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silver-weasel · 4 years ago

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Diving (Deku x Reader)

Pairing : Deku x fem!reader (aged-up characters)

Rating : E, 18+

Tags : smut • fem!reader (she/her) • best friends to lovers / childhood friends to lovers • quirkless AU • p*rn with feelings (like. a lot of them) • public sex (more or less) • switching • hair pulling? • pining • Deku being flustered and an absolute angel what’s new • Reader being a teasing brat • It’s all soft and fluffy, I’m as vanilla as you can get 🤷‍♀️ • Happy birthday to the bestest boyyy I love him so much it hurts

Word count : 10 600 (Holy sh—)

A/N : Thank you @hoe-doroki my beloved and savior for beta-ing <3

Written for @rat-zuki’s collab in honor of our favorite birthday boy, The Deku Agenda Escapes no One. Thank you so much for letting me join! (go check out the other amazing writers and artists!)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

The ground grinds repeatedly under your hiking shoes, some pebbles being kicked forward on your way. You’re way too deep in the forest to hear any cars passing by and during the two hours you’ve been here you haven’t run into anyone. The place seems empty, the only souls breathing the forest’s thick air being you, Izuku and the birds chirping all around you.

The afternoon is coming to an end, the sun sinking down on its way to hide behind the mountains. The remains of its soft light are filtering through the dense leaves all around and above you. You’re surrounded by green, lush and immeasurable greenery, every plant merging into another.

You’ve left the marked paths, now wandering deep in the richest, boundless part of a forest you both know like the back of your hand after roaming it all over innumerable times. All over, except for this part, in which you’re setting foot for the first time today. Your many previous hiking sessions were shortened by your questionable sense of organization, always arriving too late to explore further into the unknown.

Leaves brush against your knees with every single step you take as you follow Izuku on his heels. He’s moving at a steady pace, his hands holding tight the straps of his yellow backpack that he’s had for as long as you can remember. He’s always so organized, has everything you two could eventually need and generally never do. Two huge flasks of water, an entire meal he calls ‘little snacks’, with sandwiches, fruits, protein bars, even hard-boiled eggs. A first-aid kit with disinfectant, bandages, scissors and painkillers. Hell, you’re even wondering if he has any pads for you in there, in case of an unexpected period. You wouldn’t be surprised if he did.

You giggle lightly when you see him stumble for the sixth time since you got here; he can’t seem to keep his curious eyes from drifting up and around, looking in every direction, probably retaining every detail and logging it in some impressive mental database of his. And he’s commenting on every little thing he sees too; he makes you notice things you never would have if it weren’t for his candid interest in everything.

“Oh! Look at that bird!” he exclaims, pointing at a branch over your heads. “Do you see it, right there, with the red mark!”

You turn your gaze to where he’s pointing and see a little bird, very cute, but so tiny you’re wondering how one could spot it without specifically looking for it. That’s probably what you like most about Izuku: his attention to detail. That’s the thing—nothing is too small for him, everything is worthy of interest. His eyes always light up with such curiosity, this child-like wonder and it was always one of your favorite things to witness growing up.

When he came over to your house at age six, he was always running around with some bug on his forearm, calling your name, yelling, “Look at this!”

Most of the time, it was a snail or a ladybug, and that always managed to catch your interest. Sometimes, it was a spider or a beetle, and he had you screaming in horror more than once, running to your mother’s legs with weeping eyes. Those times, he always watched you go with wide, sad eyes and a wobbly lip, because, “I would never hurt her, Mom! I swear I didn’t want to scare her!”

“Oh, yeah, I see it! It’s so cute!”

And it is cute, the way his huge green eyes go even rounder in amazement. You treasure these hikes for providing occasions to witness this. But as much as you wish this moment could last forever, the sun is beginning to set, you probably shouldn’t go deeper in the forest at sundown.

“We should probably head back to the car, Izuku. It’s gonna be dark soon.”

“Come on, it’s still so light—there’s no rush!” His lips crook a bit into an impish smile. “Scared that a bear is coming to get you?”

“There aren’t any bears here—we’ve been coming for five years.”

“Because if it’s the bears you’re afraid of,” he begins, ignoring you on purpose, “you know I’ll protect you, right?” he says, sticking out his chest like he’s some superhero.

“Against a bear? Right.”

“You’re underestimating me? That’s just mean.”

You chuckle at his antics, shooting him a look of yours that says, ‘Come on, please?’.

His eyes soften a bit, but he’s used to that look; it’s been years since it worked on him as well as you’d like it to.

“We can just keep going this way, then we’ll make a loop and head back to the car directly! It’ll be even shorter this way.”

“Alright, let’s do that,” you agree, and the smile it elicits from him makes something tingle deep in your stomach.

You move forward again, sinking deeper within the forest. It’s becoming harder and harder to walk, brambly branches and huge leaves blocking your way more and more with every step.

You’re a bit ahead of him when you catch sight of a sparkle behind the bushes. Just a glimpse of light, but you’re positive you saw it. Is there water here? You never really looked at a map of the place before—you just always went wherever you felt like and used the same tracks on the way back. You hurry up a bit, curious eyes fixed on that glimmer of light.

Soon enough the dense greenery comes to an end, and you’re finally out of the bushes, finding your way into a little clearing. You’re standing, speechless, in front of a pond: it’s about forty feet wide, catching the last rays of sunshine in a dazzling reflection. The water is surrounded by gigantic trees big enough to be home to an entire niche of biodiversity, and a half-sandy, half-stony shore with reeds rising from the water on both sides.

It’s all calm and quiet and massive trees, branches pouring, cascading above still water. The air feels cool, filled with a pure smell of dew and spring even though it’s the end of a hot day of July.

Izuku is close behind you and lets out a very cute, “Whoa,” ditching his backpack on the ground next to you in the middle of the cove. The both of you just stand there for a moment in complete silence, aside from the birds chirping. Izuku breaks it first:

“How come we’ve never seen this before? This place is amazing.” He sounds distant as he speaks, soaking up his surroundings like he always does.

“I guess you never know everything about anything,” you say mindlessly, without detaching your gaze of the wonderful view ahead.

He’s standing close to you, very close. You’re only noticing now that you’re coming down from the high of your discovery. Your arms are brushing, you can feel his body heat from how close you two are. It wouldn’t be the first time; you’re no stranger to being physically close to Izuku. You’ve been playing together since you were able to put one foot in front of the other. And you wish you could say it feels any different right now, but that would be a lie. Being close to him always felt the same. Always felt like the only easy thing in your life. The only constant.

Yet it’s not enough. No matter how close, it’s never enough, it never was. You hate yourself for feeling that way; you’ve never been the greedy, unsatisfied type. You have everything with Izuku. Well, almost everything.

But right now this place—this very quiet, beautiful place with no one in sight is doing things to your fertile imagination. Despite the sun just beginning to set, the summer air still remains thick with heat. You find yourself staring in the abyss of that water, admiring the masterpiece of a reflection on the surface, a painting of leaves and clouds and blue sky. It calls you, sings an irresistible song of fresh water on sweaty skin and strong, freckled arms wrapped around you.

You don’t know if the slight, insignificant detail that you would have to undress in order to dive into that water—since you didn’t bring a swimsuit—is a better reason to do it or to refrain from doing so.

You’ve lost count of how many moments you’ve shared with him just like this one. So many chances for you to take. You never have.

Back to the original issue: can you see yourself walk out of that clearing the way you always do? Can you see yourself going home, adding this missed chance to your growing collection of lost memories, of hands within your reach that you chose not to take?

The answer pops in your mind, crystal clear for the first time since you met him.

You drop your bag on the ground, turning to Izuku with a delighted expression stretching your features. The look on your face reminds him of one he’d seen on you as a kid, bouncing on the balls of your feet in front of the ice cream truck. At this moment he just knows you’ve got some stupid shenanigan in mind, like you always do. Once again, he isn’t wrong.

“Wanna take a dip?” You’re squinting at him from his side, a mischievous smile lighting up your face.

“I-I didn’t bring a swimsuit,” he stutters.

It’s been a long time since he last stuttered in front of you. He got rid of it years ago, but it still resurfaces sometimes in front of intimidating strangers or in a socially uncomfortable situation. Never in front of you, though.

“Me neither,” you answer plainly with that same impish smile, and his eyes go round at your implications.

“Wait, you can’t be—Oh my God—”

His heart does a great flip in his chest when he catches you taking the hem of your shirt up over your head. In less than five seconds, you’ve got him scorching hot, feverish and suddenly he can’t tell right from left.

His reflex is to bury his face in his hands. He respects you too much to take a peek, but you’re making things very difficult for him. He can hear you move towards the water, can hear the thump of your forgotten shoes hitting the ground one after the other, can hear the soft pad of your naked feet on the rocks.

“For the love of God, please, put it back on…”

“What? Look at this view, it would be a shame not to make the most of it!”

He’s not looking at the view right now, he can’t let himself. He knows very well he won’t be able to focus on the trees when you’re standing pretty much naked—although he’s not sure to what extent—in front of him. You could be entirely naked right now and he wouldn’t be able to tell, his burning face still hidden in his shaking hands. His voice comes out muffled when he stammers, “I-It’s starting to get late, we really should get back to the car…”

“What, you’re scared of the bears?”

He can’t see you, but he knows you’re sporting that smug grin of yours, the one he first saw when you showed him your impressive collection of Pokémon cards on your preschool’s playground. You’ll have to take a lingering silence for an answer.

“Izuku, come on. I don’t bite.”

He’s not entirely sure the sight of you won’t gnaw him to the bone, won’t melt his entire body down and leave him a hot mess. He won’t be a man anymore, just a walking flame fueled by the heavenly sight of you. No, he can’t let himself fall into that. Obviously you don’t know what you’re doing to him.

Nevertheless, you’re probably the most stubborn person he knows. And he’s friends with Katsuki Bakugou, for God’s sake. He won’t be able to get out of this as easily as he wants, especially as he hears the delicate noise of water splitting at your feet as you enter the little pond.

He slowly moves his hands off of his face. You must have your back turned to him, so maybe he can drift his eyes off somewhere—

You are in front of him, thigh deep in the water now. In nothing but your panties. Your white, flower-patterned lace panties that are doing a very bad job at covering your backside. He lets out a long, pained whine, standing in the middle of the little shore with his arms dangling down his sides, not sure what to do with them.

“Why didn’t you at least keep your bra on?” His voice comes out way more wobbly than he intended to.

You turn a little so you can look at him, and it takes every little bit of strength he’s got left to look you in the eye. But as you’re turning around, the smooth curve of your breast starts showing, and God, is that your nipple?

He wants a giant hole to swallow him right now. He wants some forest creature to come for him right this instant, anything to keep him away from you, keep him from doing things he might regret. To punish him for having such thoughts about you, because you trust him, you’re so oblivious, so innocent, and he’s so weak against this inner monster that’s eating him away.

With a little frown, you deliver the answer like it’s self-evident as you kneel into the water, the surface just above your chest:

“I didn’t want it to get wet.”

“But you’re okay with your panties getting wet?”

The realization of what he just said is slow but surely comes. And when it does, he wishes even harder to get erased from the surface of this planet he’s already lucky enough to share with you. There is a long silence, and all he can hear for a few seconds are the birds chirping and the violent pounding of his heart against his ribcage, straining to get out.

You turn back around to look at him, dumbstruck.

“I’m more than okay with that—”

“Please forget I just said that,” he cuts you off. He’s not sure he can bear to hear more of this.

“I’m never forgetting you said that. It’s pure gold,” you scoff.

He can only answer with a drawn-out whine. He doesn’t have any choice in this, does he?

When you dive in the water, he takes both his shaking hands to the hem of his shirt and starts undressing.

What the fuck am I doing?

The water is so pure you can see underwater as clear as day: the few rocks at the bottom, the little silvery fish all around you, and the last rays of sunlight permeating through the calm surface above your head. The water feels a bit cold on your naked skin since the sunlight and summer heat must only hit the clearing at certain hours of the day. Still, the cold water isn’t enough to clear your foggy mind.

What was I thinking?

You’ve always been a bashful person, why is it changing all of a sudden? Maybe it’s the devastating effect Izuku has on you.

You try to calm down a bit, taking a deep breath. So, you’re pretty much naked in front of him. Well, it definitely wouldn’t be the first time, and it (probably) won’t be the last. Now you just have to go through with your stupid idea. It’s no big deal, it’s only Izuku. Only Izuku.

Only Izuku.

Fuck.

You finally surface, not only because you can’t hide underwater forever, but also because, surprisingly, you’re not a fish, you have to actually breathe.

You push your dripping hair to the back of your head, still careful to keep your breasts under the water. Izuku’s already in to his hips when you turn around to look at him, your vision still blurry from the water trickling all over your face. He’s merciless, standing like that, only the elastic of his boxers peeking out of the water. You’re a bit surprised by the plain, black color. You were expecting something along the lines of blue, yellow and red. Izuku is full of surprises.

But nevermind the color of his underwear—what you find just above is mesmerizing. Your indiscreet, incorrigible gaze can’t help following the thin trail of hair tracing up to his navel, then the stunning lines of his abs, partly hidden behind his freckled forearms shyly crossed over them. The freckles spread up his powerful arms, gently sunkissed, scattering all over his broad shoulders.

Is he actually hiding, though? Doesn’t he know he looks like he was carved by the gods themselves?

“Have you done this before?”

The sound of his voice startles you a bit. Ah, right. You were shamelessly staring. It takes you a couple of seconds to force your distracted mind back into focus. “Done what?”

“Skinny dipping?”

“No, it’s my first time. It looks like it’s yours too.” His big, bright eyes drift around like they don’t know where to look. It’s really cute.

“It is,” he admits, now kneeling into the water as well. “I would’ve thought you were used to this.” You arch a single eyebrow in an amused frown.

“What, do I look like I have a professional degree in skinny dipping?”

“No, it’s just…You look confident, it just seemed like it.”

Confident? You’re nowhere near confident—you’re terrified. You try to keep your cool, but it’s probably the first time you’re putting on an act in front of Izuku.

“Well, you’re not so bad at it yourself.” You don’t miss the little blush coating his cheeks at that. “Also, I’m not exactly naked.”

“You’re not exactly dressed either, that’s a...v-very small piece of clothing.” He’s blushing a bit harder, looking away.

“Oh, seems like you paid some attention to my piece of clothing then, good to know.”

Now he’s quite simply scarlet. A very cute, very hot, freckled tomato. He’s so easily flustered, it only makes you want to tease him some more.

“Were your legendary All Might boxers in the dirty hamper? That’s a shame. I’m a bit disappointed,” you say in a mockingly innocent voice.

He doesn’t retort, simply stands there on his knees, shooting you an unreadable look and a little pout. After a few seconds, you open your mouth to continue, only to be startled by a strong splash hitting you in the face.

When you snap out of your shock, hair and face dripping all over your shoulders, you look up at him with what must be the scariest look of betrayal. Or the most ridiculous, apparently, since he starts laughing, louder and louder, and can’t seem to stop.

“Oh, you’re pretty pleased with yourself right now, aren’t you?” You can’t help but chuckle while talking, his laugh is so contagious.

“I am, yeah!” he manages to articulate, only starting to calm down.

As the calm of the forest returns, you watch his eyes go back to their usual round shape bit by bit, his face relaxing again. His smile causes butterflies to fly up and around in a whirlwind deep into your belly. You chuckle a bit at the feeling, almost embarrassed by how he’s making you feel like you’re in some dumb, cliche rom-com movie. On the outside, you must look a bit like a maniac, but he’s a nice guy, so he simply asks, “What is it?”

And before you can overthink yourself out of it, you’re hurling yourself at him. He barely has the chance to stutter a weak, “Wait!” before you’re putting all your weight on him, sinking his head deep in the water. Izuku may well be a nice guy, but you know he isn’t going to let you get away with this, so you’re not surprised when you’re dragged underwater by your legs. He lets go immediately, a bit abruptly, even, like it burnt his hands to touch you.

You both emerge from the water soon, and it takes you a second to get rid of the water blurring your vision, but then it hits you. How tantalizingly close you are to each other now, your bodies an inch away from touching. You’re both on your knees, enveloped in the coolness of crystal clear water and the reflections of the canopy of leaves above your heads. A spark of electricity makes you freeze on the spot; you’re so close to him your breasts slightly brush against his chest.

After a little eternity, you find the courage to look up at his face. He looks mindblowing, really. Despite the two decades you spent together, you’re not sure you’ve ever seen the pure, astonishing details of his freckles from this close. You would remember it, you definitely would. It’s a spectacular view, one of those visual memories that comes back to hit you in flashes. His nose and cheekbones are covered in them, drawing a mesmerizing pattern, more complex than the Milky Way itself. They’re an uncrackable equation, like a weird quirk of nature that you’ll never understand but don’t question anyway. They spread a little more scattered, but still very present, up to his forehead and down to his delicate jaw.

And his eyes—you could just drown in them. There’s this bright, blinding light there that feels like laying in the grass and looking up at the sunlight coating the leaves of this tree, the one you grew up near and always played under.

You swear you didn’t move, neither did he, and still you manage to get even closer to him. Now it’s you against the inexorable attraction that pulls you towards him like a fierce magnet. And it’s a losing battle, you think, as you’re both entering each other’s personal space like you share just one.

There’s nothing friendly about the way he can’t look you in the eye, seemingly too obsessed with your lips. You drop your gaze to his and find them calling for you. It’s been so long, now the thought of kissing Izuku seems unfamiliar despite being ever-present in your imagination for so many years. Like repeating a word so much it ends up becoming a series of meaningless sounds to your confused mind.

He’s the one who finally closes the distance, his lips landing on yours so softly you can barely feel them. He doesn’t move, simply content with the contact. You’re both eight years old again for a minute. The kiss feels like the little peck a kid would finally give to his crush in the middle of their school’s playground before running away to his friends.

Time seems to stop for God knows how long, and after what feels like no time and forever all at once, his lips move hesitantly against yours, bringing you back to reality. Right then, it all crashes on you like a tremendous wave. The distant echo of your mothers’ voices from the kitchen and the stupid cartoons they made you watch so they could talk for ten more minutes. The games alone together because no one wanted to play with you two weirdos. The piggyback rides, the dumb jokes, the video games (you always won). The neverending texting sessions at night because one of you couldn’t sleep. The fights that never lasted long enough to see the next sunrise because you both are way too weak for each other. All those stupid places that wouldn’t have looked half as breathtaking if it weren’t for him.

His lips are soft but roughly bitten. Hot and wet from the water and maybe from something else. He doesn’t taste like anything other than home, and that’s more than enough for you. His hands went up to cup your face at some point, but you’re too drowned in all the feelings coming up to the surface to pay attention to anything other than his soft mouth pressing on yours, more and more, opening up—

And it’s already over. You only notice that you’ve closed your eyes when you open them again when you don’t feel anything against your mouth other than the summer air. When your mind manages to regain any sense of function, the blurry focus of your gaze settles on his eyes. Wide open. Pupils eating up the dazzling viridian that puts the forest to shame. And a terrified expression in them.

He’s looking at you like he hurt you. His lips should still be on yours, kissing and sucking, not frozen like they are right now, obviously trying to express something painful as a few weak sounds pass their barrier before he finally manages to speak:

“Oh—Oh my God, I-I’m s—”

You don’t let him finish his stupid sentence. You don’t think twice before you take his face in your hands and lean in to kiss him again, with shameless intent this time. No more pretending—you’ve been waiting long enough for this and apparently, so has he.

It’s nothing gentle this time when your mouths crash against each other, teeth clashing and lips bruising under the weight of twenty years. You hold to his face like a lifeline, fingers sinking just a bit into his cheekbones, the tip of your nails getting caught in the knots of his dripping hair just above his ears. It’s messy, your noses rubbing before he angles his face better. One of his hands loops around your waist in a tight grip, forcing your chest to crush against his, the other burying in your hair at the base of your skull.

The feeling is electrifying, indescribable. It’s nothing like the pale, miserable depiction of your imagination. It’s discovering life in color when all you’ve always known was black and white.

The water is cool, but his body scorches against yours, burns your skin in the most exquisite way. The kiss is desperate on both parts, but neither of you is confident. His lips suck on yours with tentative motions, and you respond in kind the best you can. They are hungry, starving for flesh but don’t know how to hunt.

Your hands are gripping more and more of his hair, pulling harder, sending waves of heat all the way down his groin, and he’s not sure he can hide the bulge growing there for much longer.

He has to be sure, he has to be absolutely certain you want this as much as he does, because once he starts, he may not be able to stop. But you feel so good, all pressed against him. Your skin feels so soft under his hand at the small of your back he has to dig his nails in the skin of your waist so he doesn’t cross a line. But the curve just above your ass is begging for him to grip at the tender flesh and squeeze, fill his hands with it. He’s been dreaming about this for so long.

No, he can’t just hurl himself at you like a hunting wolf the first chance he gets—what kind of friend does that?

It takes him every bit of focus he has left to break the kiss, to part away from you. You have to discuss this, he can’t just throw away twenty years of friendship! Now you’re looking up at him with puppy eyes saying, ‘Why won’t you play with me?’ He breathes out a shaky sigh, and begins:

“Um, look. Believe me when I say I’ve wanted this for a very, very long time, and I love you so, so much. As a friend, I mean.” He sees you frown at this, catches a glint of something he doesn’t like in your eyes, then panics. “No, no, no, I mean, a-as a friend, but also more than that, o-obviously. But I don’t know what you want, you might be...d-disappointed, or...um—” His face starts heating up like it hasn’t in ages. He takes another breath, tries to clear up the muddled mess happening in his head. “Look, I just want the best for you, but you look...good, very good, and you’re making things very difficult for me, doing...this—”

“Izuku.” The deafening hubbub filling his mind falls suddenly silent, your voice a comforting, steady rock for him to cling to when his mind is storming out of control.

“Yeah?”

You get even closer to him, since he gradually set some distance while mumbling his anxious thoughts out again. You cup his face in your hands, a gentle, featherlight touch, and look up at him with determination in your eyes. You pull his head down a bit to settle on yours, your foreheads and noses connected, never breaking eye contact. Your lips graze over his, both your breaths mixing there, your voice a quiet whisper as you speak again. “Do you want me?”

Out of the jittery mess of his mind, the answer comes out like evidence, plain and simple: “Yes.”

“Then shut up and kiss me.”

You take action immediately, kissing him once again and this time he doesn’t hesitate to put his—still rather shaky—hands on you. The feeling of you is addicting, pushing his insecurities further in the back of his mind. He starts at your waist, running his thumbs there, feeling the goosebumps rising on your skin. They wander up your spine, counting every single bump of your bones, all the way to your nape. Then dragging them back down to settle on your hips, his fingers digging in the soft flesh. The little sigh you breathe on his lips causes an impressive amount of blood to run straight to his dick.

Your mouth is distracting, dizzying, sucking on his bottom lip, nipping playfully. His tongue slides over your lips, then against your own when you open up immediately for him. You’re pressing against him even more, your breasts rubbing against his naked chest and he swears you’re going to be the death of him. You’re hanging from his shoulders by now, your arms circling his neck, still gripping a handful of green hair, pulling. You have to stop doing this—he might cum right away. He doesn’t say it aloud, only lets a moan escape him into your mouth.

He wanted this, wanted this for so long, and now that it’s real, it’s beyond everything he could have imagined. The heat of your skin, the weight on his shoulders as you cling to him, your breath in his mouth, your little sighs.

He’s only now noticing that his hands have gone to reach their destination with a mind of their own. They’re on your ass underwater, feeling the white, wet lace, the sole cloth on your entire body—that thing is just there to tempt him. He’s unsure if you like what he’s doing until you release a whimper, louder this time, enough to send a vibration against his mouth (and straight to his cock at the same time).

Suddenly, he wants to taste a lot more of you. You’re all open up to him for the first time—he has to. He trails a series of open-mouthed kisses from the corner of your mouth to your jaw, savoring every little sigh escaping your lips, then to your neck, dragging his tongue up the column of your throat.

The water is fresh all over you, and he doesn’t miss the shivers running up and down your skin at the contact of the twilight breeze. He needs to warm you up, needs to make you feel good, needs everything to be perfect for you. With his hands still on your ass, he trails lower down to your collarbone, allowing some occasional nips on the way that have you shaking. He freezes, looking up at you from there.

“Is this okay?”

The answer comes out breathy, a little desperate: “Yes, yes, please!” It sends a wave of heat all over him, the way you like what he’s doing to you, the way he’s making you feel good.

He’s not experienced or anything, only had a few hookups a couple of times, so he’s not very confident in his capacities, aside from running his hands all over you because that’s how his instincts are manifesting. You know him better than anyone—of course you would know how lost he could be in this kind of situation. But he also knows you’re not much more experienced than him, and that thought is comforting.

He’s experienced in one thing, though. He feels like the worst, filthiest person on the planet for this, but it’s astonishing the number of times he jerked off to the thought of what’s happening right now. How many times did he fuck his hand in the shower thinking about the water trickling down your skin, about licking it off your breasts all the way up to your neck.

So he does what he’s been dying to do for years. your breasts are just above the surface, so he sits on his heels and licks down your chest. When his tongue finally reaches your nipple, giving it a tentative lick, you let out a gasp, encouraging him to get bolder. And he does, closing his mouth on it like it’s the sweetest lollipop; it’s all cold and hard and raised from the water, but it warms up really quickly against the furnace of his mouth. His right hand leaves your ass to cup the neglected other, running his thumb against the bud, squeezing the flesh. That’s when you reach out to bury a hand in his hair, and pull again. God, you can pull on his hair all day and night like this; he’ll never get enough.

His left hand, still on your ass, rises up to the small of your back, feeling you arching more and more, pushing against his mouth. A harder nip has you gasping and he lets his hands run all over you, wandering without direction. It’s messy and urgent; he can’t help it—you feel so good, so soft under his hands. He’s like a kid getting to open his Christmas gifts in the morning after an endless, sleepless night waiting for Santa.

You trail your hand down his chest and his abdomen, a gentle reminder that the power he holds right now could slip through his fingers any moment. He’s willing to give it to you, especially since he doesn’t really know what to do next.

Like you just read his mind, you take his hands in yours, stopping their chaotic race. He’s feeling himself flush a bit—was he going too fast for you? Did he scare you? Or did he just let himself become overwhelmed by his feelings and it didn’t feel good for you? His eyes are looking down directly at your naked chest, he realizes he never took a proper look at them, too busy throwing himself to taste them. They look just as good as they taste, as beautiful as the rest of you.

Tentatively, he raises his eyes to find your reassuring gaze and fond smile. You lead his hands down slowly, setting them on your hips, over the criminal lace fabric preserving your modesty. Your foreheads connect again, but you never break eye contact. Lacing your fingers together, you guide his thumbs into the elastic on both sides, and now that he gets what you’re trying to do, his mind just stops.

Your voice is barely a whisper, a mesmerizing caress on his lips when you speak again. “I think I’ve waited long enough, Zuku.”

Your tone is fond, but you sound so desperate, it’s unbearably cute. His mind fogs up, the smoke of your words filling his skull and he wants to drive you as mad as you drive him. Sure, you’ve waited a lot, but so has he. He isn’t going to rush this, not if he has any say in it.

He slides your panties down your thighs underwater inch by inch. It’s even too slow for him; right now he just wants to rip the stupid piece of lace off of you and fuck you and him both stupid in the water, hard and fast. But even more than that, he wants to take his time with you, wants to take you apart piece by piece. And the testy whine it elicits from you makes it all so worth it.

You shift a bit so he can take your underwear completely off and, in a second, it lays abandoned on the sandy ground of the shore. Just knowing you’re now completely naked in front of him, it sends boiling desire flowing through every single vein in his body. He can’t see that part of you yet, the water darkening along with the sky clouding his view beneath the surface, but nightfall can’t do anything about Izuku’s wild imagination. He’s dizzy, feeling himself slowly falling into a half-conscious daze, but you anchor him right where you are, bringing him back to the reality of your arms hooked around his neck.

He rests his hands on your hips, dragging his fingertips down the soft flesh of them. The idea of touching you down there is making his head spin, he can’t wait any longer.

“Can I—”

“Yes, I want your fingers inside me,” you say before driving your lips back against his.

Without further ado, one of them goes straight to your core, making you jump a bit, breaking the kiss just for a second. He runs his index between your folds, feeling hot slick already coming out of you despite the fresh water around. His touch is light, slow, hesitant as it glides up and down, testing the waters. He’s getting a bit further, putting a bit more pressure with every stroke and earning a few pleased sighs from your heavenly mouth.

He expected a sudden reaction as soon as he found your clit, but that doesn’t mean he was prepared for the drawn-out moan coming out of your gorgeous lips, wet from his mouth and from your dip earlier. He wants to hear that again, every day for the rest of his life. He drags his thumb over it, again and again, slow at first, but then quicker and quicker, and your voice grows louder with every speed-up of his finger.

Your hands go frantic over him, running up his chest and down his abs in repeated motions that feel a lot like it’s lust driving your limbs much more than your mind. You stopped kissing him at some point, your mouth too busy expressing every ounce of pleasure you felt to focus on such basic motions. Your face is buried in his neck, your hot breath crushing against his skin.

He presses his index inside, but he’s so focused on what he’s doing, trying not to hurt you, that he doesn’t notice the shift of your own hand leaning down until he feels it cupping the painful bulge in his boxers. His eyes go wide with a gasp, and when he looks at you, you already have a playful, but intense, gaze piercing right through him.

“Did you think I was gonna let you play all on your own, Zuku?” Your fingers graze over the soaked fabric, down his entire length and to his balls, throwing gasoline on the fire that’s been consuming him for ages. “Don’t be selfish,” you whisper directly in his ear as your hands slip his underwear down his thighs.

As soon as the piece of cloth gets to join your forgotten panties on the shore, you wrap your pretty hand around him. And when you start stroking, his eyes roll so hard he swears he can see the inside of his skull. It feels better than he ever could have imagined; it’s blistering, astonishing. The only idea his brain can manage to work out right now is that he wants you to feel just as good.

He only notices now that his fingers stopped moving, and they go right back to a steady pace, but it’s a matter of seconds before he drives another finger into you. Soon, you’re both fucking the life out of each other with your hands. You’re sucking and nipping at his ear, and every single moan he draws out of you ends up turning against him, breaking into the defenses he built year after year by your side. He’s simply fucking into your hand now. He can’t help it, you feel so good. He doesn’t even want to think about what it’s going to feel like to fuck into your tight little cunt, he might cum hard just from the thought of it.

The spongy spot he finds inside you feels like he just struck gold. It’s glorious, the sounds you make right now, higher, louder. You’re tightening around his fingers, but it’s okay—you can crush them for all he cares. He wants you to moan higher for him, wants you to keep riding his fingers like your life depends on it.

“Izuku, ah—I’m close, I’m so close, please…”

“I got you, baby. I got you, shit—”

He quickens the pace again, feels like his fingers are gonna fall off his hand the moment he gets them out of you, but fuck, what his princess wants, his princess is gonna get. Your orgasms shatter the both of you to pieces, and in the bliss of his high, he can hear some birds flying away, scared by the harmonious, but probably very loud, song of your combined moans.

While his cum strikes out by ropes into the water, his clouded mind can only think about one thing.

He needs more of you.

You can barely stand on your knees, worn out from cumming the hardest you have in your entire life. You actually have to lean on Izuku so you don’t fall into the water head first like some boneless ragdoll. You just let your forehead rest on his shoulder and count the freckles there, splattered in a fascinating work of abstraction.

But apparently, he has other plans. You’re swiftly lifted up and out of the water, huge scarred hands firmly holding the back of your thighs that immediately come to circle his waist.

“Oh, nice. I don’t mind getting carried around like a baby. Where are we going?”

“Not far,” he says with a little grin, walking out of the water. “Do you think you’ll be able to walk?” His voice holds a sarcastic tone, one you’re not used to hearing out of Izuku’s angel mouth.

“I think I can manage, yeah.”

He drops you to stand on your legs, and immediately goes for his backpack. The sun has just set, its last rays of light filling the pink sky over your heads. You can still easily make out everything around you, and Izuku’s body is no exception.

You’re watching him with a raised eyebrow, letting your shameless gaze follow every curve you couldn’t see underwater. The day he started exercising in high school was the day you knew it was over for you. It was the day you couldn’t deny what you felt anymore, you couldn’t deny your best friend was everything you needed, and everything you wished for. The physical factor was only a—very pleasant— addition to the list of things that made you fall hard for Izuku Midoriya.

Your eyes linger over his impressive figure, staring at the dimples at the small of his back. You always knew they were here, but you never allowed yourself to look at them, to imagine how they would grow repeatedly hollow with every thrust of his hips into you.

He finally digs out what he was looking for: a plaid picnic blanket, because of course he would have one in there. He’s wearing a little victorious smile when he stands and turns around to spread it on a grassy spot that looks a lot more comfortable than the hard ground. He turns back to you but averts his gaze to the side, hardly looking directly at you for more than a second at a time. The heat of his gaze tracing your curves through quick glances pools deep in your core.

“You know you can look, right?” You sure aren’t refraining from doing so after all.

His face reaches its usual redness—hasn’t he learned anything from making you cum like crazy with just his fingers? It’s cute nonetheless; Izuku will never change.

He doesn’t answer your rhetorical question, only gives you a shy command in that tentative, very cute voice of his.

“Could you lay down on this for me?”

You saw this coming, but still, you’re a bit surprised he’s asking you that out loud. You gladly oblige with your legs pressed together, slightly bent. It’s another golden opportunity to tease him a bit:. “This isn’t exactly the right use for this blanket. Aren’t we supposed to eat on this?”

He smiles at the ground while kneeling at your feet.

“Maybe that’s exactly what I’m planning to do.”

Your sly smile fades away. His tone is a contradictory mix of shyness and determination, so it’s a bit confusing but also unbearably hot—you swear an astounding wave of heat is crashing through your deepest parts, untouched, just from some words and a funny tone. You rub your thighs together before he grabs and parts them to slip himself between them.

He crawls over you and leans down to kiss you, a bit more confident than earlier. His hips are pressing between your legs, where you can feel his hardness best.

He’s rutting more and more against you as the kiss intensifies. You could think it’d be a lot less exciting now that you know he’s going to eat you out, there’d be no suspense. Wrong. The little shit apparently likes to tease you to death, because he left your lips to kiss your face, nip at your neck, suck at your ears. Dragging his devilish hands everywhere, pressing harder each time you get louder. An especially heavy whine makes him buck hard, his mouth back against yours.

“The more impatient you get, the slower it’s gonna be,” he murmurs against your lips, and starts to make his way down to where you want him, kissing every inch of you, clouding your mind with desire. It’s way too much and still not enough; it’s maddening. When he finally reaches down, you’re on the verge of a second orgasm like you hadn’t just come down a few minutes ago.

He’s holding your thighs apart in a firm grip. Just the touch of his fingers burns your skin deliciously, and the look he’s giving you from between your legs...his eyes are clouded, half-lidded, looking at the part of you he’s never gotten to see before. It feels like he’s been looking forever and just a second at the same time.

He finally dips into you, leaving butterfly kisses all over your inner thighs, punctuated by little nips, nuzzling the soft skin. He’s not looking you in the eye anymore, his gaze lingering all over your body—all over except for your face. You can make out a slight blush on his cheeks despite the dimness all around. You know him better than anyone, so you immediately recognize what’s going on in his mind just from the slightest hint in his eyes. He looks like he’s fighting a battle against himself, his shyness against his hunger. And you know who you’re both rooting for.

He finally gives in, and it takes your breath away. A single, slight lick on your clit and you’re gone. And the next ones, more and more intense, more and more hungry, push you further to tumble over your edge. He grunts into your heat, multiple times. Moans like he’s the one squirming under your mouth.

His hands hold a firm grip on your hips, squeezing the flesh and keeping you in place—he doesn’t even give you an inch to move. You can only take and take and take. But you still have the luxury of your free hands, and they rush to bury in the knots of his messy wet curls, your nails dragging, scratching his scalp.

His lips close on your clit and suck just a bit, and before you can refrain, you pull on his hair, hard. He gasps, and the moment you think you hurt him, he breathes his loudest moan, right into you. You’re filled with the vibrations—they spread all over your body, have you throwing your head back, trembling from head to toe.

The louder you are, the hungrier he gets, filling you with his insatiable tongue. You have to look at him right now. And you expected quite a show, but you certainly weren't prepared to see this—him rutting against the ground like an animal. You realize he’s getting off just from your taste, just from eating you out. His hips roll repeatedly, making you salivate just to the thought of those same hips bucking into yours, fucking you into oblivion. And the more he ruts, the louder he gets.

Now if he wants to moan, you’re going to give him a good reason to.

You hint for him to face you with a light tug on his hair. As soon as he’s back up, he dives in to kiss you. You don’t let him. In a second he’s on his back with you seated on his hips.

“What did I say about letting you play on your own, hm?”

The ‘deer caught in headlights’ look is so cute on him. And the rest is a marvel to look at. You’re straddling him and he has no other choice than to let you devour him with your eyes—not that he couldn’t bounce you off of him with just a thrust of his hips, but he already would have if he wanted to. You let your gaze wander mindlessly over him—it’s surreal. There’s no way he’s actually under you, waiting for you to please him back with his mouth and jaw still shining with your juices. It has to be a dream—it’s always been after all.

You shift so you’re straddling his parted thighs. You can finally take a look at him. The whole thing, that is. His cock is resting against his lower stomach, hard and swollen and thick. It’s a pretty, bright pink, shining with pre-cum at the tip. Your mouth waters just at the sight of it.

He’s looking down at you, his face as flushed as his dick, that usual blush still exquisitely coating his freckles. You take him in your hand, dive in to give a lick to the tip and his head falls back down with a whimper. You let your tongue drag over the whole length on the underside, and your lips close around the tip in a wet smooch. His hips jerk up a bit, startling you.

You finally take him whole in your mouth, and you can feel his whole body tensing under you. You start bobbing up and down, going a bit further each time, earning a series of shameless moans because this boy is loud. You expected him to express himself during sex since he’s such a mumbler—and frankly, it was always one of your biggest fantasies, hearing him come undone because of you, lose any sense of shame and self-restriction when he’s such a anxious person otherwise.

But you could’ve thought about it every night and day and still never be ready for this. It’s sinful. His hand goes to grab your hair just like you did to him, and now you get why he liked it so much. The feel of his nails scratching your scalp is electrifying, soothing and destructive at the same time.

Your tongue hits a precise spot just under the tip and he jerks up again, nearly screams, “Fuck—yes, right there, please—d-do that again!”

And you do, you can only oblige—he asked so nicely. Your lips go up and down, over and over, your tongue grazing this spot with a bit more pressure every single time. You squint over him, and what you find there is a mess. Trying so hard not to buck into your mouth but failing miserably. Sounding like he’s at Heaven’s gate.

“Easy, Zuku. You’re gonna scare the birds away,” you chuckle against him, your lips brushing the tip, dripping with your saliva and pre-cum.

“Do I need to remind you…how loud you were for me earlier?” He’s looking back down at you as he speaks, a tremble in his voice telltale of his approaching climax. “You sounded...so good, baby, I swear...wanna hear you again, wanna make you scream, just for me, fuck—”

You can feel yourself soaking the blanket, can feel the slick trickle down your folds and stain the plaid cotton. Is he aware of what he’s doing? Or is he just saying whatever is going through his chaotic mind? In any case it has you starving. So you let go of his cock and, before he can protest, crawl back to his face and kiss him desperately. Tasting both of your fluids in a mindblowing mix.

You pull back just enough to be able to speak, because you need him to understand you loud and clear when you say: “Please, Izuku, I need you inside me, I’ve waited so long. Please.”

“Okay, okay, fuck—” He cuts himself off, his eyes slightly drooping like a sad puppy. “I-I don’t have any condoms.”

“You mean you probably have pads in there for me but no condoms?” you say with your eyebrows raised, your mocking tone hinting at a teasing remark, far from criticism.

He frowns in confusion. “How do you know I have pads in there?”

“So the legend turns out to be true. After all these years—”

“Shut up, you’re impossible,” he chuckles heatlessly, resting his hands on your back.

“It’s okay. I’m on the pill,” you assure him with a soft tone.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m pretty sure I’m on the pill, yeah.”

He rolls his eyes, then clarifies, a hint of hesitation clear in his voice.

“No I mean...you’re sure you wanna do this?” He marks a brief pause, takes a short breath. “With me?”

You don’t even think before answering, it slips your mouth like it’s not even your own words: “I don’t want it with anyone else.”

There’s a silence.

“Fuck, that sounds cheesy,” you scoff, looking away.

“It does, but we’re both cheesy idiots, apparently.”

You look back at him. His smile is so fond, so loving; it melts your heart in the best way.

“I wanna be your cheesy idiot,” you say against his mouth, looking right into his eyes, willing to fall in them.

“You always have been,” he nearly whispers. It fills your stomach with familiar warmth, intense and overwhelming, comforting.

There’s a bittersweet taste in your mouth, one of regret and lost time and God, we’re idiots.

Now it’s about time you make up for it all.

You look down at him, rolling your hips against him, dripping all over his cock, coating him in your juices.

“I think I asked you something, didn’t I?”

A whimper escapes him at the feeling. His hips buck up slightly, hands gripping at your back. When you do it again, you don’t get the chance to see his reaction; you’re on your back again, him towering over you, his thigh between your legs.

He’s looking at you with something in his eyes you don’t recognize, but the tone he speaks with has your entire body quaking.

“And you’re gonna get it, sweetheart.”

He holds himself over his left forearm, his hand thumbing at your cheek while the other strokes the whole length of your thigh. Your noses are brushing, your breaths crashing together. Your hands hold tight to his nape, playing with the short hair mindlessly as you’re waiting to be filled, finally.

You feel the stretch instantly. You try to focus on those mesmerizing emerald gems he calls eyes. They look right through your soul, eating you up and you barely feel the pain. He’s taking it slow, inch by inch, giving you all the time you need, caressing your cheek with a tender stroke of his thumb.

“Relax for me, baby.”

Izuku’s voice is a soothing sound over the incessant chirping of the grasshoppers. It was always one of your favorite things to hear, its every tone another blessing to your ears. It’s loving when he asks if you’re okay, comforting when he whispers sweet nothings to you as you cry on his shoulder, heartening when he’s going on about anything he’s passionate about.

He’s kissing every part of skin he has access to, over your face, your jaw, your neck. You feel yourself relaxing around him, and roll your hips up to give him the hint.

When he starts moving it’s still slow and careful. He doesn’t break eye contact, so you can see his every reaction, and he can see all yours. His hand is still playing with your hair, even as his pace speeds up with every second. The weight of him over you feels amazing, it holds him close against you, countless parts of you both rubbing together: your chests, your stomachs, your thighs. He doesn’t even have a lot of space to move. But getting to touch and get touched by him like this, it's incredible. You always had him so close to you, always right there and still so out of reach.

You still need more; you’re insatiable. You need to see him come undone under you, because of you. You push him to roll on his back, and you end up straddling him, setting the pace yourself. You start bouncing up and down on his cock, taking balance on the hard planes of his abs. He immediately reaches up to grab your hips, guiding you along.

His face tenses up, frowning, his nose wrinkling, his lips parted just to let out a series of breathy sighs. He looks wrecked and dizzy and stunning. He’s keeping his eyes open, fixed up on you, specifically on your breasts, bouncing with your every motion. And you can feel his gaze on your skin just as much as you feel his hands gripping harder at the flesh below your hips.

“Eyes up here, Zuku,” you coo with two fingers pointed at your eyes.

He doesn’t answer, only sits up easily and wraps his arms around your waist.

“You look so amazing, you have no idea what you do to me,” he says with a trembling voice, filled with bliss.

Your heart misses a beat at his words, they fill you with warmth and comfort because he definitely doesn’t have any idea what he’s doing to you. He delves his face into your neck, kissing and nuzzling, his breath coming shorter and shorter, crashing against your skin and his hands running all over you. The sound of his hoarse voice resonates through the forest and through your soul, echoing an enchanting song.

With little effort, he puts you back under him so he can pound into you with full force, and your legs immediately come up to wrap around his waist, pulling him deeper. Your hands grab his hair, tugging to see if you get the same reaction as earlier, and it doesn’t miss: he lets out a groan right into your ear, speeding up his pace again.

The sky is dark now, and all you can hear are his moans and yours and the slap of your hips coming together repeatedly. Your head is thrown back when he grabs you by the hair, forcing you to turn your head and face him.

“Look at me. I wanna see you.”

“Izuku, I’m gonna—”

“I know, baby. Let go for me, come on.”

Just the feel of his hand trailing down your stomach awakens something in you, this familiar pressure growing tight in your belly. And when his fingers reach your clit, a couple of strokes are enough to have you screaming his name, tightening around him, and pulling him towards his climax with you. His thrusts come franticly as you milk him dry, clawing desperately at his back, panting in his mouth as he leaned down to kiss you through both your climaxes.

As soon as he comes down, he rolls over on his side, still laying close to you, an arm thrown over you. You both take a minute to catch your breaths and, weirdly enough, you don’t hear anything aside from your panting. You really must have scared the birds away. Izuku breaks the silence first.

“Do you wanna...sleep at my place?”

He’s looking over at you and, despite the sky getting dark, you can easily imagine the blush coating his cheeks right now, like he didn’t make you scream his name, drunk on his cock two minutes ago.

You can’t repress your fond smile at his proposition.

“Yeah, let’s do that.”

You take a minute to gather your clothes from all over the place and get dressed, then grab your bag to tug it over your shoulder.

“You got everything?”

Izuku is waiting for you just outside the trees. You take a quick look around, making sure you haven’t forgotten anything, and turn around without a second look at the place.

Because although it was your first time setting foot here, it definitely won’t be the last; you will come back here with Izuku every chance you get, making it your shared secret, your own little wonderland.

You gladly take the hand he’s offering, making him blush a little harder, and you head straight back into the forest together.

You walk side by side as a comfortable silence settles, only disturbed by the grasshoppers’ incessant, boisterous chirping. The sky is utterly dark now, you can make out a few stars shining above the dense trees. You walk at a steady pace, but Izuku is going a bit faster with every step. Soon enough, he’s walking a bit ahead of you, still holding your hand. Another golden occasion to tease his eagerness.

“Are we in a hurry, Zuku?”

In the dark of the night, you struggle to make out the look on his face as he turns around to look at you. A second later, he’s running, and with your hand firmly held in his, you can’t do much but try to follow along. You giggle as you run, and it quickly grows into a belly-deep laughter. He’s fast, doesn’t get tired, but you follow him anyway, probably as eager as he is. You have to zig-zag so you don’t run straight into the massive trees standing in your way.

You get to the car in no time, but you’re both out of breath when you finally get in your respective seats, ready to go home.

Izuku doesn’t even wait to catch his breath before he starts the car, the engine roaring loudly in the silence of the night, probably scaring the birds away for the upteenth time that night. You catch his happy grin in the headlights glow before he heads back into the road.

You have a feeling the night is not over; you’ve only got twenty years to make up for after all.

#bnha smut #deku smut #deku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #bnha x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya smut #mha smut #there it is omg it's long af #weasel writes

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thefanficmonster · 4 years ago

Text

My Kind

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warning: Swearing

Genre: Fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Having been chosen by the gang to be a guest streamer on today’s stream of Among Us, it’s safe to say Y/N’s super excited but also a bit nervous. The whole of her anxiety gets lifted off her when she meets someone with the exact same vibe as hers - yeah you guessed it.

Requested by @monizzle96 Hi dear! Thank you so much for your wonderful request! I’m so terribly sorry it’s taken me so long to write and post it but here it finally is! I hope you come across it and read it and if so I hope you enjoy it! Love, Vy ❤

This has to be the fiftieth time I’ve checked my setup in the past twenty four hours. But no, I’m definitely not nervous, what are you talking about. Pshhh. Nah, being nervous isn’t in my brand. Plus, what do I have to make me nervous - a group of famous streamers inviting me onto their stream to play Among Us with them because they enjoyed my own streams? Ok yeah, that’s a pretty good reason. Not gonna lie, I almost chucked my phone out of excitement when I received that DM from Toast, telling me they’d picked me to be their guest streamer for today’s date. My stomach was doing somersaults for a good forty-eight hours following that text and then the anxiety slowly started setting in fueled by the expectations they probably have of me.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not inexperienced in the streaming field, I’ve been a streamer longer than some of the members of Toast’s streamer gang actually. But I never managed to garner that big of a following which I’m honestly quite ok with. I have a modest - ok, maybe larger than modest - following consisting of incredibly loyal fans which I will never stop being grateful for. They are all so respectable of me, my privacy and my boundaries. They know the main rules: no shit-talking in the chat or in any of my comment sections, no bashing other YouTubers in my comments/chat, and most definitely not asking for a face reveal. Fun fact: I didn’t even set up that last rule, they all just collectively know not to ask for it.

I’ve been keeping my brand pretty low-key to avoid garnering some unwanted attention - some of which I’ve already experienced on certain social media platforms following the full body pictures I posted on there - face not visible of course. I tend to also have my webcam on, facing towards my hands working away on the keyboard sometimes when I stream. I don’t know why people obsess over faceless content creators’ hands, but I appreciate the enthusiasm - it also drives me to do a manicure every now and then which ain’t so bad, self-care and all that you know.

Now, back to the subject of my ridiculous nervousness.

You see, it has layers.

I’m nervous of ‘preforming’ underwhelmingly and I’m nervous of what my own fans will think of the person I will become during this stream. They know me as a super chill and laid-back person, which I am by the way, but they might think I’m putting on a show if I exhibit any nervous gestures/vocabulary. I highly doubt they would, but the possibility is not letting my mind rest. And now that it’s about ten minutes till the stream starts, I’m getting doing my best to calm my nerves.

They are all just people. You know they are super chill too. Just be yourself, that’s why they invited you, because you are yourself on all your streams. They liked you for your personality, humor, maybe even your gaming skills. So chill the hell out and be yourself, damn it!

Easier thought than put into action that’s for sure.

I start my stream five minutes early just so I can vibe with my viewers for a little while before I have to meet the gang. My fans always have a way of injecting me with confidence, they remind me of where I was when I started and how far I’ve come. How much I achieved when I thought I’d be nothing and no one, someone the algorithm would simply overlook. But then they entered my life and I entered theirs and it all became much better than I ever thought it would get to be. I rarely tell myself ‘good job’ for the milestones I’ve reached or the hard work I’ve put into my content, but that’s probably cause I orient myself based on that quote from the movie Whiplash: ‘There are no two words in the English language more harmful than good job’ - simply put, I’m never satisfied with what I do and I always strive to do better. My fans, however, make sure I don’t go overboard with it - always serving as a reminder that I’ve done plenty for myself and others. And that’s what makes an amazing fandom, one I consider family.

Whoa, when did those five minutes fly by?!

Ah shit, here we go. Deep breaths, Y/N you got this.

“Hello!“ I say as I enter the Discord call, subconsciously biting my lower lip, grateful the camera isn’t capturing it. However, I make a mental note to keep my hands steady cause that’s the one part of me people can actually see and the last thing I want is for them to see how much my fingers are trembling.

“Oh hi, Y/N!“ Toast is the first one to greet me, “Welcome to the stream! Thank you so much for accepting our invitation.“

“Thank you for having me and inviting me, Toast. This is a huge deal for me. You guys are basically YouTube legends, this is unreal to me.“ I reply, cringing immediately afterwards because of my fangirl rambling. Great way to make first impressions, Y/N. Bravo.

To be fair, they already have an impression of you. Quit stressing.

Aright, you’ve got a point, me.

“Oh please, we owe all that to our fans. We’re really nothing special. All streamers are almost completely alike, we all owe where we are to the people who helped us make it there - our fans. We’re no legends.“ Toast says, bringing a small smile to my face as well as a light pink blush to my cheeks, “And from what I’ve seen, you yourself have quite the following. And your fans seem to adore you.“

“And I absolutely adore them.“ I chuckle, “They mean the world to me. They are the reason I’m here today.”

“Then we have to give them a special thank you, don’t you think?“ The teasing, familiar giggle, widens my smile - it’s Rae, “Nice to meet you, Y/N! I’m Rae, and, no cap, I’m quite a fan of your content. No joke, I binged your entire series of Resident Evil 7 as soon as I found your channel when Toast said he’d invite you.“

This rattles me a bit. I can hardly believe it - am I really receiving a compliment from an A-list name in the streaming world? My fans must be hella proud of me right now. A quick glance at my chat confirms that they indeed are. That in and of itself fills me with joy and newfound confidence.

“Oh Gosh, thank you so much Rae! That means the world to me. You’re all so sweet.“ I reply, lifting my ice cold hands to cool down my burning cheeks, my lips spread into a grin, my stomach filled with butterflies.

“Oh please, we have some real savages around here.“ A male voice, seemingly Charlie’s scoffs, “Don’t overlook us please.“

“Wait, we do?“ A deep voice, one I immediately know the owner of speaks up, “Who? How come I don’t know about that?“

I can’t help bust snort, “Nice to meet you, Corpse. Sarcasm central, I see.”

He laughs, “Just returning it to where it’s due. Nice to meet you too, Y/N. Sick Outlast series, by the way.“

Ok, wait, I have two A-list streamers complimenting my content. Ok, I’m bound to crack open a few beers to celebrate later cause OH MY GOD.

“Thanks! I’m a horror junkie so I’d be lying if I said I haven’t binge watched all your story-times. Personal favorites are the deep web ones, they fascinate me.“

“Oh, you’re one of my kind even more than I expected, huh?“ He replies, the tone of his voice changing, raising a bit due to what I can only describe as excitement and enthusiasm. “I’ve had people tell me it’s twisted, but I really like seeing the lengths to which the fucked up human mind can go to. Like, the shit I’ve read is insane! Some stories I didn’t narrate cause I would’ve probably had my video taken down, it was that messed up.“

My eyes widen, sharing the same excitement at the thought of digging deeper into this phenomenon, “Careful, Corpse, you’re walking a dangerous line of tempting me to deep-dive on Reddit in search of those exact stories.”

“No need.“ Corpse says, his tone now taking up a bit of a cocky note, “I still got them all saved, I can send them to you no problem.“

“Please do! I seriously gotta read them now. If I can’t sleep afterwards, I’m blaming you, Corpse. Just FYI.“ I say, giggling slightly, finding myself all but completely comfortable now. I wonder where all that anxiety went?

“Blame fully taken. Given that I’m not much of a sleeper, I’ll keep you company whenever you think there’s a killer hiding in your closet or fear a red room pop-up will appear on your computer screen.“ He replies, chuckling.

“Um, that’s oddly specific.“ Charlie comments, “Been there yourself, buddy?”

“Perhaps.“ Corpse wheezes, getting a laugh out of me too, “I will neither confirm nor deny.“

“You know what, I’ll just private message you my number so if you see it call you at some ungodly hour, you don’t freak the fuck out. Sounds good?“ I ask, already prepping to type it out and send it to him.

“Perfect. Wait...“ he pauses for a second, sounding puzzled for a second, “You don’t have mine.“

“Oh, do I not?“ I reply with a sinister tone - thought to answer the question, I of course don’t have his number.

“Oh, do you?“ He sasses me right back. “If so then you don’t need me to send it to you. Cool.��

Ah, shit

“Wait, no! I-I need to confirm it’s the correct one!“

Damn, never did I think I’d be complimented by some of the most important streamers on this platform, but to get a number of theirs too? That’s a whole another level that will take me time to process. But I’ll do that another time, right now, I have to kick these people’s butts in Among Us and later I have some deep web stories to read.

Turns out, all it takes to get comfortable in a new surrounding is someone of your kind. And Corpse is definitely one of my kind.

@maat-the-prescriptive @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @itsminniekat @hacker-ghost @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios @maehemscorpyus @loraleiix @letsloveimagines @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help @enigmaticmaze @divine-artemis @waterlilypat @idontknowwhatthisisfam @evi-ka @classyandfabulous00 @redperson58 @lilysdaydreams @solowheein @mythicalamphitrite @axen-gers @luckygirl144 @nj01 @buddyemily @the-albino-lioness @stardream14 @gdhdkfnn @nomadicgypsyy @preciousskye @fluffysuicideunicornsworld @o-kaelin @manacharlotte @awkward-youtube-trash @lolalee24 @bonky-beerns @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian @strawbrinkofdeath @teenloves @tams0527 @browneyespinkhair @starstruckllamapuppy @daisychains012 @y0ulooked @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life @jula-pauline @melodykitty @just-that-bi-girl @crazybutconfidentaf @lowellshade @alphakees @bellero @weallneednamjesus @starryhanji @boiled-onionrings @husherstan @fockingwhore @melaningoddessthings @prettypastelpetals @haleypearce @godwhyamiawkward @y-napotat @daisychainyoonmin @little-miss-rebel3 @free-wheelin-bi-sexual @redmoon261 @darkacademic2 @wiseflamingoqueen @into-the-end @namikhai-i @nastiablr @thelittleplantlover @mirktuan @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny @vintagegothlover @easygoingtheatre @itsrandombooklover @miiaivi @emmybaybee @befourgolden @jjk-is-my-shit @eternalteaaars @spacebadgerx @princesslunalight @acequinn14 @samm48 @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa @fo-love @marishimomura-blog @therealglenncoco @cinnamonbun332 @killtherandomness @sanshinexxxsan @fee-btheweeb @press-lay @cathleenpotgieter16 @jazzydoesstuff @moonlxghtbay @forestrain2000 @hyunjinhugs @blood-of-fandoms @lovellylies @ukiyolixx @simpforhpcharacters @chrisdylan17 @parkerjisung @pedernille @theodonyous @wineandionysus @malfoystilinskii05 @morbid-x @coryisagee @jessewa26 @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365 @raeanneinwonderland @indecisive-empanada @gluttonypalace @loriane2503 @btsiguess-kpop @khaoticbunny @lucidlycactus @smiithys @rottenroyalebooks @kpopgirlbtssvt @fangirl-tc27 @fr0z3n-1 @notmesimpingfortechno @shotarosleftpinky @kunoi-chan @idk-whats-wrong-with-me @yikeroonie @goldenstarofthunderclan @poetry-and-tea @ama-do-writing-stuff @wishbonewolf @emeraldxhope @t0xick1tty @kusuinko @speakyourselfloveyourself @sophia902103 @lo-manburg @classsykittykat @dmgama @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee @btsiguess-kpop @akaashi-baby @gun-jong-simp @geschichtenfee @yerapotato-wp @browneyedgirl365 @thysagclub @sparklycloudnight @helloatomicshadow @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal @lucy-bunny17 @aaliyahh0 @katluckybear @boyleanti @straybids @franchesca-791 @cosmicstorm19 @averyisbackinthetrashcan @aomi-nabi @xlanawriter @allensimpsforcorpse

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 4 years ago

Text

Want of a Spider

Prompt: Just reread unwanted and God I forgot how good it was also if it was a book I would buy so many copies of it also could we get a oneshot of mabye a few years later after everything happened to see how the boys are doing I just want to see them happy together

Ah, yes, don’t we all?

Read on Ao3

(Un)Wanted Masterlist

Warnings: implied/referenced panic attacks, nothing too severe, shapeshifting

Pairings: LAMP, DLAMP, DLAMPR

Word Count: 6888

A child runs to a garden.

Five fae take the child as their own.

Slowly, the child grows into something new.

Set after the events of (Un)Wanted.

It starts slow.

Slow enough that at first, Virgil’s not even sure it’s happening. The garden is…weird, to put it mildly, and it’s not like living with a bunch of fae is going to give anyone a baseline for what’s normal.

He’s just finished baking a new batch of bread with Patton. Patton’s room smells amazing, the bread looks warm and soft and part of Virgil—a part that Roman and Janus have been slowly encouraging to speak up more—wants to grab it and rip a hunk off with his teeth, temperature be damned.

Part of him would rather not have a burned tongue for the rest of the day, thank you very much. Then he won’t be able to actually enjoy the rest of the bread, just the too-sore feeling of his tongue and the roof of his mouth.

…and part of him still doesn’t know how to eat properly. Or that it’s okay to want to eat.

Patton must catch that last thought buzzing around because he looks over with a frown, reaching out to pinch the offending buzzing thing out of the air and squash it, rubbing his fingertips together until it poofs and disintegrates. The accompanying bubble of relief works its way through Virgil’s chest.

“Thank you.”

“Of course, kiddo, that seemed like a nasty one.” Patton finishes drying his hands off and surveys their handiwork. “Well! That went well.”

Virgil snorts. “Ah, yes, I forget that throwing flour at whoever you’re baking with is always important.”

“Don’t you look at me, you started it!” Patton points his finger at him. “You’re the one who threw it at me first.”

Virgil blinks. “You bumped me while I was trying to measure it out.”

“I did.” Patton nods. “And then you bumped me back.”

“Yes. Bumped. I didn’t throw it at you.”

“You did, however, decide to wipe it off my face without getting the rest of it off your own.”

“Because you threw it at me!”

Patton throws his head back and laughs, which of course makes Virgil laugh too because have you not seen his face when he laughs you try keeping a straight face. The memory of the two of them absolutely covered in flour, barely any of it in the bowl where it was supposed to go, is enough to make him scrub his hands through his hair to make sure that yes, he did in fact get all of it out.

“Oh, I haven’t laughed that hard in a while,” Patton murmurs as their giggles slow, shaking his head and going for the plates, “but I think that’s given the bread enough time to cool off.”

“Does that mean we should call the others?”

“If you want to.”

Virgil closes his eyes and reaches, searching for the tether in his chest. It takes a few pokes and prods but eventually he feels something warm and pushes.

“Hello, yes, hi, I heard something about fresh bread?” Roman pops up first, giving Virgil a gentle squeeze.

“Don’t start without me!”

“Hey!”

Virgil giggles as Remus drops straight onto Roman, almost knocking them both to the ground. He hears an exasperated sigh behind him and turns, seeing Logan shake his head at the twins.

“You would think,” he mutters to Virgil, “the two of them would develop a little more sense of spatial awareness after the first…oh, ten times they’ve knocked things over.”

“I don’t think they’ve ever had to.”

“You’re right.” Logan shakes his head again and turns to Patton. “It smells delicious, you two, congratulations.”

“You haven’t tasted it yet,” Patton reminds, “we have to wait for—“

“Fuck.”

Virgil holds a hand to his chest as Janus chuckles, having appeared out of fucking nowhere just behind him as he turned to see where the snake was. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly as Janus rubs a circle between his shoulder blades.

“Sorry, little mouse,” Janus murmurs, just loud enough for him to hear, “I didn’t mean to startle you so badly.”

“It’s fine.” He leans into the touch for a moment longer. “I, uh, I know you didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Never, little mouse, you have my word.”

“Thanks.”

“Remus, I swear—“

“Just let me go and it’ll be fine!”

“Kiddos,” Patton scolds, all but prying the twins apart, “if you don’t stop fighting, there won’t be any bread left for you.”

Virgil has to stifle a chuckle at how fast the two of them break apart, sitting and folding their hands in their laps to patiently wait for their bread. Judging by the way Janus presses a little closer behind him, he knows what’s going to happen before Patton turns to him.

“Virgil? Would you like to do the honors?”

“Uh, sure.” Virgil takes the bread knife hesitantly and examines the loaf. It looks too pretty to cut…but it smells incredible. “How—uh, how much does everyone want?”

“If you let them,” Logan says wryly, “they’ll eat the whole loaf. Take what you want first.”

“Will not!”

“You, you absolutely will.”

“Hey!”

The knife hits the cutting board with a soft tap, the slice falling neatly onto the plate. Patton takes the knife when Virgil offers it, taking over the slicing as Virgil scoots around the edge of the counter to sit with his slice.

It looks so..perfect. And as he lifts it up and bites into it—

Yeah, he could eat this for the rest of his life and be happy.

Judging by the way the rest of them devour the loaf, they agree.

“You did wonderfully,” Logan murmurs amidst the smatterings of compliments, “this is delicious.”

“Thanks.”

“You must remind Patton to make this again with you, it tastes much better.”

When he doesn’t answer right away, Logan glances up, smiling when he catches sight of his red cheeks. Leaning closer, he places his chin on Virgil’s shoulder and turns to whisper:

“Don’t let Roman see that if you don’t want to blush any harder.”

Now that right there is a very good point. In an effort to hide it, he takes another bite of the bread, only to frown when something’s different.

Logan seems to notice and tilts his head. “Is there something wrong? Does it taste strange?”

Virgil opens and closes his mouth a few times. “It feels gummy.”

“Really?” Logan has another bit of his own. “It doesn’t taste that way to me, perhaps…?”

“Here, try mine.”

“…no, it still tastes the same. Have you had something to drink recently?”

“Not as recently as I probably should.” Before he can blink, Logan’s holding out a glass of water. “Oh. Thanks.”

“Let’s see if this helps.”

Well, the gumminess is no longer in his mouth. He’s not sure if he can still feel it in the back of his throat. He takes another bite of the bread—and oh fuck is it good—and it seems to go away.

“That might’ve been it.” But maybe it wasn’t.

“We’ll keep an eye on it, though,” Logan says easily as if he can see where Virgil’s mind wants to go, “let us know if it changes, okay?”

“I will.”

Which is why, later, when he’s sitting out by the lake to watch the moon ripple across the surface of the water, he feels it return and coughs, coughs, coughs until something flies out of his throat.

He frowns, bending down to stare at the thing glistening in the grass. He tilts his head.

What the fuck?

Something else is still in his throat. He coughs again, and more of it shoots out, sticking to the grass with a horrid sound.

Okay, nope. He’s not dealing with this by himself.

Remus? Remus, can you help me with something?

Sure. Gimme a sec and I’ll drop in. Are you okay?

Virgil takes another look at the glistening…thing on the grass.

I don’t know.

An instant later, the water bubbles and Remus rises up, propping himself up with his tentacles as he shakes the water off. Virgil throws his arms up to protect his face from the shower of droplets.

“Oh, oops.”

He waves a hand. “It’s fine, it’s just water.”

“…yeah.”

“Do I want to know what else was in that?”

“Probably not.”

Virgil sighs as Remus clambers up to sit next to him, leaning his head on his shoulder. Remus’s hand cards gently through his hair before prompting him to sit up.

“What’s the problem, little monster? How can I help?”

In response, Virgil points at the glistening mess on the grass In front of him. Remus leans forward, following Virgil’s finger, frowning until he spots the mess. His eyes widen.

“Whoa. I’ve never seen that before.”

Virgil’s heart sinks. If Remus has never seen it before…

“Where’d it come from?” Remus looks over his shoulder. “Was it Ollie? Uma? One of the others?”

Virgil shakes his head.

“Really? So Roman’s babies did that? Huh, I gotta tell him, he’s gonna get a kick outta that.”

“No.”

Remus frowns at the truly quiet noise Virgil makes. He nudges him gently. “No? No what, little monster?”

“It—“ Virgil swallows the gummy thing in his mouth— “it wasn’t Roman’s.”

Remus’s frown deepens. “Then what—“

His eyes go giant when Virgil coughs up another one. It lands on the grass with a splat.

“…oh.”

Virgil turns to him so fast he can feel his neck protesting. “Oh? Oh what, what does ‘oh’ mean?”

Remus smiles. He smiles so wide it makes Virgil’s face hurt by proxy. His eyes dart back and forth between Remus and the stuff on the ground.

“Remus, what?”

“You’re changing,” Remus says softly, still smiling as he reaches out to pull Virgil close, “you’re changing, Virgil, that’s it.”

Um, excuse me, no part of that is reassuring, thank you very much.

“What do you mean I’m ‘changing?’”

“You bonded to us, Virgil,” Remus continues, “you opened that connection.”

“Okay…?”

“That means—well, it means you’re no longer fully human, little monster.”

Wait, what?

He’s—

“You mean I’m part fae now?”

Remus nods. “You’re one of us, little monster, you’re ours. Which means that some of your magic—“

“I have magic?”

“Everything has magic, Virgil. But yeah, it means through that connection your magic’s starting to get a bit of its own shape.”

Virgil looks back down at the mess. It looks…well, it doesn’t look quite so scary anymore. In fact, as he looks at it, there are parts of it that he may actually be able to call…

…pretty.

“My own shape?”

“Jan-Jan looks like a snake, yeah?”

“Except he’s got six arms.”

Remus rolls his eyes. “Yeah, that doesn’t make sense to me either. But Janny’s a snake, I’ve got tentacles, Logan runs a little colder than the rest of us, and Pat’s got an impressive sense of smell.”

“…what about Roman?”

“Roman’s magic just kinda…” Remus wiggles his fingers. “Does that. You’ve seen it.”

“Yeah…yeah, I’ve seen it.”

“He spoils you.”

“…he tries.”

Remus gives him another gentle nudge to show he understands. Then he nods to the grass.

“That’s probably the start of it, little monster.”

“Will it hurt?”

The shameful question bursts out before he can stop it and he winces, curling his arms tightly around himself. Remus just wraps his arms around him too, holding him close.

“I don’t know, Virgil.” He tightens his grip. “But I do know you won’t have to do this alone.”

The dark pit in his chest softens ever so slightly. He tucks his head under Remus’s.

“I know.”

He goes to Logan next. Knocks on his door and waits patiently—okay, maybe not that patiently—for Logan to open it and tilt his head.

“You needn’t do that, you can ask for me directly if you like,” he says after he’s welcomed Virgil inside.

“I know, I just…felt better doing that.”

“I understand.” Logan smiles and adjusts his glasses. “What can I help you with?”

“I, um…” He shifts his weight from side to side. “I found something.”

“Oh? What did you find?”

“Do you remember when I said the bread tasted gummy?” Logan nods. “Well, I, um, found out why.”

Logan’s eyes widen as Virgil holds out a dish with some of the stuff on it. He takes it slowly, adjusting his glasses again as he stares down at the glistening substance. His eyes dart from it to Virgil and back.

“Remus said I was changing,” Virgil offers, “because of the bond, and I just—I just wanted—“

He swallows.

“…wanted to know if it would hurt,” he finishes lamely.

Logan takes a deep breath and sets the dish aside, reaching for his notebook and flipping it open. He scribbles something down and looks up, a smile slowly forming on his face.

“I’m incredibly glad,” he says softly, “that the bond is holding and that you are staying.”

“Wait, there was a chance it wouldn’t work?”

“There was a chance it wouldn’t be formed at all,” Logan corrects, “not that it would fade once it was made.”

“So...?”

“So you’re one of us now, Virgil,” Logan says, holding up the dish, “this proves it.”

“What is that?”

Logan’s smile grows. “I’ve got no idea. Let’s go find out, shall we?”

He beckons Virgil closes, moving across his room to…an area with machines that Virgil has never seen before. He watches as Logan carefully separates a piece of the substance to place on the bed of…what looks like a giant box but what is probably so much more complicated.

“You can come closer if you like.”

He shakes himself, looking up to see Logan considering him curiously.

“Sorry.”

“No need to apologize, you’ve done nothing wrong.” Logan lets their shoulders brush together as he comes to join him. “This is one of my favorite tools.”

“What’s it called?”

“I call it the universal scanner, though I believe Roman calls it the Answer Box.”

“The what?”

“It answers most of the basic questions I can have about something, I suppose.”

“So he called it the Answer Box?”

“I don’t believe Roman’s ever claimed to be the best at naming things.”

Virgil snorts. “Then you were not there for the argument the two of them had over who was naming Oliver’s new adopted jellyfish.”

Logan shudders. “No, and I’m quite glad for that.”

The scanner begins to beep, little pulses of light going off around the stuff lying so innocuously in the middle. As it keeps going, something starts to twist in Virgil’s chest.

What if something’s wrong? What if this isn’t a sign of Virgil changing and it’s something dangerously wrong with him? What if he’s changing and it’s bad? What if they decide they don’t like him or he’s dangerous?

What if they realize the—

—the humans were right?

A rush of cool surges up his arm and he breathes, reaching out to take Logan’s hand and squeeze. Logan squeezes back, stepping a little closer and watching as the machine slows down. Across the room, one of Logan’s screens lights up. He gives Virgil’s hand one last squeeze before stepping away, going to look at the results.

“What does it say?”

“Chemical composition, tensile strength,” Logan murmurs, “as well as magical signature.”

“Magical signature?”

“Who it belongs to,” Logan clarifies, shooting him a smile over his shoulder, “you, Virgil.”

“I have a magical signature?”

“You do.”

He looks down at his hands, turning them over. “What does it look like?”

Logan thinks for a moment. “Do you remember the colors that your aura turns when the Claims are shown?” Virgil nods. “The colors are the various signatures.”

“So yours is…?”

“Dark blue, I believe. Roman’s is red, Remus’s is green. Patton’s is light blue.”

“Janus’s is yellow, I guess.”

“I believe he prefers ‘gold.’”

“He’s so pretentious,” Virgil mutters, “gold, honestly. Shut up, it’s fucking yellow.”

Logan chuckles. “You can tell him that if you’d like.”

“Maybe I will.”

“But to answer your question,” Logan continues, “your magical signature is your color.”

“…which is what?”

Logan looks at him strangely. “Do you not remember?”

“Remember?” Virgil shuffles nervously. “Remember what?”

“The day you were taken,” Logan says softly, sending a dark bolt through Virgil’s stomach, “and we brought you home, do you remember what happened in the garden?”

V jolts awake, flails desperately, against Roman, against Logan, against Patton.

“V, V, honey,” Patton tries, “you’re safe, honey, it’s just us, kiddo—“

“Virgil.”

Virgil breathes, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. Logan sends another calming pulse into the air, calling his name quietly until he can look up.

“My apologies,” Logan murmurs, “I did not mean to do that.”

“It’s fine, you didn’t—“ he takes a breath— “you didn’t mean to.”

Logan accepts it with a nod. “I merely meant that your aura was particularly strong that day,” he says quietly, “and perhaps you remembered it. But you did not, and that’s okay.”

“Sorry.”

“You haven’t done anything wrong, Virgil, it’s alright, there’s no need to apologize.”

He blinks, looking back at the bed of the scanner. “So what is it?”

“Simply put? It’s a web.”

Virgil blinks, longer this time. “A what?”

“A web, Virgil,” Logan repeats, “your web.”

A web, that means—that means that Virgil—he’s—

“So what am I going to be?”

“I believe…” Logan turns the screen to face him. Virgil’s eyes widen.

“A spider?”

“I believe so, yes.”

“But—“

Logan raises an eyebrow when Virgil cuts himself off abruptly, all but clapping a hand over his mouth.

“But,” he prompts softly, “but what?”

“…nothing.”

He tilts his head.

“It’s fine.”

“You don’t have to lie to me.”

“I just…” well, the more he thinks about it, the stupider it sounds. He’s trying really hard to not say it out loud, but…

“You can tell me,” Logan says softly, “I won’t be upset.”

“…but no one likes spiders,” he whispers, shame burning the inside of his throat where he can feel another web forming.

Logan is quiet for a moment. Then—

“Come here.”

Virgil’s head jerks up. “What?”

Logan holds out his arm. “Come here, little one.”

And Logan looks so sincere that he can’t help it, ducking under his arm and letting him gather him close to his chest. Logan hums gently, tucking Virgil’s head under his chin and holding him tight.

“We like you, little one,” he murmurs, “and everyone else can leave you alone.”

“…really?”

“Yes, really,” Logan chuckles, pressing a kiss to his forehead, “you’re wonderful, little one.”

And Virgil opens his mouth to say something equally nice like ‘I like you too’ or even just ‘thank you,’ but nope, instead he has to cough out a web like a rude person.

Luckily, Logan just chuckles again and gives him a gentle squeeze. “I must say, I’m curious about how that works. Would you mind if I helped you figure it out?”

“Please.”

So that’s how he ends up spending a lot of time with Logan, figuring out how much web he can shoot, how to do it on command so it’s not happening all the time, how to hold onto some of it so he can pull stuff towards him like a frog—apparently Patton gets a kick out of that when he tells him—and how to make sure it’s not constantly living in the back of his throat. It’s a fucking blast, actually, and he definitely uses it when Logan gets into an argument with Remus to ‘accidentally’ cough a web into his face. It’s priceless.

That doesn’t mean it’s all good stuff, though.

He wakes up one night with his room covered in webs, sticking to every single available surface, tying him up so he can barely move. His mouth runs dry, his throat aches. He blinks a few times and can’t get the gummy feeling to go away.

Patton, Patton I—I—

Virgil? Kiddo, can I come to you?

Help me—

“Hey, hey,” he hears not a moment later, right next to his head, “hey, kiddo, shh, you’re okay, I’m right here.”

“P-Pat?”

“Yeah, honey.” Patton waves his hand and a little glow appears in the corner of the room. “Can you take a deep breath for me?”

Virgil breathes, wincing when he feels the strands of the webs again. Patton makes a sympathetic noise.

“Do you want me to get rid of them?” At Virgil’s insistent nod, he waves his hand again and they vanish. “They’re gone now, kiddo, it’s okay. Can you sit up for me?”

Patton wraps his arms tightly around him and holds him close, warm, warm, warm, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“Shh, shh, you’re okay, nightmare?”

“Yeah.”

Another kiss. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“I think—“ Virgil swallows— “I think that’s why the webs came out.”

Patton nods. “I can see they trapped a lot of it for you.”

Virgil blinks. “Wait, what?”

“The little buzzing things, the ones that love to fly around you.” He tips Virgil’s head to cup his cheeks, brushing his thumb along the curve of his face. “The ones I can dust off for you?”

“What about them?”

Patton nods toward the rest of the room. “Your webs were trapping most of them, kiddo, making it so you weren’t as badly affected.”

“O-oh.” He swallows again. “But I—I didn’t like it.”

“Making them when you weren’t in control?” Virgil nods. “I can understand that, it must’ve been scary to wake up with a room full of webs.”

Virgil nods again, shifting a little closer to Patton. Wait—

“If the webs were holding them,” he starts, “then why…why aren’t they coming back?”

Patton chuckles. “They know better than to try and touch you when I’m here.”

Virgil hums, burrowing into Patton’s chest and letting him idly flick away the few that dare get close. And yeah, that…that makes sense, but he would rather not be coughing up webs while he’s unconscious. For one, his throat still hurts.

Patton just gently lays his hand against Virgil’s neck and strokes, once, twice, three times, encouraging him to swallow. He does, sighing at the rush of warmth that comes with it.

“Good,” Patton murmurs, “do you want help to make the webs before you go back to sleep?”

“Help to make them?”

“We can set up a little bubble so they get caught, and so you won’t have to do it asleep.”

“You—you’d help me?”

Something flashes behind Patton’s eyes for a moment before it’s replaced by a soft smile. “Of course, sweetheart, I’ll always help you.”

Virgil shifts a bit closer. “Can we stay like this for a little longer first?”

“Of course, kiddo, you come here.”

The webs help. A little. It takes some getting used to, and there’s definitely still times when he wakes up and his throat is all gummy from nightmares, but it does help.

Then, of course, there are the new legs.

Virgil’s eyes shoot open as something cracks. He floats, unaware of what’s happening, as cracks continue to shake the floor of the room. His head rolls to the side. What’s happening? Why can’t he feel anything? There’s just this white-hot tinge to the corners of his vision, almost as if he’s springing up out of his body, what—

—no.

No, no, no, he made it out.

He was free, they were going to keep him safe, how—

He gasps.

Pain floods his senses, turning his blood white and his mouth opens in a silent scream. His jaw aches after the first few seconds and it aches, it truly does, and as his head lolls to the side all he can think about is how the wood at the bottom of the door doesn’t quite reach the floor.

A golden thread inside of him snaps taut and yanks.

“Virgil? Virgil!”

“J?”

“Yes, little mouse, it’s me,” Janus’s voice calls from somewhere above him, “I’m right here, darling, tell me what’s wrong.”

“It—it hurts, I—“

“Shh, shh—oh, darling.” A gloved hand touches his cheek to catch the tears. “Oh, little mouse, tell me what’s so awful, what’s hurting you?”

Another sharp crack rings out and Janus makes a noise.

“Virgil, you’re going to have to roll over.”

Moving of any sort feels like the actual worst, thank you very much.

“They’re trying to come out of your back, darling, any pressure on them is going to make it worse.”

Blinking through the haze of white, Virgil manages to stare up at Janus. He watches his mouth thin to a hard line.

“Come on, sweetie,” Janus murmurs, gently tucking his hand under Virgil’s cheek, “roll toward me, I’ll catch you, but you have to get off your back.”

At the gentle urging of the thread, Virgil closes his eyes and rolls.

“Good,” Janus soothes, cradling him as they lie down on the floor, “good job, darling, I’ve got you, little mouse, it’s alright.”

“What’s—what’s happening?”

“You’re changing, sweetie.” Janus rubs a circle into his lower back, away from the pain, “that’s all it is. Shh, shh, I know it hurts, it’s okay, I’m right here.”

“Make it stop,” he whines, burying his face shamelessly into the crook of Janus’s neck, “it hurts.”

“I know, sweetie, I know. You’re doing so well, it’s okay. You’re okay, I’m right here.”

Janus wraps his arms around him carefully, avoiding the center of his back. One hand cups the back of his neck, another ruffling through his hair. Two stroke down his shoulders, trying to get the muscles to relax. The last pair sling around his hips and hold him close.

“I know it hurts, sweetie,” Janus whispers, “but you have to try and relax. Tensing up will only make it hurt more.”

“I can’t—“

“You can, sweetie, they’re almost out, it’s okay.” He tips his head to press a kiss to Virgil’s forehead. “You’re doing much better than I did when my arms were first growing in.”

“R-really?”

“Yes, sweetie, really…oh, easy, little mouse, shh, just focus on me…”

Virgil clings onto him as his back keeps cracking, over and over. Janus is right, though, holding onto him makes it a little easier, especially when he reaches a hand up to brush the tears away.

“I’ve got you, Virgil,” he promises, “it’s almost over, you’re doing so well, just a little more, now, stay here with me…”

“I want it to stop, it fucking hurts.”

“I know, little mouse, I know.”

“Don’t think—“ Virgil gasps against his neck as another crack rings out, quieter this time, though— “don’t think that works anymore.”

“You’ll always be my little mouse,” Janus whispers, “but you can also be my little spider.”

Virgil blinks. His back still aches, but…the blinding white pain is gone. He tries to stretch—

—and freezes when new things respond in ways that do not make sense.

“Jan?”

“You’ve got new limbs, sweetie,” Janus murmurs, giving his hair a ruffle, “can you try and move them for me?”

Oh, he was not meant to have these muscles in these places. Still, he manages to figure out which ones he’s supposed to flex only for another jolt of pain to shoot through them.

“Shh, shh,” Janus shushes when he winces, “I know it hurts, but you’ve got to start building up a range of motion now, otherwise they’ll get sore and stuck very quickly.”

Virgil grits his teeth and bears it, listening to Janus’s gentle instructions on how to bend, unbend, and rotate the—four?—four new limbs coming from the center of his back. He definitely sheds a few more tears into the collar of Janus’s shirt, but by the time Janus rubs the back of his neck and tells him he’s all done, for now, his back does feel a little better.

“You did so well, sweetie, I’m so proud of you.”

“Can I never do that again?”

Janus chuckles. “Absolutely, little spider.”

Oh. Oh, fuck.

Janus’s eyes widen as a brilliant blush starts to bloom over Virgil’s cheeks. “Well.”

“No.”

“But it’s been so long since I have seen you so flustered, little spider,” he purrs, gently knuckling the side of Virgil’s face, “can you blame me?”

“Stoppit.”

“Oh, darling, is it truly still so easy?”

“Well, it’s easy once I’m already here!”

“Mm.”

Virgil does not squeak, thank you very much, as Janus sits up and pulls him fully into his lap.

“And where is here, little spider,” he hums, bringing one hand up to cup his chin, “right…here?”

Well, there go Virgil’s speaking abilities.

Janus chuckles, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. “It’s certainly been a while since I’ve seen you speechless, darling.”

Virgil just mumbles and throws his arms around him.

“Oh, it’s okay, little spider,” Janus murmurs, softer this time, “I’m done now, you have my word.”

“Mean.”

“Yes, yes, I know, I’ve been very rude to you.” Another kiss on his cheek. “Will you let me make it up to you?”

“How?”

As an answer, he feels hands begin to rub gently at the muscles in his back, encouraging the last bit of cramps loose. An exhale tears itself out of his chest as he sags forward.

“Good,” comes the soft whisper, “good, little spider, just relax, I’ve got you.”

Virgil mumbles, tucking his face into the crook of his neck. “Hurts.”

“Still?” At his nods, Janus makes a noise of sympathy and redoubles his efforts. “It’s okay, little spider, I’ve got you, you’re here with me.”

Something dark shifts in his stomach again. He tucks his head firmly under Janus’s chin and takes a shaky breath.

“What is it, darling?”

“When I woke up,” he mumbles, “thought it was—that I—“

He swallows.

“…wasn’t sure if I was…back or not.”

Janus stills. The dark thing in the pit of Virgil’s stomach snaps.

“You are here,” Janus says, a growl tinging the edge of his voice, “you are here, with me, and you are safe.”

Arms wrap tightly around him.

“None of them will touch you again,” he promises, “I have you. I have you, little spider, you’re safe.”

Virgil just sits there, basking in the warm, golden glow, as Janus wraps the threads of Reality around them.

“Keep me?”

“I’ll keep you, little spider, I’ll always keep you.”

He lets out a shaky breath. “Thank you.”

One last kiss pressed to his forehead. “Always.”

The limbs are…interesting. The first time Janus takes him to the mirror to see them, Virgil almost runs away.

They look like spider legs, all segmented and hairy, but they’re a little too…purple to be just normal spider’s legs. Janus walks him carefully through how to stretch them, how to use them, how to turn them this way and that until it feels a little more like Virgil’s supposed to have them. He doesn’t seem to have to build up their strength as he would a new arm or leg—well, a humanoid arm or leg—but figuring out how to use them takes…a little longer than he’d like.

And he never quite gets over how…wrong it looks.

Freak.

He does his best to hide it. It’s not like it isn’t expected, people don’t normally spontaneously grow limbs like, partway through their life anyway, let alone spider legs, so an adjustment period is expected, but…

Freak.

All things considered, he thinks he’s doing pretty well. He hasn’t lied to anyone—not that he really could—and no one’s asked him flat-out if he feels like they’re awful or anything, but…

Freak.

Then he makes his way back to his room as the sun sets one day and Roman is there, leaning up against the side of the house, waiting for him.

He looks up and smiles, waving to Virgil and beckoning him closer. Virgil goes, valiantly suppressing the shudder at how fucking warm Roman is as a hand comes up to cup his cheek.

Judging by the smile on his face, it’s not successful, but hey, he tried.

“Hello, sweetheart,” Roman murmurs, “can we talk for a moment?”

Virgil nods.

“Thank you, sweetheart, do you want to go inside, or…?”

“Sure.”

Roman lets Virgil lead him inside and pull him to sit down on the bed. He reaches out to push Virgil’s hair away from his face.

“Do you know why I’m here, sweetheart?”

When Virgil shakes his head, he scoots a little closer and rests his hand flat against his back, just below where the legs come out.

“…oh.”

Roman nods, rubbing little circles. “What’s troubling you, little honeybee?”

Virgil huffs, gesturing over his shoulder. “Don’t think that works anymore.”

“Mm, Janus said you’d say that,” he murmurs, shifting a little closer and lifting Virgil’s chin, “talk to me, sweetheart.”

Virgil shuts his eyes. A web crawls up into the back of his throat and he swallows it down, willing the buzzing things to stay away, held at bay only by the web still in his throat and the insistence that everything is going to be fine.

“…freak,” he mumbles eventually, much to Roman’s surprise, “they called me a freak.”

Roman’s hand stills on his back.

“I jus’—“ fuck, why is he crying?—“I jus’—they made sense, and I—“

“Don’t, sweetheart,” Roman says quietly, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Virgil’s, “don’t do that to yourself.”

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he lets Roman pull him closer, fighting down the urge to sob.

“Yes, that’s it, come here—come sit with me—there,” he murmurs, sitting Virgil in his lap, “you’re not a freak, Virgil.”

He huffs. “Easy for you to say.”

Roman pulls back, frowning. “Why?”

Fuck. Well, now’s he got to explain himself.

“Um—“ and great, Roman’s not even doing anything and he’s bright red— “you don’t have any of—“ he waves to the spider legs— “you look like a normal human.”

He hesitates.

“…and you’re really pretty.”

Roman blinks. His lips part and his breath leaves him in a rush. Virgil winces.

“Sweetheart, do you think you don’t have value if you’re not pretty?”

“I mean…”

“No,” Roman growls, sitting up a little straighter and cupping V’s face in his hands, “no, Virgil, pretty isn’t some kind of rent you pay to exist in the world. You don’t owe anyone that, sweetheart.”

Virgil’s eyes widen as Roman holds him tightly.

“You have more to offer than just your outward appearance,” he says firmly, “so much more.”

“But I—I’m not—“ Virgil swallows. “I can’t do anything.”

“What do you mean you can’t do anything, sweetheart?”

“You guys, you can all—“ he waves his hands—“do things. I can’t. I’m just…here.”

“Oh,” Roman breathes as his face truly falls, “oh, little honeybee, you don’t have to be useful to be wanted.”

Wait.

What?

Virgil doesn’t—he doesn’t have to—

“What?”

Roman nods, pulling him closer still, “you don’t, sweetheart, we want you. We will always want you. You don’t have to do anything to earn it.”

Oh.

“You’re mine, little honeybee, as long as you want to be,” he murmurs quietly, “you don’t need to do anything to earn my trust or affection. It’s yours.”

Well, now Virgil feels stupid. The spider legs twitch unhappily over his shoulder. Roman catches it.

“Still not used to them yet, I see,” he murmurs, “that’s alright. I’m not trying to tell you you’re not allowed to feel upset, sweetheart, I promise.”

“I know.”

“Can I help,” he asks softly, “can I help you see they’re nothing to be ashamed of?”

“How?”

“Has anyone touched them yet,” Roman asks, “other than to help you learn how to use them?”

He shakes his head.

“May I touch you, sweetheart?” Virgil nods and Roman smiles. “Thank you. Now, come here—yes, that’s it—“

Virgil leans right up against Roman’s chest, letting him curl his arms around to scratch gently, gently at the very center of the four legs. It sends a jolt through him, every nerve buzzing.

“You don’t have to think right now,” Roman hushes when Virgil can’t find the words to say exactly how much this means, “not if you don’t want. You can just sit and feel, sweetheart, I’ve got you.”

Warm. Warm hands rubbing firmly up the limbs as Virgil’s frantic thoughts grind slowly to a halt. Then Roman’s hands find a spot just below the third segment and he groans, low and dark.

“Shh, I’ve got you,” Roman soothes, squeezing just enough to rewire more of Virgil’s brain, “I’m right here, little honeybee, I’ve got you.”

It’s so much. It’s so much and every single hair on Virgil’s body stands. He hears Roman chuckle from far, far away and all he can do is whine. Roman shushes him, calling him ‘noisy’ in the most affectionate voice but it’s so much.

And yet, it feels like something’s missing. Like there’s an extra joint that isn’t quite sitting right yet, like there’s a layer in between the spider legs and his back. Roman keeps touching him, holding him close, but it’s not right.

“Roman,” he manages, just as Roman’s fingers slide around the base joint, “Roman—“

“Yes, little honeybee?”

“Magic.”

Roman stills and Virgil tries not to whine at the loss. “What?”

“Use your magic,” he says again, trying to clear his head enough to ask properly, “it feels—I can’t—they’re not mine yet.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “And you think that if I use my magic, it will help?”

“Please?”

“You don’t have to beg, sweetheart, you know I can’t ever say no to you.” Roman ruffles his hair. “But you know the rules, sweetheart.”

Virgil nods and sits up, leaning away to look at Roman properly. “If it’s too much or it feels like it wants me to want, I tell you and we stop.”

“And…?”

“And if I don’t like something.”

“Good.” Roman takes a deep breath. “Alright.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, little honeybee.”

“…still don’t think that works anymore.”

“Mm.” Roman tilts his head.

Virgil shifts as a smirk crawls over his face.

“Janus told me something else, you know,” he says softly as he reaches to coax Virgil back into his lap.

“…what?”

Red sparks curl up from his fingers. Virgil closes his eyes, waiting for the hand to land on his back or the legs again, only for them to fly opened, startled when Roman cups his chin.

“Wha—“

Oh.

Oh, no—Roman’s eyes darken a little, the sparks fizzing on the soft spot under his chin. He tilts his head to the side and leans closer.

“Hello, little spider.”

Virgil will deny the squeak he makes until the end of time. Roman chuckles and runs his finger lazily across Virgil’s jaw. The magic trails after him.

“Pretty little spider,” he coos, voice slipping back into that light, sweet, gentle thing that wriggles straight into Virgil’s chest, “blushy little spider.”

“R-Roman!”

“Hmm?” The finger swipes along the other side of his jaw. “What is it, little spider?”

All that comes out is a keen.

“You asked for this, little spider,” Roman reminds, tapping the tip of Virgil’s nose, “you asked for the magic.”

“The magic, not the flirting!”

“Oh, the flirting’s for me, little spider,” he coos, “just for fun. You’re so lovely, I can’t help it.”

“Mmm!”

“Is this not what you wanted, little spider?” When Virgil can’t say anything, Roman chuckles but lifts his fingers away to let him catch his breath. “What do you want, little spider?”

“You know what I want.”

“I do,” he says softly, “but I need you to say it for me. I don’t want to do anything without your consent.”

“…will you touch my legs, please?”

Roman smiles, running his finger up Virgil’s neck, up under his chin, lifting to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Good, little spider,” he whispers, reaching around to leave a small trail down the middle of Virgil’s back, shushing the light whine, “just relax, now, I’ve got you.”

Virgil melts, all but collapsing into Roman as his magic trails lightly up and down the legs, over his back, sometimes fizzling into his hair as he kisses Virgil’s head. His legs start to move of their own accord, pushing up into Roman’s hands as he rocks them slowly back and forth.

“Are you falling asleep, little spider? Does that feel good?” He feels Roman smile against his forehead. “You can sleep, sweetheart, I’ve got you.”

The last of Roman’s magic fizzles away but his hands stay, rubbing, stroking, petting up and down, up and down. Roman’s so warm.

“Just rest, little spider,” Roman hushes, “you’re alright now, shh…”

He falls asleep to moonlight streaming in through the window, his head pillowed on Roman’s chest.

Somewhere, a purple thread winds itself into a braid next to a red thread, a green thread, a light blue thread, a dark blue thread, and a yellow thread.

‘Golden.’

He’s so pretentious, it’s fine.

Virgil’s home.

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kim-seungmine · 5 years ago

Text

moonlit

title: moonlit

characters: fem!reader x lee minho (lee know) of stray kids feat. bang chan, kim seungmin, hwang hyunjin, kid!yang jeongin

genres: exes to lovers au, romance, angst, based on eternal sunshine of the spotless mind, chan’s one sided love if you squint real hard, bff!seungjin.

warnings: cursing, mentions of drinking and food, mentions of insecurity/emptiness, minho is lowkey a flirt (and smooth af), this one is WORDY, sometimes nonlinear (flashbacks marked in italics, phase 2 completely happens in the past), lots of inner conflicts, watch me repeat the same words again and again.

word count: 14k

synopsis: after a nasty breakup, you have lee minho clinically erased from your mind... only to be reminded that while memories can be erased and forgotten, feelings will always demand to be felt.

Phase 1: Awakening

You clamp your shaking legs together, desperately trying to look like you’ve got it all together. The carton box on your lap feels heavier with each passing second as you wait for your name to be called. When the receptionist finally tells you to enter the consulting room, your head is full of him. His laugh, his voice, his touches, his smile, his empty promises, his lies, his last words…

This is why you’re doing this. You want him gone.

“Miss Y/N, please have a seat.” The doctor, Seo Changbin, motions at you to sit at the back of the room. A nurse places a tripod in front of you, setting the camera so it will capture your whole body. “Your sessions will be recorded, and we will keep all the recordings as archive. These recordings are confidential unless they’re needed for national security purposes. And, of course, if you wish to get your memories back in the future.”

Dr. Seo smiles, the calming tone in his voice doesn’t match the weight of his words. “You… you can restore the memories back?”

“I can’t,” he answers. “Patients are usually able to remember some past memories when triggered. And at least you will be reminded of why you want to do the erasure procedure in the first place. There are a lot of patients who regret doing this, and the last thing we want is to get sued because people make the wrong choices for themselves. I’m sure you have already read that part on the consent form.”

Great, you’re going to stop him from messing with your head by letting strangers literally damaging your brain.

“I won’t sue you. Let’s get this over with.”

“Sure.” Dr. Seo points at the camera. “Now, tell us everything, starting with who you want to erase.”

You grip your box tighter, as if to check if all the things inside still cause you pain no matter how many times you’ve seen them. You could have done this the normal way—crying, cutting your hair, even turning to God for help.

The thing is, one of these days the pain is going to swallow you up, and then you’ll be left with nothing. Nothing but an empty shell.

You should have been able to do this the normal way, but you’re too weak. Can’t you be weak for once? You can, right?

Clearing your throat, you stare at the lens. “Lee Minho.”

“Lee Minho,” you repeat. Louder. Clearer. “I’d like to erase Lee Minho.”

Chan finishes his beer in one gulp while you’re still struggling to open yours. It’s a shame, really—you drink almost every week, he drinks twice a year. He tosses the now empty can to the trashcan before opening another with ease, handing it to you. Mumbling a quiet thank you, you take a sip and watch him tear a pack of dried squids open.

“You’ll never go to those parties again,” he says. “I didn’t know my parents invited you because of that.”

You shake your head. “It’s fine. They meant well.”

He pulls his hair in frustration. “I can’t believe they said that in front of everyone! You must’ve been so shocked. I’m sorry.”

You grimace, the unwanted attention was indeed quite embarrassing. Enough to make you politely reject the next time Chan’s parents invite you to another gala. Mr. and Mrs. Bang have always been supportive of their eldest son, letting Chan started his own business instead of taking over the family business. Chan’s mother had called you a few days prior, asking you to accompany her son since it would be a good opportunity to “build connection and expand your business.”

You and Chan did exactly that, so it wasn’t like they were lying. But Chan’s parents also used the opportunity to try to convince the two of you that you’re match made in heaven.

“Can we drop this?” You glance at your watch, stretching your limbs before rising from your seat. The traffic light turns red and you signal at your best friend to walk faster. “I keep getting flashbacks of CEO Kang’s son laughing at us.

Chan follows suit, placing his hand at the small of your back before crossing the street. You let out a relieved sigh when you reach the warm subway station. “Kang Younghyun has more embarrassing incidents than ours combined,” he scoffs. “This is nothing compared high school. No worries.”

“You sure you don’t want me to take you home?” he asks as you train is arriving. “I should’ve brought the car instead of letting my parents drive us to the party.”

You click your tongue at him. “Then you’ll miss the last train.”

“I can take a cab home. You always fall sleep on the train it’s giving me headache!”

“Bang Chan.”

The train stops and opens its doors. “Fine,” he mumbles. “Just don’t fall asleep.”

“No promises!” you tease, stepping into the train a second before it closes. You wave at Chan until he disappears into a small dot before choosing the seat beside the door. The train is almost empty; standing near the door is a high school student listening to an online lecture and sitting across you is…. the most attractive man you’ve ever seen in your life. He meets your eyes for a second before shifting his attention back to his phone again, leaving you slightly disappointed.

You despise socializing at parties but you want the Hottest Man Alive to talk to you? Y/N you’re so pathetic.

The sight of a bundle of name cards inside your purse is what gives you a reality check, various names and faces are popping up in your mind. Only now you feel how exhausted you are, parties and talking to a bunch of strangers have never been your thing. You take your platform heels off just as the train makes its stop, one of them almost hitting Hottest Man Alive as a result.

Apparently God has decided to make you the embarrassment icon of the day.

“I’m so sorry!” you panic, about to reach your flying heel when he stands up and picks it up. He silently places it in front of you before pulling out a card out of his pocket.

“It’s okay, just check out our café when you have time.” Hottest Man Alive slips the card into your palm, rendering you speechless with his bashful smile.

Oh, you’re not going to fall asleep at all tonight.

You run your eyes over the black embossed letters once more, trying to calm your erratic heartbeat as you mentally convince yourself that he does want you to pay his café a visit. Your whole life has always been normal, so alarmingly calm and peaceful it makes you question your whole existence. Sometimes it feels like you’re living in someone else’s dream, foreign and temporary. Uncertain and insecure.

Last night was… weird, to say the least. You’ve never felt that attracted to someone before, not even your ex-boyfriends. In that moment, you felt unstoppable, carefree, happy… everything that wasn’t you.

Sadly, that moment didn’t last long and now you’re back to your overthinking self. What if he was just playing with you? Will he find you desperate or, God forbid, easy if you actually show up at his café? But what café owners don’t want a new customer? Besides, you’re bringing Chan, so Hottest Man Alive (or Lee Minho, according to his name card) is getting two new customers. If anything, he will be thanking you and hoping you will come again, just like any normal business owner.

“Hey,” Chan calls out to you, knocking on the car window. “We’re here, daydreamer.”

You shove the card back into your wallet, met with Chan’s confused eyes when you finally open the door. “You okay?” He cocks an eyebrow. “You look so out of it.”

Chan knows nothing about your encounter with Hottest Man Alive; he would’ve freaked out if he knew you wanted to visit a café because a random (handsome) stranger told you so. “Just thirsty. It’s so hot,” you mumble.

Eat Here Café gives off the homey atmosphere that immediately calms your nerves. You quickly scan the whole building, looking for any sign of Hottest Man Alive. You feel lighter yet bummed that he’s not there, except for some photos of him with a group of children pinned on the wall.

You choose a table near the cashier. “I’ll order. What do you want?”

Chan shrugs. “Any kind of cake.”

The puppy-like part timer greets you with a smile when you reach the counter. “Good afternoon, what would you like to order?”

“Injeolmi bingsu and Coke, please. Oh, and a vanilla cake!”

He repeats your order politely and you decide that you like the boy, taking a glance at his nametag that says Kim Seungmin. You never really pay attention to part timers before, but this one is remarkably efficient, polite, and very very cute (in a “I’d like to adopt him!” way).

You drop some cash into the tipping jar, the twinkle in Seungmin’s eyes feels so rewarding that you’re ready to put it into your “little things that made my day” on your journal later. He hands you the buzzer with a bright smile. “Please wait for your order!”

“Your stingy ass never gives such a generous tip. Did he flirt with you or something?” Chan marvels—loud enough to get Seungmin’s attention—when you return to your table. There are times when you regret being Chan’s business partner, but you realize that you’ve invested so much of your time and energy into building the company. That, and Chan is actually a dependable friend when he’s not trying to ruin your image.

Chan gets your order after the buzzer vibrates, digging into his cake right away. “Whoa this is good!” he exclaims. “How did you find this place?”

“…Instagram.”

“Do you think they hired a branding consultant already?”

You shake your head. “They post pretty regularly but I don’t think so.”

Chan’s eyes sparkle. “Do you think we should ask to meet the owner or something?”

“Hey Seungmin, iced Americano please! And remind me to pay your bonus later.”

The faintly familiar voice stops you from answering, your eyes wildly searching for the source. And there he is… the one you’ve been dreading to meet and also the one you’ve been yearning to meet. Lee Minho saunters into the café with his charming bunny smile and soft eyes, earning everyone’s attention except for Seungmin who’s still taking orders.

Seungmin only replies with a short hum, not taking his eyes off the cash register. You glance at Minho, mentally surprised by the way he doesn’t seem to be bothered with how Seungmin treats him.

“Quit staring before you start embarrassing yourself,” Chan warns you in the most boring tone. “I think he’s the owner.”

You almost spit out your drink. “I’m not staring!”

Minho exchanges some words with Seungmin before focusing his attention to all the customers. Your bingsu is melting, but you still follow his every move through your peripheral vision, not knowing whether you want him to recognize you.

“You really came!”

Chan points at himself, then at you. “Us?”

Minho shifts his gaze to Chan like he didn’t even notice the dimpled man was there whole time.

“Ah… y-yes,” you stutter. “This is very a nice café.”

One look at Chan and you know there’s no way for you to hide anymore. “He invited me!” you quip. “I mean, us.”

“Do you have anyone handling your social media accounts? Planning the digital marketing? Creating ads?” You have bombarded Minho with questions before Chan says anything, skipping the whole small talk step in “how to smoothly intrigue clients” manual.

Seungmin arrives with Minho’s iced Americano, putting the tall glass in front of him with no words before smiling at you and Chan. “Does any of you want anything else?”

“Yes, please,” Minho interrupts before you can refuse. “Please order whatever you want, it’s on the house.”

“Pulling the boss card, huh?” Chan jokes. “Then I’ll have orange juice.”

“Y/N?”

You didn’t have a chance to try the vanilla cake Chan ordered because he inhales food instead of digesting them, but the chocolate ice cream looks beyond tempting—

Minho chuckles. “How about our vanilla and chocolate ice cream?”

“Did I say that out loud?” you mumble to yourself, but proceed to thank Minho for his suggestions and tell Seungmin you’d like to have those. Minho flashes you a soft smile, almost making you melt on the spot if it weren’t for Chan’s leg kicking yours.

The conversation continues without any embarrassing incident. Chan lets you do all the talking, only adding further details when necessary while Minho asks you challenging but intriguing questions you answer passionately.

The so-called meeting ends with Minho promising to sign the contract by next week and Chan shaking your hand under the table, both confused and impressed.

“Is that why your employees are so relaxed around you? Because you just want everyone to eat and live well? I swear Seungmin didn’t even try to curse discreetly when you told him to wipe the counter for the 5th time,” you ask.

Minho laughs as the said boy exits his station, backpack slung across his shoulder. “Yes I’ll transfer your money after our guests leave. Don’t you dare remind me again!” the former yells playfully before the part timer opens his mouth. Seungmin bows to you and Chan before scowling at his boss. “You’re the one who told me to—nevermind. See you tomorrow, hyung.”

“I really like that boy,” you coo when Seungmin closes the door.

“I treat them as my friends,” Minho says. “I decided to do this because I just want to help everyone, including my employees. I don’t want Eat Here to be one of those expensive, pretentious cafes. I just want everyone to eat what they want, that’s why we have all sorts of things here. Combination of Eastern and Western, stuff like that. But this is still business, I have to do things to keep it running, right?”

You’ve met a lot of people with beautiful visions, but you’ve never met someone who wants something so simple yet complicated like Minho. It’s been quite a long time since you’re genuinely excited for a project, and now you know why Chan didn’t freak out upon knowing that you met Minho on the train.

“You guys can do whatever you want,” Minho adds, waving to a pair of part timers clocking in. “Are you going back to the office?”

Chan stretches his limbs. “Yeah,” he groans. “Gotta make sure our intern doesn’t jam the printer again.”

Your phone rings the moment Chan finishes his sentence. ”You jinxed it! Hyunjin is calling.”

“Whatever it is, wait until we’re back!” you whisper-yell at your intern.

“But noona, the printer—”

You give Hyunjin no chance to blabber about one specific printer and end the call. Minho giggles at your antiques, and you don’t have the energy to stop yourself from admiring his pretty features in the most obvious ways possible.

Chan pats your back before grabbing his phone and stands up. “I guess that’s our cue to leave.”

“Take these.” Minho writes your name on one of the paper bags, handing them to you with a big smile. “For everyone at your office. Thanks for reaching out to us.”

You peek inside the bag that has your name scribbled on it, not surprised to see both vanilla and chocolate ice cream inside—it’s the clear bottle that you’re curious about.

“Bye! I’ll send you the gym’s contact later!” Your best friend slash business partner waves at your new client slash crush from the driver’s seat. You take out the bottle, it’s filled with sikhye.

Your favorite drink, but Minho isn’t supposed to know that.

“Everyone deserves a fresh start. Don’t let anyone from your past haunt you. Start Erasure now.”

Minho mutes the television, heaving a sigh as he recounts his fateful meeting with you yesterday. The world has always been rather weird, he would say, but nothing defeats meeting his ex-girlfriend—his first love—who has no recollection of your time together. He heard from his former classmates that you sent them a message a few years ago, informing them that you would undergo the erasure procedure. According to his friends, you specifically told them to “never ever mention Lee Minho’s name or ask you about the procedure.”

You’re back in his life now, happy as ever, and the last thing Minho wants is breaking your heart all over again. He no longer owns that special spot in your heart, you owe him nothing. He left you insecure, disappointed and soulless, and now it’s his turn to be haunted by all the questions and what ifs in his mind.

His phone vibrates as soon as he flips the signage open, your name flashing on his screen. “Hey Y/N what’s up?”

“Minho I can’t multitask so please give me quick and accurate answer. I’m at the traffic light in front of Lotte now—”

“You need to turn left.”

“Okay… didn’t know my non-existent sense of direction is that obvious — damn, let me change lanes.”

Minho suppresses a chuckle. You’ve always been bad with directions.

“Turn left once more, and you’ll find us. We’re right across the first G25 store on the street.”

He steps out the café to welcome you when he spots a white Kia arriving. In contrast to his horrifying memories of teaching you to drive, you manage to parallel-park your car smoothly in 10 seconds, stopping Minho from offering to help you park your car.

“Sorry,” you grimace. “I suck at directions. Last week was the first time I went here and Chan was the one driving so I wasn’t really paying attention… and before you ask, no I can’t use GPS while driving. I barely managed to dial your number.”

Minho lifts his hands. “I was just going to say hello.”

“Oh, good! People always judge me for that!”

You don’t let him respond as you point at the photos on the wall. “Tell me about them!” you request. “Our photographer Hyunjin is going to be here any minute, and we’ll give this corner a special attention. Your customers need to know this.”

Minho scratches his head bashfully, the glint of admiration in your eyes is making him a bit dizzy. It’s been a long time since you looked at him like that. “Uhh, okay. These are the kids I’m supporting, they live in Africa,” he starts. “I hope I can visit them someday, but they’ve been sending me letters, saying thank you... telling me about their days and all.”

“Wow!” you marvel. “How does it feel? To receive such lovely letters?”

“Honestly, it kinda makes me feel like a parent,” he replies. “It feels wonderful.”

Moving onto the next set of photos, his smile grows wider. “I teach these kids dancing, sometimes taekwondo. They’re all very sweet, especially the maknae, Yang Jeongin.” Minho points at a boy with contagious smile. “He can be a brat sometimes, but everyone loves him.”

“Is this an orphanage? Can I meet them?” you blurt out.

“Of course! You’ll love them to bits.”

“You have to come back with Y/N noona!”

A few weeks later, Minho took you to the orphanage. You played with the kids all day and watched him teach them dance. You thought the kids wouldn’t like you as much, but now they’re trying to persuade you to stay the night.

“Aww, of course I’ll come back. Be a good boy, and we’ll be back sooner than you thought!”

Yang Jeongin, the youngest boy in the orphanage, has done everything to make you stay. If it weren’t for your “adult responsibilities,” you would have caved in because nothing could beat his puppy eyes and hopeful smile.

“Alright, go back inside, everyone. All of you need to sleep.”

The kids grumble at Minho’s command, slowly walking back to the main hall. After making sure no one sneaks out to follow you, the two of you make a stop at a nearby park that Minho claims to be the perfect place to admire the moon.

“Okay, you’re not lying. The moon does look pretty from here.”

The man sitting beside you smirks in satisfaction. “I never stay too long but I always like spending time here. Now that I think about it, you kinda resemble the moonlight.”

The switch of the mood has you cackling. “Aren’t everything about the moon associated with werewolves and murders? You’re expecting me to fall for such a lame pickup line?”

“That’s not how I see it.” Minho disagrees. “I think you’re radiant, bright but not blinding. Take it as a compliment.”

The word radiant strikes you light a lightning, forces you to face the harsh reality that you’re doing a really good job in hiding the hollowness inside—all the lingering questions and uneasiness. You’re far from being the light Minho admires.

“Trust me, I’m not radiant whatsoever.”

Minho stiffens, observing you carefully until you feel brave enough to look at him. At first, you see pity in his eyes, but it morphs into something that feels too good to be true. You find tranquil in his gaze, so serene that you nearly let your tears fall.

He reaches for your hand, interlocking your fingers together before pulling you up from your seat. “I’ll tell you whenever you’re being the moonlight that you are,” he promises, his voice is a perfect mix between sincerity and mischief. “Prepared to get sick of me because I’ll remind you everyday.”

Just because most people often cross the line doesn’t mean that being able to exert self-control when needed is something to be proud about, but Minho has always thought of it as his positive trait.

He’s going to cross it out of the list today.

His hand is still holding yours tightly, chatting away with a lopsided smile on his face. And yours. This wasn’t what he intended to do, but life loves to play God and tests him the moment he thinks he knows what he’s doing. Giving you his name card on the train has spiraled into taking you home hand-in-hand, peppering kisses on your temple when you become too cute to handle (which is almost all the damn time) and falling in love with you all over again. What happened in the subway impulsive and dumb, but he couldn’t control himself. He wanted to see you again, he longed to talk to you.

Minho just wanted a second chance to be good to you, but will things ever be enough? How will he make things right again? Providing you free coffee and say thank you for your visit? It was a selfish wish he shouldn’t have acted upon.

“We must’ve crossed paths somehow. There’s no way that we’ve never met before!” you say, swinging your intertwined hands happily.

It’s too late. History repeats itself, but Minho’s too far gone to stop. He’s trying to feel it, the need to exert self-control—he can’t.

“I didn’t come home often,” he lies, every word feels like knife stabbing his heart. You hum in response, a yawn escaping from your mouth as both of you are nearing your unit. Minho watches you enter the door password, mouthing the numbers silently, 2 3 0 9. Your grandma’s birthday. It’s always been your password for everything—phone, laptop, even Minho’s old apartment since you were the one who set it for him. It stays with him until this very day although he no longer lives in the same apartment.

You tug at his sleeve. “Come on in.”

Your stuffs are pretty much the same, if not exactly the same as a few years ago. The only things missing were those related to him. Polaroid photos of you together, the umbrella he left at your place, the mug he…. wait.

The purple mug Minho bought for you is sitting on the kitchen counter, causing him to nearly trip over his own feet. Did you forget to get rid of it before the procedure?

“Let me go change first,” you tell him. “Feel free to grab any snack. There’s cold water and beer in the fridge.”

He can barely answer as you disappear into your room. Memories start flooding his mind, it feels as if he finally finds all the folders with your name on them that he tried so hard to bury, stashed in the deepest part of his heart.

Those memories were so painfully beautiful he has to bite his lip to prevent his tears from falling.

“Oh that’s my favorite mug!”

You’re back, dressed in the black loose T-shirt you always wear during summers. Minho’s eyes automatically dart to your left shoulder, spotting the hole on the shirt that exposes a part of your shoulder.

Another thing that hasn’t changed. Another thing that makes you the you he knew. Another thing that diminishes his self-control into nothing because you have no idea how much he loved to—

“Minho?”

You cradle this face softly, wiping the tears he didn’t know he shed. Confusion and panic reflected in your irises. “Is everything okay?”

“Huh?” He touches his cheek before attempting to laugh. “Something probably went into my eyes...”

“Let me see.” Before he refuses, you’ve taken a step closer, gently blowing into his eyes. “Better? Want some eye drop?”

Minho shakes his head, removing your hands from his face and plants a kiss on your forehead. Another mistake that feels so right. “I guess I’m just tired. Is it okay if we chat some other time?”

You mumble an okay, following him to the front door. When he turns the door knob, you reach for his hand. “Hey,” you murmur, slowly examining his face. Minho tries to read yours in return, sensing your hesitation. He waits for a good minute patiently, letting you form words in your head.

“What are we? These things we’ve been doing… what do they mean to you? Does this mean we’re…”

You let out a frustrated sigh, more directed to yourself than him, and Minho understands what you’re talking about. He tightens his grip on the knob, desperately begging himself to stop all of this. You don’t deserve another heartbreak when you’ve done everything to continue living.

You’re a whole new person, yet you remain the one he adored. How can you be so different yet familiar? How can you be so… dearly you?

“Minho, does this mean that we’re—”

Minho throws his arms around you, burying his head into the crook your neck before slowly trailing his lips towards the exposed part of your shoulder. You have no idea how much he loves leaving kisses there, on that particular spot. As strange as it sounds, it gives him the strength and hope he needs. Minho never told you this; you’ll never be able to imagine how happy and relieved he currently feels when he plants one, two, three, countless kisses that set his whole being on fire.

“We are,” he whispers, dropping one last kiss before pulling you even closer, enveloping your body in his embrace.

There’s only one thing in Minho’s head now: love. He can only think about loving you better than before, and in this moment nothing can stop him from doing so because whether he likes the old you or the new you doesn’t matter anymore.

Minho just loves you, and he doesn’t want to think about anything else. Not even his selfishness. And especially not your future heartbreak.

“You’re so precious, Y/N. You’re so precious to me.”

Hyunjin is the only one at the office when you arrive. He’s busy with his camera, changing its setting every now and then before capturing random things on his desk. You and Chan were on the fence about hiring him at first since you’re just a small company and he’s a student with high expectations. However, Hyunjin turns out to be the one of the most eager apprentices ever, and you’re going to bawl your eyes out when his internship ends next month.

“What are you doing?” you ask him, only earning a distracted “Huh?” as an answer.

“Hyunjin, don’t forget to go over the photoshoot details with me before we leave later, okay?”

He lifts his head a little this time. “Okay. Let me just finish trying out this new technique Seungmin taught me.”

You chuckle, snapping a photo of your intern yelling at his camera when he messes up. Sending it to Chan, you write, “We should give him a raise.”

Your phone rings a few seconds later, frowning when Chan’s urgent voice greets you. “I’m inside my car. Can we talk?”

“Whoa, relax. What happened?”

“Y/N, please. Just come out for a sec.”

No one wants to start a fight with Chan when he’s talking in that tone, so you inform Hyunjin you’re stepping out for a bit. Chan’s sedan is parked right in front of the building, his conflicted face prompts you to enter the car right away.

“You told me there’s something weird about Minho but now you’re dating him? And you’re hiding it from me?” he deadpans without waiting for you to close the door.

“I didn’t mean to hide it from you,” you murmur. “I just don’t know how to explain it.”

Chan sighs in exasperation. “Why do you think you owe me an explanation? I’m your best friend, not your mother. How is Minho different from any other guy you’ve dated that you really tried to keep it a secret from me?”

You gulp. “Things between Minho and I… it’s different. I thought I knew what liking someone felt like, but after meeting him I realized I knew nothing about it. Everything feels so overwhelmingly wonderful and insanely intense I think I may fall apart if I start talking about it.”

Your best friend gives you a knowing look, but says nothing as he stares at a random stranger walking down the street. “And I know you’re not really fond of him so I was trying to look for the perfect timing to tell you. Sorry.”

“I just want to keep you safe. This guy knows small details about you that even I didn’t know. Are you sure you never met him before?”

He pauses, taking a deep breath before adding, “Did you do that erasure procedure?”

“How am I supposed to know?” you snap. “Isn’t forgetting about the whole thing the point of the procedure?”

“You love him, don’t you?” Chan’s voice is soft this time, but his words hit you right in the gut you have to stop yourself from flinching. Hearing someone say that they love you is scary, admitting that you are in love is a hundred times scarier.

Taking your silence as a yes, Chan turns on the engine. “Look, the last thing I want is seeing you sad. It breaks me, more than you know. So please consider trying to find out the truth. How are you going to love him if you don’t trust him? How is he going to love you if he keeps you in the dark?”

You lean your head against the window, watching your best friend dialing Hyunjin’s number to tell him that both of you will be back after lunch.

“We better be quick,” Chan says. “Hyunjin’s terrified he will have to answer Mr. Song’s call again.”

“We should definitely give him a raise.”

“Oh we will,” he snickers. “If he survives Mr. Song’s call.”

“You’re cruel.”

For the first time in your life, you feel like a ruling queen inside your island instead of a trapped princess. You know every nook, every secret passage, every hidden treasure that nobody else has ever explored. Everything feels real for once, you’re in control and you want to stay here forever.

Eat Here has gained more regular customers since you and Chan started handling its social media accounts, and the face-splitting grin on Minho’s face whenever a new customer pushes the door open makes you feel proud and giddy at the same time.

You weren’t able to witness your Hottest Man Alive greeting his customers happily today, but you promised to pay him a visit at the café. It’s a few minutes past 10, meaning the café has closed for the day, so you were prepared to see everyone cleaning up. To you surprise, there’s nobody inside when you arrive.

“Minho?”

Your boyfriend waves from inside the pantry. “Coming!”

Moments later, he comes out with a tray of food. Gesturing at you to take a seat, he places a bowl of potato salad, a pot of kimchi jjigae and some side dishes. “Wait, let me get some more.”

You recall your phone conversation 2 hours ago, vaguely remembering telling Minho that you haven’t had dinner. When he serves the last batch of side dishes and a bottle of sikhye, you tease him for being so sweet.

“I’m not being sweet though?” He pulls out a chair for himself, watching you eat with content eyes. “You said you were starving, so I prepared you some food.”

You shrug, letting him pour sikhye into your glass. “I just never expected that you’re someone who…”

“… cooks?” he finishes for you. “I just did the bare minimum. Do you really want to see me being sweet?”

“Is that a challenge?”

Minho clears his throat, the way he stares at you makes you fidget in your seat. Only God knows what’s inside this man’s mind. One second he’s nonchalant and cool, then he’s Mr. Flirty and makes you all swoony.

Patting his thigh, he smiles at you. “Come here baby.”

You shake your head in fear of completely losing your sanity. “No. What are you trying to do?”

“Being the most romantic boyfriend ever. Come on.”

Minho tries his best to suppress his laugh as you finally settle yourself on his lap, not sure whether you should rest your head on his shoulder or peck his lips or marvel at how firm his thighs are... damn it Y/N, what are you? 17?

Although you’re just sitting there like a log, Minho looks unbothered and reaches for the chocolate cake. He slices it into smaller bites, taking a piece of it with the fork before telling you to open your mouth. “If you still want ice cream then we can get some on the way home.”

“I’ve had enough ice cream for today. I went to this cute ice cream parlor with Chan.”

You take the plate from him, stuffing yourself with the rest of the cake. Minho’s soft pats on your shoulder and the sweet taste of chocolate seem to flush all the initial awkwardness from your system.

Another hour passes with you curling up on Minho’s lap, the latter listening to your little speech about how grateful you are for vending machines as if you’re talking about world peace. Your back hurts and his thighs ache but the way your head nestles in the crook of his neck and the way he pecks your cheek every few minutes are enough of a spell to trap both of you in this exact moment, where lies, doubts and regrets cease to exist.

You wake up with a jolt, reaching for your water bottle on the bedside table. It’s surreal for a dream to feel that real—it almost felt like a memory, something distant but present nonetheless. You’re sure that was the younger Minho you saw in the dream instead of the one you know, and before you come to a realization that it’s currently 2AM, you’re already dialing his number.

He picks up on the fifth ring. “Hmmm my moonlight, missed me?”

His sleepy voice causes you to blush, definitely not seeing that coming. “Nothing.” You wince at your parched voice. “I just had a dream.”

Minho lets out a low laugh, you can hear him sitting up on his bed. “About me?”

“Well… yeah.”

“Tell me about it.”

You sink into your bed, heaving a sigh you forget to hide. “It’s complicated.”

“Was it a bad dream?” Minho’s voice is firm but oh so calming that you start recounting every detail you can remember. He listens to you attentively, humming once in a while, and your muscles are all relaxed now. Minho is here, listening to your bullshit in the wee hours of the morning. Minho is here, calling you his moonlight with the most caring tone ever.

“I miss you,” he declares the moment you finish talking. “Can I come over?”

“All of sudden? Minho, it’s 2AM.” You glance at the clock. “Wait, it’s 2:18 now.”

“Then I’ll be there at 3AM.”

“But—”

He hangs up, and you just sit there until Minho enters your room at 3AM sharp, taking in your dumfounded state before plopping himself onto the bed and pulling you close. “I’m here,” he sweetly says and you can only nod, eyes boring into his as he runs his thumbs along your cheekbones. “I like you, exactly the way you like me. I like you more.”

You shake your head, burying your head in the crook of his neck to hide your red cheeks. “It was just a dream,” he adds, enunciating each word like a mantra. Closing your eyes, you repeat his words again and again inside your head, traces of pain from the dream still crawling up your skin as Minho’s sweet praises lull you to sleep.

“I’m sorry but that’s classified information. We cannot mention anything about our patients.”

“But she did the procedure because of me! I’m the one she erased!”

“That only gives us more reasons to forbid you from obtaining any information. It’s our policy to protect our patients, especially after the procedure is done.”

Minho wonders how this sullen kid managed to land the job, but bites his tongue before he really gets kicked out. He takes one deep breath before pleading at so-called receptionist (his name is Kim Seungmin but he could care less) once again. “May I at least know whether she was in so much pain?”

Seungmin fixes his glasses. “People her age mostly spend their money on traveling or whatever cool things they want to do, but she chose to have her memories manipulated so she wouldn’t have to remember you. I think that’s enough of an explanation.”

It’s no big deal, Minho tells himself. It’s normal for people to have the Erasure procedure thesedays. In fact, it’s become so normal that no one bothers to talk about it anymore. Erasure is simply another way to move on, just like Love Alarm is another way to detect love. If you decided that your memories together weren’t precious enough to keep in your heart, so be it. If he hurt you that much but you chose to erase him instead of confronting him, then it’s your loss.

Exactly. Was he that bad? Did he hurt you that much?

“Excuse me, Sir?” Seungmin is already standing by the door. “I think it’s better for you to leave.”

“Alright.” Minho lifts his hands in defeat, starting to feel bad for the poor boy who’s just trying to keep his job. “Hang in there, kid.”

“Congratulations, you just earned a VIP pass to Hell.”

Eat Here is doing well, the kids he’s supporting are starting school soon and he finally gets to return the feelings of the girl he loves the most but yes, Seungmin is right. The gates of Hell are open for Minho.

“Right,” he scoffs. “As if you didn’t greet people with a smile and convinced them that erasure was the best solution for all their problems.”

Seungmin grits his teeth; talks about Dr. Seo Changbin’s Erasure Centre are never easy for both of them. For Seungmin, it reminds him of all the pain, rage and guilt he thought he was used to seeing. For Minho, it reminds him of his selfishness and failure to make you happy.

“The erasure did help a lot of people though,” the puppy-eyed boy trails off. “It’s been years yet I’m still torn between wanting the procedure to perish and thanking it for saving lives.”

“Maybe it does save people. But then there’s Y/N.”

“And you,” Seungmin adds.

Minho chuckles. “And you.”

“Are you just gonna wait until she realizes that those dreams actually happened?”

A long silence looms over them until Seungmin slides a clear CD case along the counter. “I guess it’s time to reveal how I risked my life for you the day I quit my job there.”

A label with your name is plastered on it along with the logo of the centre. It’s the answer to all his questions when he first met Seungmin. The sole proof that everything between the two of you happened.

“I can get sued anytime,” the part-timer warns jokingly. “So use it well, and don’t cry. She said some hurtful things, but you deserved it anyways.”

“Do you think it could last another hour?”

Hyunjin snaps one last photo and tells the models to get a 5-minute break. “Do you want an honest answer or an intern-can-make-anything-happen answer?” he whispers at you while checking his shots.

You’re currently at a photoshoot in Gyeongju with a client you desperately need to impress, but your clumsiness just had to choose today to get in action. Chan was almost furious when you told him you left all the cameras’ charging cables at Minho’s apartment.

“So we’re fucked up,” you conclude. “How many outfits are left?”

“Including this one… three.”

“We’re so fucked up,” you correct yourself, approaching Chan to relay the expected bad news when a familiar car arrives at the villa. You barely hear Hyunjin muttering, “God is a male… for today…” before rushing to take the black duffel bag from Minho’s hand. He only smiles when you tell him he’s getting all the hugs and kisses later.

The photoshoot continues smoothly; allowing you, Chan and Hyunjin actually breathe after 5 hours trying to make the cameras’ batteries last as long as possible.

“I’m so sorry Chan,” you sigh.

He lets out a weak chuckle. “It’s fine. The problem’s solved anyways.”

“No thanks to me.”

“Thanks to you.” Chan glances at your boyfriend who’s leaning on his car, watching you from afar. “Minho brought the chargers, but you were the one who made him drive all the way here. You need to stop underestimating his feelings for you.”

You let Chan’s words sink in, eyes meeting Minho’s in the process. For a split second you forget about everything’s that’s been bugging you, wanting nothing but to lose yourself in his affection for you.

“Do you trust Minho now?”

Chan puts his hand inside his pocket, exhaling softly. “I know he’s crazy for you Y/N, I’m not dense. But does that mean he’s being honest with you?”

Hyunjin snaps one last photo that marks the end of the shoot, giving you a reason not to respond to Chan, jogging towards the models instead. “Thank you, everyone!” You bow to them. “There are some snacks left inside so please eat before you go, or you may take them home.”

You can still feel Minho’s eyes on you, following you wherever you run with the sweetest kind of fondness that makes it hard for you to question him. He’s like a prince who comes from another kingdom after crossing the long bridge and fighting in the wild forest. He stands there in front of your castle, waiting for you to deem him worthy of your love, of you.

How do you say no to that?

But how do you know if he sees you the way you feel he does?

After that night, you’ve had other dreams—the ones you never told him—each dream etched itself into your mind, filling in the empty spaces slowly but surely. They become a part of you so naturally that you’re convinced you somehow lived them.

“What are you thinking about?”

Minho has just finished loading the last box of props into Chan’s car trunk, now waiting for you to break your train of thoughts with an amused smile. You barely hear Chan and Hyunjin saying goodbye before they enter the car, leaving the two of you alone.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

Minho’s smile is long gone, his expression mirroring yours: confused, lost, a bit scared. “Are you okay?”

Even your 18 year-old self knew what to do then. A bit late, but she did it. The thought of embracing her as a part of you is making you nauseous, the acknowledgement of having a past you don’t remember is disturbingly scary.

“Those dreams... they were real, right? Those are my memories.”

Your stomach churns when Minho nods, surprisingly calmer than you expected. He pulls out a CD out of his bag, carefully slipping it into your hand. The thin plastic feels heavy in your hold, the world as you know it crumbling at the realization that this Lee Minho was the same boy who had your heart in his palm and broke it.

“I tried to picture this situation in my head every single day, but never had the courage to actually tell you. I’m so sorry Y/N. For everything, then and now.”

Lee Minho, the one who sees you as his moonlight, was also the one whose heart could never be yours.

“I’m Lee Minho. We’re both from Gimpo, and we met at high school. We were best friends, then sometime during 11th grade we started dating. You were this amazing, lovely girl who wore your heart on your sleeves, and I was the asshole who failed to realize how blessed I was to have you.”

Minho pauses to look into your eyes, the sorrow in his orbs triggers the tears you refuse to shed. “I became your boyfriend because I didn’t want to lose you,” he continues. “I was stupid, wasn’t I? Stupid and inconsiderate. All I had to do was tell you how I felt…”

"B-but why?” you sob. “Y-you l-lied to me, Minho. Again.”

“I did. Fuck. I did,” he admits. “You have every right to never ever forgive me. But Y/N, I never meant to play with your feelings. I was too late, but I loved you then. I love you now, and I don’t think I’ll be able to love anyone else even if I try.”

Phase 2: Forgotten Days

“A mug?”

Minho hums as an answer while copying your English homework in a speed of light, failing to answer your questions about why, out of all things he could buy in Japan, he decided to gift you a mug. You let out a huff when he leaves your next question hang in the air (“How did you know that I needed a new mug?”), but lets him be since the bell will ring in 15 minutes.

The purple mug is quite heavy and somehow that makes your heart flutter. Minho gave all the other classmates green tea Kit Kats and keychains, but he was willing to fit the bulky mug into his tiny suitcase for you.

You don’t know what’s going on inside his head most of the time, for all you know he could’ve bought the mug because he forgot to buy something for you and decided to grab the first thing in sight. It’s just a little gift, something you should just appreciate without thinking too much about it, but you can’t help but wonder. Sometimes you feel sorry for yourself for overanalyzing Minho’s every little gesture, trying to guess how much he likes you.

“I’m done!” Minho exclaims, returning your book before grabbing his wallet. He finally looks into your eyes, smiling at you as he ruffles your hair. “Gotta grab some snacks. You want anything? Strawberry milk? Chips?”

When he comes back with both although you told him you only wanted chips, Minho argues that he knows you’ll get hungry in the middle of lessons. Again, it shouldn’t feel so special, but he’s looking at you now, you and no one else. Lee Minho is like an enigma, but at times like this, you bask in his bright smile and everything is forgotten.

Summer is the enemy you’ve managed to beat every single year, but combine the scorching heat with excruciating cramps and you don’t stand a chance. You peek into the practice room once again, but Minho is still practicing his dance routines, his phone laid neglected at the corner of the room. The supposed-to-be 30 minutes practice turns into an hour, and you decide to just wait outside since you don’t have energy to go home on your own.

The door opens when you’re on the verge of passing out, luckily someone has caught you before you collapse on the floor. “Y/N,” Minho’s voice forces you to open your eyes. “What happened?”

“… cramps…”

He lifts you and dashes to the infirmary without saying anything else, yelling at some other students to “fucking move!” while trying not to trip over his undone shoelaces. You try to tell him that you’re alright, just a little tired from enduring the pain but he gives you no chance to talk.

Minho finally stays still after kicking the infirmary’s door to no avail. He makes no other attempt to open the door, slowly making eye contact with your drowsy eyes. You love seeing fire in Minho’s eyes, especially when he dances or plays with his friends. This is the first time Minho sees you with such intensity, but this is not the passionate flame you’ve been craving to see. This fire is destructive, painful. It breaks your heart that he’s looking at you like this, like you’re the source of all unfortunate events that happens in his life.

You feel like you’re the unfortunate event in his life, and the thought is enough to make you break free from his bruising grip, pushing the door open yourself.

“Go back to practice,” you tell him, sitting on one of the beds. “I’ll lie down for a bit then go home.”

Minho rummages through the medicine cupboard, taking a painkiller pill and fills an empty glass with warm water. “Drink this, I’ll take you home.”

“I’m fine, Minho…”

He shakes his head. “You’re sick and I’m taking you home.”

Too weak to argue, you swallow the pill and let him walk you home. Minho keeps his hand around your shoulder the whole time, not even bothering to check his ringing phone. He doesn’t talk to you either, and at this rate the silence is more concerning than your cramps.

“Can you go up on your own?” he murmurs when you reach your apartment building. “I have to go back to school, but I’ll stop by later.”

You only nod, about to wave him goodbye when he reaches for your arm. “Wait.”

Minho cups your face, pressing his lips on yours and stealing your breath away. Soon, he starts kissing you harder, but his lips still feel cold against yours and he still feels so faraway even when he’s gripping your waist like his life depends on it.

“Minho,” you manage to rasp, cradling his face to stop him from planting another kiss on your lips. He opens his eyes, staring at you with those beautiful eyes that, sadly, never really shine for you. “Your friends are waiting.”

Still panting, Minho gives you a nod before pulling away. The fire you saw in his eyes earlier has died out.

As you watch him walk away, you finally realize that you’ve been asking yourself the wrong question. It’s not about how much Minho likes you, it’s about whether he likes you at all.

If Minho could choose only one person to be with for the rest of his life, he would choose you. He enjoyed watching movies with you, he loved sending his silly selfies to you, he always wanted to end a tiring day by talking to you all night long.

He can still do that, you’re still his friend. The only difference is that he can hug and kiss you and tell other people that he’s yours. Minho doesn’t know why he lets the words “boyfriend and girlfriend” change the dynamics between the two of you, but it’s too late to undo everything.

“Can we just be friends again?” he repeats the question in his head over and over, yet he can never voice it out. The look in your eyes will be too devastating for him to bear, and he will you lose you forever.

“I’m outside,” he tells you over the phone, trying not to flinch at your excited “Oh!”

A few minutes later, you step out of the elevator, walking towards him with big steps.

“Feeling better?” he asks, noting the way your eyes light up at the question.

“Hmm. I took a short nap and it’s gone.”

Minho sighs. “Don’t wait for me next time. If I take too long, you can just go home. I’m sorry that I let you wait around like that.”

The last sentence causes you to lower your gaze, seemingly self-conscious with the fact that he forgot you were waiting for him. “Bought you some ice cream,” Minho says, trying to distract you from your thoughts. “Chocolate, vanilla, mint choco, it’s all there.”

“As an apology?” you half-tease, the tinge of sadness in your voice causes Minho’s heart to clench a little.

He quickly pulls you into his arms, resting his chin on the top of your head. “Yes and no,” he murmurs into your hair. Part of him is relieved when you don’t question his answer, only humming against his chest before wrapping your arms around him. It’s so easy to make you happy and it angers him. You’re too kind. Too patient. Too loyal. You’re too in love with him, and it hurts not being able to feel the same.

But as the warmth of your body starts to comfort his senses, Minho realizes this is where he wants to be. He wants to be with you, no matter what the labels are. “If you miss the last bus you’re gonna have to walk all the way home,” you remind him, voice muffled since neither of you wants to let go.

“One more minute,” he replies, fingers playing with the hole on your shirt. He places one feathery kiss there, a silent promise that he’s going to try his best loving you. The one promise that could have made you stay, but it remained unsaid until the day you left him.

“Surprise!”

Minho lets out a yelp, coughing up confetti that you pop right in front of face. His parents, standing a few steps behind you, are giggling at their son’s reaction. “I thought you had to go somewhere with your mom!” he exclaims, the surprise in his eyes is now replaced by confusion and… annoyance?

You quietly step aside, letting him shake off the confetti as you’re trying to find your voice. Minho’s parents don’t seem to notice the tension, laughing and explaining that they invited you over for the family birthday dinner.

His mother ushers both of you to the dining room where the feast awaits. “After all this time you still haven’t introduced Y/N to Soonie!” she protests jokingly while the said cat is purring at you. Coming over to Minho’s house without his knowledge sounded like a terrible idea right from the start, but now you really wish you had turned the offer down. The birthday boy only pats you on the back before telling you to sit down, and you spend the rest of the dinner conversing without ever looking at each other in the eyes. That’s no surprise, what surprises you is the fact that you don’t even bother trying to get him look at you.

After 2 years, you’re finally tired of waiting for Minho to love you.

“Soonie doesn’t usually like strangers,” Minho says as you’re walking to the bus stop. “But he really likes you.”

“Do you?”

“What?”

“Like me. Do you like me?”

Minho chuckles. “What kind of question is that?”

Words are bubbling inside your head, all emotions threatening to spill out you have to literally swallow them down. It feels like the world has come to a stop—the realization that your world has been revolving around Minho all this time makes you feel queasy.

“Y/N?”

You want to explode. You wish you can explode. There’s nothing you want more than taking out every piece of your broken heart, count all of them and show him how much you’ve been hurting. You thought your love was enough for both of you, but the bigger your love grew, the farther the distance between the two of you became.

Minho keeps his gaze on you as you’re mustering up courage to ask the most heartbreaking question. “Why?” you quiver. “Why do you pretend that you like me? Why do you bother doing that for 2 years?”

“I-I like you. So much,” he stutters. “Just not in the same way you like me…”

Blinking your tears away, you return his tormented gaze. “Then why did you let me like you alone? Every fucking day you let me wonder how much you like me, if I mean anything to you… I wait for you, convincing myself that you must’ve liked me if you chose to be my boyfriend. But it’s just a game to you, isn’t it?”

Lee Minho has always had his own way to love. You’ve seen him showering those around him with love in ways that seem so ordinary that people often take it for granted. But you see and feel everything, including hints that your feelings have always been one sided. You bury all those hints, telling yourself that he only needs time.

That time never comes, and you have run out of lies and excuses and hope to cover up for both of you.

Phase 3: Chasing Moonlight

The Queen lived under a spell all this time, believing that the foreign kingdom was her whole world while she didn’t even have a home to begin with.

But the ruins of her castle—the only thing that’s left of the kingdom she tried to understand her whole life—will become one. She’s going to build herself a new kingdom, one that she knows by heart, and call it home.

“Noona!!! I’m going home!!! Don’t stay there too long!!! You’ll get sick!!!”

You tear your gaze from the cloudy sky as Hyunjin shouts at you from the ground. You dismiss him with a little wave, forcing a small smile so that the boy will leave instead of going back to the rooftop.

“He’s right,” Chan adds. “You’ve been here for hours.”

After showing up at work with puffy eyes and hoarse voice, Chan attempted to send you home, but you insisted to complete some of your tasks before breaking down during lunch after Hyunjin accidentally revealed that he would meet Seungmin at Eat Here.

So here you are, finally sated after crying all the tears you had left at the rooftop during the remaining working hours.

“I’m fine,” you croak, cringing at your own voice. “You can leave.”

“And let you stay here until you’re all stiff and frozen?”

“Just let me be pathetic for one more day.”

He furrows his brows. “You’re not being pathetic. After what he’s done to you, weeping is the least you should do.”

You let out your first laugh of the day. “I surely wept.”

Looking incredibly relieved that you haven’t lost the ability to feel other emotions than sadness, Chan continues, “Wanna talk about it?”

“Do you know what hurts the most?”

He takes the longest time to think, but shakes his head at the end.

“The fact that I’ll probably never see him again.”

“That’s supposed to be a good thing, but go on.”

“Should I give him one last chance? Or should I just hate him until I die? What’s the right thing to do? What should I do to heal? What should he do to heal? All these questions are driving me insane.”

Those questions are the easiest to answer, so you expect Chan to sigh and tell you to snap out of it, but he just smiles at you. “What do you want to do?”

“Huh?”

“Have you tried answering your own questions? What you want to do is what you’re supposed to do. It’s easy, my dear friend.”

“I want to…”

Your mind wanders to last night, recalling that agony on Minho’s face that mirrors your own. A small part of you wants him to suffer for the rest of his life, consumed by guilt and the sheer horror of being erased from someone else’s memories.

“I want to curse him out.”

Chan playfully smacks your head. “You didn’t do that?”

“My mind went blank, then I started crying. That wasn’t cool at all, I know,” you huff. “I should’ve told him to go to hell or something.”

“After that? What do you want to do?”

You bury your face into your palms, ignoring the teasing tone in Chan’s questions. “The last time we talked, you were Lee Minho’s #1 hater. What happened?”

“I just wanted him to be honest with you. I never hated him,” he tells you softly. “Do you?”

You may never get all of your memories back, but the ones you can remember are enough to know that being with Minho used to be a silent torture. He was a thorny rose, beautiful yet unattainable. You wanted him so much you refused to look down and see your bloody fingers. The thorns were stuck there for the longest time, eventually infecting your soul until you were too weak to heal yourself.

But he’s not that boy anymore. He’s just Minho who listens to all of your rambles and actually keeps all those details in his mind. He gives you the warmest hugs and the most sincere kisses. He stays by your side, and you will always want him to stay.

When you finally lift your head to answer Chan, he gives you his reassuring smile that never fails to make you feel better. It’s the first time he’s talking about Minho without a frown, and you hope it’s a good sign. “Like I said,” he sing-songs. “Do what you want to do.”

The sound of footsteps approaching prompts you to curl yourself into a ball, trying to make yourself as invisible as possible under the dining the table. Jeongin manages to push the heavy door open after a few tries, mumbling that you’re not going to take the “king of hide and seek” title from him. You can’t help but giggle at his determination, waiting for him to find you while he’s scanning the whole room.

“Minho hyung!”

You stay still, not wanting to fall into the 5 year-old’s tricks so easily… until you hear Minho’s voice calling the little boy’s name. “What are you guys playing? Where’s Y/N?”

“We’re playing hide and seek,” Jeongin answers, his eyes still as sharp as a hawk. “I’ve found everyone, only Y/N noona is left!”

Minho hums. “Want me to help you find her?”

You don’t hear Jeongin responding, but the next thing you see is a pair of pretty eyes staring into yours. “Found her,” Minho murmurs.

Jeongin pulls you out with a huge grin on his face. “I knew you were there! Thanks for helping me, hyung.”

Minho ruffles the boy’s head before gazing back at you. “If you’re thankful, can I borrow her for a second? We just need to talk, then she’s all yours.”

You can’t find the strength to say no, hoping Jeongin will somehow be clingy this time. “Are you guys fighting?” he asks instead.

“Do you think we’re fighting?”

Jeongin nods, his sparkly eyes turn gloomy. “If I let you talk, will you make up?”

Minho glances at you. “I don’t know… I made a huge mistake.”

“Did you make her cry?”

“Yeah,” Minho confirms, voice thick with remorse and you’re not sure how long you can pretend to be okay in front of Jeongin.“I’m a bad person, aren’t I?”

You crouch down, pinching the boy’s pout with an endearing smile. “I promise nothing bad will happen. Can we go outside now? I’m sure everyone is waiting for you.”

Still a bit sullen, he links his hand with yours and lets you lead him out, Minho trailing behind the two of you. Once you’re back at the garden, Jeongin whispers into your ear, “I’ll always be your friend, noona. I won’t hurt you.”

“Of course you won’t,” you laugh. “I’ll join you soon, okay?”

Minho turns to you as soon as Jeongin goes back to his friends, studying your expressions carefully. You want to tell him so many things, yet the only words you can produce are, “Fuck you, Lee Minho.”

You feel slightly lighter when Minho says nothing to defend himself, sitting on the grass before gesturing at you to do the same. It fuels your need to let out the pain you previously sealed inside your heart, ironically basking in his comforting presence as you do so.

“The whole time I felt like something was missing. You knew that, then went on hiding the rest of the puzzle pieces and left me there, incomplete. Just like that.”

This isn’t your first time baring your heart to Minho, the last time you did it you were left with such immeasurable pain that erasing a part of your brain—your soul—sounded like a better choice. You wait for the sadness and rage to take over your mind, but the storm never comes. You wonder what makes it different until Minho shifts to look at you in the eye.

Minho is looking at you with those pretty eyes like you’re the only one he can see. It’s not just a sweet dream you tried to dream of every night when you were 17. You’re no longer the only one who’s wearing your heart on your sleeves.

“Am I doing this because I feel guilty or because I genuinely want to be with you?” he begins. “Believe me Y/N, I spent months trying to find the answer and justify what I did, but I guess you can never exactly separate those two feelings.”

His confession is bittersweet; you know it won’t end all your personal battles. You still have to fight them, help yourself to understand why you are thinking and acting the way you are. The gaps have been filled, and now you have to be the one who define yourself.

“I thought I could just treat you better for the rest of our lives. I was sure my love would be enough to heal you. That was very stupid and selfish of me, and I’m sorry. You’re free to hate me, push me away, ruin my life… the decision is yours. But I don’t wanna hide how I feel anymore. Not from you.”

You’re still pondering his words when Jeongin comes to check on you, making sure Minho isn’t making you cry again.

“No, Jeongin, I’m fine. Look? I’m not crying!” you reassure the pouty kid.

He beams at you with his toothy smile. “Really?! Did you make up? Friends have to forgive each other!”

“I know, sweetheart,” you coo. “And yes, we made up. Friends forgive each other.”

Minho shoots you a surprised look, but you ignore him until you convince Jeongin that he can continue playing. “I don’t know whether we can go back to what we were,” you tell him, gazing at the clear sky. “I still need time to process everything, but I was afraid that I wouldn’t ever see you again. So we can be friends, if you want.”

He chuckles, eyes sparkling and hopeful. “Hi. I’m Lee Minho.”

“I’m Y/N,” you reply. “Anyways, Lee Minho my new friend, how did you know that I’m here?”

“Your scary friend Bang Chan told me you’d be here.”

“So you think Chan is scary.”

Minho does something that’s between a shrug and a shudder. “He’s always shooting daggers at me how do you not notice?!”

As you and Minho spend the rest of the day laughing and enjoying the sun, you rediscover the magic of following your heart.

It’s heavenly.

To Minho, there are only okay days and good days. Bad days almost never happen, but today is a bad day. Everything started from Eat Here’s fruit supplier sending them the wrong strawberries, then Seungmin called in sick minutes before his shift started, and now he has to deal with a couple whose order hasn’t been processed since 40 minutes ago.

“I apologize for the inconvenience. We’re processing your order now and it will be on us. Jisung, we need another 2 glasses of lemonade—”

“We need our food, not—”

Minho’s lips stretch into a thin smile, the kind of smile he hates because you once said you could sense that he was faking it. His business smile is the only that can save him now, so he ignores the fact that you’re watching the whole chaos and says, “It will be on us. You’re going to need more drinks while waiting.”

After making sure that he’s appeased the angry customers, Minho goes back to the small table at the corner where you’re waiting for him. He can no longer mask his fatigue and annoyance when you lay your eyes on him, all he wants now is to hold you in his arms and sleep everything away. He knows he can’t ask you for more, he’s already getting more than he deserves since you agreed to be friends with him again.

He’s undeniably the luckiest man in the whole galaxy, but it’s human instincts to always want more. There are days when his longing for you is too much to handle, and today is one of those days.

His train of thoughts is interrupted when a cold glass is pressed against his cheek. “Minho?”

“Huh?”

Your eyes crinkle knowingly when he focuses his eyes on you again. “I want to listen to you ranting but I really need to go now. Chan needs me back at the office.”

“Okay,” he answers rather brashly. “Thanks for stopping by.”

Minho almost pouts the way Jeongin does (that pout always gets him) whenever the two of you are going home, luckily he stops himself just in time, opting to wonder what will happen if he tells you that he wants you to stay just a minute longer instead.

You make your way to the door, but not without stopping to give him one last advice, “You better not complain that everything is annoying every 5 seconds if you want that new guy to last more than a day. He’s been looking like a lost quokka!”

Your “warning” came out a bit too loud than you expected. Of course, it reaches Han “that new guy” Jisung’s ears and Minho hopes he remembers to give the poor kid a slice of cheesecake for free after his shift ends. You flash him an apologetic smile, turning to Jisung to convince him that his boss isn’t as bad as he seems before your phone rings.

“He’s harmless, Jisung, just make him iced Americano everyday, praise his cats, and you’re good. Okay, I have to go now or I’ll be jobless in an hour! Byeee!”

Minho’s mouth has curled into a lovesick smile at your antics, waving at you until you close the door of your car. The way you naturally calm him down surprises him everytime, it’s like you’re unaware of how much power you have over him.

God, you really own every inch of his heart, don’t you?

Second chances are overrated.

People change, but once you pay attention to them a just a liiiitle more, you realize that they’re still the same. Lee Minho believes he doesn’t deserve any second chance from you, yet he finds himself seeking forgiveness the moment he looked into your eyes again. As selfish as it sounds, Minho wants your love. Nobody else’s, just yours.

He tried to fill in the empty space you left with other people, but none of them fit. It was always too much or too little, punching him right in his gut for ever thinking that what you two had was too much, that you were too much.

Seeing you fast asleep in his living room with Soonie, Doongie and Dori is another reminder that you were never too much.

You were, and still are, his everything.

Dori opens her eyes before jumping out of your arms, making you stir. Minho quietly strokes your hair to lull you back to sleep, but soon your eyes flutter open as well. “Hmmm look who’s here… the hottest man alive,” you mumble.

Minho points at himself. “Not that I’m surprised, but thank you.”

Your sleepy smile and the breathy chuckle that comes after make his stomach flip. It’s just a simple reaction, something you probably didn’t realize doing, but it feels breathtakingly intimate and loving to Minho. A small part of you that only him can see, something that will cross his mind sometime during work, making him wish time to pass quickly so he can rush back home. To you.

Damn, he promised himself not to let him picture a life with you as the love of his life, but look at his defense crumbling right in front of you because of a mere smile.

You seem to notice his dilemma, lips forming another smile. Opening your arms, you whisper, “Come here.”

The voices in his head are drowned by your request, it’s echoing inside his head like a deathly spell. You have him in your embrace nanoseconds later, curling your hands around his neck as he completely succumbs to his longing.

Minho’s head buzzes with the need to tell you that he loves you, wants you, and misses you to the point that he almost asks you to please please please please forgive him and take him back.

“Okay.”

He lifts his head from the crook of your neck, eyes flickering to yours. You chuckle at his reaction, cupping his cheeks with your warm hands. “Say that again.”

“Say… what again?”

Minho blinks up at you, tiny groans of regret escaping his lips when he realizes that he just spilled everything out loud. “I’m sorry,” he sighs. “I wasn’t supposed to say that. I know this isn’t about me, but—”

“Did you mean it, though?”

“Of course I did,” Minho says. “But I want to go according to your pace.”

“If I didn’t want the same thing I wouldn’t be here, Minho.” Your voice is as sweet as honey, hypnotizing him into dropping his hopeless pretense. “I’ve built a new home that truly feels like home. It’s probably just a small house, filled with everything that makes me me. But it feels like a beautiful kingdom, and it’s not complete without you in it.”

You don’t have to say it; the way you hold his gaze with such a raw, pure sincerity and the way you asked him to be with you as if he’s the best person in the whole world are enough to let Minho know that he’s all forgiven.

Feeling a tug at his shirt, he meets your expectant eyes once again. “Are you going to continue staring at me like that until we fall asleep?”

The last traces his fear for disappointing you melts away as you start stroking his hair. “I love you,” he rasps, unconsciously leaning in until his lips brush over yours. “My precious moonlight, I’ll do my best so you won’t ever have to erase me again. I love you, Y/N, please don’t leave me.”

You barely manage to nod before Minho finally crashes his lips against yours, not giving you any chance to steal a breath as he lets his feelings overtake himself. He explores every part of your lips like a madman and you accept whatever he gives you, trying to keep up with his feverish kisses and letting him know that he doesn’t need to hold back.

The sudden urge to see you encourages him to pull away. Minho says nothing for a while, only looking into your eyes with silent adoration. Still breathless, you prop yourself up to reward him with a chaste kiss on the tip of his nose, the sweet gesture causing Minho to attack you with a series of playful smooches.

“How long do you think this will last?” you ask in between kisses, giggling when Minho switches your positions, you’re now lying on top of him.

“This?”

You pinch his cheek. “I gotta admit it feels kinda nice to hear you saying please so many times.”

Minho arches an eyebrow at your cheeky remark. “Is that so? Wait until you find out how much I like hearing you beg.”

“Minho!” you exclaim, dropping your head on his chest to hide your flushed cheeks. He wraps his arms around you, ready to make you even more flustered before accidentally locking eyes with his cats. You lift your head when you feel his body stills, following his gaze.

“Oh no,” you murmur. “The kids saw that, didn’t they?”

He smiles sheepishly at each of them, somehow feeling like he’s gotten caught by his parents. “This kind of thing happens when you love someone,” he attempts to joke. “So get used to it, okay kiddos?”

You nudge his chest with your chin. “God, you’re shameless.”

“They’re cats!”

“Then why are your ears so red?!”

Minho tuts. “That’s it. We need to do this more often so they’ll get used to it.”

As he silences you with another searing kiss, Minho almost malfunctions at how addicting and comforting it is to have you as his again. It’s impossible to fathom all of his feelings for you into words, yet he still hopes you’ll feel every single one of them.

And you do, because Minho is yours. Entirely yours.

“How did you pass your driving test? Did you bribe them or something?”

Hyunjin doesn’t bother to answer Seungmin’s accusation, eyes glued to the road.

“Watch it,” Minho warns monotonously while you’re gripping his hand, too scared to witness the younger trying to drive. Seungmin shrieks in horror when Hyunjin hits the break almost too late. He glares at the passenger seats where you and Minho are seated. “Hyung can you just take over? Or at least switch seats with me?”

“I can’t.” He points at you. “Y/N is scared as hell and I’m not gonna let you hold her hand.”

Hyunjin curses under his breath when several other cars pass him. “Give me a break! This is my first time driving at the highway,” he argues. “And I was supposed to borrow Chan hyung’s car! Driving your car makes it even ten times scarier!”

“Hey, what’s wrong with my car?!” your boyfriend protests.

The three men continue talking over each other, causing you to roar, “SHUT UP!! Hwang Hyunjin, if you take your hands off the wheels you’re gonna die before you even scratch the car!”

Twenty painful minutes later, Hyunjin succeeds in parallel parking the car with the help of a very frustrated Seungmin. The two boys are heading to the orphanage right away, leaving you and Minho alone for your little date.

Minho opens the trunk, setting it up quickly before pulling you to sit beside him, handing you one of the toasts he packed this morning. “Whoa, the moony park is even more beautiful during the day,” you muse, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Minho agrees. “Should we come here more often at this hour?”

“It doesn’t matter, as long as you’re with me.”

Minho snorts at your cheesy answer, but you still sense his wary from the way he keeps glancing at you from time to time. “Is this about the erasure recording you found in my room yesterday? Is that why you took me here?”

“I’m just wondering why you’re still keeping it. I thought we agreed to destroy it,” he says, doing his best to conceal his uneasiness. You initially thought it was a great idea to forget it ever happened, but no, you’re not running away. You want to accept all the consequences of the decisions you have made, especially this one.

“We did, but then I realized I didn’t want to. I don’t want to erase anything anymore, Minho. I want to live life as it is. It’s a memento from the most important period of my life, and while it hurts, it’s a part of me.” You throw your arms around him, squeezing his body until he turns to you and return your hug. “It’s also a reminder that what we have is stronger than anything, don’t you think? I erased you and I still fell in love with you again. Like an idiot.”

Relief washes over you when Minho chuckles, carefree and amused. “You’re not an idiot,” he teases. “You just have an exceptional taste, and I’m way too irresistible. Let’s face it, you were already crazy for me even before I gave you my card.”

“No I wasn’t! I just thought you were attractive!”

“I am the hottest man alive.”

You sigh. “You’ll never let me live it down.”

“No,” he affirms. “Because you’re right. It’s time to stop trying to forget our past. I’ll never forget the fact that you’re calling me the hottest man alive, just like I’ll never forget how much I’ve hurt you. And how much I’ll always try to make it up to you.”

You laugh at his comparison. “I honestly can’t tell whether we’re having a serious conversation or just trolling each other.”

“It’s my talent, baby. Life is always fun with me.”

Although the park has become more crowded and your boyfriend is never big on PDA, you have no choice but giving him a kiss on his cheek. “You don’t have to do anything for me,” you whisper. “Just love me.”

“Hmm.” His lips stretch into a loving smile, the one smile reserved for your eyes only. “That I do.”

Minho isn’t a prince charming who sweeps you off your feet. He is your wandering prince and you’re his moonlight, illuminating his gloomy world. You show him that he doesn’t have to wander for the rest of his life, that he can call you home and stay.

And Minho will always be with you, showering you with the love you deserve. He’ll be the one who fight the demons for you and with you, he’ll be the one who reminds you over and over again how strong and precious you are whenever you lose faith in yourself. Together, you are moonlit. Together, you are complete.

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jhoudiey · 4 years ago

Text

You like to play God, don't you?

Wrote this fic a while back, #ChickenChallenge starts trending on magicam again, and Yoru ends up trying to distract herself with her friends. Ends up watching Jade as he builds a terrarium, and ends with dumb and dumber fluff. 1825 words.

hey you’re that chicken girl from NRC right?

Yoru stared at her phone. Idia had finally updated it so that she was able to use it freely, her hands no longer an issue on the touch screen. She normally didn’t pay attention to notifications, but had texted him earlier that night hoping to hang out, instead her magicam had exploded, messages popping in so quickly she could hardly keep track

show me ur feet

where else do you have feathers?

check it out, I’ve got weird feet too!

Whoa! Is that from a magic accident!? Crazy!!

omg ur disgustingggggg!!!!

you fucking freak!

ahahahaha no way your real. You’re like a chicken!!!!

can you send me a pic of your chicken feet? They’re so freaky I wanna show my friend!

you ever jerked a guy off with those? Do you want to?

She stared at the picture of the penis in her inbox with disgust, is this how normal people communicated? Why were all these people she didn’t know suddenly messaging her anyway? It was already past midnight, didn’t they have anything better to do? She exited her messages and found there had been a series of throwback posts from NRC Halloween, #ChickenChallenge was trending again. She sighed and closed the application, having lived through that once had been enough, she had no desire to repeat the experience online.

Idia still hadn’t texted her back, but her mood was soured. Focusing on her alchemy work wasn’t enough to distract her from the constant buzzing coming from her phone.

“Fuck this” she grumbled, throwing her phone onto her bed before launching herself out the window. She didn’t need to wait for a text back from Idia, she’d just show up, the same as always.

As luck would have it, however, Idia was busy. He wasn’t gaming as was usual for him at this time of night, but was in the middle of a video chat with Vita, making it much more awkward to sit in the corner of his room quietly. She didn’t want to know what they talked about when it was just the two of them. She wandered back out of the dorm, hesitating in the Hall of Mirrors. It was late, she should just go home...but… he might still be awake too.

She knocked on the door tucked down the halls of Octavinelle dorm, silently cursing herself for going down there in the first place.

“Come in”

Jade welcomed her into his and Floyd’s shared room, a small smile painted on his lips. He was in his pajamas, though clearly invested in building a terrarium, plants and stones laid out carefully on his desk in front of him. She spied Floyd, his pajama shirt discarded on the floor beside his bed, fast asleep curled around one of his pillows facing away from them. He’d likely turned away from the lamp light Jade had kept on as he worked.

“Ahh, I guess it is too late, I’ll go” Yoru mumbled looking between them, she’d never gotten along comfortably with Jade.

“You can stay. I don’t mind, Yoru-san,” He held his hand out to offer Floyd's desk chair to her “Would you care to join me? Clearly something is the matter or you wouldn’t have come by so late. I do know how much you loathe to be here.”

She hesitated.

If she stayed, she’d have to deal with his casual cruelty and observant eye, if she left she may have to deal with another dozen messages about how she was a disgusting bird freak who really should be embarrassed to look like that, not that she needed the reminder. She sighed and crawled onto the chair, her legs tucked in against her body, arms clutched around them as she watched Jade work. He was meticulous.

Like everything he did, every movement was measured, everything planned well in advance to come together just as he imagined it.

“Is this what you normally spend your weekends doing?” She asked, her eyes following his graceful hands as he arranged some moss.

“Hmm, it is something I am quite fond of, yes.”

“Why? Wouldn’t it be better to keep a garden or something? What’s the point of this?”

He laughed quietly.

“This is what humans call ‘a hobby’ I believe. The point is to enjoy it, Yoru-san.”

She rested her chin on her knees, her eyes drifting across his desk to the discarded pieces of clothing on the floor near Floyd's bed. She felt Jade watching her and turned her gaze back to him.

“But why do you enjoy it? What’s so good about building a tiny garden in a jar?”

“You mean what’s so entertaining about creating and controlling an entire ecosystem one can hold in their hands? I wonder…”

She snorted.

“Ahhh, so it’s just something else you can manipulate. Makes sense.” She grinned at him, his hands expertly arranging rocks along the bottom of the jar.

“How cruel, Yoru-san, to suggest my innocent hobby is anything but… I can’t deny the implications though.”

“Hah, so you admit it then. No wonder you like it...” She chuckled, her eyes wandering once again to Floyds sleeping form, his back slowly rising and falling with his breaths.

“Admit it? No, I simply enjoy when certain things go as planned” He smirked at her. He’d caught her wandering eyes twice now, though she was trying to hide it. She hadn’t come here to see him, after all. She faced him again, not wanting to meet his eyes instead focusing on his hands.

“Do you ever add bones?”

“Oya? What is it you’re trying to imply, Yoru-san?”

“...They’d be good for the soil. I can bring you some, if you need.”

“I suppose that would raise fewer questions than gathering them myself...Thank you.”

“Mmmm” She nodded with her head still on her knees, content to watch him in silence. He was building a whole planet before her, a God playing with nature to whatever suited his whim. A rock here, moss there… no wait… over there instead. It was fascinating and tedious at the same time. His hands weaved patterns from nothing, a garden blossoming from his fingertips. She felt her attention slipping and closed her eyes, the soft tinkling of his tools being drowned out by the slow tide of Floyd's slumbering breath. She tilted her head towards him, her own breathing slowing to match his like the sea lazily lapping at the shore.

“Why don’t you lie down with him, Yoru-san? I don’t mind” Jades voice cut through her dreamy haze, jolting her upright.

“What? No. Huh?” She stuttered, horrified that Jade had somehow known the comfort she felt in that moment. “I’ve gotta go, I must have fallen asleep. Bye Jade” She hurried to leave, bumping into Floyd's desk in her haste. The precariously stacked books toppled over and fell to the floor, making an awful racket in the near silent bedroom.

“Oh shit, sorry!’ She whispered in a panic, hoping she hadn’t woken Floyd. She scooped to pick the books up, her wings threatening to topple the chair she had been sitting in just moments ago. Jade laughed as he watched her struggle.

“Fufufu, Yoru-san. You seem quite flustered, did something I say upset you? Perhaps my suggestion to sleep with Floyd-”

“No!” She yammered quickly. Too quickly. “No, I’m just tired. I have to go!” She pushed the books back onto the desk haphazardly and turned to leave, hoping that Jade hadn’t caught sight of her face, red as it was sure to be. How could he have known what she was thinking?

“Hmmpppfff” Floyd whined, wrapping his arms around her waist, his face buried in feathers. “You’re too loud, Fugu-chan, be more quiet”

Jade smirked at the pair of them as Yoru struggled to free herself from his grasp. Floyd whined into her back, dragging her into his bed so he could go back to sleep.

“Yoru-san, it’s better if you don’t fight him, he can be quite insistent when he wants something” She knew he was right. To get free she’d have to peel him off of her, and with how tightly he held her it would be hard, Floyd really was too damn strong. She sighed and stopped resisting, feeling her feet leave the floor as he flipped her over him to settle her between his body and the wall.

He murmured wordlessly as he shifted around her wings, careful not to pull out any feathers accidentally. He settled between them, his head resting slightly above hers, his face nestled in her hair, body pressed tightly against hers. She was glad Jade couldn’t see her anymore, she could feel him watching them still, but with their faces turned away from him he wouldn’t be able to read her expression. She felt like her heart was going to beat out of her chest, she was sure Floyd must have felt it too, though if he did he made no mention of it. This wasn’t what she’d had in mind when she had come over, all she had wanted was to chat a bit, to forget about the people on magicam trying to ruin her night. She had to admit though… This was nice too. Ever since spring break they’d been more comfortable with each other physically, Floyd often clinging to her whenever he slept over, but so far that hadn’t left the confines of her bedroom. No one ever saw how often she clung back, she’d made sure to disengage from his grasp before he woke whenever she found herself too near him. It was much too embarrassing to be found like this, her face burning again knowing that Jade was probably enjoying himself immensely, proven right yet again.

The lamp clicked off, Jade finally retiring, Yoru felt herself finally relaxing. Her body jolted as tension left her, and she laid her arms across Floyd's, drawing lazy circles on the backs of his hands with her fingers. He sighed into her hair and pressed himself against her a little tighter at her touch, fast asleep once more. Yoru closed her eyes knowing it wasn’t safe to fall asleep where she lay, she had to get up and go home or she’d never hear the end of it. 5 more minutes then you have to go home she told herself, but it really was very comfortable, laying with Floyd like this.

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

“Euuuggggghhhh Jaaaaade, turn your alarm offffff” Floyd complained loudly. He was close...too close. Yoru’s eyes snapped open with a start, she’d fallen asleep in his arms.

“Ahhh, I must have forgotten to turn it off. My apologies, you two fufufu”

“Mmmmm~ good morning, Fugu-chan” Floyd murmured as he tightened himself around her once more. She felt him smile as he nuzzled his face into the nape of her neck, her face blazed red once more.

#twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #yoru crowley #jade leech #floyd leech #dumb and dumber #canon x oc #spent all afternoon working on my new oc i forgot i wanted to post this today #whoops #amon coming soon tho

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darlingpetao3 · 4 years ago

Text

One of Those Days (Harry Wells x Reader)

Rating: G

Summary: How many times can you be embarrassed in one day? Pop, rip, and stumble -- just another one of those days at S.T.A.R. Labs!

A/N: Luckily, in real life, I only ripped my jeans when no one was around me and it was in a place no one could see XD

Taglist: @fandomdancer @bluesclues-1234 @pinkdiamond1016 @crissymadlock @ensign-tilly

Of course this had to happen to you today.

You hadn’t noticed previously, but now, as you scramble to get ready for work, it’s pretty obvious that your blouse has shrunk a bit in the wash. Have all of your clothes shrunk? There’s no time to check -- this one will have to do. At least it covers my body, you think.

As you rush to make it to work at the Labs, you wish that you could’ve been the one to get hit with lightning amongst various chemicals. Super speed would be super appreciated right now.

Also abs.

Abs would be super appreciated, too.

You stride into the Cortex in as large and fast steps as possible right on the top of the hour.

Success!

“Aww,” Cisco whines, “I was really looking forward to teasing you about being late again today. I had a great line all locked and loaded.”

“Ha! You’ll just have to keep it to yourself,” you reply. Cisco’s teasing was starting to annoy you immensely as of recently. If you had been late today, and had to hear whatever jab the engineer had ready for you, there’s no doubt the rest of Team Flash would have to lock you in the pipeline to avoid committing a serious beat-down.

You raise your palm into the air. “Talk to the hand, Ramon. But good morning to Caitlin and Barry!” The latter two come out from the testing room.

“Hey, you’re here!” Barry exclaims but immediately seems to regret his choice of words. “I mean, ready for the workplace safety briefing?”

“Ugh,” you, Cisco, and Caitlin complain in unison. At least that’s something you can all agree upon. “I guess so, but where’s Harry?”

“I’m here.”

Speak of the devil -- Harry enters the Cortex with photocopies of the supposed safety manual you’re all meant to study.

“I took the liberty of…” he trails off. “(Y/L/N), there’s something different about you…”

“If it’s that I’m on time, yeah, we’re all amazed.”

But Harry’s eyes drop slightly. Oh hell, the shirt is that noticeably tight, isn’t-

POP.

Suddenly, the buttons on your blouse give up in their fight to keep everything closed and secure. They betray you and reveal your bra to the object of your affection.

“Ah-” is the only awkward noise Harry can make. He stares but a second longer, and in that time, his face turns the colour of a tomato before turning his whole body around.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God!” You can’t help but freak out. Instead of jumping out of your skin, you flee the Cortex, but not before shouting, “Carry on the briefing without me!”

The workday has barely started. Are you kidding me?

I guess it’s going to be one of those days, then.

***

After waiting a calculated amount of time and tracking down the stash of wearable S.T.A.R. Labs paraphernalia, you found that the team safety meeting had concluded. Everyone was back to their respective tasks, and you wandered into the medical lab to work with Caitlin. She’s the last one who would tease you.

“So, do you want to talk about what happened this morning?” Caitlin asks you without looking up.

“Oh what, you mean my horribly embarrassing mishap? I can’t believe that happened. In front of Harry no less!”

After all, Caitlin knows about your giant crush on the scientist. You’re always confiding in her about your hopeless attraction. And you’re certain the others know about the way you feel about Harry, too, just by looking at how you react when you’re around him. The only person whom you suspect is still clueless is Harry himself.

“Yeah, talk about bad luck. He left you a copy of the manual on your desk, by the way.”

You sigh.

“If you’re going to stay in here and avoid Harry all day,” Caitlin continues, “would you mind grabbing me two beakers from the bottom shelf there?”

“Sure thing.”

You sidestep towards the cabinet Caitlin indicated, but when you crouch down, you hear the most frightening sound.

RIIIIIP.

As if every mischievous god in the universe has zoned in on you today, you realize that a huge hole has ripped in the crotch of your jeans. Dammit!! These suckers must have shrunk too!

And wouldn’t you know it, Harry enters the room at this very freaking moment. Your eyes go wide, and Caitlin witnesses your reaction. She understands what has happened and tactically throws you her own S.T.A.R. Labs sweatshirt which had been sitting on the back of a chair.

You catch it expertly and tie it around your waist to hide the colossal tear like your life depends on it.

Harry stops in place, brow furrowed. “What’s with…?” he starts. It must look ridiculous - a S.T.A.R. Labs sweatshirt on top and another identical one tied haphazardly and not in the typical fashion around your waist.

“It’s called style, Wells,” you snap. “What do you want?”

He frowns. “Copper wire. Do you have any spare-?”

A tied band of wire hurtles toward Harry, who grapples at trying to catch the equipment.

“Do I need to remind you of the workplace safety manual, section B?”

“Just go, Wells.”

The perplexed scientist grumbles to himself on his way out of the room.

“Gah, why do my clothes seem to want to destroy themselves every time we’re in the same room?” you ask Caitlin rhetorically. She offers a sympathetic laugh in response.

Later in the day, after you’ve gotten some paperwork and testing done, changed into a full-on walking S.T.A.R. Labs promotion (the joggers are quite nice), and mentally regrouped, you brave a trip to the Workshop.

“Hey,” you say to get Harry’s attention from tinkering with his new gadget. As a reflex, he stands up from his desk at your one, quiet syllable. “I just wanted to apologize for earlier. I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

“Eh, it’s alright,” he replies, in what you perceive as a fake-gruff voice. He’s not that grumpy all the time. Sometimes you think he feigns it to keep up appearances. Harry moves a little closer in your direction but stops to lean back against his desk. “It’s not like I haven’t snapped at everyone else before. Including yourself.”

“Ha, yeah. It’s just been a weird day.”

“We all have those.”

“Yeah…”

You take a step forward, but the heel of your shoe breaks off and you topple over and into his arms.

“Whoa!”

You look up at Harry, with your face burning like a thousand suns.

“Thanks…” you say a bit breathlessly.

“Not-” he clears his throat, “not a problem.”

“Harry?”

“Yes?”

“I can stand now.”

You purposefully hadn’t uttered the words, You can let go of me, because you didn’t necessarily want that. In all honesty, you could have stayed like that for much longer than the ten long seconds it really was.

“Right, sorry.”

Taking off your shoes, you’re about to make another break for it when Harry says something else.

“(Y/L/N)? You might want to have a look at section C of the manual… improper and mildly dangerous footwear.”

#reader insert #harry wells x reader #harry wells imagine #harry wells fanfiction #harrison wells x reader #harrison wells imagine #harrison wells fanfiction #earth 2 harrison wells x reader #earth 2 harrison wells imagine #the flash imagine #the flash fanfiction

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disgruntledspacedad · 4 years ago

Text

Save a Horse

pairing: Javier Peña x reader

summary: (fluff, slice of life) You ride a horse. Javi has a heart attack.

words: 2kish

warnings: language. Utter ignorance of ranch life, but Ears is enthusiastic, at least. No horses were harmed in the writing of this fic.

a/n: unbeta’d.

It was Pop’s idea to start with.

“Have you ever ridden a horse, Orejas?” he breaks the easy morning silence suddenly, resting his empty mug on the counter and shooting you an expression that can only be described as conspiratorial.

“No,” you answer honestly, thinking wryly that Pop certainly knows how to catch your attention.

Beside you, Javi stiffens, and you can feel his gaze heavy on you. He’s been a little jumpy ever since he’d got you back, and with good reason, really. You rest a reassuring hand on his thigh and squeeze, receiving just as much comfort from the gesture as you’re offering.

This man is your rock.

Pop is still watching you expectantly, and you feel your lips tug upward. It’s so easy to smile at Chucho Peña. “But I’m game to try anything twice.”

Pop grins, and Javi blusters a deep sigh.

It’s nice outside. For being early November, the weather is surprisingly mild in Laredo, the air smelling of grass and hay and maybe a little bit of horse, but in a good way. The sunshine is warm on your skin, the sky extending bright blue as far as you can see.

Pop leads you to the stables, prattling on about horses and saddles and other things that you don’t understand in the slightest. Javi follows silently, catching your fingers in a vice grip. His jaw is tense, his brow furrowed in that little frown that seems to be permanently affixed to his face ever since Colombia.

Your heart flip flops, and you stop, pulling him close enough to rest your head on his chest. Automatically, Javi’s arms wrap around you, pulling you in, and he sighs deeply into your hair.

“Freaking out,” you remind him gently.

He huffs a tiny laugh. “I know.”

You lift your lips for a quick kiss, and Javi obliges eagerly. “It’s going to be okay, babe,” you murmur as you pull away.

“I know,” he repeats softly, looking for all the world like he really doesn’t.

“Come on.” You tug at him, noticing Pop carefully not watching you in the distance. “It’ll be fun.”

“I doubt that,” Javi mutters darkly, but he follows anyway.

“This is Caballo,” Pop announces, stopping in front of a freakishly huge black stallion.

Creative, you almost say aloud, reminding yourself to be nice just in time. This man is as good as your father-in-law. It’s probably wise to keep that favorable impression you’ve made.

As if sensing your thought, Pop winks at you. “Javier named him.”

You shoot a little smirk in Javi’s direction, knowing that he’ll pick up on your teasing. He doesn’t rise to your bait, though, the killjoy.

In no time at all, the horses are saddled up and ready to go. Javi is perched atop a cream-colored mare, Cerveza, and Caballo is all yours.

Pop declines to ride, preferring to supervise you from the ground. “He’s very gentle, Orejas,” he tells you as he helps you into the saddle. “Won’t throw you or buck. Not like Cerveza.” He winks up at you. “Es una pequeña perra.”

Together, you laugh. You’ve picked up on enough Spanish curses during your time in Colombia to get the message.

Javi and Pop offer you some last-second advice - relax, sit up straight, and keep the reigns loose - and then you’re off, plod-plod-ploding at a mind-numbingly sedate pace around the fence line.

By the third lap, you are thoroughly, utterly, completely bored.

“I think I’m ready to go faster!” you shout to Pop. “Can I make him go faster?”

Pop tips his hat at you, shooting you a toothy grin. “Tap him on the sides with your heels, Orejas, and say, ‘giddap!’”

“Gently,” Javi warns you sharply.

You shoot him a glare that’s only half-mocking. As if you’d just kick this poor horse in the ribs - god, it’s like Javi doesn’t know you at all.

“Giddap,” you say in your most dignified voice, nudging Caballo with your feet like Pop had told you. Caballo jolts forward, cantering half-heartedly for a couple of steps, then slowing to a walk with a disdainful snort.

Ugh. You toss a questioning glance back at Javi. He’s doing a very poor job of hiding his grin.

Motherfucker.

Pop is smiling, too. “Try it with a little more authority, Orejas!” he advises. “He’s a big animal, and proud. You’ve got to tell him what to do, not ask politely.”

Javi snorts. ”Shouldn’t be too hard.”

You whip around to stare at him, lurching forward when Caballo reacts to your sudden shift in body weight. Behind you, Javi breaks out into snickers.

Well, then.

Exasperated, you decide that Javier Peña is far more of a big, dumb, proud animal than the horse you’re riding, and you manage to climb atop him every day and submit him to your will just fine.

Caballo shouldn’t be a problem.

You square your shoulders, determined to get it right this time, and summon every John Wayne movie you’ve ever seen to the forefront of your mind. It’s not an impressive anthology to pull from - you’re more of a sci-fi kind of girl - but it’s more than enough to get a clear picture in your head of what needs to happen.

You gather the reigns in one hand, straighten your back, and take a deep breath.

“Hyah!”

Caballo is off like a shot, surging forward with an enthusiasm that sends your body rocketing backwards. Your feet fly up, suddenly free of the stirrups, and its all you can do to hold like mad to the reigns with your right hand - why the fuck did you decide one hand was better, anyway?? - while your left flaps free in the wind.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa,” you tell Caballo. You’re not begging, you’re not.

You’re vaguely aware of shouts behind you.

You manage to pitch forward just enough to avoid falling off the ass-end of the horse, but it’s a near thing. Caballo is in a full-out gallop, lungs chugging beneath you, mane flapping in the wind and stinging your eyeballs. You lean in and hold on for dear life, and goddamn, none of those westerns ever mention just how rough it is on horseback. You are going to be so fucking sore tomorrow, ass, tits, and bits, but you can’t find it in yourself to care, because you are riding this horse, dammit.

You realize your mistake a moment later. Pride goeth before the fall, and your feet had shaken free of the stirrups on Caballo’s initial leap forward. Now, your legs are free-floating, flap, flap, flapping in the wind, and each bounce is sending you just a hair further over to the side.

Oh shit shit shit.

You flail, arching your toes in a desperate attempt to find purchase somewhere, but it’s a done deal. Grip with your knees, some primal instinct screams, or maybe that’s just Javi - you think he might be chasing you in the background.

By this point, you’re flat sideways on Caballo’s body, curled up more on his ribs than his back. Flop flop flop. He hasn’t slowed one bit, and you realize with sudden, horrifying clarity that gravity is a fucking bitch, and it’s a matter of where, not if or when, you fall.

You decide to do things on your own terms and let go, dumb as it may be. You pitch forward and roll, tucking your shoulder into the ground like your gymnastics teacher had taught you when you were six. There’s a horrifying moment of chaos and pain - the world is spinning, nothing is under your control, and the breath is knocked completely from you, but it’s over in an instant, and you’re left staring at the shockingly blue sky, blinking into the sunlight and listening to the receding hoof-falls of that goddamned horse.

“Ears! Ears! Ears!” Javi is making a lot of fucking noise somewhere over your shoulder.

The ridiculousness of the situation hits you all at once, along with a truckload of relief. You relive it all in an instant, picturing how utterly fucking stupid you must have looked, clinging to a runaway horse with your hair wild in the wind and your short little legs bouncing like chicken wings, and before you can find your way to your feet again, you’re laughing so hard that you can’t fucking breathe, which is almost a problem, because there wasn’t much air left in you to begin with -

Javi’s kneeling over you now, blocking the sun with his body, panting hard. “Oh, fuck. Fuck, Ears, are you okay?”

You can’t stop laughing long enough to answer him. You curl up in a ball on your side, trying push yourself up on your elbows, but you can’t.

“Oh… Oh my… Oh my god,” you stutter, breathless.

Beside you, the tension bleeds from Javi’s body in one long, broken sigh. You realize that he’s laughing, too. He leans his forehead into your shoulder, slumping into you bonelessly.

“I… I couldn’t… the fucking foot loops -” in your discombobulated state, the word ‘stirrup’ is lost to you. “My feet, Javi!”

He shakes his head into your neck, hot little breaths puffing on your bare skin. “I know,” he giggles, pressing a quick kiss to your jaw. “I saw.”

You try to stagger upright and don’t quite manage it. You’re feeling dizzy, almost a little drunk, but before you can stumble again, Javi is right there, hauling you to your feet and catching your lips in a deep, gentle kiss.

“You.” Javi breathes into you, his mustache tickling at your lip, and you lean heavily against him, allowing him to do most of the work of holding you up. “Ridiculous girl,” more kisses, “What do you have against me, huh?” a soft nip at the corner of your mouth, “It’s like you just try to scare the life out of me, Ears.”

“Dunno.” Your voice trembles, and you’re unsure whether that’s leftover adrenaline or the way Javi’s gigantic hands are stroking possessively at your ribcage. The flannel he’s wearing is worn soft with age, and you nuzzle into it, sighing. “It’s a hobby, I guess.”

“I can think of better hobbies,” Javi growls at the skin of your neck.

“Not right here,” you laugh, suddenly aware of Pop approaching. Javi whines like a puppy as you push him away gently, his hair mussed and his lips swollen, and your heart swells in your chest.

Christ, sometimes you still cannot believe how fucking lucky you are.

“Besides.” You can’t resist stealing one last kiss from his chin. “You know you love it.”

Javi’s breath catches. His eyes darken. One thumb strokes softly at your cheek, tucking back a stray hair. “Querida,” he starts -

You’re startled by a slow clap behind you, and both you and Javi jump back as if burned. Pop has finally made it to the scene. “Buena, Orejas!” he teases, his dark eyes dancing. “Well done!”

Asshole, you think fondly. Sarcasm runs strong in the Peña clan, it seems. You shake your head at him, a grin pulling at your cheeks.

Pop reaches to grip Caballo by the reigns. The motherfucker had finished his flight around the the ranch and wandered back toward you, sedately, almost nonchalantly, as if to say, ‘who, me?’

“Ready to go again?” Pop asks, holding out the reigns in your direction.

Javi groans. “No, Dad.”

You’re not sure if Pop’s serious, but you are. “Absolutely!” Fresh air and adrenaline have made you giddy, and you decide on the spot that, apart from almost dying, riding a horse is the most fun you’ve ever had in your life.

Caballo takes a little half step back, side-eyeing you with as much expression as a horse can muster, as if he’s sensed your intent and wholeheartedly does not approve.

You glance back at Javi. He’s sighing hard, head in his hands, rubbing his palms to his eyeballs with a ferocity that must have him seeing spots.

You decide to have mercy. “How about tomorrow?” you suggest, bumping shoulders with Javi in a gentle reminder that you’re here, you’re okay. “I know there’s still some beer in the fridge.”

Pop nods sagely, still grinning as he pats Caballo on the haunches. “I think so.” He offers you a quick wink, and you decide for the third time this morning that you really, really like your almost father-in-law.

“Thank fuck,” Javi mutters to himself.

You elbow him hard enough to draw a grunt, then offer him a quick peck on the lips in compensation. “Come on, babe. It wasn’t that bad.”

He huffs in response.

#Javier Peña x reader #Javier Peña x you #narcos #javier peña #pedro pascal fandom #javi x reader #javi x you #narcos netflix #Javier Peña imagine #pedro pascal #narcos fanfiction #reader insert #I don't know where this came from but here you go merry Christmas #ears is pure chaotic energy and really it's javi who slows her down not the other way around #ears is basically a blatant self insert character and i'm not even sorry #drops this and runs to wrap last minute presents #javi is so much like a fucking horse i swear #huffing and snorting all the time

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underoosweb · 4 years ago

Text

Salvation ch.13

Peter Parker x Fem!reader

5.8k words

Happy smiled at the teens in front of him,

“Alright, now we just got to find out where your friends are.”

Y/N rolled her eyes

“I know how, give me your phone.” Happy handed his phone over

“What’s your password?” Y/N asked

“Password.”

“Exactly, what’s your pass-“

“No..I’m.. my password is password.” Y/N stared blankly at her uncle

“Happy, you’re the head of security and your password is password?” Peter said with an amusing tone in his voice

“Yeah, I don't feel good about it either.” Happy said hastily, Y/N snickered

“If dad was here, he would roll his eyes and sigh in disappointment.” Happy laughed

Y/N pulled up Flash’s Instagram

“Oh thank god, Flash never disappoints”

Ello, governor! Cup of tea for you? I'mma be in London soon. Flash’s voice came through the phone.

“They're in London.” Peter confirmed

“London? Okay.” Happy clapped his hands together, making his way to the front of the jet. Peter stood looking around

“You alright?” Y/N asked

“Yeah. I need a suit.” Peter looked over at Happy

Happy turns, with a bit of a grin on his face.

“Suit?” Happy turns again and walks forward, pressing buttons on the ceiling. One of Tony’s secret compartments opens behind Peter. The two turn and make eye contact, Peter smiling, then he turns back toward the compartment and moves toward it. Another small compartment opens as Peter stares at it. A small metal pad descends from a part of the ceiling, and Peter puts his hand on it. Blue lights appear, and he steps back. Y/N stares at Peter.

“Okay, um... bring up everything you have on Spider-Man.”

Y/N smiles. He reminds her of him

“What should I do?” She asks, turning to look at Happy.

“You’re gonna be with me this time.” Happy told Y/N

“But..”

“We gotta help your friends get to safety.”

Peter scrolls through the holograms that pop up as Happy and Y/N watch.

“Yeah, open that. Okay. No, no, no…”

Peter turns around with a holographic web shooter and notices Happy and Y/N watching him

“What?” Peter asked, smiling

Y/N shakes her head

“Nothing. You take care of the suit, I'll take care of the music.” Happy smiled and made his way back to the front of the jet

Happy presses a few more buttons and her dad’s favorite song ‘Back in Black’ plays through the speakers.

“Oh, I love Led Zeppelin!” Peter said confidentiality, while flipping his wrench in the air

Y/N’s eyes widened and she muffled her laugh

“Umm.. Peter?” Peter turned to her with doe eyes

“Yeah?” She smiled and shook her head

“Never mind.”

The plane takes off from the field and Peter expands a hologram of the Spider-Man suit

“Okay, can you pull up my web-shooters?”

A hologram of the web-shooter appears, and Peter pulls out a small part.

“Isolate the taser webs and reconfigure and boost the voltage to a factor of... 25 percent, and give me complete manual control over detonation.”

Y/N sat next to Happy,

“You know..” Happy looked over at the young teen

“Yeah?”

“You don’t have to blame yourself.”

“What?” Y/N asked

“For your dad, you don’t have to blame yourself. Tony made his choice. There was nothing you could do.”

“I could’ve done it. I should have..”

“He wouldn’t have let you, when you disappeared, he was devastated, wouldn’t eat, sleep, he was just a living corpse, he worked day in and day out to figure out how to get you back. I don’t think he could go through with losing you again.” Y/Ns eyes filled with tears

“He really did try to love and raise the best he could.”

“I know.” Y/N met Happy’s eyes

“I feel like Peter feels the same way, he blames himself too.”

“I know.”

“Uncle Happy..”

“Yeah?”

“It’ll get better right?”

“Eventually.” Happy gave a small reassuring smile. Y/N nodded and changed the subject

“You know..”

“What?” Happy asked

“Eventually, you’re going to have to talk to Peter about you and May right?” Happy choked

“Can’t keep hiding Uncle Happy.” Y/N laughed

“I’m glad you found someone though.” Y/N looked down at her hands twiddling with her thumbs. Happy's hand covered hers

“I’m glad you have someone as well, your dad would be happy and a bit dramatic to see you, his first baby, dating.” Y/N laughed

“Yeah, I could see it now. Hands off my daughter, OK new rules, no touching, no kissing, you know what just stay about 20 no 50 feet apart.” Y/N said mimicking her dad, Happy laughed.

“He also definitely wouldn’t allow sleepovers anymore, not only that he would probably send Morgan with us on every date as a spy. He’d bribe her with cheeseburgers and ice cream.”

“Yeah, he would.” Peter looked over at the two

“We should call Fury and give me a head ups” Peter said

“Right, a coded message.” Happy begins to call Fury.

“What?” Nick answers annoyed

“Uh... Happy here. Happy Hogan here.”

“I know. What do you want?”

“Over at Mr. Stark’s, going through his belongings. Apparently, there was a surfboard that you left behind.”

“What?”

“People over there said they didn’t think Nick Fury was a surfer, but I said: “Appearances can be deceiving.”

“It’s not mine. And don’t ever call this number again.” Fury hangs up

“Is he ever happy?”

“Nope.” Y/N shrugs and pulls up Flash’s live again.

“They look like they’re having fun. After this we definitely need an actual vacation.” Y/N mumbled as Happy made his way towards Peter

“Okay. Fury’s got the coded message. Your friends are at the Tower Bridge.”

“Okay.”

“Your boy called it the London Bridge, but I figured it out. We’re going to scoop them up, okay?”

“Yeah.” Peter nodded

“We’re close.” Happy said

“We’re close.” Peter and Y/N confirmed

“How’s the suit comin’?” Y/N asked

“Almost done.”

“Good.” Y/N turned her attention back to the phone

“Wait, wait, whoa, whoa. Before you go…” Peter whispered to Happy

Peter looked over at Y/N to make sure she wasn’t paying attention to them and pulled out her necklace

“If something happens to me, could you please give this to her?” Peter hands the necklace to Happy but Happy refuses it

“You’re gonna make it back. You’ll give it to her yourself. ‘Kay? You got this.”

“I got this.” Peter nodded, putting the necklace back in his suit, Y/N stood and made her way towards them.

“Now walk us through it.”

Peter takes a deep breath “Ok, we know it’s illusion tech, right?”

“Mhm.” Y/N and Happy nod

“All I have to do is get on the inside of the illusion, then I can take it down, find him, and he’s just a guy, so I can take E.D.I.T.H. right back.”

“Right, but last time, we got hit by a train. And we sort of had a mental breakdown” Y/N said

“True, but this time… how do I explain this? Uh… I have like a sixth sense.”

Happy snapped his finger “The Peter-tingle. That’s what you’re talking about, right?”

Y/N choked back a laugh

“I thought it was called spidey sense, but Peter- tingle is cute”

Peter looked visibly annoyed by the mention of it . It’s clear that Aunt May told Happy about the Peter-tingle.

“May…” Peter whispered annoyed

“It’s not working, though. I heard it wasn’t working right now. Is it?” Happy asked

“It is working. Well, I don’t… I don’t know if it’s working…”

“Good, so you got the Peter-tingle. That’s the plan. I’m gonna go get your friends. You get that Peter-tingle back online.”

Happy runs back to the front of the ship

“You have to believe in yourself, if you want your Peter-tingle to work.” Peter groaned as Y/N smiled.

“I got this. I got this.” Peter mumbled, Y/N grabbed Peter’s face, her hands on his warm cheeks, she smiled reassuringly

“You got this, spider boy.” Y/N placed a kiss on his cheek. Peter nodded and blushed, Happy watched the whole thing happen, he wanted nothing more than to embarrass them and say he caught them in the act but he just shook his head and smiled. Peter headed towards the jet door

“Hey Peter,”

“Yeah?”

“Make sure you come back to me.” Peter smiled

“I promise.” Y/N nodded, walking back to the front of the jet.

“All right, comms check. Can you hear me, kid?”

Peter was on the outside plane

“Can you hear me? Y/N asked as well

“Yeah, I can. It’s just a little loud out here.”

“I like the new suit.”

“He look-“

“I don’t need to hear this.” Happy cut her off, Y/N rolled her eyes

“Thanks.” Peter chuckled

Y/N and Happy noticed the Elemental from a distance

“ Whoa, Peter, you sure that’s not real?”

Large storm clouds start to surround the Tower Bridge.

“Yeah, it’s just a hundred times bigger than I expected.”

“He really went all out using E.D.I.T.H. Didn’t he?

“Still the play?”

“Uh-huh. We need to get high enough so Beck doesn’t see me coming.”

“Copy. Stay sticky.”

The Jet rises right next to the Elemental.

“Hey, Happy.”

“Yeah, kid. What is it?”

“We need to have a serious conversation about you and my aunt!”

Before Peter could finish his sentence he lets go of the plane, falling toward the Elemental from above.Peter is flipping through air and falling from the sky. He opens his parachute and dives toward the Elemental

Happy looked outside the window and back at Y/N who was currently laughing her ass off.

“Told you.”

“I really gotta work on keeping things private.”

“Again as head of security, you would think you would be better at keeping things private.” Happy rolled his eyes. F.R.I.D.A.Y scanned the crowd for Y/N friends and classmates through the thousands of people running for their lives.

“Should I tell her?”

“Nope, trust me I’m pretty sure he’s already told her at some point in the trip.”

Flashes voice echoes through the jet, Y/N looks out the window to see half of the elemental slowly fade. Drones appear in its place.

“The monster was full of drones. It's crazy!” Flash yelled

“Found them.” F.R.I.D.A.Ys voice came through the com

“There you are.” Happy said, pulling up next to the river, the jet jolted, Y/N almost fell, clutching on the seats to catch herself

“Easy!” Her voice irritated

The Quinjet slowly lands to the ground. Happy looked back her

“Sorry, still a little rusty.” Y/N shook her head

“Let’s go.” Y/N and Happy run out of the jet, drones flying above them, Y/N looked over to the bridge, Beck stood there smirking, he waved at her and Y/N scoffed and flipped him off.

“Ned!” Happy and Y/N yelled with glee and in a slightly panicked voice

“Y/N! Happy!” Ned looked over at them with relief

“I got to get you guys out of here! Get on the jet!” Happy pointed back to the jet

“Who are you?” MJ asked

“MJ, now is not the time for questions and introductions. I’m with him, trust me he’s a friend” Y/N said

“I work with Spider-Man, okay? You got to get on that jet.” Happy introduced himself quickly

“You work for Spider-Man?” Flash asked excited

“Oh my god.” Y/N looked over at him frustrated.

“I work with Spider-Man, not for Spider-Man!” Happy yelled back annoyed at the comment

“NOW IS NOT THE TIME, WE GOTTA GO, BEFORE BECK KILLS US ALL.” Y/N yelled, everyone nodded, turning to run towards the Jet when the Jet exploded after getting hit from drone's missiles.

“Oh shit!” Y/N yelled

“Language!” Y/N looked over at Happy

“Yes, Uncle Steve.” Happy rolled his eyes

“FRIDAY? We need to find a new place to take them to.”

“New plan. Into the tower!” Happy turned around and headed towards the tower, Y/N looked over at them

“Wai-“ Y/N

“Miss? I suggest you follow them, it’s the safest place for your friends right now.”

Y/N sighed, running to catch up to them

Peter in the middle of all the chaos, sees the jet explode. The eyes on his suit widen

“Y/N! Y/N! Are you okay?” Panic and fear filled his voice when she’s didn’t respond right away

“I’m okay, we’re all okay ” he sighed in relief when he heard her come through the com

“Yeah. I’m okay too. We're okay.” Happy responded in a teasing manner.

“Happy, thank god you’re okay too.” Y/N laughed

“Just go get Beck.” Y/N said

“Yes ma’am” Peter smiled under his mask.

Y/N, Ned, Betty, MJ, Flash and Happy kept running towards the towers

“You have a tail.” FRIDAYs voice came through the com, Y/N looked back and saw two drones following closely behind them.

“Shit.” Y/N turned back and ran faster towards the towers

“Into the Crown Jewels vault.” Happy yelled, Y/N turned back, two Queen’s Guards firing at the incoming drones.

“Yeah, go, go, go!”

“Come on.” Y/N Yelled

The guards managed to destroy one, but the other slips by and follows the group into the vault.

“Go!” Ned yelled

“Into the vault. The walls are 8 feet thick. Go into the vault.” FRIDAYs voice came through the comm

“What now?” MJ asked

“Into the vault. Go!” Y/N yelled

The drone begins firing and breaks through glass walls. Everyone starts screaming, the glass shatters onto the ground. Everyone ducks and continues running toward the vault. The drone fires and shatters some of the glass cases.

“Take cover!” Happy yelled

Everyone scattered

Ned, Betty and Y/N take cover on one side of the room next to a window. MJ, Flash, and Happy take cover on the opposite side of the room. The drone enters the room and scans the area, slowly the drone moves forward. The drone continues to look around for the kids. Y/N looked over at MJ, MJ met her gaze and slowly looked over to a weapon with spikes on it. Y/N gives her the “are you insane” look.

“Okay.” MJ whispered to herself

Happy gestures to stay quiet. MJ reaches for the morning star.

“Yeah?” MJ whispered to Y/N

“No. No.” Happy mouthed

MJ ignores their protests and lifts the morning star from the armor. Underestimating the weight of it once she grabs it, her arms drop and the weapon almost hits the ground. Happy and Flash are both wince, anticipating the large noise that would’ve been produced had the weapon slammed into the ground. Flash covers his mouth and he gasps in shock.

The drone’s gating gun cycles around and advances. Flash has his phone out as he tries to capture the drone on camera. Happy gets him to stop.

“Get that thing out.” Happy whispered irritation in his voice

Betty and Ned push over armor with a halberd. The drone begins firing at the armor on the ground. MJ takes this opportunity while the drone is preoccupied and bashes it the morning star

“Go!” MJ yelled

Everyone ran towards the vault. Happy grabs a metal shield. Y/N looks at Happy.

“THIS IS NOT THE TIME TO TRY AND PRETEND TO BE UNCLE STEVE!”

“I’M TRYING TO HELP.”

The drone is disoriented and begins firing upward in a circle. The group gets inside the vault. One door closes and Happy throws the shield while closing the other, but it misses.

“How does Cap do that?” Happy asked to himself. Everyone was panting, trying to catch their breathe.

“Why exactly don’t you have your suit?” MJ asked

“This was a simple search and rescue, I didn’t think about the fact Beck was going to blow up the jet and try to kill us, makes more sense since he knew that we knew what he was doing.” Everyone jumped once the drone starts firing at the vault doors, Beck frowns from this setback. He activates a laser beam and decides to begin cutting open the thick vault door.

“Beck is controlling the drones, if he doesn’t stop him in time we might die.”

“Way to be optimistic, MJ.” Panic filled Becky’s voice

“I’m just stating the facts.”

“MJ really now is not the time.”

“Can’t FRIDAY help?” Happy asked

“It’s not like she can hack into EDITH, Happy,”

“Wait, can you?”

“Y/N, Happy, say something, to let me know you’re alive!” Peter asked, stress in his voice

“I’m here. I’m here.”

“Oh Happy, thank God.”

“I bought us some time.”

The drone continues to use it’s laser to cut through the doors

“But not much.”

“I’m trying to get to Beck....but I can’t shake these drones!”

“Are we gonna die?” fear and panic filled Ned’s voice

“Nobody dies on my watch.” Happy said sternly, Y/N look at him

Beck sends new drones to send sonic waves toward the door in order to weaken the structure. Dust and debris fall from the ceiling. Everyone became even more worried

“I wasted my life playing video games, and we’re gonna die.” Ned said with a snarky tone

“I have a fake ID, and I’ve never even used it.” Betty confessed out of nowhere, everyone turned and looked at her

“I post stupid videos daily for people to like me.” Flash confessed

“Hey, if it wasn't for those stupid videos, Spider-Man would have never found you.” Happy said, looking at Flash

“Spider-Man…? Spider-Man follows me? I saved us, guys!”

“If you saved us, then why are we about to die?!”

“MJ!” Betty yelled

“Stop it!” Happy stared at the scared teens. Y/N stood there, processing everyone’s confessions, trying not to laugh

“I’m sorry, okay? It’s just, I’m obsessed with telling the truth even if it hurts other people’s feelings.” She said semi unapologetic.

“Well, this is going well.” Y/N sighed

“I’m in love with Spider-Man’s aunt.” Happy admitted embarrassingly. Y/N’s eyes widened, covering her mouth trying to cover her laugh

Everyone else looks at him puzzled.

“We’re sharing, right?” Everyone nodded, then looked over at Y/N

“How are you not terrified or confessing anything?”

“I’ve been through worse and have almost died multiple times, my dad is Iron Man and I grew up with the avengers. This is nothing, but if you want me confess something..” Y/N can feel everyone’s eyes on her

“I’m the one who let Loki out of the cage.”

“Wait.. What?” Happy asked

“I let Loki out of his cage, back in 2012.”

“You were 11? Why?”

2012

Loki recognized the sound of her feet walking towards him, her pace always seemed to quicken and yet become lighter at the same time when she went to see him. He smiled at her as soon as she appeared, she returned the same smile. They weren’t joking when they said her smile radiated sunshine. She quietly sat in front of the cage.

“Isn’t your father going to be angry with you when he finds out, little one?”

“He hasn’t caught onto me yet, you know he isn’t the only one who can hack into shield’s security system.” Loki tilted his head, eyebrow raised

“It’s not like it’s hard.” Y/N whispered to herself and smiled at Loki

“You didn’t bring the little creature with you today.”

“He’s getting a bath.” Loki nodded

“What are you going to show me today?”

“Am I just a storyteller to you?”

“I was thinking more like friends?” Y/N shrugged

“Friends?” Y/N nodded

“I don’t have any. Dad doesn’t let me out of the house because he doesn’t really want people to know I exist.”

“Why is that?”

“What? Why doesn’t he want anyone to know about me?” Y/N sighed

��I don’t know, maybe he doesn’t want anyone to know about him having a kid with someone no one knows about? Maybe I’m an embarrassment.”

Loki sighed and sat in front of the young girl

“Are you ready little one?” Y/N nodded, Loki hid a smile as he began to tell another tale. Loki could see her eyes become heavy.

“You should head to bed, little one” Y/N nodded

“I’ll see you tomorrow, your majesty.” Loki smirked

“Off you go.” Y/N stood and made her way back to her father. She fell asleep in the little cot he had in the corner for her. 4 hours later she jumped at the sound of banging and yelling. Y/N looked around confused and groggy

“Lower it, she’s asleep.”

“We have to hear his plan.” Y/N laid back down, her eyes adjusting to look at the screen everyone was watching. She noticed someone was missing.. Nat. She stared at the screen, Natasha had her back turned to Loki, she could see a smirk forming on her face. She saw Loki’s face fall and Natasha walking away. Loki turned around and shook his head. Y/N slowly rose from her cot and walked towards the group, everyone fell silent.

“Where is he?”

“Who?” Steve asked

“He’s drying.” Y/N looked at her father and nodded. Y/N walked towards the doors of the lab

“Where are you going?”

“Restroom.”

“I’ll go with you.” Maria said

“No, thank you.” Y/N smiled and walked out of the lab. It had been 4 days since she had seen Loki, she had been watching over him through the security cameras. Loki on the other hand had actually missed the child, she was the only one who made him feel himself again, not a tortured soul. Y/Ns eyes widened when she saw the little stitch being formed of his magic, she smiled and ran towards his cage. She didn’t realize that she forgot to change the camera’s screen. Loki smiled, once again recognizing her footsteps running towards him.

“Stitch.” Loki nodded, Y/N looked over at the control panel, she walked towards it, looking at the buttons, she sat there debating. He never asked her to open the door, he sighed when he heard the air pressure from the door opening release. Y/N walked towards Loki and curtsied

“Your majesty.”

“Little one.” Loki replied, Y/N looked down, he had given her an emerald and gold dress, a tiara with the same color scheme, emeralds and gold, placed on the top of her head. She smiled, then the sirens went off. She jumped, Loki reached his hand out, she placed hers in his.

“Let her go Loki!” Thor’s voice boomed through the ship's prison, Y/N turned to see everyone staring, her father’s eyes, she had never seen that look or expression. Puzzled, upset, anger and fear. Y/N cocked her head, confused.

“Loki’s nice.” She said, turning back to look at him

“Y/N Stark.” She flinched, turning back to look at her father

“Come here.” Y/N felt her hand slip out of Loki’s, turning back to him. He smiled at her,

“Off you go, little one.”

“But..”

“Y/N!” She flinched again, she turned and walked towards her father. She looked back once more, her eyes felt heavy, what? She wasn’t tired, he was making her sleep, the last thing she remembered was him smiling at her before passing out in her fathers arms.

“He was my friend…” Y/N looked down, everyone stared at her not saying a single word.

A portion of the vault door falls out. Ned, Betty, MJ, Y/N and Flash duck in an attempt to shield themselves from the drone. Happy picks up another shield and gets ready to protect them.

Peter breaks through the glass under the upper walkway of the towers and sticks the ceiling of the hallway, grabbing hold of Beck by Beck's motion-capture suit and punching a hole through his glass helmet. The group sighs in relief when the drones fall to the floor. Peter holds Beck by his suit

“Your lies are over, Beck.’

“This certainly isn't ideal, but... I have contingencies. E.D.I.T.H.?” Beck says unbothered

A drone shoots Peter to the other end of the corridor. Peter lets go of Beck and Beck lands on his feet

“Just give me the glasses.” Peter groans out as he stands

Beck pulls out the glasses from his suit

“You want these? Come and get them.”

The drones activated their cloaking mechanism and the projection system. The corridor turns dark and green mist flows over the floor

Peter took a deep breath “Come on, Peter-tingle.”

He closes his eyes and takes another deep breath. He jumps all across the corridor, destroying drone after drone and coming closer and closer to Beck. Beck stares at Peter, panicking he presses the buttons on his suit.

“Why aren't these drones firing?”

“You're in the strike zone. The chance of getting hit…” E.D.I.T.H replied

“No, FIRE... ALL THE DRONES... NOW!” Beck yells

The drones behind him fly forward and activate their weapons. Peter knocks his way through them. During the fight, one of the drones is spun around and Beck is hit in the chest by a rogue bullet. After all the drones are destroyed, Peter steps towards him, taking off his mask

“Beck! Beck... You lied to me. I trusted you.” His voice coarse

“I know. That's the most... disappointing part. You're a good person, Peter. Such a weakness…”

Beck takes the glasses and hands them to Peter.

“Stark was right. You do deserve that.”

Peter senses something and grabs something to his right. The gun shot rang loud in his ears. He turns his head as the Beck he'd been talking to vanishes. The real Beck drops his gun, lightly spasming

“You can't trick me anymore.” Peter said bitterly

Peter grabs the glasses off of Beck’s head as he falls to the ground

“E.D.I.T.H., turn off the drones.”

“Bio-metric scan complete. Welcome back, Peter. Shall I execute all cancellation protocols?”

“Do it. Execute them all.” Peter says, looking around

“Confirmed.”

“Give me the spear.” Happy grabs the spear from Betty

“That's a halberd.” Ned says

“Thank you.” Peter thanks E.D.I.T.H

His face hardens as he turns to Beck, dying on the ground

“How could you do all of this?”

“You'll see, Peter. People need to believe... And nowadays... they'll believe anything.” Beck smiles, he stops moving.

“Is he... Is this real?” Peter asked unsure

“All illusions are down, Peter.”

Peter takes off his glasses and stares at Beck's body.

The group cautiously opens the vault’s doors, holding their breath, looking around she could hear everyone start to breath again.

“Whoo! Yeah!” Flash cheered

Everyone hugged each other and Y/N ran towards the doors

“Hey, where’re you going?” MJ asked

“She’s going to check on him.” Happy said, looking over at MJ. MJ smiled and nodded.

Y/N heard the sound of heart pounding and her breathing labored in her ears, she didn’t even hear the sirens around her. Y/N comes to a stop and walks on the Bridge. She sees Peter and begins running to him. Peter is limping and grunting in pain, looking up he sees her and opens his arms. Y/N jumps into his arms, Peter almost falls over, he tries to hide his groans of pain, but one slips out of his mouth. Y/N jumps off

“Sorry.” Y/N looks down at her feet

“Hey.” Peter, placed his fingers under her chin.

“Are you okay?” Y/N asked

“I’m okay. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah. Is everybody else okay?”

“Yeah, everyone’s okay.”

“I’m glad..” Peter smiled

“Did you get him?”

“Yeah…” Peter nods

“Umm, so Happy gave me this, while we were in the vault..”

Y/N pulls out her necklace, a little leg missing from the turtle

“No. No. Oh, Y/N, I’m so sorry. I had this plan, this stupid plan.” Peter groaned

“Peter…”

“And I wrote it all down, I was gonna buy you this and give it to you in Paris at the top-”

Y/N pecks his lips, mid sentence. Peter smiled

“And you kissed me. What? What?”

“Peter, I have something to confess.” Peter looked curious

“I.. kinda already knew about your plan..”

“What? How?”

“May doesn’t really know how to keep secrets.” Y/N laughed, Peter groaned

“May..”

“Well more like Morgan can’t keep secrets.”

“What?”

“Seems that May told Morgan and Morgan told me. The only way to bribe her to keep quiet is ice cream.” Peter laughed.

“I’m sorry it’s broken.” Y/N shook her head

“It’s alright, I’ll love it either way.”

Peter leaned in, he nearly missed, his lips a tad too far left and his nose bumping against hers, they giggled. Her lips brushed his, their heart beat faster and faster. Y/N pulled away, staring at his face, his eyes closed, cheeks and ears red, chest heaving. She watched him slowly open his eyes. He smiled back at her.

“Let’s go, spidey.” Y/N held out her hand, Peter took her hand in his, intertwining their fingers. Y/N smiled when she met with Happy, Ned and MJ.

“You’re alright?”

“Yeah, I’m alright you guys.”

“We gotta get him out of here before people find out who he is.”

“I already called Fury and he’s sending us a jet.” Y/N nodded

“We should get you out of your suit..but the jet with your clothes is gone..”

“Oh, here Peter.” Ned shrugged off his plaid over shirt

“Thanks Ned.” Peter took the shirt from his grasp

“Pants Peter? I mean unless you plan on walking around in your underwear.”

“If he even wears any under there..” MJ whispered

“MJ!” Peter blushed, Y/N choked back a laugh

“I mean she’s not wrong, the suit is skin tight..” Peter blushed even harder when Y/N chimed in, Peter quickly put on Ned’s shirt and buttoned it up. Y/N’s hands found the top of her sweatpants and slowly started to shimmy her way out of them, everyone’s eyes widened, arms flying and words of protest came from everyone.

“Don’t worry, I have leggings underneath.” Y/N shook their hands off and gave Peter the sweatpants

“I don’t know if they’ll fit though..” Peter smiled and put the sweatpants on

“Thanks, Y/N” Happy looked behind the teens and pointed

“There’s our ride.” Y/N and Peter turned, the jet landing softly on the grassy area, they turned back to Ned and MJ

“We’ll see you later?” MJ and Ned pulled them in for a group hug, smiling they pulled away and went back to where the rest of the class was

“Happy, is it possible for us to land around the same time as them?”

“I’m pretty sure we can arrange it.” The group walked into the jet and breathed a sigh of relief, Peter rested his head on her shoulder and she rested hers on his head, their eyelids slowly became heavy and they soon greeted by darkness. Peter felt himself being shaken awake, he tried not to move when he noticed Y/N’s arms around his waist and head on his chest. He looked over to Happy.

“We’re almost home, I thought I should wake you guys up.” Happy reached over to wake her up but Peter stopped him

“I’ll wake her, thanks Happy.” Happy nodded and went back to reading his book. Peter looked down at her, taking in every inch of her face, the sun hitting her face making her skin glow, she scrunched her nose, nuzzling in deeper into his chest. Peter moved the small strand of hair that was hitting her face, her eyes fluttered open. He froze when her Y/E/C eyes met with his brown ones, she smiled small.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” She sat up halfway

“Happy said we’re about to land.”

“Mmmm..” She hummed, turning her body to see the city coming into view. She felt his fingers intertwine with hers, resting her head on his shoulder, sighing.

“We’re here.” Peter looked out the window

“Huh, he landed so gently, I didn’t feel it unlike someone.”

“Hey, but did you die?”

“I mean maybe who knows.”

Happy scoffed and smiled, her and Happy walked out while Peter stayed behind to change out of his suit comfortably. Happy placed his arm around her shoulder and pointed at the car pulling in, before she realized what was going on she felt the wind get knocked out of her; arms wrapped around her legs, light brown hair put into a ponytail, Morgan. She smiled, reaching down to carry her younger sister, Morgan’s eyes sparkled with happiness.

“DID YOU AND PETER KISS!?” She yelled just as Peter walked out the Jet

“Morgan.” She jumped a bit hearing Pepper’s stern voice, she smiled sheepishly. Y/N could hear Peter laughing in the background, she turned to face him

“It’s not funny.” She playfully glared, Peter returned the playful glare and ruffled Morgan’s hair, they smiled at each other.

“So..Did you?” Morgan asked with excitement in her voice, Peter hummed, turning his head slightly, his lips brushed against hers, she saw his eyes flicker to her lips and back to meet hers. Peter smirked. Wait? Smirked? Oh, he’s getting bold all of a sudden. Y/N felt the blood rush to her cheeks and her eyes widened when she felt his lips pressed onto hers.

“Oops.” Morgan said, her hand on the back of Peter’s head, they could hear Happy and Pepper trying to hold back their laughter.

“Well, if you didn’t you did now.” Morgan smiled and shimmied her way out of her sister's arms, running back to Pepper. The two teens smiled and shook their heads, fingers intertwined. Pepper gave them each a hug.

“Let’s go home.”

“Oh, my aunt May is actually here to pick me up..” Pepper smiled and nodded, Morgan ran up and grabbed Y/N’s other hand

“Let’s go home Y/N, Mommy said she’ll buy us food.” Y/N laughed, looking over at Peter

“I’ll see you later?” Y/N nodded

“See you later, Peter.” Morgan dragged her to the car, Peter stood there and watched as they got in and drove off, waving out the window, he waved back. Peter walked through the airport, he heard May’s slightly panicked voice

“They are coming out right now..oh there he is. Don’t give me a ticket.” Peter smiled and sighed when May pulled him into a tight hug

“So glad you’re okay.”

“No. For real, I'm good. I'm actually really... fine.”

“Let’s go. Where are your bags? Oh, right. they got blown up.”

“Yeah.”

Peter and May start walking toward their car. May handed a brown paper bag to Peter

“I got you some hot buttered bagels.”

“Thank you so much.”

“I know my boy.” May ruffled Peter’s hair and they drove off.

#peter parker #peter parkerxreader #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker x stark!reader

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sconnie-doesnt-know · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 2

Characters - Reader, Ransom Drysdale, assorted OCs

Word count - 3100

Warnings - Drinking, language, sexual content

A/N - Hope you enjoy the next installment of my Ransom series. Still setting things up in the chapter, but we’re moving along. For a while, there will be a good amount of heavy drinking and the questionable choices that go along with that, just FYI. Remember this is fiction and the acts are not recommended. They will also be acknowledged later if you are concerned.

Feedback is wonderful, & if you notice any errors please let me know!

Dividers made by @firefly-graphics

Chapter 1

You order drinks plus shots.

“To another fucking week,” you salute with Whitney. It burns, and it’s sweet, and you just want it to act fast.

“Yeah, another one.” She grabs hers, salutes, and tosses it back back. She cringes for a few seconds, but once she recovers, she picks right up with half of a conversation you weren’t having. “So, are you gonna take someone home tonight?”

“You’re more worried about my sex life than your own.” You shake your head at her.

“After what that asshole did to you, you deserve all the good fucking. I’m just trying to find a good dick to help you forget.”

“Wow, that’s sweet in a weird way.” You shake your head again, but smile this time.

“Well, it’s true. I also don’t want to feel bad if I ditch you later for my own fuck buddy.” She wiggles her eyebrows like a cartoon villain. At least she’s giving you a warning this time and not just disappearing on you later.

“Jesus, Whit. Yeah okay.” You can’t help but laugh with her. “It’s just,” you survey the group around you, “You never really know what you’re gonna find at the end of the night.”

“Uhhh, yeah. That’s what having a one-night stand is...Oh hi.” She offers a dazzling smile to a cute guy pushing next to her at the bar.

You wait a few seconds for her attention to return before you mutter, “I am well aware.”

“So pick a partner and do-si-do. Come on, cowgirl,” she nudges you, nodding to the guy in the fraying straw hat next to you. Nothing seems to deter her.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” you giggle.

She smiles and shrugs. A few minutes pass as she looks you over, studying you.

“You’re being weird about this.”

“I know.” You nibble on the straw in your glass for a moment before getting to where your mind’s been stuck for hours. “So hey, that guy we hung out with? Ransom?”

“No.” She shakes her head hard from side to side, a slightly manic giggle coming out between the repeated, “No, no. No.”

“What?” you try to sound casual, indifferent, but she knows you too well. “I just want to know what his deal is.”

“You don’t,” she insists, shaking her head.

“Why? Did you sleep with him?”

“No, I haven’t.” She pauses for a moment, you can see she’s actually thinking over her answer. “He’s just gonna get what he wants from you and push you away.”

“You do realize that’s exactly what you’ve been telling me to do? So I should screw someone, but not him...because that’s what he does?”

“Yeah.”

“Wait, are he and Michelle a thing? I don’t want any extra relationship drama.”

“Psshh, yeah, god knows you’ve had enough of that.” She stares off into the middle distance before shaking her head and focusing again. “No, they’re not together either, but please? Please? Just promise me you’re not interested in Ransom.”

“Okay, but why?”

“I don’t know, I guess I don’t really think you’re his type.” She lets the words hang, and you’re unsure how to interpret them until you finally settle on hurt. You physically recoil a bit when the sting of her words hits.

“Wow, ouch. What the hell does that mean?” You look down into your lap, looking yourself over really quickly and not finding anything major sticking out.

“I just don’t see it. Trust me, and tell me you’re not being serious with this.”

Even with her strange and kind of harsh reaction, you can’t get rid of the swooping feeling you get in your stomach just thinking about him. So, you try to purse your lips to control the uncomfortable smile trying to break through. You want to assure your friend, but can’t lie to her either...at least not well.

“I’m totally not,” you finally say with an awkward laugh behind it. Again, failing miserably to play off nonchalance.

She sees it all and knows you’re full of shit. “No one will have any respect for you if you fuck around with him.” She says, matter-of-factly.

Where this is all coming from, you have no idea.

“You’re being mean and cryptic and I don’t like it. I’m not even saying that anything’s going to happen, but that sounds a little extreme, Whit. Come on,” you whine.

She rolls her eyes. “It’s not. Just find someone and ask him to buy you a drink. Look around, you can pick anyone, but I am not enabling you and Ransom,” she quickly adds.

You try to lighten the mood by teasing her about having standards, but can’t find much ground to stand on when she brings The Ex into the discussion. She’s really on a roll tonight and pulling no punches. It’s not what you wanted or needed from the night. You came out with a mission to have fun, so you take a deep breath and decide to be the bigger person.

“Hey Whit?”

She keeps her eyes on the bar in front of her, letting you know she’s still somewhat annoyed at you. “Yesss?”

“This week sucked. Let’s get trashed.” You sling your arms around her shoulders and shake her until she laughs with you. Her party-friend is back in action.

“Fuck. Yes.”

You struggle to go along with Whitney’s plan for your night, especially when the Cowboy and just about every other guy she pushes your way fail to keep your interest. Not that you’d never had a one-night stand, but just that lately they’d been pretty awful experiences and you wondered far too often lately what a life of celibacy would look like. It’s much easier to dismiss the guys and remember that at least your vibrator can get the job done.

Before last call you give in and you text Jeff. Yes, the Jeff with whiskey dick who left you high and dry last time as Whitney reminds you with a giggle. He sounds genuinely happy to hear from you again and promises to make up for last time which makes it seem worth it to give him another shot. He’s tall, fit, with long fingers and if you remember correctly, a decent enough dick.

He manages to stay hard this time around, and he takes his time feeling you up, but the two of you can’t find a rhythm that works. You finally bat his hand away and rub yourself off while he pumps sloppily into you. Afterward, he leans in for a kiss and you turn away to give him your cheek. Getting dressed, you give him a few non-committal answers when he asks about seeing you again, and at the end of it all, you’re most grateful that you didn’t take him to your place.

You spread out alone in your own bed and think over Whitney’s words.

Whitney knows more than a few of your dirty secrets; the friendship between you two had blossomed quickly with your guard easily let down. She never really judged you, at least not openly, which left you swirling in doubt for days, obsessing over what would probably end up being nothing.

What made you not his type - looks? Money? Another woman? She never really had a filter, but she was being so short on the topic of Ransom which made you think even harder, rooting through some more recent bad memories.

“Am I a bad person?” you ask Carrie during the week.

“What? No!”

You accept her answer with a nod, silently thinking.

“I wonder if I should just take a break.” When Carrie looks at you funny, you clarify, “Like, maybe I am finding these losers because I am not all that great myself? These guys are all just…”

“Babe, you’re meeting them at bars...with Whitney.”

You heave in a deep sigh, “I know. And she’s not that bad.” A humorless laugh escapes. “Maybe I am aiming too high or something?”

“There’s no such thing.” You see her shoulders shift, fire in her eyes and protective mode activated like she’s done a few times in staff meetings. “What happened?” she asks.

“Nothing. Just thinking.”

Whitney laughs when you tell her you’re thinking of taking a break.

“Was Jeff that bad? I thought you said he was good with his fingers.”

You look around, even if Whitney has forgotten she’s in public, you haven’t. No one else reacts though, thankfully.

“You’re such a bitch,” you sigh. She fakes offense which you ignore. “No, he wasn’t that bad, I just want to find a nice guy. I don’t know.”

Her already buzzed gaze moves somewhere over your shoulder, “Oh whoa, stop that thought. There’s a guy behind you that looks like he wants to bend you over right here. So,” she drags out, “How about we see how that goes and forget about Jeff, and nice for a while.”

She adjusts her own posture, subtly popping up her tits and tilting her chin down to offer him and enticing smile.

‘Jeff isn’t the problem,’ you think to yourself, but she’s already moving forward with her plan for your night. You toss back the shot she places in front of you and turn to check him out.

It’s not happening, even as tipsy as you currently are, this guy with the ironic mullet hovering next to you and trying to get handsy is not getting into your pants. You know it, Whitney knows it (even if she continues to flirt with his friend), hell - the people in the space station know it… but Mullet Guy is oblivious. It’s embarrassing.

You sit there with your hands over half of your face, wishing he’d leave you alone, when you feel a tap on your shoulder. Turning, you see a familiar pretty face surrounded by blonde hair.

“Do you need some help?” Michelle asks, eyeing the guy next to you.

You’re surprised she even recognized you, let alone approached you, but you’re desperate to take the help where you can get it. “Oh my god, yes.”

She gives you a knowing grin, “You’ll find some of us in the corner booth in the back.”

“You sure?” you ask, still thrown off by the interaction and nearly stumbling off the bar stool. “What about Whitney?”

“I’ll get her,” She gives you a little nudge.

You slip past the guy hopelessly hitting on you, mumbling and hoping he doesn’t follow and head down the aisle alongside the bar until you reach the large, corner booth. A few faces look familiar, but when he looks up you consider turning back. Judging by his smirk, there’s no chance of that happening.

You raise your voice to be heard over the noise of the bar, “Um, Michelle sent me over,” your nerves turning it into a question rather than a statement.

Ransom raises an eyebrow like he’s about to ask a question, but nudges the people next to him to make them get up and make room for you.

“Oh, no that’s...I’ll just sit on the end.” You try to politely wave them off, but they’re already up.

“Come on in, sweetheart,” he invites you, arm thrown over the back of the seat and your heart beats double-time with just how much you want it wrapped around you. The two people who vacated their spots shift impatiently and you clumsily sit down and start to scoot over under your knee bumps into his, making you immediately stop and apologize.

“You here all alone?” he asks, swirling his drink, the ring on his pinky finger flashing in the light.

“Nah,” Michelle reappears and speaks up for you as she sets down a few glasses onto the table, “Whitney’s here, but she’s got some company. This lucky lady,” she points to you and continues with a light laugh in her voice, “Was just looking miserable with some idiot not taking a hint.”

“You should’ve just told him to fuck off.” Ransom says.

You look over the crowd, finding Mullet Guy waiting for you back at your seat. His eyes droopy from the liquor and Whitney swaying with his companion.

“I know, I just don’t like doing that. Plus, uh, I think Whitney is trying to fuck his friend.”

“So leave her. She’s a big girl and can handle herself.”

After that he continues the conversation he was having with the others before you arrived, and once again, you sit there silently watching.

If you can call anyone the leader in the group, it is Ransom. Watching the way the other guys at the table defer to him and how he responds to what they say makes it obvious. He knows it too, practically sitting here holding court at the big square booth.

The conversation isn’t all that interesting, at least not to you. Some kind of pissing contest the guys are having involving some sports stats. Every now and again you hear them say something so blatantly wrong, but you don’t know them well enough to correct them. With the underhanded comments and passive aggressive insults, you can’t help but wonder if any of them are actually friends. Eventually, your attention wanders over the rest of the bar patrons.

“Am I keeping you from something?” Ransom startles you with how close he is, body still but eyes roaming. You suck in a deep breath, smelling the alcohol and his cologne which makes your mouth water.

“N-no, sorry,” you struggle to come up with an excuse for zoning out, “Just looking for Whitney.”

He tips his head, “She’s right where you left her.” You follow his line of sight, finding her easily.

“Oh. Yeah.”

The way his face goes impassive unsettles you, like it was the wrong answer. “We’re boring you. That’s alright. Let’s talk about you.”

“Not much that you’d be interested in, I think.” Whitney’s assertion that you’re not his type replays in your head

“I don’t know about that. I have a lot of interests.” He stares at you with this look on his face, like he’s listening to something funny, but his eyes are serious. It’s intimidating when combined with the way he’s lounged so comfortably next to you, taking up the space like he owns it and yours. His tone, and the little tickle from his fingers against your shoulder feels like flirting, and now your inner voice begs you to remember how to fucking flirt. ‘For the love of god, shake off the nerves and flirt with this gorgeous creature.’ You take a deep breath and try to sink into it.

“What do you want to know?” You ask, setting your elbow on the table and propping your face on your palm while you turn even further toward him.

One side of his face lifts almost into a smile. He starts with a few basic questions, finding out you’re not from the city, how long you’ve been around. He ignores what you ask in return, continuing with his rapid-fire questioning.

“How do you know that little brat?” he asks with a tiny flick in the direction of the bar.

“Whitney?” you chuckle and he nods, “Friend of a friend; she practically became attached at my hip once we started going out together.”

“A quiet little mouse like you and her? Really?”

“I promise you, I’m not always so quiet,” you challenge.

“See, now that is interesting. Think I’d like to see that,” he answers, eyes giving you a quick up-down in your seat.

In the seconds it takes for you to process that he is indeed flirting and you need to respond, the moment is broken by a high-pitched voice.

“There you are! You fucking ditched me.” Whitney practically howls at you. You feel like a child who got caught out after curfew as you see her eyes move between you and Ransom. “What’s happening here?”

The alcohol has settled enough to remove some of your tension. With that and her overdramatic reaction, trying to control the urge to giggle at being caught is impossible, so you bite down on your lips to keep the grin from your face. “Nothing,” you answer, poorly faking innocence.

Ransom’s eyes stay on you, you can feel it, but he talks to your friend, “We were just getting to know each other better.” He turns to look at her, “Sit down with us,” his tone almost sounding like an order.

“Getting to know each other?” she asks you pointedly.

You can’t understand what her problem is with him, especially since he’s her friend. At this point, you’re too intrigued. It’s not like there’s any point in trying to deny that you’re attracted to him with half your body leaning into him like he’s a magnet, but for some reason you think you see real disappointment in her eyes. Biting your lip, you take a peek at him to find him waiting for your response; he’s already smug with the attention.

“Yeah.”

“What about your break?” she spits out.

You feel too many people looking at you, but you can’t answer, too shocked that she’s put you on the spot like this.

“Remember?” she asks like you’re forgetful, “You’re taking a break because you’re looking for a nice guy.” She over-enunciates as she stares daggers at Ransom.

“Why don’t you get the stick out of your ass, Whitney. I’ve been nice all night, haven’t I sweetheart?” The hostility between the two makes your back go rigid, anxious for the moment to end and the spotlight to be directed anywhere else.

“I’m fine,” you tell her as firmly as you can.

She shakes her head at you, but sits down anyway, jumping right into flirty conversation with Eric who is sitting at the end of the booth, notably there without the girl from the other weekend.

“Hmm,” Ransom hums right against your ear, making your skin tingle. “I think someone just got in trouble.” He’s clearly amused and not sounding remorseful at all.

He makes a move then. It’s slight, but you feel him tuck you a little further under his arm. Part of you is glad Whitney is distracted, but the other part wants her to notice it and realize she might be wrong.

“I…yeah,” you stumble over your words, confused and flustered between the two of them. Chest tight and pulling in short breaths and stomach swooping with excitement, you internally scream, begging for him to make it worth it.

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale series #ransom drysdale fanfiction #knives out fanfiction #c'mon let's pretend series #my writing #chris evans characters #ransom thrombey #ransom drysdale fluff

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takerfoxx · 4 years ago

Text

Part three of the WN crew watches the Rebellion Story, this time stretching from the Mami in a towel scene to the sun rising after the battle with Hitomi's Nightmare.

Yes, this is the one with the Cake Song.

Reminder:

G=Gretchen

H=Homulilly

Op=Ophelia

Ok=Oktavia

Ca=Candeloro/Mami

Ch=Charlotte

...

Ca: Um.

Ch: UM!

G: Wow.

Ok: Oh, ho, ho! Hey, Candy! We interrupting something private here?

Ca: Oh, for Heaven’s sake.

Op, whistling: So…whaddya wanna talk about first?

Ch: Me! We’re talking about me! We’re getting this straightened out right now!

H: Are we even sure that’s you?

Ch: YES!

Ca: It’s her. That was her witch form.

Ch: SEE?! I KNEW IT!

G: I thought I got rid of all the witches.

Ok: Guess you missed one. And…Candeloro adopted it?

Ch: I AM NOT AN IT!

Ok: Sorry! Sheesh.

Op: Charly, chill. She didn’t mean it like that.

Ch: Ugh, I know, I know! Sorry. It’s just…What the hell?

Ca: I don’t know. I really don’t know.

Ch: So. Lemme get this straight. If for whatever reason we did not witch out and die when we did, Gretchen would’ve gone on to erase all witches from history…

G: I still don’t get it.

Ch: Except for ME, apparently! But we’re still magical girls fighting demented flying teddy bears that spawn when teenagers start angsting. And I’m just…hanging out. As a witch. Which is Candeloro’s pet for some reason? DO I HAVE THAT RIGHT?!

Op: Looks like.

Ok: You also still seem to have that thing for cheese.

Ch: Oh, great. AT LEAST THAT’S STILL AROUND! EVERYTHING MUST BE PERFECTLY NORMAL THAN!

H: Also, Kyubey is there, but seems to have lost his voice.

Ca: It’s an improvement.

Ch: Seriously, what the HELL is going on?!

Op: Do you need to take a break?

Ch: I…No, I’ll be…I’ll be fine. This is just weirding me out.

=long pause=

Ok: So, hey, Candy. About that towel…

Ca: Oh, I knew you were going to bring that up.

Op: Looks like you’ve been relegated to being Ms. Fanservice.

Ch: Just…Just hit Play. Maybe it’ll give us an explanation.

Ok: Okay…

=hits play=

G: Is this a bad time to point out that hairstyle actually looks really good?

Ca: It did get me a lot of attention. Of course, having magic made it much easier to maintain.

Op: I guess that’s why we look so fresh all of the time.

Ch: Great. On top of everything else I am also apparently an idiot that eats inanimate objects.

H: Wait. Nightmare? Is that what the teddy bears are called?

Op: Sure look…Whoa, wait.

Ok: Uh, Candy? CANDY?

Ca: Oh, I am not really going to-

=pause, then Ophelia starts laughing=

Op: Oh, man! Talk about a fake-out!

Ok: They knew what they were doing.

Ca: Oh, thank God. Or not. Why is this movie so focused on my breasts?

Op: I’ll give you two guesses.

Ca: =heavy sigh=

…

Ok: And there’s us, leaping around without a care in the world.

Op: Against a quilted sky.

Ok: Hitomi’s teenaged angst really threw everything for a loop.

G: Why the quilt, though? What does that symbolize?

Ok: I don’t know. What did the yarn symbolize? Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar!

Ch: And sometime animators take advantage of that big studio money to pump out whatever drug-induced fantasy that they ever had.

Op: Oh, hey! This version of you actually got over that guy!

Ok: “Captain Oblivious.” Heh, yup. You go, me.

G: And to think, so much trouble could have been avoided if he had just seen the cutie right in front of him.

=Oktavia loops an arm around Ophelia’s shoulders and snuggles up to her=

Ok: I like to think that it turned out all right in the end. Even this version of me agrees!

Ch: Except for him. Kinda serves him right.

G: I don’t know. I feel kind of bad talking bad about him like this. I mean, being a little oblivious isn’t really a bad thing, and he did lose a lot of important people to him in a very short period of time.

Ch: Well, when you put it like that…

Op: Yo, hey, not to change the subject or anything, but are those ballerinas that she’s got projected on the side of the building kickboxing? Because that’s honestly kind of hot.

H: Of course you would find violent dancing hot.

Op: I am what I am, and make no apologies.

G: At least these ones aren’t made of cum.

Ca: Oh, my God.

…

Ch: Oh, why am I here? What could I possibly contribute?

H: A moment ago you were complaining about not being in it!

Ch: This is worse. This is far worse.

G: Oh! Oh! We get to see the transformation scene!

Ca: Those weren’t really that elaborate. I mean, they were cool, but-Hold on.

Op: Aw, hell yeah! Strike a pose, team!

Ca: Okay, never mind. I guess in this world we made them elaborate.

Ch: Like I said: animators with way too much money and waaaaaaaay too many drugs. Prepare yourselves for a trip.

…

Ca: Oh! Oh, my.

Ch: So, uh…

Ca: No, I never danced to transform. That is…also new.

=Ophelia suddenly leans forward intently=

Op: Oh, yes, yes, yes! H-Hey, can we start this part over.

Ok: Sure.

=they restart the transformation scene=

G: So, are you…

Op: Figure-skating, yeah! Damned good, at that. Look at that spin!

Ca: I never learned figure-skating. I mean, I can skate, but nothing like this, though I suppose I have the athletic ability, and-Okay, I just exploded out of myself.

G: That outfit is pretty cool. Um, Candy? You wouldn’t mind if I asked…

Ca: Oh, fine. I suppose it’s thematically appropriate.

=Candeloro transforms into her Puella Magi uniform, complete with the hair. Gretchen cheers=

Ok: That was way quicker than the movie. And…damn.

Ca: You can stop staring at my breasts now.

Ok: I mean, sure, I can…

=Candeloro sighs and changes back. Oktavia and Gretchen both boo=

Ch: Sorry, girls. But the corset’s reserved for me.

Ok: What does that-Oh. Really?

Ch: We went going through a rough patch. We had some things we needed to come to terms with. Making pleasant associations helped.

G: I don’t get it.

=Homulilly whispers into her ear=

G: Oh. Oh.

Ca: Heh.

=Ophelia is still hunched forward and getting impatient=

Op: Yeah, this is all fascinating, but can we get back to the movie?

Ok: We’re literally talking about boobs. I thought you’d be all over that.

Op: There is dancing and you’re keeping me from it!

Ok: Okay, okay. Let’s go.

Op: Oh, hell yeah! I’m next!

G: What kind of dance is that, Ophelia?

Op: Definitely seeing some tribal elements in the first part. I think the part with the arms is…Chinese? Wish I had read up on it a bit more.

G: I’ve never seen you dance like that before.

Op: I mostly do hip-hop, but I do something similar to that when I pole-dance. It’s a lot more complex, though.

H: I bet it is.

Op: Have fun with that mental image! Still, this is giving me ideas, especially that arm thing. I think I pull that off with my illusions. Maybe it’s time to diversify-WHOA!

Ch: Why did you go all sketchy and scary?

Ca: Why did I explode out of myself twice?

Ok: Oh, okay! Here we go!

=Gretchen starts laughing=

G: Oh, my God! You’re doing Ophelia’s usual dance!

Ok: Doing it pretty well, too! Damn!

Op: I’ll say! Nice windmills, smooth transitions from palms to forearms.

Ch: You’re getting ideas, aren’t you?

Op: Duh.

Ok: And now I’m running. You know, I can’t help but feel that this me is sort of flexing on me specifically with the whole leg thing.

H: Has anyone else noticed that so far we have all ripped out of ourselves in order to transform?

Ok: That outfit is hot, though. And-Okay, that ass shot was on purpose!

Ca: Be thankful it’s not as obsessed with your butt as it is with my boobs.

Ok: No way! I wanna see it more! C’mon, zoom in on those cheeks!

Op: I strongly agree.

H: Oh, here’s me. This should be good.

G: It’s actually pretty lovely. And you do look like you’re having fun with it.

H: You know, this isn’t bad. But what am I supposed to be doing?

Op: It’s…kind of interpretive freeform, but I’m seeing some ballet elements in there as well.

H: Huh.

Op: You think of giving it a shot? Because I have someone I could call.

H: Thank you, but no. Maybe.

Op: Well, think about it.

H: I’m also tearing out of myself, I see. Oh, and that stupid clock again!

G: This is great. Can we see that part again?

Ok: You know you’re next, right?

G: Oh. Oh, no.

Ok: Okay, so…

Op: This…I’m not sure what you’d call this.

Ok: Other than adorable.

Op: It is that.

=Gretchen is blushing and hiding her face=

Ch: Okay, this is pretty cute.

G: Stop, please.

Ca: You sure you don’t recognize this, Ophelia?

Op: I mean, other than the Can-Can bit, not really. It’s more cute poses than anything.

Ch: So teenaged pop-idol.

G: Oh, God!

Op: Yeah, that seems to fit.

G: Why do all of you get the cool dances while I get…this?

H: I think it’s fine.

G: I’m not watching. Is it over, yet?

H: Well, you more of shattered glass instead of tearing out of yourself, but it’s still going.

Op: Okay, okay. It’s over, now.

G: Finally-You said it was over!

Op: It is! You’re just doing your final pose.

G: They literally covered me with hearts and rainbows!

Ok: What’s wrong with hearts and rainbow?

G: Look, I know I’m supposed to be the “cute” one, but there is a point when it becomes too much!

H: It’s your fault for being so adorable.

G: I’m not the only cute girl here. Sheesh!

H: No, you are definitely the cutest!

=Homulily starts tickling Gretchen=

G: Homulilly! Stop it!

H: I can’t help it! You’re just so cute! CUTE!

=Gretchen laughs and squirms in trying to get away, but not too much=

G: Stop it! Someone! Please! Help!

=Charlotte, who’s sitting on the other side of Gretchen, glances at Homulilly. They lock eyes=

Ch: Nope! Sorry! She’s right!

=Charlotte starts tickling Gretchen as well, who now is gasping for air=

Ok: Honestly, this is way more entertaining than the movie.

Op: Speaking for yourself. There was dancing!

Ca: You know, if you guys keep this up, then we’ll never get through the film.

G: Okay, that is it!

=Gretchen suddenly ties up Homulilly and Charlotte up with her legs and lifts them fully off the couch into the air. She sits there with her arms crossed and the two of them suspended=

G: No more tickling, or I start tickling everybody! And I have way more limbs to do it with than all of you combined!

Ok: Is that a threat or a promise?

Ch: I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Put me down!

G: Fine! Now, behave!

=Gretchen plops Homulilly and Charlotte back down into their seats and lets them go. Then she blinks and turns to Oktavia=

G: Wait, do you want to be tickled?

Ok: Well…

Op: Better not. This is an egg you do not want to crack.

G: You guys and your fetishes.

Ok: I am literally half fish, okay? We had to get creative!

Ca: Okay, I’m unpausing the movie, if it’ll get you to stop!

Op: You’re the one who literally busted out your and Charly’s bedroom get-up.

Ch: Not really. It usually has less-

Ca: UNPAUSING NOW!

…

Ok: Team pose!

Op: They always come this close to showing us what’s under those skirts.

Ch: They’re being cheeky, all right.

Ok: That pose is awesome, though. We should do that for real!

Ch: Puella Magi Holy Quintet? Not a bad name.

Op: Can’t really use it ourselves.

Ch: Why, because there’s six of us?

Op: That, and-

Ok: We’re all witches?

Op: Okay, that too, but also there is nothing holy about us.

Ch: Ah, innocent times, innocent times.

Ok: Come on, Sayaka and Kyoko are clearly doing it on the regular.

Ch: You inferred all that from your five minutes of screentime so far, did you?

Ok: I know what I’m about.

…

Ok: And out comes the violin! Subtle.

H: So…are there any people in any of those buildings that she’s wrecking?

Op: Probably.

Ok: So Hitomi is literally killing hundreds with her angsty temper tantrum.

G: Er…I’m sure she’s not!

Ca: Okay, now this part is actually pretty similar to how things used to be! Um, except for the ballroom dancing.

G: How so?

Ca: I mean us combining our abilities! Homulilly stopping time and the two of us using a combination of musketfire and arrows was actually a tried-and-true tactic of ours!

G: Cool!

Ok: So are you guys basically gonna blast Hitomi into next week?

Op: I mean, she did literally just massacre an entire city.

G: No, look! We’re fixing the city! See, we do repair the damage and make things normal again!

Ch: Obviously a very loose definition of the word “normal.”

Op: Doesn’t do a whole lot good for all the mangled corpses inside those buildings.

G: Nobody died! Sheesh.

Op: Well, not that we can see, anyway.

Ca: Pretty sure if people were actually dying it would have been brought up by now.

Ch: Okay, I’m calling it now! It’s a fake!

H: Huh?

G: What do you mean?

Ch: I mean the city! This whole…everything! It’s a fake! Like, a simulation or a dream or something. And we’re all trapped in it. The signs are all over the place.

…

Ok: That’s my girl! Kicking ass and giving good life advice!

Op: That guy is just obliviously leaving a trail of broken hearts behind him, isn’t he?

Ch: And corpses.

Ok: You know, between me turning into, well, me and Hitomi turning into that, the dude really needs to just stop dating girls and marry his violin or something. Because that’s two for two!

G: The Five Lillians? What does that mean?

Ch: This movie feels like it should come with its own appendices.

Op: Oh, did you see that smug grin? No one girl can have all that swagger!

Ok: You would suck on a juicebox in the middle of a fight.

G: Did…Did you just make a wall?

Op: Cool! That was one of my powers, right?

Ca: It sure was.

Ok: And apparently I could combine it with my swords!

Op: Oh, I bet you loved shoving your sword into my wall.

=Homulilly snorts=

Ch: I get the innuendo, but that would imply-

Ca: Please don’t finish that thought, sweetie. The porn they watch is bad enough.

…

Ch: So I guess this is the part where you all beat Hitomi to death.

Op: That would be one hell of a twist.

H: Honestly, the way this movie is going, I don’t think anything could surprise me at this point.

G: Okay, we’re all standing on swords around her, so…

Ch: Oh, great. Now I’m here-Wait.

…

G: Um…are we going to eat Hitomi or…What’s going on?

H: That does seem to be the question.

Ch: What the fuck?

…

=Charlotte suddenly leaps up and starts scrambling back on the couch up against the wall=

Ch: What the fuck! What the fuck!

Op: Did you just turn into a giant clown worm?

Ch: Candy, please. Some sense. Give it to me!

Ca: Uh, uh, well. Your…original witch self did turn into that…thing during the fight, but…

Op: You think you can maybe still do that?

Ch: No. No chance in hell.

H: I’m considerably more concerned about what we’re doing. Why are we…chanting?

Ca: I’m going to hit Play. Brace yourselves, girls. I think it’s going to get weird.

…

H: What are…

…

G: Um.

…

G: UM!

…

Ch: Guys. Guys. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.

Op: Shhh.

…

=the girls silently watch the Cake Song until the end=

Op: Pause it. Just…hit pause.

=communal long sigh=

Op: So. Anyone have anything they’d like to comment?

Ch: This…must be what losing my mind feels like.

G: Well, it was…cute.

Ok: Fucking weird.

G: But in a cute way. I…think?

Ca: I’m just going to preemptively say that I’ve got nothing. Please don’t ask me to explain. That’s not how things used to work at all.

Op: We figured.

Ca: I mean, we’d find witches, we’d transform, we’d fight the witches, the witches would die, and we’d get a Grief Seed. It wasn’t complicated! Nobody sang anything!

=long pause=

H: We’d better rewind and watch that again.

Ch: Why?

H: I have a feeling that it might be important.

Ch: To whom?

G: I agree with Lilly. They wouldn’t make it that weird without reason.

Ch: Oh, you wanna bet?

Ca: Charlotte, calm down, please.

Ch: I-Sorry. Sorry. You’re right. I’m just-Okay, fine! Let’s all take some crazy drops and watch it all over again!

=they rewind back to the start of the Cake Song=

Ch: I can’t believe they had the gall to not only keep me as a full witch but also turn me into that.

Ok: Well, I mean, it’s not like some weirdoes up and decided to turn you into a doll that…morphs into a giant clown worm. Apparently that was-

Ch: How I actually looked, yeah, I get it! It’s still creepy, though!

G: Why are we all…okay with this?

Ch: See? Exactly! If I just up and turned into a giant worm, you all would be freaking out!

Op: I would try to ride you.

=incoherent noises of disgust and irritation from Charlotte=

…

H: Okay, I think I’m starting to get how the rules of this game works.

Ok: It’s a game?

Ch: There are rules?

H: Sure! When you send the song to the next person, you name a quality about them, and that person has to come up with some kind of food that embodies that same quality! Saya…I’m sorry, Oktavia-

Ok: No, Sayaka’s correct. She’s not me.

H: Okay. Well, Sayaka started off and called herself the raspberry…for some reason.

Ok: Don’t look at me. I don’t even really care for raspberries all that much.

G: Blue raspberry?

Ok: That’s more of a flavor, I think?

H: Okay, well, she then passed it off to Kyoko, who is red-

Op: Really creative descriptor there, fishy-lips. Out of all of my qualities, you went with red? The cake should have been dead sexy! Or a fantastic dancer! Or

Ok: I probably thought up something dirty at first and had to sub it out at the last second, and red was the only thing that came to mind.

H: -And then Kyoko now passes it off to Mami, who is-

Ch: I’m sorry, loved by whom? Loved by Bebe? My name is BEBE?!

Op, singing: Rock-a-bye Bebe, on the treetop-

Ch: Shut up, shut up, shut up!

H: -er, well, that gets turned into cheese, because-

Ch: -BECAUSE OF COURSE IT DOES!

G: Do you need a break?

Ch: …no. I’m sorry. I’ll try not to freak out again.

Op: I’m gonna be honest, if you weren’t, I would be.

H: -well, anyway, Mami then passes it to me-

Ca: Though not without another close-up of my breasts, I see.

Op: I’ll give the animators credit: they know which side of the bread the butter’s on.

H: -and I’m…spinning in circles? I don’t really understand that one.

G: Well, there is the timeloop thing you were doing. That could be said to be spinning in circles.

H: There’s been no mention of that, though! And how would she know? Didn’t I keep that a secret?

Ca: You did.

G: Dunno.

Op: Maybe it has to do with how your shield has to turn for you to stop time? Maybe?

H: I don’t know. That’s kind of reaching.

Op: I do note that you seem to be the only one wondering what the fuck is going on. Like, just look at your face.

Ok: While I seem to just be having a grand old time!

Op: You know, I don’t blame you. I am starting to feel this. Cakey! Cakey! Round cakey!

G: And I’m sweet. All right.

Ok: What’s wrong?

G: It’s just having me be the cute one again. There’s more to me than just being cute!

Ch, now calmer: Maybe it’s to butter up the audience for some kind of dark twist. Like, the movie keeps making you out to be all cute and innocent but it turns out that you were the villain the whole time.

G: Really? That would honestly be kind of cool.

H: I seriously doubt that is the case.

…

Op: And here we summon a giant cake! Because reasons.

G: Is Hitomi still in that thing?

Ch: Well, if she is, then I just ate her!

H: Finally, a happy ending!

G: Oh, stop it.

Ch: Seriously though, what is my purpose in all of this? I turn into a worm, I start the song, I eat the cake. How does-

H: Oh! I think I just got it!

Ch: Huh?

H: These new enemies are called Nightmares, right?

Ch: Right…

H: Well, what do you do to calm a child who’s had a nightmare? You give them a snack and sing them a lullaby!

=pause=

Op: OOOOOOH, so that’s what was up with that explosive feast at the start!

G: So we don’t kill the Nightmares, we calm the Nightmares!

Ca: You know, as strange as that is, I do kind of wish it really was that easy. Back in the day, I mean.

…

Ok: And here I am, cradling Hitomi’s severed head! How’s that for a dark twist?

Op: It’s all part of the process.

Ok: I see she’s still clinging to Kyosuke, though.

Ca: Teen romance is complicated like that. Just because she was frustrated about his schedule doesn’t mean she doesn’t still love him. See? There she is, sleeping soundly.

G: So all’s well that ends well.

Ch: I have…a lot of problems…with describing anything that we just saw as “all’s well.”

H: So, wait, those sparkles that are coming down. Are those clearing our soul gems?

Ca: It looks like it. No grief seeds around, so I guess this is how they do it instead. I’m actually a little envious.

Ok: It does kinda seem like the idealistic version of what we went through. No despair, no need for competition, the monsters can be defeated by singing to them, and nobody turns into anything bad!

Ch: Except for me. Because seriously. What the fuck?

Op: You are not going to let that go, will you?

Ch: I am a fucking beanie baby!

G: What’s a beanie baby?

Ch: Never mind. Read about them in a book. Would take too long to explain.

…

Op: Aw, yeah! Party at sempai’s house!

Ca: Apartment. And this actually is accurate.

Ok: What, head to your place for snacks after a successful hunt?

Ca: Yes. Those were…nice. I enjoyed those a lot.

Op: We literally live together now. What’re you getting all nostalgic for?

Ca: It’s less that and more of the feelings. I had been…lonely for a while before all of you came into my life, so going from that to suddenly having so many sisters-in-arms…well, it made for a nice change.

Op: I guess that makes sense. Hey, you think that’s why Incubators made a big deal about competition? To keep us separated so we’d fall into despair faster.

Ca: I would not rule it out. Actually, if we had never learned the truth about soul gems or witches, we probably would still be alive, since we’d have each other for support.

Ok: My bad.

Ca: It’s okay. As Ophelia has pointed out many times, it all worked out in the end.

Op: Aw, yeah! Look at me getting down! Hooray for snacks!

Ca: Thank you for ruining the mood.

Op: It’s what I do. Hooray for snacks!

…

H: And the sun rises.

G: When do we sleep? I mean, seriously! Don’t we have school?

Ok: Maybe it’s a weekend.

Ca: We were more likely to get witches in the evenings, so we’d at least be in bed at a decent hour. Most of the time.

Op: Y’know, as weird as all this is, this really is beautiful. I mean, the animation is outstanding, and the scenery is gorgeous.

Ch: When it’s not totally tripping with your head and making you question everything you ever thought you knew about reality.

Op: …you okay over there, chief?

Ch: I’m sorry, guys. But can we take a break now? I seriously need a break.

G: Sure. I could use one too.

Op: …can we watch the cake song one more time first?

Ch: No.

10 notes · View notes

spooks-and-tea · 5 years ago

Text

Entangled (Spencer Reid x femReader)

Summary: You don’t know how it happened. One moment you were watching Criminal Minds, and the next moment you were literally in the show. Can Spencer be the key to helping you find your way back home?

Warnings: minor character death, mentions of su*cide, bad explanations of quantum mechanics, sexual situations, the usual criminal minds-type content

A/N: wow I’ve been on this site for ages, nearly as long as Criminal Minds was on air, lol, but this is my first fic posted here. I plan to make this one into a few parts if people like it. If this has any relation to other fics it’s not intended. Literally just an idea that popped in my brain. I’ll also eventually add it to my wattpad .@ kittentastic

Word Count: 3,119

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9. Chapter 10. Chapter 11.

It was an average, lonely, autumn night. Halloween was nearing and you didn't have anywhere to be. Long estranged from the people you once called family, and friends, you were starting a new life in L.A.

Yeah, you were one of those small-town girls with big-city dreams. You wanted to be an actress, a dream your father had once encouraged. When he suddenly died, you had nothing left but a new step-mother who discouraged your dreams and was more than happy to disown you when you reached 18 years of age; a classic Cinderella story.

It had taken a while, getting yourself through university and saving up enough money to move out to L.A. Now you were 27 and living your dreams...partly. You worked at a coffee shop in Hollywood; a great way to meet people that could potentially cast you in a big production, but that plan had yet to come to fruition. Every audition would have someone else in mind for the part.

Today, you had finished yet another round of auditions for everything from small commercial bits to tv shows. You poured yourself a glass of red wine after finishing your microwavable meal-for-one dinner. Wine would always be your go-to drink after your dissappointing days, it was great at helping you sleep. You clicked on the tv and sipped your drink from your criss-crossed sitting position and soon found a Criminal Minds marathon that was just starting. It almost seemed like fate as tomorrow you had an audition lined up for the very same show.

You smiled as the bright, happy, Penelope Garcia came into the shot, followed by the rest of the BAU. You absentmindedly bit your lip as Dr. Spencer Reid came into frame.

Like a large percentage of the show's viewership, you found the handsome genius slipping into one or two of your fantasies. You may have daydreamed about the Dr. being a real person and walking into your workplace to order coffee and whisk you off your feet. You may have also woken up from a few dreams involving the handcuffs he was currently restraining an unsub with.

You wondered if you would get the part. Would it be odd having to pretend this dream-man was real? You'd hope you could contain your blushing around Matthew at least.

You finished your drink and stretched out on the couch, already feeling your eyes growing heavy. You found your mind wandering as you grew more and more tired, hardly paying attention to the episode. The last thought you had before you drifted off was, "what if Spencer Reid was a real person?"

Bright lights of assorted colors and shapes danced behind your tired eyes. You felt a tugging sensation that seemed to pull you from your core. It felt warm and safe, like it wanted to protect you. A hum grew louder and louder in your ear canal, followed by a crackling wind. It was like an electric storm. The smell of coffee and a woodsy vanilla filled whatever place you were in. It was odd, you knew this, but you weren't scared. Something told you this was right. Your body began to rise higher and higher until a loud snap echoed around you, shattering your surroundings.

"Whoa, sleeping on the job now Y/N? Did someone tire you out last night?" A woman's voice broke through the fog as your mind caught up with you.

Wait, am I still dreaming? That voice...it sounds like...

"Pretty Boy, you wanna check her for a pulse?"

And that is definitely...

"I-I don't think that's necessary."

You slowly lifted your head and opened your eyes wide. Your blurred vision slowly grew used to the bright indoor lighting. Your eyes widened as you saw none other than JJ, Morgan, and Reid. Yes, the fictional characters were standing in front of you.

How was this even possible? You had to be dreaming, or maybe you were forgetting and you were at a very strange audition. Yes, that had to be it, logically.

"Good morning Sleeping Beauty. Rough night? I didn't think Reid's Doctor Who nights were that wild, I might have to tag along and chaperone you two next time." Morgan greeted with a teasing smirk.

"How late did you two go for last night?" JJ asked, leaning against the desk that you had been sleeping on, and sipping her coffee.

She directed the question to you, but you didn't remember this dialogue in the audition script. When you didn't answer, Spencer spoke up.

"She texted me when she got home safe at 9:43pm. I made sure she left early as the rain was starting up. Now, of course, she could have stayed up longer, but we continued to exchange texts until she texted me goodnight at 10:15pm."

"Goodnight texts? Remind me and JJ here why you two aren't dating again?" Morgan crossed his arms looking between you and Spencer.

You blinked, taking a chance to finally look around. There were no cameras in sight. Above you was a tiled ceiling with office lighting. No directors or normal-looking crew members were around.

"Matthew?" You asked, directing your question to a stuttering, red-faced Reid.

Everyone turned their attention back to you. Reid, or Matthew, raised his eyebrow at you. And turned to look if anyone was standing behind him that you could be talking to.

"Who is Matthew, Y/N?" He asks, cautiously.

Oh my god. I must be dreaming.

You stood up and slowly reached out to Reid, who was standing closest to you. You gently poked his cheek. He looked almost afraid at your actions.

"Spencer?" You lower your shaky hand. He felt real, he was standing in front of you. You could smell his morning coffee.

"Yeah?"

"Pinch me."

"What? Why?"

"So I know that I'm not dreaming." You could feel his eyes prodding you, profiling.

"Maybe we should get you to a doctor-"

You grabbed his wrist and placed his hand on your upper arm.

"Pinch me. Hard."

Spencer winced as he did what you asked of him. He obviously did not want to hurt you. You felt your nerves fire off in pulses of pain where he pinched. You sharply inhaled and he immediately dropped his hand.

"Oh my god," you stammered, "ohmygodohmygodohmygod."

This is real. Spencer Reid is real.

You slid back down in your chair and looked at an open mouthed JJ and Morgan, staring at you in shock.

"What kind of kinky shit are you two into?" Morgan narrowed his eyes at Reid.

"This is no time for teasing Derek. I think she's suffering from a concussion." JJ reached out, concerned, feeling your forehead for a fever.

"She doesn't have any visible signs of bruising. Y/N do you remember hitting your head on anything, or experiencing whiplash today?" Reid, growing serious turned your chair towards him, raking his fingers through your hair to check your scalp for any tender spots.

For a moment you had to stop yourself from sighing, it just felt nice, and it was Spencer.

"No I'm-I'm fine, my head feels fine." You answered.

"What's the last thing you remember doing?"

You bit your lip, should you answer him truthfully? How would you even explain something so illogical.

"I-I remember. I fell asleep on the couch watching tv." In a different reality.

"Do you think it's possible you rolled off of the couch in your sleep?"

You frowned to yourself.

"It's possible."

It's never happened before, but you suppose it would explain things. This was definitely a hallucination. Maybe it was one of those Spencer-centric dreams.

"Spence, I think you should take Y/N to the hospital. I'll cover for you with Hotch." JJ suggested.

Spencer nodded in agreement while Morgan looked worriedly at you. JJ got up from the desk to seek out Hotch in his office.

"Do you have your keys?" Spencer asked, still looking you over.

"Um-" you checked your pockets and sure enough found a ring of keys in your pants pocket. You dropped them into Spencer's outstretched hand.

"Can you walk?" Spencer's voice went softer.

You shivered as you did whenever you heard that tone on the show. He could make a living doing ASMR with that voice.

You stood with Spencer's unneeded, but much appreciated, help. He seemed to have no problem holding your hands to help you, something you considered to be out of character for the germaphobic Dr. Reid. Then again, the show did not go this long without it's occasional inconsistencies. Was your subconscious hallucination really thinking these things out?

You followed him to the elevator with ease, taking in your surroundings as you went. As the elevator doors closed, Spencer frowned at you once again.

"Your pupils have been dilated since you woke up." He spoke.

Yeah probably because the attractive genius I've been dreaming of for years is vividly realistic and talking to me.

"Is that a sign of head trauma?"

"Actually yes, you could be experiencing a sensitivity to light as a result of your head trauma. If that's the case, then you're in luck because it's been raining all day."

You followed Spencer out to your car, or at least you thought it was your car. You didn't exactly own one before dropping into this hallucination world. You were saving up for one, but didn't really need it as you lived close to your job and took public transit when you needed to go further distances. This car was nice, you supposed the dream BAU job payed well.

Spencer drove you to the hospital and waited in the waiting room as you received a full check up and MRI. You hoped he wasn't too bored waiting. As the doctor returned with your results you asked if Spencer could come in to hear the diagnosis. The doctor asked if he was family and you lied saying he was your fiancé. The doctor really didn't seem to care and Spencer was allowed in. He looked confident, prepared to discuss anything scientific that you may not understand yourself.

"Well Y/N, after reviewing your MRI scans and testing results, I can confidently assure you that you are perfectly healthy. We can order some blood tests for you if you wish, but from the concussion symptoms you thought you had, and from the results I have in front of me, I don't believe they are necessary." The doctor said with a smile, probably just happy to be delivering some good news.

"That can't be right." You shook your head and frowned.

"Y/N was clearly exhibiting fatigue, light sensitivity, memory loss, and confusion at work. If she's not concussed, what is wrong with her?" Spencer asked.

"I'd say your fiancé is simply experiencing the effects of exhaustion and a lack of sleep. My advice? Take her home and let her rest."

Spencer firmly shut his mouth as the doctor said "fiancé."

The doctor turned to you. "If you'd like, I can perscribe you a sleeping sedative."

You shook your head "no." You couldn't believe it; you'd slept at a reasonable hour, and you didn't feel fatigued.

Everything was starting to feel so real. The warmth of Spencer sitting so close to you felt real. The rain that fell on your skin felt real. The medicinal scent of the hospital made your feel sick. You could only think of one final way to try to wake up.

"Spencer can you stop somewhere for me?" You asked as he drove you home.

"Sure."

"Is there a lake near by?"

"Yeah...you don't remember? You've jogged on the trails near it with JJ and Morgan."

"Can you take me there? There's something I need to do."

You were beginning to grow used to the worried look on his face. The way his eyes softened reminded you of a puppy.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to you. If this was a dream concocted by your brain, wouldn't Spencer be a bit more romantic? In your dreams he could range from a hardcore, post-prison, genius, bad boy to a nerdy romantic, but he was always, obviously, interested in you right away. This Spencer seemed to be your friend, just your friend. By now he would've usually confessed his undying love and maybe taken you in the back seat of your car. Yeah, you weren't the most creative person. What kind of dream was this?

You felt a blush coming on as Spencer side-eyed you. Your brain would never torture you with a long-con, would it?

Spencer took you to the lake, walking beside you without a word, most likely thinking you were going crazy and in need of sleep. You walked to the edge of the trail and looked down at the lake. It was a ways down, the point you were standing was more like a cliff. You determined that the water must have been about a 6 second drop down for someone your size

"Y/N, why did you want me to take you out here?" Spencer asked as he eyed the waters below.

You stayed silent as you took a few steps back. You took a deep breath, and before you could second-guess yourself, you ran to the edge of the cliff and jumped.

"Y/N!" Was the last, panicked thing you heard before the body of water came rushing towards you.

Your body submerged in the icy cold water and sunk deep down from the speed at which you fell. All you could hear was the echoing pressure of the water against your eardrums. This was your last resort. You knew if anything could wake you up, it would be this, your biggest fear.

Your father had drowned, he worked on a fisherman's boat and a storm had overturned the ship far out in the ocean. All that had been recovered was assorted pieces of the ship's wreckage. You'd never even had the chance to learn how to swim as the fear had already settled in before your step-mother could arrange lessons.

If you could drown in this confusing dream-world, maybe you would wake up in time for your Criminal Minds audition.

Your lungs protested as you let yourself sink. You closed your eyes and let your muscles relax. Your head screamed at you, telling you that you absolutely should not be doing this. Fear prickled at your skin. Why did this feel like you were actually dying?

A heartbeat later, you heard the water's surface explode above you, but you didn't have the strength to look up. Your brain processed something wrapping around you and tugging you up, but you could not open your eyes to see what it was. You held on to your last bit of consciousness as you breeched the surface of the water and felt the chilly air assault your skin.

Arms pulled you somewhere. Your body was dragged up something solid, the backs of your legs scraped against rocks. It must have been land. Hands applied pressure, pushing like a heartbeat against your center, you could hardly feel it. A hand held your mouth open while another pinched your nose closed. Lips pushed, rushed, against your own as air was forced back into you. The hand left your mouth and returned to pumping.

"Come on. Come back to me Y/N. Please." Pleading followed by more air.

The strange entity repeated the process once more before you felt everything come up, forcing you back to reality.

You coughed and choked up water and bile; the rain washed it all away. Your lungs were aching and your skin was ice cold. The only warmth was what lingered from the person's lips. A hand pat and rubbed your back, helping you cough up everything. When it was all over your whole body was shivering. Your muscles gave out and a pair of arms wrapped around you, holding you up.

"Y/N."

You weakly turned your head.

Spencer. He's still here. He's really here.

He was soaked, hair ringlets stuck to his face, and his eyes were rimmed red. He looked like an angel, hand carved by Michelangelo himself.

Your brain was trying to catch up with his words.

"Y/N, I need to get you back to the car before we both go into hypothermia. Can you walk?" He asked through chattering teeth.

Your throat was killing you, so you opted for just shaking your head "no" in response.

"I'll have to carry you then, okay?"

You nodded, doubtful he could, especially in his weakened state.

He stood, grabbing his bearings before scooping you up. You weakly held his neck and lay your head on his shoulder. Your pain was numbed, you knew, from the biting cold.

Spencer managed to carry you all the way back to the car, placing you gently in the backseat and turning the heat all the way up. He climbed in the backseat with you and began to remove his jacket and tie.

"We have to remove our clothes, they're soaking wet and we have to warm up. Do you need me to help you undress?" There was no hint of teasing or slyness in Spencer's voice. He was completely serious and you knew he was right.

"I-I can't. Everything is numb." You managed to croak out, wincing at the pain it brought your throat.

"Alright, um- I'll only remove your shirt and pants."

You nodded, weakly.

Spencer removed his own shirt before carefully lifting yours over your head. He made sure to keep his eyes on your face as much as possible and not linger his gaze anywhere else. Next he removed your shoes, socks, and peeled your pants down your legs. You managed to arch your back slightly to help him. Lastly, he removed his own pants and threw all the clothes in a pile on the floor of you car.

"I'm going to hold you now, if that's alright. We need each other's body heat." Spencer looked less confident now. You managed to nod a "yes."

If you weren't so close to death, you knew your brain would be shorting out at the thought of being held by a half-naked, and very real, Spencer Reid.

He helped you lay down across the seats and settled in next to you. He wrapped his arms around you and rubbed his hands along your shoulders and back in an effort to warm you and massage your tensed muscles.

A few minutes of this went by before you could finally move. You wrapped your arms around Spencer, holding him close as his body warmed your own, and you cried against his chest.

One thought repeated over and over again in your head.

This is real.

You worked for the BAU and Spencer Reid had just saved your life.

Next Chapter

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds #fanfiction #drama #romance #cm

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 4 years ago

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Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 94

Lance had fled. The cow crapped in his living room and that was that. He’d made it very clear Matt and Rieva were to scrub the floor clean or they wouldn’t be joining them all for dinner. Pidge and Hunk had a few things to finish up as it was, provided they’d get over the hilarity of Matt and Rieva gifting him a stolen cow. Naturally Hunk didn’t find the cow theft itself funny, only the absurdity and randomness of their now being a cow in the house... which was kind of funny, because no normal person would “relocate” a cow.

The rest of his presents had been marginally better. Rieva proved to be an okay gift giver if you didn’t think about the cow. She’d gifted him non-relocated plants, herbs for his garden and cat grass for Blue. Clearly her idea and not Matt’s who’d given him a “voucher” to join them in bed if his heats got too much. He’s tried to throw it out, but Matt rescued it for “safe keeping because you never knew”. Hunk normally gifted him garlic knots and cookies, a standard and tasty gift, that didn’t happen this year now that Hunk knew he was a vampire. His poor ray of sunshine gifting him a voucher to a department store in Platt, seeming guilty over not knowing what to give him. Lance didn’t mind. It was a practical gift, and lately Rieva and Matt had been wearing off on him. His bed turning into a mound of blankets and cushions, Rieva teasing him about nesting. He didn’t know what nesting was, only that he felt safe in his mounded up bed and seeing it was his house, he could do as he pleased. Pidge declared herself the best gift giver ever. He loved his gremlin, but could only groan at her present. She’d brought him a “vampire hunting kit” online. She was so proud of herself, thinking it hilarious. Lance did not. Trust pop culture to get a hunting kit wrong. There was some major eye rolling at the polished wooden stake in the box... God only knew what was in the enclosed vials that came with the kit, probably dye and water... though the crucifixes were pretty, so that was nice.

Lance didn’t think about the next predicament of what to do now that’d arrived in Platt so early. Dinner wouldn’t be until 6:30pm, so he’d head over to the nursing home around 5pm to spend some quality time with his Mami. It was a little after 11am now, meaning he couldn’t head to VOLTRON given they’d all be getting ready for the mission and he’d be underfoot. That didn’t stop him from parking in front of the bookshop out of habit. With three spare hours, he wanted to see Keith so badly it hurt. Pulling out his phone, he nearly screamed when someone tapped on his window, Krolia all smiles as if she hadn’t taken 10 years off his undead life.

Rolling the window down, Lance wasn’t sure what to say to her. All plans to get her and Keith on the same page hadn’t eventuated. His boyfriend struggling so hard with figuring out how to feel about his mother. It sucked. Lance wanted to take all that pain away, but the only one who could do that was Krolia herself

“Keith hasn’t come in yet, if you’re looking for him”

No. His boyfriend was probably still at his apartment but Lance didn’t want to park up out the front and make a scene

“I was going to give him a call... see if he wanted to get lunch or something before the mission”

“So he told you? Oh... that’s right, it’s your birthday today... Why don’t I take you to lunch, my treat”

Ummm... what?

“You don’t have to go out of your way...”

Lunch with Krolia didn’t seem safe... He didn’t want to step on Keith’s toes, or meet with Krolia behind his back

“Nonsense. It’s no trouble at all”

“I should let Keith know...”

“He’s the reason I thought we should talk. I don’t want to make things complicated between you... but he won’t listen to me. I just want to know how my son is doing”

Lance knew he was fucked. His fierce love for his Mami, and his family, made it impossible to say no. If he was estranged from his Mami, he could picture her asking his friends about him

“You know I can’t say no to that”

Krolia did. Her smile hadn’t wavered at all

“Excellent. I’ll let you choose the place, you know this city better than I do”

Please lord don’t let him be murdered for this... by Keith or Krolia... maybe Krolia... yeah, he’d rather be murdered than cause a misunderstanding between him and Keith. Fuck. His Mami always told him to be polite... and his Mami had hit it off with Krolia...

“Jump in. I think I know a place”

Lance was still quietly hoping for murder as he and Krolia sat inside the dimly lit pub. It was the same place they’d come as a group after the others had learned his secret. The pub itself wasn’t that poorly lit, but he’d tried to pick somewhere kind of unnoticeable from the door. Sitting on one side of the booth, Krolia slid herself in on the other side, picking up the menu

“You look tense. Don’t worry about Keith”

He was pretty sure worrying about Keith was now a default setting, right up there with over thinking

“How can I not? I feel wrong meeting with you when he’s still trying work out his feelings”

“You care about him a lot, don’t you?”

Lance supposed it wasn’t as obvious to Krolia... in fact, she probably thought it was weird

“Very much. That’s why... I don’t want to get between the two of you”

“Keith has made it clear that he doesn’t want to know me”

What kind of crap was that?! Keith was dying to connect with Krolia

“That’s not true”

“Let’s go ahead and order. Do you... eat?”

“I can and I do”

“Excellent. Now, what’s deep fried and covered in grease?”

Lance ordered a salad, with a nonexistent appetite, it was something he could pick at. Krolia ordering a steak burger so raw the meat reminded him of his new cow... that wasn’t his cow and he was in no way attached to. Her plate loaded with fries, and her drink of choice a chocolate milkshake. Not what he expected

“Do you want a fry? You’re staring”

He didn’t mean to stare. No one told him that his birthday was going to take this unexpected turn

“I’m fine, thanks...”

“Then loosen up. You might be a stiff but don’t tell me you have a stiff sense of humour?”

“My sense of humour is fine. I’m just not sure what I’m doing here”

“I want to get to know the man my son’s dating”

“If you want me to break up with Keith, that’s his choice to make”

Krolia dipped a fry in her milkshake, sending drops flying as she shook it

“Whoa. Hold up. Okay. No. Keith is well and truly able to make his own choices... I’m making a mess of this”

He couldn’t talk to Krolia like she was a regular person. The Blades were all weird. He needed to remember Keith’s initial social weirdness and work around it

“No... no. I’m being cranky. I feel like I’m breaking Keith’s trust and it’s not a great a feeling. Your son... he’s amazing. He really is. He’s so smart and funny. He’s complicated and awkward, but he’s so... You’re missing out. He wants to know you, but he’s scared of being alone. He gets scared when he feels out of control and lashes out. Thinking that it’s better to push everyone away before they get to see how much he’s hurting. He gets lonely really easily. And he’s so sweet. Even if our first date was a bit weird, he’s always trying his best”

Lance gushed. Word vomit came easy when he thought of all the ways that made his boyfriend made him happy. Keith wasn’t a perfect human, he had many flaws, like his failure to work without coffee, but Lance wasn’t perfect either. That was the thing about love though. They both knew they weren’t perfect but together they were muddling through it, while working on themselves as they did

“Do you want to see something?”

Lance had no idea where that question was going

“Okay?”

Pulling out her wallet, Krolia passed it over. Lance taking the silent hint to open it. Finding a well worn piece of paper in the back, his fingers shook as he pulled his out. A happy family staring back at him. Krolia, so in love with her partner, a mother’s smile on her lips at Keith, bundled in his father’s arms

“We don’t keep a lot of personal items being Blade members. The newer generation does, but we’re all prepared to die. Every mission I’ve been on, that photos waited for me to come home to. Giving them up broke my heart. It took everything I had not to go back. I really thought Keith would have a better life if I wasn’t there”

“Have you shown him this?”

“No. He wouldn’t listen if I tried”

“Then you need to keep trying”

“Maybe...”

Whatever Krolia was thinking was wrong

“My family isn’t happy. I know what it’s like to have distance and it fucking sucks. Keith... he always feels like no one sees him as anyone other than your son or Shiro’s little brother. He wants... he wants to be accepted how he is and who he is. Krolia, he’s such a good man. He really is. I always kept a distance. I never ever thought something like me could have the love of someone as amazing as him. He wants to know about you. About his dad. What you like. How you became a Blade member. He wants to be closer to you. I shouldn’t be saying any of this because I don’t want to be in the middle of it, but I will always, always be on his side. I can’t forgive you if you hurt him. I can’t. I can’t even cope with him liking me because he’s just... he’s just Keith and he’s amazing how he is”

“I don’t know how to tell him. He was so cute as a child. He had this purple hippopotamus that he’d carry everywhere. His father couldn’t send me updates on him, but... He was the sweetest little thing. He loved that hippo so much. He loved riding on his dads shoulders... he... he was so cheeky, so happy... he’d probably hate the memory if he knew that hippo came from me. You know, his dad named him. I wanted to call him Yorak, but he wouldn’t have it. And I wouldn’t have Keith any other way”

Keith wouldn’t hate the memory. Any memory Krolia could share with him was a memory Keith had lost along the way. Krolia really did love Keith

“I know it’s old and cliche, but if you can’t find the words write them down. And this photo, this photo would bring him so much comfort. He doesn’t talk about it, but I know he’s lost most of the memories of his dad”

Krolia went silent for a bit. Lance had really meddled too much. He’d said more than he wanted to, and this meeting really was hurting his heart because he felt so guilty that Keith didn’t know about it

“Maybe”

Her reply didn’t give him much

“Can I call Keith? I really don’t feel comfortable”

“Yeah. I only really wanted a chance to meet you alone to see what you thought of Keith and if you were serious with dating him. He’s precious to me. Leaving him has broken me like nothing else ever has. Anything else is a bonus. I’m glad my son has someone who sees him... even if you’re old enough to be his father”

“Don’t remind me. I have no idea what he sees in me”

He was dead. Old. Grumpy and didn’t like crowds... he didn’t have much to offer

“I think I have some idea”

Shiro answered Keith’s phone, explaining that Keith was busy. Quickly Lance unloaded on him that he was at lunch with Krolia and wanted Keith to know so there wouldn’t be a misunderstanding. Shiro sounded surprised, then understandably nervous about telling Keith.

Half an hour passed before Curtis, Shiro, and Keith arrived at the pub. Keith ready to explode into a fit of rage

“What the hell?!? What do you think you’re doing?!”

Lance flinched. Yep. This was why he was scared of...

“I’m sorry...”

Huffily, Keith crossed his arms. Lance unable to look at him. He’d known this was wrong. He felt physically sick...

“I wasn’t talking to you. I know this had to be mum’s idea”

Krolia defending him had Lance sliding down in his chair

“Don’t be mad at him. The whole time he was here he wanted to call you”

“Maybe he should have done that to begin with, or maybe you shouldn’t have kidnapped my fucking boyfriend”

“Babe...”

“No. I know you would have agreed because you’re too nice. I’ve been stressing all morning and now you’re having lunch with her”

Lance didn’t mean to turn on the waterworks. Keith was lashing out and every comment felt like a hit to the gut. All he’d really wanted was a nice simple day with Keith on his birthday

“Keith, I think that’s enough”

Placing his hand on Keith’s shoulder, Shiro seemed to know how Lance felt. He knew that Lance didn’t want to be here and how much it hurt to feel like he was betraying Keith

“I’m sorry... I know. I know. I didn’t want to be in the middle of you and your mum. I know I fucked up”

Sliding out the booth, Lance blindly pulled all the bills out his wallet, leaving them on the table before slipping past Keith. This was another bad birthday in a long line

“Lance”

Keith called his name softly, Lance looking at his boyfriend through a fresh wave of tears

“I’m sorry... I’m so sorry I hurt you”

Once again he was fleeing... with absolutely no place to go other than to his Mami because he’d really done it this time.

Keith knew he was acting out. He knew and the words still came out. What was his mother thinking taking Lance to lunch like this?!

“This is the part where you’re supposed to go after him. He only met with me because I wanted to talk about you, and get to know him better”

“You had no right”

Yeah. Keith knew this. Lance couldn’t say no because he had a stupidly big heart. That’s what made him such an idiot crumpet. His boyfriend was trying to let them work this out for himself but Keith couldn’t.

Pushing her empty plate towards Lance’s barely poked at salad, Krolia twisted to face him properly

“What am I supposed to do when you keep shutting me out? I want to be in your life. I want to learn about you from you. I thought maybe we could have a nice lunch and talk. That’s all. That man seriously loves you. He said repeatedly he didn’t want to meddle and you should have heard how he talked about you. You need to go after him and apologise”

Like his mother would be the first one he’d listen too about relationship advice. He already knew he had to apologise. He didn’t need her telling him

“What would you know?”

“Because I know how devastating it is to miss your opportunity!”

Keith didn’t know what to say to that. Shiro’s hand was digging into his shoulder now. They all had regrets. Things said and left unsaid... He shouldn’t have blown up at Lance. He knew he shouldn’t have. Triply so on his boyfriend’s birthday

“I don’t know where he could have gone”

“He was parked in front of VOLTRON when I ran into him”

Keith shook his head at his mother

“Lance knows we have a mission today and wouldn’t want to be in the way”

“Where else would he go?”

“I talked to Pidge before and he wouldn’t be going back to Platt. Rieva and Matt stole a cow and Lance wasn’t happy at all over it”

So his boyfriend was already having a bad birthday before Keith made it worse

“Perhaps he went to Miriam? If he knew he couldn’t see Allura or Coran at the moment?”

Curtis was a genius. Lance had to be headed to see his Mami

“Shiro, I need your keys”

“I don’t know if I should let you drive...”

“Give me your keys or your collectables get tossed”

Shiro’s eyes went wide as he pulled away

“You wouldn’t. Not my limited collectables...”

Fuck the stupid things. He had to apologise for being a douche canoe

“I would for Lance. I need to... I need to see him”

Shiro pulled his keys out, passing them over

“Don’t forget you need to be at VOLTRON at one”

“I’ll be there”

As Shiro passed his keys over, his mother cheered him on

“Go get your man!”

Keith felt awkward about visiting the nursing home without Lance beside him. The staff kind of recognising that he’d been there, so all it took was a quick explanation before he was signed in and shown through to the garden area where Lance was cuddles up with his mother. This felt like a terrible idea on his behalf. Lance probably never wanted to talk to him again. He was so fucking good at ruining things. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Keith slowly walked over to the pair. Miriam holding Lance as Lance cried softly against her shoulder. Shit. What if Miriam hated him for making Lance cry? He hated him for making his boyfriend cry.

“Mijo, you have a visitor”

Miriam offered him something that wasn’t a smile, nor was it a frown. All Keith could describe it as was a “mum look”. Yeah. He’d fucked up, and she knew that he knew, and he knew she knew and now he was expected to do something about it

“Babe...”

Lance clung to his mother. Miriam sighing at him

“Mijo, you can’t ignore Keith”

“He wants to break up because I hurt him”

Miriam glanced at him around Lance

“That’s the clearest he’s been since he showed up. Would you like to explain what happened?”

Keith sighed. He really wanted to sit on the other side of Lance and cuddle him until he calmed down

“My psychotic mother kidnapped him for lunch and he was too nice to say no”

“Lunch sounds like a lovely idea”

Was Miriam messing with him, or did she think he and Krolia were suddenly going to besties

“It would be if it wasn’t my mother’s attempt at meddling”

Miriam smile fondly, moving her hand to pat the spot behind Lance

“It’s a mother’s job to meddle within reason...”

That was Miriam meddling. Sitting on the edge of the bench, Keith’s stomach was a pit of nerves as he rested his forehead against Lance’s shoulder, hand moving to rest just past Lance’s elbow

“I deserved to be punched in the dick”

Lance sniffled loudly, hiccuping as he wrestled his tears under control

“I don’t want to be in the middle. I want you two to work it out together. I know it was wrong... but she wanted to know if you’re okay... and I got to see a photo of your dad... she really fucking loves you and I don’t want to pressure you... and I don’t want you to keep fighting. I want you to be happy. Stupid Matt and Stupid Rieva stole a cow. Pidge dressed as a vampire. Hunk didn’t give me food because he thinks I don’t like eating normal food. You’ve got a mission. Our whole night was changed. And you were so mad at me”

That was a lot of “ands”. Lance didn’t seem to be having a good day at all, or everything he’d been trying to laugh off he couldn’t cope with now Keith had messed up. He was mad. Mad. Scared. Confused. Hurt. Betrayed. And a dozen different words that made his heart race at the sight of them together at the pub

“I was... am... I just don’t see why you’d go out to lunch with her, or why you didn’t tell me sooner. You can’t let her bully you”

Smooth. Real. Fucking. Smooth. Maybe he could go on his mission and just not return? Perhaps the ground would swallow him whole so stopped being such a dick?

Lance placed his hand over Keith’s, still talking at mami’s chest rather than Keith

“But she’s your mum. I... I want to know more about you and her. I’m 19 years older than you. I’m not cool, or hip, or rad, or whatever the word is these days... I know you hate having to talk everything out... and I know you both are awkward as hell... but you’re hurting and I hate it”

“That’s not your pain, babe”

“It is because it’s yours. I want to be the one you lean on, not the one you feel you have to keep secrets from. I know it’s hard for you, and I felt so rotten that I couldn’t tell you before we talked”

“I’m the one who overreacted. I know you’ve got a good heart and I shouldn’t have snapped. It really hurt seeing you able to talk with her”

“I could barely say anything right. Please don’t be mad. I told her if she can’t find the right words to say to write them down. It doesn’t make up for her leaving, and what she says isn’t my business. I’m not trying to force you to talk her. You’ve got to move at your own pace and be ready when you do”

Keith knew that. He knew Lance respected him enough to handle this on his own and that his boyfriend only wanted what was best for him. It was a little early, but he really wanted some time with Lance before the mission

“Mami, do you mind if I borrow Lance?”

“Heaven’s no. You two make up properly or neither of you get dessert tonight. I must say I’m looking forward to dinner”

“I hope you don’t mind. When I organised it, it was supposed to be just the three of us”

“Lance isn’t very good at handling his birthday... or his friends. Don’t worry about me, as long as you two work this out”

“We will. I’m sorry I upset him”

“Couples fight. Making up is the fun bit”

Lance snorted wetly, Keith didn’t know what kind of face to make when Mami was hinting at sex so openly

“Mami!”

“Go have a good time with your boyfriend. I’m very proud of you, Mijo. Happy birthday, my precious little boy”

“Mami, I’m 45”

“And you’ll always be my precious little boy. Go on. I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful time with Keith”

Lance seemed lost as they walked back to where they’d parked, Keith finding a spot across from Lance. Almost shyly he asked

“What do you want to do?”

His boyfriend was too cute

“I’ve got the hotel key... I know it’s early, but I’ve still got time before the mission. It’s your birthday, and I really want to spend some time with you”

“You haven’t even said it”

“That’s because I’m waiting until we’re at the hotel. You want to lead and I’ll follow? You’re probably better at finding this place again...”

A smile finally crept across Lance’s lips

“You do have a habit of getting lost”

“Directionally misplaced. Get your phone out and I’ll send you the address”

“Sounds good... babe... I really am sorry”

Keith couldn’t not hold his boyfriend. Wrapping his arms around Lance, he melted into the hold

“I’m sorry too. There’s no excuse for how I acted”

“I get it... I’ll see you soon?”

“Yeah, babe”

#once bitten twice stupid #oncebittentwicestupid

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nerdzzone · 5 years ago

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Light After Dark: Chapter Five

Summary: Brooke Harris was trying her best to be grateful. As the world tackled the COVID-19 pandemic, she was healthy and safe and so was the rest of her family, but her dreams had very quickly been crushed by the economic fallout. Trapped on the quaint island of Jersey with nothing, but free time to wallow in her mistakes, Brooke’s mental health was taking a hit, but when she collides with a handsome stranger she starts to realize that the future might not be so bleak and there might still be a light at the end of the tunnel.

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC

A/N: Any names or info about Henry’s family is completely made up and all the gifs I found on google (feel free to contact me for credit if they’re yours!). I would love to hear any feedback on the story so far! :)

______________

May. 5. 2020

"Mum!" I shouted from the kitchen as I admired my creation on the counter. "Where exactly do the Cavills live?"

I heard brief footsteps before my mother's head popped into the kitchen.

"Oh, wow, Brookie," She gasped. "That looks incredible!"

I grinned proudly at the beautiful cake on the counter. It was three tiered and designed to look like Superman. The top being his head, the middle being his torso and the bottom being his bottom half. Complete with cape, curl on his forehead and Superman logo all made out of fondant icing.

"Thank you. Do you think I could walk it over or would I need to take the car?"

"Hm, walking might be safest," She mused as she grabbed her phone off the counter to take a picture. "It's not far and I can come with you if you don't mind. I wouldn't mind saying hello to Marianne."

"That would be great. I'd feel better having someone else to help support it."

"Perfect!" She nodded. "Honestly, darling, this is magnificent. The detail is amazing."

"Thanks," I smiled. "I just need to change quickly and we can go."

She didn't answer as she was so wrapped up in photographing my work so I scurried off up to my room, buzzing with excitement.

****

May was always a tricky time for choosing how to dress. It wasn't overly warm, only about fifteen degrees, but the cool weather we'd had the week before made it seem a lot warmer than it actually was. Carrying the cake would be tricky and I didn't want to show up to Henry's house all sweaty and gross, but I also didn't want to show up dressed for the middle of summer and have him think I was insane.

I groaned as I tossed another shirt disapprovingly onto my bed and heard a giggle from the door.

"Are you struggling?" Cassie teased as she moved into the room and sat on the bed. "It looks like a hurricane has been through here."

"I don't know what to wear," I whined. "I've not seen him in person since we've started talking, I want to make a good impression."

"You're just dropping off a cake, Brooke, you're not even going on a date."

Her statement was intended to calm me down and take the pressure off a bit, but it did the opposite. My cheeks heated up and I suddenly felt incredibly silly.

"I know," I bit my lip as nervous anxiety bubbled in my chest. "I'm blowing it out of proportion, aren't I?"

"A little bit," She nodded. "It's nothing to stress about, hun."

"Was I stupid for making the cake at all?" I asked, "Is it too much?"

"What?" Cassie's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Why on earth would it be too much? That wasn't what I meant at all. I just meant that you don't need to get yourself all worked up over something silly like what to wear."

"It's just weird," I groaned, dragging myself away from my closet to sit on the bed next to her. "We've been talking for almost a month now, but it's hard to figure out where we stand when we can't actually see each other in person. I don't want to overstep if maybe I've read the signals wrong."

"Okay, well, first of all, he asked you to make him a cake so even if he only asked you because he knows you're a baker and he wants a really nice birthday cake then you're still not overstepping," She reminded me. "And second of all, I've seen your conversations. He likes you. He'll be just as excited to see you again as you are to see him."

"Do you think so? I mean, I think we're flirting, but I'm notoriously bad at reading the signs and he's fucking Superman for god's sake, why would he want to flirt with me?"

"Because you, my darling sister, are hot," Cassie smirked. "And you're funny and sweet and thoughtful. You're a total catch and even if he is Superman, he's the lucky one in this equation."

I couldn't help, but smile at her kind words, knowing she meant every one of them.

"Thanks Cass," I said softly, feeling some of the nerves in my stomach dissipate slightly. "I just don't want to get ahead of myself. It's fun talking to him, but it's hard when you can't actually meet face to face."

"Well, from all the giggling that comes out of this room when you're talking to him on the phone, I would say that you have nothing to worry about," She assured me before standing from my bed and heading to my closet. "Now, let's find you something to wear."

By the time Cassie was done styling me I was wearing a long black sleeve shirt under short style overalls. It was a good mix of warm, but cool for a sunny spring day.

"Are you sure I don't look like I'm dressed up as a farm girl?"

Cassie giggled at my question, but shook her head.

"No, you look adorable," She insisted. "And it shows off your legs. You have great legs."

I looked down at them in the mirror and thought they looked pretty average, but I took her word for it, thanked her and headed back downstairs to meet my mum.

"I thought you said 'quickly'," She scoffed as I walked back into the room. "You've been gone almost half an hour."

"That is quick when you're getting ready to see the man you've fallen in love with."

I spun around to scowl at my dad who'd appeared by the kitchen door.

"I'm not in love with him," I argued. "We're just friends."

"Quite the extravagant cake to make for a friend," He teased. "You've never made me anything like this."

"I make things for you all the time," I mumbled, letting my hair fall in front of my face to hide my red cheeks. "Just because I'm living at home again doesn't mean you need to tease me like I'm fifteen."

"You just make it too easy, Sweetheart," He grinned. "But I'm sure your boyfriend will love his cake."

I groaned as my mom smiled and scolded her husband on my behalf.

"Alright, we should get going," She told me. "If we leave it much longer we'll catch them in the middle of their supper."

She was being dramatic, it hadn't taken me that long to get changed, but I nodded and slipped my phone into my back pocket before gently lifting the cake off the counter.

****

The walk over was slow going. It should have only taken maybe ten minutes to get to the Cavill's house, but I was so terrified of dropping the cake that it took almost twice as long. Focusing on that was a good distraction though and by the time I was placing the cake stand on their doormat I felt less nervous and more excited for him to see it.

Once it was safely placed on the ground, I knocked loudly on the door and scurried back to where my mom was waiting on the other side of the porch, six feet away.

"I hope he's the one who answers the door," I thought, voicing it out loud to my mother. "Or someone might end up very confused."

She laughed quietly beside me as the door swung open and Henry was standing there only a few feet away. They say that you tend to build things up in your mind when you go without it for a while so there was part of me that had thought there was no way Henry was as handsome in person as I remembered. But he was.

My breath caught in my throat for a minute as he glanced down at the cake and then up at me with an ear to ear grin on his face.

"Happy birthday!"

"Wow, thank you so much," He chuckled. "I didn't think you'd actually make me a cake."

I dropped my jaw in an exaggerated way before rolling my eyes.

"You absolutely did," I insisted. "I was worried if we didn't get it here soon you'd come looking for it. You've mentioned it almost every day."

"Alright, I did," Henry admitted with a smirk as he picked up the cake. "But, wow, this is next level. It's amazing!"

All the commotion had drawn a crowd to the door that came into view as Henry moved the cake to a little table on the porch and set it down.

"Sue! Hello!" A woman called as she made her way outside. She was around my mother's age so I assumed she was Henry's mum. "How lovely to see you!"

"Oh, it's lovely to see you too!" My mum smiled. "Brooke said she could use some help carrying this cake over so I jumped at the chance. Isn't it awful being cooped up at home all the time?"

"Gosh, it's just terrible."

"Mum," Henry called, interrupting the little reunion as he lifted up the dome I'd used to protect the cake. "Look how amazing this is."

There was a chorus of 'wows', impressed gasps and various other praise and I felt my cheeks go red from the attention.

"Did you make this all from scratch?" Henry asked as a curly mass of brown hair flew through the door and over to the table. "Whoa, careful Alfie, don't knock it down."

Henry grabbed the boy, who looked to be about eight, gently by the shoulders to stop him from getting too close as he stared at it wide-eyed.

"That's so cool," He whispered in awe. "It looks like Superman!"

"It looks like Uncle Henry!" Another, slightly younger, boy shouted as he scurried over as well. "When Uncle Henry's in the movies!"

"I'm glad you think so! I tried my best to make it look like him," I smiled, drawing their attention away from the cake and towards me. "And yes, I did make it all from scratch. But I did wear a mask and gloves the whole time and I thoroughly sanitized the kitchen before I started so it's completely germ free. Not that I have any germs to pass on, I promise."

"What a strange time we're living in that you have to provide such a disclaimer when giving your friend a cake."

That observation came from an amused woman standing in the doorway and, as if he read my mind, Henry spoke up.

"Sorry, I should do some introductions," He realized. "Brooke, this is my mother and Father. My brother, Simon, and his wife, Louise, and their three kids, Alfie, George, and Amelia. Everyone, this is Brooke and her mother."

My mother spoke up before I did, informing him that she'd met them all before at one time or another, but once she was done I offered an awkward wave.

"Hello, everyone! It's nice to meet you all."

"I can't believe that after my brother almost broke your ankle, you made him a birthday cake," Simon smirked as he balanced his daughter on his hip. "It's not poisoned, is it?”

I giggled as Henry rolled his eyes.

"It was just as much my fault as his," I insisted. "It's just unfortunate for me that he's as solid as a brick wall."

"Sometimes those muscles do more harm than good," His mum smiled fondly, putting her hand on his shoulder. "Now, who wants cake? You'll stay for some, won't you?"

My mother leapt in before I could answer.

"Oh, that would be wonderful!”

There was a flurry of commotion as Marianne rushed off to get plates and the kids immediately started arguing over which piece of cake they wanted. I heard Henry softly clear his throat and, when he caught my eye, he nodded his head to the side. He didn't wait for me before sneaking off quietly down the stairs and I followed, but not before catching the knowing look my mother was throwing at me.

"Be careful," She warned quietly. "We're still in a pandemic and you're still vulnerable."

"I know," I assured her, biting back the urge to remind her that I wasn't a child and could look after myself. "I won't be long."

I rushed off after Henry before she could give me anymore advice or we caught anymore attention.

****

I found Henry just around the side of the house standing in quite a spectacular garden.

"Happy Birthday," I repeated with a smile, alerting him to my presence as I walked closer until I was the appropriate distance away. "Are you having a nice day?"

"I am, thank you," Henry returned my smile. "It's been as relaxing as can be expected in a house full of children, but it's been nice seeing them all try to make my day special. Until you came and upstaged everyone."

He playfully shook his head at me and I felt the nervousness fade away. He may be drop dead gorgeous, but he was the same Henry I'd been messaging.

"I didn't mean to," I insisted with a laugh. "You wouldn't shut up about the cake so I had to make it something special!"

Henry chuckled at that.

"Seriously though, I really appreciate it. Thank you very much," He grinned at me, making my cheeks heat up at his praise. "It must have taken you hours."

"It took all morning," I nodded with a smile, not admitting that I got up at just after six am to make sure I had enough time. "But it was really enjoyable actually. I haven't felt much motivation to bake fun things so it was nice having an excuse to get back into it."

"Oh, well then you're welcome."

His words were said with a smirk that made me roll my eyes, shaking my head, but just as I was about to tell him to be quiet a massive black and white ball of fur came bounding around the corner from the back of the house.

"Oh my gosh," I gasped. "Is this Cow?!"

Henry barked a laugh at that as the big dog ran around both of us in circles, his tail wagging at top speed.

"It's Kal," Henry corrected. "But yes, this is my dog. He's probably incredibly thrilled that he's getting to meet a new person for the first time in months."

I smiled and squatted down to wrap my arms around his neck.

"Awe, well, I know we're supposed to keep our distance from people's pets now too, but how could I resist you?" I cooed to the dog who danced in place while licking my face. "My goodness, you're the sweetest thing I've ever seen!"

"He is pretty great," Henry agreed, a hint of pride in his voice, but after a few more moments of me fussing over his companion he spoke again. "You know, I've always liked how Kal stole the attention away from me, but I think this might be the first time it's actually making me a tad bit jealous."

My head snapped up in his direction, worrying for just a moment that I'd actually upset him, but the soft smile on his face put me at ease. Nevertheless, I stood up, much to Kal's dismay.

"Wow, Henry, that's pretty self-centered," I teased. "I know it's your birthday, but that doesn't mean the attention needs to be on you every minute of the day."

"It doesn't? I was under the impression that was exactly what it meant."

"Nope," I shook my head. "It just means that you're one step closer to those senior discounts."

"Oh, please," Henry rolled his eyes. "Thirty-seven is really not that old."

"I was debating getting you a walking stick to go with the cake," I teased. "You know, because you might need it any day now."

Henry glared at me for a moment, but it quickly melted into a laugh.

"If I'm days away from needing a walking stick with these muscles," He paused briefly to flex his biceps which, despite making my breath catch in my throat at their size, earned an amused shake of my head. "You must already be a cripple with those weak ankles of yours."

"Oh my god, I can't believe you just did that," I laughed. "Trying to impress me again, are you?"

"I don't have to try," Henry smirked. "I can tell you're impressed."

I opened my mouth to protest, but resigned myself to a simple shrug as I crossed my arms.

"Well, yeah, okay, of course I'm impressed," I admitted with a smile. "You're sculpted like a Greek god."

"It really is mostly for practical reasons," He informed me, his usual humble side returning as he scratched Kal's head. "You can't wave swords around for hours without hurting yourself if you're not strong."

I cocked my head to the side suspiciously.

"I don't remember Superman using a sword."

"He didn't, but there was a lot of dangerous stunt work and did you see the suit they made me squeeze into? I had to be in top shape or it wouldn't have fit."

"Alright, that's fair," I nodded before a realization hit me. "Oh my gosh, do you even eat cake?"

Henry stared at me blankly for a moment before laughing.

"On my birthday? Of course I do!" He nodded. "I do try to keep a pretty healthy diet, but on holidays or special occasions I don't restrict myself too much."

"Thank goodness," I breathed a sigh of relief. "For a moment there I was panicking that I should have made you some kind of healthy protein cake creation instead."

He pulled a face at that suggestion, making me giggle at his over the top look of horror.

"If you're going to do cake, you have to do it right!"

"I'm glad you think so," I smiled. "Because there is a lot of sugar in that icing. It's probably about a thousand calories a slice."

I was being a bit dramatic, but it earned a full body laugh from Henry and I felt a warming in my chest at the sight. He was such a lovely person to be around. Lovely might seem like a boring description, but it fit him perfectly. He was genuine, funny, easy to tease and quick to tease back. He was constantly impressing me with how down to earth he was and he had a very calming presence that made all my anxiety melt away. He made me feel lighter.

He asked a few questions about how often I made such fancy cakes, about the different techniques involved and how I'd come up with the idea and for the first time in a few months it actually felt good to talk about my baking. I'd been really crushed by my failed attempt at opening a bakery. Sure, it wasn't really a sign of my skill or business management abilities, but opening a bakery just for it to be permanently closed a few months later was pretty defeating. It had left a bad taste in mouth in regards to baking anything that wasn't practical food.

We got lost in our conversation only pausing when a deep 'boof' came from the dog that had been circling us. He was staring in the direction of the gate so we followed his gaze and saw Henry's tiny little niece toddling towards us. A grin burst onto Henry's face, making my heart melt just a little bit.

"Hi, sweetheart," He cooed as she came over before lifting her arms to be picked up. Henry did so happily, resting her on his hip. "Did you enjoy the cake? It sure looks like you did!"

I laughed as he wiped some of the icing off of her cheek. It was all over her face as she smiled up at him and nodded. She shyly told him that it was yummy, eyeing me suspiciously the whole time.

"This is my friend, Brooke," Henry told her. "She made that cake for me. Can you say thank you?"

"Thank you..."

She still seemed wary, but I smiled in what I hoped was a reassuring manner.

"You're very welcome!" I told her. "Now, I can't remember what your Uncle Henry said your name was, can you remind me?"

"Amelia."

"It's lovely to meet you, Amelia!"

As I spoke, her mother appeared at the gate, relaxing in obvious relief when she saw Amelia in Henry's arms. She shouted over asking if we were okay with her, but Henry waved her off before turning his attention back to the child.

"Can you tell Brooke how old you are?"

She held up two chubby little fingers and I held back an 'awwe' at the sight.

"Two? Wow. Uncle Henry must seem pretty old to you then," I teased him earning a roll of his eyes when she wasn't looking. "He's thirty-seven!"

"Well, she is almost three," Henry clarified. "So she's almost as old as me really."

"No!" Amelia protested, disgust written all over her face. "I'm little!"

"You're little?" Henry gasped in mock shock. "Weren't you just telling me the other day that you're a big girl now?"

She shook her head insistently and I laughed at the pair of them.

"Don't worry, Amelia. He keeps trying to say that I'm as old as him too and I'm six whole years younger."

She giggled at that and looked up at Henry before scrunching her nose.

"You're old."

"Thanks for that," Henry laughed, shaking his head in my direction. "I'm not old, Amelia. Don't listen to her."

He tickled her tummy making her squirm and giggle in his arms. It would have been almost impossible not to laugh along with her, but once she got herself under control her face got very serious as she leaned in to whisper something in her uncle's ear.

"Oh, I'm not sure that will be possible," Henry chuckled earning a very over the top, but heart-wrenching pout from his niece. "Your birthday is a long way off, we might not all be here together by then."

From what he said, I had a rough idea of her request, but I gave Henry a questioning look, prompting him to elaborate.

"She wants to know if you would make her a birthday cake on her birthday."

"Oh, honey, I would love to make you a cake if you're still here on your birthday," I smiled. "When is it?"

She mumbled something incoherent as she rested her head on Henry's shoulder so I turned to him again for clarification.

"July twenty-ninth."

"My birthday is on August fourth," I told her. "That's pretty close together, hey? Maybe I can make a giant cake for both of us!"

Her eyes lit up at that suggestion.

"A fairy princess one?"

"Is that what you would like?" I asked as she nodded frantically. "Then it's a deal. If we're still here on you birthday, I’ll make us a giant fairy princess cake to share."

She grinned at that information and wiggled to be put down before running off through the gate under Henry's watchful eye, presumably to tell her parents the exciting news.

"What a sweetheart," I smiled. "She's adorable."

"She is and she knows it," Henry chuckled. "But she's quite quiet and calm so she tends to get overshadowed by her brothers who have an endless amount of energy. It's been hard for them having to stay home so much so they end up with most of the attention because if they're left to their own devices someone usually gets hurt."

"It must be hard not being able to go to the park and burn off all that energy."

"Exactly," Henry nodded. "But luckily the garden is fairly big so there's a lot of football and playing chase with Kal, anything that lets them blow off some steam, but Amelia doesn't like those things so I've been trying to spend some time with her too. She loves reading so we've been doing a lot of that while the boys wreck havoc."

"That's very sweet," I smiled as my heart fluttered at the thought of the giant, muscled man in front of me sitting with his tiny niece curled up in his lap as he read to her. "She must love that."

"She does and really, I do too," Henry admitted. "Don't get me wrong, I love running around with the boys, but it's nice to have those quiet moments too. It's one positive thing that's come out of this whole mess, getting to really bond with them all."

"I've felt the same with my niece," I nodded. "She's probably about the same age as Alfie and I always made an effort to see her as much as possible, but it's nice to have an excuse to be around all the time and really get to know her little personality."

"It is and honestly, I can't wait to have a family of my own," He confessed with a sheepish smile. "So it's nice to get some practice in."

A smirk slid onto my face.

"Well, after seeing you with Amelia, I'm sure you'll be a super dad."

Henry shook his head at me and sighed dramatically, but despite his incredible acting skills, he couldn't help, but laugh.

"You're hilarious," He told me, his words dripping with sarcasm as I grinned proudly at my joke. "Always have a pun ready to go, don't you?"

"They just come to me," I giggled. "It's a gift."

"If you weren't such a good baker, I'd suggest you do stand up comedy."

His words were once again laced with sarcasm, but I just smirked.

"Maybe I'll do both," I shrugged. "Maybe that was part of my downfall, there wasn't enough comedy to go along with the pastries. I should have set up an open mic."

"Ah, yes, because it's well-known that the British just love the awkwardness of amateur comedians."

"True, that might be a bit too cringey," I admitted with a wrinkle of my nose. "But I could have at least come up with some clever, play-on-word names for everything. What a missed opportunity."

"It was, especially for someone as clearly multi-talented as you."

I couldn't help, but laugh at his flat delivery, but quickly forced it into a glare.

"Alright, that's enough sarcasm out of you," I playfully scolded him. "We both know that I'm at least funnier than you and really, that's all that counts."

"I think we both actually know that it's the other way around," Henry raised an eyebrow. "Or was that another one of your jokes?"

I shook my head at his teasing, but before I could argue, Henry's brother shouted over to us.

"Henry! Brooke! If you want some cake, come get it now before George eats it all!"

A tiny voice shouted his protests at being blamed as Henry and I laughed.

"Well, it sounds like we should get back before I don't even get to try my own cake," Henry chuckled. "But thank you, Brooke. All jokes aside, I really appreciate that you put so much effort in to making me that cake."

"Don't worry about it," I assured him, feeling my stomach flutter at the genuine kindness in his eyes. "Just because we're all in lockdown, doesn't mean that you can't have a nice day. I'm glad I got to help make that happen."

Henry smiled and nodded understandingly before walking past me towards the gate. We'd stayed pretty much six feet apart the whole time we'd been talking, but he broke the rule as he walked by, brushing his hand just briefly against mine. It was subtle and fleeting, but his pinky wrapped around mine and squeezed gently.

He didn't even stop walking so as fast as it happened, it was over. Perhaps I was just feeling rather touch starved from not being near anyone but my family since our last meeting, but the brief connection left me buzzing. I'd always assumed the novels and movies that describe the electric sensation when two people touch were being dramatic, but it suddenly seemed very real. My skin felt like it was on fire and it was suddenly like my mind had gone completely blank of anything that wasn't how soft his skin felt.

Kal broke me out of my trance with a lick to my hand and I took a deep breath to get myself back down to earth. I thought to myself how embarrassing it would have been for Henry to see what an effect his simple action had on me, but when I looked up and saw him standing by the gate with a smirk on his face I was pretty sure that he was very much aware.

#Light After Dark #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fic #henry cavill x ofc

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