did try and heal me a bit. Somehow, she’s gotten better at it -Ever since she's met Guardian, she’s gotten more control over that healing ability she has. I just need to make sure she doesn’t overdo herself again.

I don’t know anything much bout healing magic or whatever it is, but I don’t think what Angie has is normal. I think she uses herself for it. Whatever healing she tries to do just eats away at her. And whatever it was was enough to frighten Pa to move us in the first place

-

I think part of me might blame ANgie for it. For getting us out of the safety of where we lived near Agateton and moving.

But if we didn’t move would we really have been safe still. And it wasn’t Angie’s fault she did what she did, it was Pa who pushed for it and Mum who went with it.

So do I blame them? I don’t want to. The monsters that took them and hurt Angie are the ones to blame.

But they wouldn’t have found us if we didn’t move near that forest. But Mum and Pa couldn’t have seen it coming.

Ugh. brain hurts. Fuck this mind screw bullshite

Spent 123.54$ today. Groceries and supplies. Tampons are stupid expensive but I want to have a decent supply for when we need them. Also some food.

Made 13$. Gonna need to work more to recoup.

No idea if Angie talked with Guardian. She still thinks I don’t know anythin bout it.

At least, I think she doesn’t. She gets defensive and acts like she doesn’t know what I’m talking about.

I wonder why she does that. Wonder if it’s tied with how I react to her saying she’s found Trevor for the umpteenth time.

Maybe I should press her bout it. But I don’t want to get her worked up over nothin.

Okay that’s enough, my mind’s getting wandering now and I stay up if I do that.

...

Diary 2 Entry 54

Someone showed up with a bunch of robots earlier. Cause quite the commotion, sent people running, the usual.

Apparently he set up shop in the rich quarter and is causing all sorts of troubles. People have been coming to and fro a lot the past few days.

Angie got worried over explosions. Had to calm her down, explain that whatever it was probably wasn’t coming here. She asked me bout the people there and if they needed help - told her that someone would take care of the rich fops. That’s what they do after all. Who gives a shit about two practically orphaned kids.

Not sure if she bought it. Gotta keep an eye on her. Might need to pull an all nighter.

And we don’t have any energy drinks or coffee. I could go grab one, no one is gonna give a shit if I do, not in this current environment.

Gotta stop for now. Gotta focus on Angie not some stupid book.

Entry 55

Angie’s missin

[bluebellhairpin]

Be My Valentine?

Attack on Titan X Reader

A/N: Look at y’all, giving me a sweet tooth. A few days too early too. I wrote this like a week ago. - Nemo

Warnings: A little suggestive. Much Fluff. Modern AU. 

Listening to: ‘That’s What I Like’ by Bruno Mars (slowed) - ‘You deserve it baby, you deserve it all.’ 

Masterlist

Armin Arlert 

He is so organized, and no I’m not meaning he remembers to buy chocolates, flowers or a stuffed bear - no no no, to Armin that is not acceptable.

To Armin those are things he does every day. 

So you can bet your lovable ass that you have a much better Valentines Day than anyone else you know. 

He even manages to top it every year.

Once, he rented a penthouse for the night just because - tbh he probably said something dumb like ‘you deserve this and more’. (okay not that dumb, I’m just upset because no one will ever do that for me.) 

He had to save up for like, two years to do it though. 

Baby boy just wants to show his appreciation.

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Erwin Smith

He’s less organized than Armin, but he does have more money, and he is 100 per cent not afraid to ask for help. 

But like he’s an old fashioned guy.

Dinner, red roses, mayhaps a night in afterwards *wink wink*

But deadass this guy just makes it seem so special every time? Like you did it last year and you know you’ll do it again? But it’s so exciting anyway? 

Def feeds you the choccy strawberries. Or chicky nuggies. Whichever. He don’t care as long as his beloved is happy. 

Probably has a new item of jewelry bought a week in advance. Even if you don’t usually wear it, just do it for that night and he’ll be satisfied. 

He like’s buying you stuff, and he likes seeing you with/wearing the stuff he buys.

Dunno why, some shady possessive stuff probably, but who are we to complain? 

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Levi Ackerman

Smh. 

Man’s does not care.

At all.

‘Valentines? Who is that?’ 

But seriously, the only reason he doesn’t care is because he think’s ‘it’s dumb that we only have one day in the whole year to show our love for that one person when it should happen all the time.’ 

If he see’s a particularly nice bouquet or a brand of sweets you like that’s around during this time of year - however - he will get it for you. 

Because he knows you like whatever it was.

And if you do like Valentines day, he will do something for you on that day. 

He doesn’t think his opinions should always be yours and vice versa. 

But don’t catch him browsing the valentines themed isle in the grocery store otherwise you’ll get beat. 

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Reiner Braun

nEVER forgets. Ever. 

There are three dates set into his brain and he forgets everything else.

1. Your B-day. 2. Your Anniversary. And 3. Valentines Day. 

Bed’s covered in the petals of your favorite flowers. There’s matching bouquet’s in every room. 

Music’s playin’ as soon as you walk in, he’s standing there in that outfit he knows you like. Favorite dinner and drinks all set out. JUst walking home to that is *chefs kiss* ahhhhhh

But make sure you get something for him. 

The way he melts that you got him something? Even if it’s little, he will grab you and not let you go for like half and hour. 

Please return the favor. Hold him this night. Do not let go. Hold him tighter and tighter and he will not stop saying how much he loves you.

Even as he starts to fall asleep he will keep telling you. 

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Zeke Jaeger

Probably takes you on an overnight trip somewhere way too expensive and acts like it’s nothing. 

‘Zeke, this is a private jet.’ - ‘And?’ - ‘It’s going to Paris Zeke.’ - ‘Yeah? That’s like the whole point?’ 

Mans sees no problem spending a minor fortune on one night’s worth of activates and items. 

Goes all-out and is not afraid to do so. 

Will have you dress-up all nice and take you out on his arm to go to dinner. He’s trying to show you off. Like ‘look at this beauty I scored. You wish you were me.’ and I think that’s very in-character of him. 

Like legitimately the most fancy thing you ever wanted to - he’ll have it. 

Ball gown? Slim shimmery red-carpet dress? A suit that matches his that you pull off so much better than him? 

Shows his love through gift-giving, so just let him do what he gotta do. 

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Jean Kirstein 

He’s another classic roses, chocolates, and teddy bears guy. 

There’ll be a few times where the date creeps up and catches him off-guard, but he’ll always go out of his way to make sure he doesn’t see you empty-handed. 

Yes, that has once meant he rocked up to your door with a handful of flowers that were definitely from your neighbors front yard. 

You do also have one section of your bookshelf designated to stuffed animals he’s gotten you for valentines day. Yeah, not just bears. There’s a llama, lizard, and a bigfoot also. 

More like ‘at least’.

ALWAYS WRITES A NOTE OR CARD - depending on how much time is left - AND IT’S NOT JUST REALLY CUTE AND ROMANTIC BUt he draws a little mini him and you in the corner holding hands. 

Jean write me a valentines note plz, I’m so lonely and I love you.

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Connie Springer

Dumbass never remembers.

And if you don’t remember either then oh well. Guess a midnight Macca’s run is in order.

Yeah, he CAN make McDonalds romantic. Don’t think so? Fite me.

But then he feels bad, so he ducks into the closest open store and buYS YOU A RING POP -

‘Sweetie, I got you something?’ - ‘Yeah, what?’ - ‘A new cushion because dat ass keeps ruining all mine.’ ‘A ring, I hope you like it uwu.’

OFC YOU LIKE IT HOW CAN YOU NOT?

tbh if you rock up three days later - candy eaten - but still wearing the ring part he’ll start bawling. 

He ends up getting you a real ring a little later - a muther fooken PROMICE RING. OF aLL thingS. So yeah, He does top every single other person on this list. Don’t @ me. 

You still keep that ring pop tho. Cherish it forever. 

[bxngchxn]

Cupid’s Arrow || A Valentine’s Special

pairing: jisung x female!reader

wc: 2.85k 

genre: cupid!au, fluff, humor

warnings: none!

description: every cupid has one job: shoot the arrow at your assigned human. What happens when someone misses?

a/n: ok so I started writing this at 9pm and it’s currently 12:46 am on valentines day so obvs this won’t be perfect but this was a cute idea so I hope you guys like it! you’re all my valentines you don’t have a choice ok mwah love u 

(ps: pls don't be mad at me for how I ended this lmao if yall like it enough i’ll write a pt 2!)

taglist:  @dom--minnie @sparklemin @minholuvs @hanflix

-

the week leading up to Valentine’s Day is the busiest day of the year for angels like Jisung-- assignment after assignment of soulmates coming across his desk as the romantic holiday looms closer. don’t get him wrong, jisung loves his job. He loves getting to watch the moment two people, fated to each other finally meet-- the soft smiles, the faint blushes and shy introductions are something that makes his entire week. this time of year, though, all he really wants is to go home for the night. 

he turns off the multiple screens on his desk, videos of intended lovers fading to black as his day comes to an end. closing the door and making sure to turn the lock, jisung sighs in relief as he makes his way down the hallway to the elevators, a few fellow cupids waiting for him by the door. 

“hey jisung! we’re taking a trip down to earth to walk amongst the humans for awhile. do you wanna tag along?” Minho, the oldest of the bunch asks. next to him, jisung spots hyunjin, changbin and jeongin looking at him expectantly.

jisung met the group of angels five years ago, when he first started his job. inexperienced and ridiculously nervous, he clung to his coworkers throughout all of his training. although a sarcastic and rather rowdy bunch, jisung was quickly accepted for his bright smile and love for..well, love.

he had always found it interesting, the concept of love. it was merely a human emotion, but at the same time something so inhumanly complex. the idea that everyone has a person that they absolutely can’t live without, and some of them don’t even know it yet? crazy to him, but oh so fascinating. 

the early days are always his favorite to watch once he’s successfully struck two people. everything is new and fun, and so unpredictable. there’s the first dates, shy hand holding, stolen glances. you never know when someone is going to finally make the first move, shyly moving closer and closer to their lover to gauge their reaction. jisung had always wondered what love felt like-- the closest he could get was his job as a cupid. he figured that would have to suffice.

when he finally reaches the doors to the elevators, he flashes a smile at the boys in front of him. “last time we went down to earth, hyunjin literally caused a traffic jam because he smiled at a dog. are you guys sure this is a good idea?” he quips, and the boys laugh while hyunjin rolls his (absolutely gorgeous) eyes. 

“first of all that's not true,” he begins, and elbows jeongin in the side when he hears a sound of contradiction leave his mouth “and we aren’t going anywhere crowded, just to a café that I saw the other day when I was working.” he says, and jisung nods his head in contemplation. 

“sure, that sounds like fun. I haven’t had a good cup of coffee in awhile,” he agrees, and with that, the five make their way into the elevator.

stepping out onto the sidewalk, jisung took a moment to feel the sun on his skin. this was one of his favorite parts about earth, so warm and so bright. of course, it’s nothing compared to heaven, but sometimes the change of scenery made it easier for jisung to relax. 

the group is quite chatty as they make their way to the suggested café, commenting on the different humans they pass. everyone is so unique in their own ways, and it fascinates the five angels, who rarely get to walk among them. Lucky for them, they look like any other human being, meaning no one will be able to tell the difference.

the café that hyunjin brought everyone to had a light and airy atmosphere. the walls a bright white, flourishing greenery all around the restaurant complimented the white and yellow tables and matching chairs. It felt like they were in the middle of a field of wild flowers. jisung absolutely adored it, the smells of coffee and pastries filling his nose as they found a nice table next to a window.

looking around, the jisung watched as a girl made her way across the café and sat close to the entrance, with a laptop in front of her and headphones around her neck. She seemed content, sighing to herself with a small smile on her lips as she opened her laptop and took a bite of the muffin sitting in front of her.

“wait wait wait, that’s one of my humans! I’m supposed to shoot her once th- oh my god! there’s the soon-to-be soulmate too! I can’t miss this opportunity!” Minho exclaims quietly while he reaches into the backpack he had brought with him. The other cupids turn to look at him incredulously.

The ‘soon-to-be soulmate’, as Minho put it, seemed rather dull compared to his supposed counterpart. He wasn’t bad looking, but there was something about him that just didn’t seem right to Jisung. this girl seemed to match the vibes of the café-- like a warm summer day, not a cloud in the sky. the kind of day that lasts in your memories for years to come, and this man...he just was not it. Hair disheveled, seemingly in a rush as he was tapping his foot impatiently at the counter. Jisung knew that opposites could attract, but he just didn’t see it in the cards for this one.

“is this why you wanted to come down here?” jeongin asked with wide eyes, knowing that they shouldn’t be meddling unless they’re on the clock. The others turn to Minho who has now gotten two arrows and his bow out from his bag. 

“Uhm….no?” he says sheepishly once he sees the stares that are being thrown at him. He takes one of the arrows and lines it up on his bow, pulling his arm back and aiming at the girl peacefully enjoying her day.

“Minho do you really think this is the best time?” jisung asks apprehensively. almost too focused on getting a good shot, Minho didn’t answer him.

He lets go of the arrow and it zips through the air, hitting the girl in the shoulder as she starts to work on her laptop. Humans can’t physically feel the arrow when they get shot-- that almost defeats the belief in soulmates. She continues on as if nothing happened, and jisung almost rolls his eyes as he watches Minho line up his second shot.

“Look,” Minho begins, “they’re supposed to meet tomorrow anyway! why not speed up the process?” he says as he draws his arm back. 

Out of nowhere, a customer in the store drops a coffee cup. The sound of the glass shattering startles pretty much everyone in the café, including the group of angels. In fact, it startles them enough that the unbelievable happens.

Minho’s arm slips, and the arrow is released...straight into Jisung’s shoulder.

The two look at each other in absolute disbelief, and Jisung wants to strangle the older cupid. A very quiet “oops” leaves Minho’s mouth.  

“Are you kidding me?!?” Jisung says a little too loudly. Everyone is looking at the two of them, including the girl that Minho just struck. 

When the two make eye contact, Jisung feels something...strange. He knows it’s a reaction from the love arrow, but is this what love is supposed to feel like? He feels like he wants to throw up, butterflies flying in his stomach as he notices the faint blush on the cheeks of the girl across the room. That’s when he really sees her for the first time, like, really sees her.

He isn’t sure how he didn't see it before. Her hair falls perfectly over her shoulders, and her eyes that are staring at him in slight confusion still shine brighter than any star he’d ever seen..and he’s seen a lot of stars.

He’s silent for a few moments, and the other boys start looking at each other with concern. “Wait, no, what the hell? Cupid’s can’t get struck! What is going on?” Changbin says as he watches the way the two are staring at each other. 

This isn’t allowed. Cupids don’t have many rules, but one of the biggest rules for any angel is: Do not associate with humans. It’s the reason why they can’t-- or shouldn't, really-- feel love in the first place. Messing with the rules of the universe could have big consequences. It’s never happened before, but there have always been enough myths that get spread around that would deter any angel from even thinking about it. Yet, here jisung is, absolutely head over heels for a human, even if it is all Minho’s fault.

“I don't know, this hasn't happened before. Oh my god, what did I do,” Minho starts spiraling. Its at that moment that the others know they need to get the hell out of there. Scooping up Jisung, who is currently still staring at the girl who has now focused on her work instead, they rush out of the café. Once Jisung is out of eyesight of the girl, he shakes his head in confusion and comes back down to earth (pun intended). 

“Ohhhh no, no no no. This is bad,” Jisung says, running his hands through his hair exasperated. “Minho what the fuck happened?!” he asks. 

Putting his hands up, Minho tries to defend himself. “I don’t know! That person dropped their cup and it threw me off!” he says quickly, and it makes Jisung want to roll his eyes.

“You dumbass, that’s why we shouldn’t even be down here in the first place! If Chan finds out, we’re dead! That’s it! We’re gonna be out of jobs and not able to pay our bills and-- oh my god there she is,” Jisung exclaims once he sees the girl exit the café, looking around confused. Turning around, she spots Jisung and starts to make her way towards him. 

“Oh no, nope. Not now, this is a bad time,” Hyunjin says while they try to drag Jisung away from the girl. He shimmies out of their grip as she approaches him.

“Uh, hi. I think one of you left this in the café?” she says. Looking down, Jisung sees his cellphone in her hand. “I saw it sitting at the table you guys walked away from, I’m glad I was able to find you when I came outsi-- Oh, wow, hi..” she cuts herself off, awestruck when she makes eye contact with Jisung. Hyunjin rolls his eyes as he watches the two of them. Jisung doesn’t know what to say. 

“Oh, yeah this is..mine..thank you,” he says as he holds out his hand. He swears he can feel electricity run through him when her hand makes contact with his. He has never experienced a feeling so strong like this before. He knew that love was dramatic but he didn’t think it was like this.

Reminding himself that this isn’t supposed to be happening, he clears his throat. “Okay well we have to go. Thank you for my phone, goodbye!” he says quickly, leaving the girl and his friends in complete confusion has he turns on his heel and starts to almost sprint in the opposite direction. The boys quickly follow him after offering a small wave to the girl, who returns it as she turns to walk away. 

“Jisung, you cannot possibly see her again” Hyunjin says once they finally catch up to him. And even though Jisung knows that, there’s something that is inevitably pulling him towards her.

When they finally make it back to heaven and Jisung gets home, he pulls his phone out to check his messages. To his shock, he finds a new contact added into his phone, with a photo of a girl who’s eyes remind him of galaxies.

Y/N, aka Café Girl

As you walk down the street, you smile feeling the warm sunshine on your shoulders. It may be the middle of February, but you seemed to be blessed with a particularly warm day. This day had been nothing out of the ordinary, but for some reason you felt lighter, walking with a bounce in your step that you haven’t had in a long time.

Your mind wanders back to the boy you saw at the café not too long ago. His honey coloured hair shined under the artificial lights in the room, and his brown eyes reminding you of the warmest hot chocolate on a cold winter day. He hadn’t left your mind since the two of you made eye contact for the first time.

It’s been awhile since you’ve found someone that caught your interest so quickly. You never believed in love at first sight, but after today you just might be changing your mind. It seemed like fate that he left his cellphone on the table in the café, and it was definitely a risk that you had put your phone number in his contacts. You’ve never done something like that before, but something was telling you that you just needed to take the chance and make the first move. 

Eventually, days and then weeks pass, and you haven’t even received a text message from him. You feel a little disappointed every time you check your phone, hoping that you’ll see his number come up on your screen. You didn’t even know his name, nor when (or if) you’d ever get to see him again. You should’ve been prepared for the sinking feeling in your chest, but you had still been hopeful.

You still frequented the café, mainly because it was a calm and quiet place to work, but also because you were secretly hoping you’d run into him again-- you at least needed to learn his name. That’s all you could think about while you try to focus on your work, but to no avail. You decided to give yourself a break, letting your thoughts swirl with chocolate colored eyes.

 As your eyesight wanders the café, you hear the front door bell ring and you’re forced to meet eyes with the man that has lived in your head rent free for the past two weeks. You almost can’t believe it. He seems like he’s searching for something, or someone.

 As he looks around the room, you get nervous. You wonder if he’ll remember who you are, or maybe he’s already deleted your number and rejected you without even telling you? Maybe he already has a girlfriend? Maybe even a boyfriend? 

The thoughts running through your head completely distract your from the fact that he’s sat down in front of you. “Uhm..excuse me?” He says quietly, and your breath gets caught in your throat when you hear his voice. 

“Oh, i’m sorry, I didn’t scare you did I?” he asks, and you shake your head quickly. “No! No not at all. I, uh..hi,” you say with a light blush on your cheeks, and it makes Jisung’s heart soar to the sky. 

He’s definitely not used to feeling like this. He’s been trying to avoid it for the past few weeks, hoping that if he had ignored it these weird feelings would go away. He searched for hours and hours for a loophole in getting struck with a cupid’s arrow, but even hyunjin couldn’t find anything. 

After nights of tossing and turning while images of you danced through his head, he knew he needed to see you. He got lucky that you were at the café, this was the only place he had ever seen you so he was hoping he’d get to catch you here. 

“You never texted me, you know. Did you delete my number?” you asked him, feigning hurt. You saw his eyes go bigger as he tried to defend himself. “N-no! I definitely did not delete it. I was just so shocked that I didn’t know what to say...how did you even know the phone was mine?” He asked, laughing quietly. Jisung won’t lie, that was a pretty bold move. He was actually impressed once the initial shock had passed.

“Oh, I definitely wasn’t not staring at you across the room or anything and saw you on your phone. Definitely not,” you say with a flirty laugh, and it immediately sparks intrigue in Jisung.

 The line rolled off your lips so easily, and Jisung is convinced that it’s an effect from the arrow. “Oh, were you now? How did I not notice someone as pretty as you looking my way?” He asks, and his eyes go wide when he hears himself speak. 

What was that? All of this is so foreign to him, but when the blush on your cheeks gets a little darker he decides that maybe, just maybe, this will be worth the consequences he might face if Chan ever finds out about this.

“Listen,” he begins cautiously. “I have...a lot of things that I need to tell you. But let me start with this: How about I take you out on a date?”